3. The Untold Story of Hrafn Tideswift

The Untold Story of Hrafn Tideswift

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    _Character: Swift
    Account: CrowBarBirdy

    OOC notes: There's a small chance of recognizing Hrafn's face by people originally from the Sea of Fallen Stars area, particularly Sembia and Altumbel. Depending on their last time visiting Aglarond, people who had been there a couple decades ago might remember the execution of a group called the Tideswift Pirates._

    Born on Kelthann Isle, Hrafn's earliest memories are of hiding under a shabby table as rancid smelling smugglers stormed in and out of the tavern he called home. The 'family' he knew consisted of a bar-brawling mother, an uncle-like quartermaster and the various desperate lost souls that made up a large portion of the pirate crew. While his father had no name according to his mother, he gathered a few bits and pieces about what the man might have been. As his home life wasn't particularly traditional, there was little he could do to find out the whole truth about a stranger who probably didn't even know he existed.

    A large portion of his childhood was spent as far out of sight as he could get from his mother's usual company. From smugglers to slavers to people who just plain hated pointy ears, he learned quickly that even amongst these other outcasts there was something different about him. While Gudrun Tideswift did her best to keep her guests away from her child, there was many a time he'd been used as a bargaining chip by regulars. Because of this their relationship was strained, the half-elf convinced that she simply didn't care, and her frustrated and at a loss of what to do about the child's tantrums. What arguments weren't ended with empty but frightening threat usually were diverted by then-crewman Alek.

    From the time the young Tideswift could be trusted not to run off, he was stuck swabbing the decks of The Riptide (a small vessel they had that ironically was done in by its namesake). Eventually they would let him come ashore with them to Sembia, normally with Gudrun and Alek both posing as his parents. While he'd preferred his hair short on the islands, around the elf-hating ports of Altumbel it became undeniable just how crucial it would be around there to keep his ears covered. As his self-consciousness rose, so did the amount of questions he'd pelt more familiar crew members with about his father.

    By an early age he'd seen the fatalities of one wrong step, ranging from the ships his own crew overtook to a vengeful stowaway sneaking up on one of the pirates during a moment of gloating. Scrawny and quiet as he was, the young boy was usually left with cleaning duties, food preparation and the occasional transporting of goods between ships. He'd seen plenty of fighting and had play-fought with some of the other pirates, but the idea of overwhelming people by sheer force of number was something that made his stomach turn. Most of the time he'd play sick or claim he thought he saw rats eating food in the hold to weedle out of raiding.

    Early in his 'adolescence' was when his life took a drastic turn. His mother would always remind him that most people of their lifestyle ended up dying young, and that she didn't expect either of them to live long enough to see her hair start to gray. She'd been young when she had had him, and by human standards his growth was excruciatingly slow. Thirty years of life and he had yet to show signs of stubble, yet her face was lined with permanent creases. Gudrun, Alek and some of her friends in Sembia were celebrating the successful raid of a small Aglarond merchant vessel. Like many pirates they despised the country for its brutal efficiency in keeping them away from their coastline and occasionally spying on the neighboring Altumbel to catch a few. Figuring they were safe in a country across the sea, they had not been expecting to be tracked to a favored bar there and seized. Having been masquerading as a human as he usually did, Hrafn had been told to "find somethin' ter keep busy wit'" and meet back at the ship on the morrow. So when he saw flames from the port and heard people in the gathering crowd whispering about an attack on the bar his crew had been at, he knew he didn't have much time before he too would be caught.

    Never staying in one spot too long, Hrafn has spent most of his time on the road looking over his shoulder. As much of a conscious effort he makes to avoid the sea, something always seems to draw him back to cities with the ports. Awkward and uncertain in most legal dealings inland, work by the sea as temporary was usually the only kind of job he could approach with enough confidence to receive for the first few years. While his horizons have expanded from a mixture of experience and sheer desperation, he still finds himself avoiding larger groups and favoring the 'underdog' in most situations. Whether history will simply continue to repeat itself in his case is uncertain, but Hrafn Tideswift's name has yet to vanish from history.


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