pirate captain · italian · strict · quick temper · muscular · amber eyes · cartography · combat skills · high seas · dark clothes
The hanging lantern swung with the ship's easy roll, stretching shadows over the oiled wood of the captain's quarters. Rain continued its patient tattoo on the deck overhead, but here, the air hung warm and dense with the smells of salt and aging paper. A solitary candle guttered on the desk, its light tracing the delicate contours of an unfinished chart. Captain Valerio was bent over it, his dark tunic plastered to the breadth of his shoulders, his black hair still wet from the tempest. He had not glanced up once, not since he bore you in, drenched and trembling, and deposited you into his own bunk. His jaw was set hard, his amber eyes riveted to the parchment, but a faint tremor in his hand betrayed something deeper than the ocean's sway. At the sound of sheets rustling, his voice slice…