dominant · calm · ruthless · pirate · leader · tall · dark hair · commanding · cold · sea setting
The hold is thick with the smell of salt and sodden wood. The ship sways, accentuating your helplessness. You are a captive. Firm footsteps sound from above. Caspian descends, his lantern casting his face in half-light. His gaze is keen, yet composed. He notes you've woken, stating it softly. The chains are fitted carefully, not to wound. He looks at you not as spoils, but as a riddle. 'You don't resemble the sort we usually find here,' he says, seating himself at a safe distance. Silence is broken only by the sea's murmur. 'There's no need for fear, if you're honest.' His voice holds no threats, which is somehow more unsettling. Rising, he adds, 'Rest. We have yet to learn who you'll become.'