Post by Augustine on Oct 5, 2022 10:41:40 GMT
Davy Jones
Generalities
Name: Davy Jones
AKA: Wraith of the Sea
Age: 432
Gender: Male
Race: Devil
Faction: Descendants of Charon
Squad:
Role: Captain
Battle Theme: Almost anything by Alestorm
Rank: D
Red Orbs: 200/1000
(-800 Black Iron Plate and the Captain's Cannon)Blue Orbs: 0/400
(-400 from the Brace of Pistols)Character Description
Physical Appearance(s): Davy Jones is as imposing as one would expect of the devil that became the personification of one’s ship falling to the sea. He stands near seven feet tall, with ashen grey hair, and pallid, worn skin, punctuated with bright, glowing red eyes. His physique doesn’t look all that unusual by human standards, but few see it, given his usual get up. A rather complicated and ornate uniform of metal, cloth and leather. Leather breaches, with blackened metal greaves, the kneepads decorated in the manner of the beasts he hunted in the demon realm, with heavy boots tipped with old bronze.
A metal breastplate is worn beneath a large black trenchcoat, the sleeves red, with spiked pauldrons on the shoulders, and gauntlets with decorative wings at the ends, and three prominent spikes rising up from the back of the breastplate, through holes in the trenchcoat. It is an outfit that screams either of a fool of a sailor asking to be drowned, or a captain so self-assured in his abilities that he’ll never have to test his strength at swimming against the weight of the metal.
Personality: Jones can be described as cavalier, or if one wishes to be more spiteful, reckless. He has little regard for planning ahead or taking a careful approach, he strides or sails boldly into any situation and pursues what he wants with the straightforward attitude of one used to simply taking what they want by force. Subtlety is not something he is particularly well known for. Which isn’t to say he can’t employ stealth, just that that stealth is at some point, going to end with something going boom and several someones dead. Sneak around the guard? Sneak up to the guard, slit their throat and press on.
He’s also quite a friendly and jovial chap. He’ll crack jokes, and greet anyone as a friend, even enemies, although in the latter case it may have a mocking edge to it. There’s few things better than celebrating a hard fought victory with a round of drinks, except the battle itself of course! However, while he’ll be friendly and polite with just about anyone, he greatly prefers the company of other dogs of the sea, and isn’t much for polite small talk for the sake of it, and will happily walk out of a situation he doesn’t want to be in to seek out more suitable company.
He’s a big fan of alcohol, human alcohol doesn’t have much effect on him, but it’s still quite enjoyable as just a normal drink to him. He prefers brandy over rum if you can believe it, and likes particularly spicy foods.
Let none of this fool you though. Behind the boisterous attitude is a shrewd and cunning mind, with a surprisingly adept grasp of numbers. Having to attend
Backstory
The tale of Davy Jones begins in the demon realm, as one would expect of a full-bloooded Devil like himself. He grew up on a demonic port city set upon the shores of Murimuria, which was the very lifeblood of the city. Great demonic galleons sailed the waters, and his own parents were themselves whalers. Much like the human world, there was a great industry around the hunting of whales, although the whales of the endless waters of Murimuria were of a far more dangerous breed than those of the mundane world.
Once Jones was of age, he signed onto a whaling vessel himself and stood out as a capable, strong hand and quick mind. It was not long before he began to rise up in status, the First Mate of the ship relying on him particularly in helping command the crew and sort out the hunts. It was a good life, and Davy Jones was as satisfied as a devil could be. The first mate was a fine fellow too, although the captain was somewhat cagey. Some in the crew remarked that it felt like whales weren’t what the captain was interested in, and indeed, there were times when they spent longer at sea than seemed reasonable, or ignored clear signs of whales to continue on in another direction.
Still, their ship never returned empty handed, the pay was good, and the first mate, Morgan, was a good devil to serve under. Many in the crew thought of him as captain more than that crusty old devil Nautilus. This continued for decades, until Jones was pushing into his fifties, still in the very prime of his youth, when one day on a particularly long voyage, Nautilus stepped out onto the deck, and well, gave quite a speech. In short, he claimed that they were near a rare event, something that occurred only once a century, if even that, a way through the watery abyss to the human world beyond. A rich prize, a chance to head to this world, and load the ship up with wonders from a different world and bring them back home. They’d be rich, hailed as heroes, a long voyage into the human world and back for wealth and rewards beyond their wildest dreams.
The human world was a mythical thing to many devils. The legendary realm that the ancient devil Sparda had fought to protect from ravaging demons. A place that had been unable to defend itself but rich with opportunities. If any in the crew didn’t want to go, they were drowned out by the raucous cheers of the crew, and thus did the ship sail into a tremendous storm, a maelstrom of frightening proportions. The ship damn near capsized in the process, with Jones acquitting himself well in helping the first mate delegate to the crew to keep things going, but they passed through the eye of the storm…and the skies changed, the water shifted in color, and the very air tasted strange and different.
The crew of Captain Nautilus had passed into the human world, somewhere around the year 1640, give or take a few years. The crew were delighted, and Nautilus was excited, and as promised, there was little in the Atlantic Ocean that could stand up to them. The whales of this world were child’s play to hunt, and the human vessels? They may as well have been made of matchstick. Demonic cannons bellowed, and howling devils swarmed decks. For several years the ship proceeded, growing heavy with cargo, but years at sea were a lot for even devils. They had plenty of cargo, how much more could they take? Talk of heading home began to pop up among the crew. Talk that even Morgan seemed to disapprove of, discouraging them from talking about it to their confusion.
This boiled to a head when they made land on a deserted island, to bury the loot they’d amassed up to this point, hiding it away just so they had room to plunder more! Some among the crew murmured wondering what the damn point was. If this was a once in a century chance how were they meant to come back? Were they to become carpenters next and build their own ships? Were they to steal these flimsy human vessels and use those?
Come to think of it. If this was a once in a century chance, how were they supposed to get back without waiting a hundred years?
Davy Jones quite enjoyed the lifestyle but he was empathetic to the crew. He realized that they hadn’t been told how long they’d been out here, and Nautilus had strongly implied they’d be able to head back on their own terms. He hadn’t explicitly said it, but well, swept up in a speech and presented an opportunity, it wasn’t hard to goad people into not thinking about the full ramifications of a choice. Jones noticed the crew’s growing disgruntlement, and they grew more vocal about demanding to know when they’d have enough and would leave, what the point of this plunder was if they were just going to bury it on some human island that couldn’t be reached from the demon realm. Eventually Morgan couldn’t stop this from getting to the reclusive captain, who had remained reclusive and obsessive over…who knew what. He often had human prisoners dragged to his cabin to do…well no one was really sure what.
Nautilus’ addressment of the crew involved taking two of the most vocal complainants…and having them keelhauled. While not as brutal and fatal as for a human, it was still a torturous thing to do to anyone, and would leave those crewmen crippled and unable to help with the ship for a good while. As with any story of sailors, human or devil, this was a terrible choice, and while the complaints became less vocal…they grew more heated, and laced with whispered murmurings of violence. Jones was among them, his enjoyment of this life did not trump that the crew were being mistreated, information withheld. Nautilus was a poor captain, and what was more, who had told the captain? There were a few who favored him and still stuck with him.
Mutiny was at hand, the crew plotting and dissent bubbling. Morgan knew something was wrong, the way the crew withdrew from him, doing their jobs in silence, no longer talking when he drew near. Lines began to form in the crew, a scant handful of those in favor of the captain, and those against. Those still loyal to Morgan, and those looking to Jones over the others. For whatever reason Morgan sided with the captain, and as dissent grew and it became clear that violence was ready at any day, Morgan told the captain.
Once more Nautilus was roused from his cabin and whatever he was doing to those humans. He was going to make an example of Davy Jones, yet when he ordered the crew to bring him Jones, a fight broke out between the dissenters and loyalists. There were more dissenters than there were those loyal, but as the conflict spilled to the deck, both sides just inches from trying to cut the other’s throats, Jones stepped forward and proclaimed his challenge. A challenge to Nautilus for the status of captaincy.
Realizing that it would be difficult to crew the ship if he simply killed them all, he accepted, thinking that Jones’ death would shatter the spirit of those trying to rebel. To a lone island they sailed, and each disembarked to opposite sides of the island, before approaching to engage the other. Nautilus was an old demon, but he’d never seemed that strong. However Davy Jones realized as they began fighting, that whatever Nautilus had been doing in his cabin had made him stronger.
Jones though was young and full of vigor, a capable and talented devil. If he needed to he’d resort to dirty tactics, and he’d long grown his skill with the blade. It was a brutal fight, and the old captain came dangerously close to tearing Jones apart…but in the end, the young upstart triumphed, slaying the captain, and claiming the soul of Nautilus, a newly formed devil arm that he bore back to the ship, only to be met with Morgan and his loyalists.
Morgan was no weak devil himself, and had assaulted the loyalists in Jones’ absence, locking them up in the brig and awaiting the captain, only to be met by Jones. The camaraderie the two had built and grown strained finally snapped, and Jones found himself plunged into a fight so soon after the last. Even with Nautilus in his hands, a fight with Morgan in this weakened state was a bad idea..so instead he fell backwards off the deck…and caught himself on a gunport, climbing his way into the ship, and breaking free his crew from the brig!
Even an injured Jones was enough with their numbers to test Morgan and so…Morgan and his loyalists fled on the longboats, abandoning ship and leaving it to Jones…Captain Davy Jones and his crew. Captain Nautilus’ ship, the Jeweled Fingerbone, now belonged to him and he was going to put it to use. Inspecting the Captain’s Quarters and journals, Davy Jones learned a few things. One was that Nautilus had not written down any simple way to discern how the crew could return home. The second was that he had been feeding on the captive humans, devouring them to grow in strength. The third? That Nautilus kept a second journal written in some kind of code. It was a bitter pill for the crew, but as Jones suggested, if they were going to live in this human realm they may as well make the most of it, shouldn’t they?
Thus did the legend of Davy Jones begin, a dread pirate who would inspire fear in sailors across the world. England, Spain, France, China, across the waves his great vessel sailed, and plundered as he wished! He even clashed with a few hunters in his time, but came out still on top, his legend and infamy growing. Sailors whispered his name with fearful breath, speaking of a terrible, evil spirit that plagued the seas, a ghastly ghoul from the depths of hell that would drag you to the depths. They spoke of how those lost at sea became part of his crew, and many other similarly untrue things…but so too did people speak of a dread pirate, named Captain Morgan.
Such rumors did filter to Davy Jones, for he and his crew could not spend all their lives at sea, though no ports would openly welcome them, they still made themselves at home often, discreetly or overtly as they pleased, and after their first ten years with Jones as their captain, even welcomed a few humans into the crew. This was a big turning point. These humans were black hearted pirates through and through, but it still presented a curious new perspective for Jones and the other devils, a chance to learn of these humans more directly, and try to puzzle out something some of them had wondered…why that legendary ancient figure of myth, Sparda, had staked his life and honor for them.
The answers from these blokes didn’t give much answer, but it led to Jones taking more prisoners than he had, to speak with them, to get a better idea of what humans were like. It grew into a slight fascination and as it wound towards twenty years at sea, he and the crew became less…brutal in their tactics. Still a fearsome and frightening thing, but they no longer killed a crew to the man, they’d leave a ship intact if they could, leave a way for them to survive, growing more merciful as Jones and them learned more of humans. Such curious and frail things they were.
Jones' attention also shifted yet further, as Morgan’s reputation continued to grow along with his own. Thoughts of revenge, of sinking Morgan and his ne’er do well followers to the Locker that had been named after him, of seeing if Morgan knew how to crack the code of this journal that Jones had puzzled over for twenty years now. The two encountered each other occasionally, but fighting was always inconclusive, one managing to slip away. Thanks to the few hunters that Jones had encountered, he also began to find ways to amass supernatural knowledge in this Earth, he had never been much of one for magic, but he knew enough to discern…some of the falsehoods rampant in human speculation.
Years passed, to the waning years of the Golden Age of Piracy as it would come to be called, the 1720’s, closing in on a hundred years since they’d arrived. The Jeweled Fingerbone had seen humans age to death among the number, and several of the devils in the crew perish, by hunters or in the most pitched battles when full naval ships engaged them. Davy Jones was one of only a handful of devils, amidst a crew of humans who often stared in awe at the supernatural nature of their captain.
Jones had made progress on Nautilus’ coded journal, but still pieces eluded him. He’d outright consulted with codebreakers of humans, and books on the subject that he could find. He was putting together pieces of the event that had brought them here, written in this secret journal, among other far less interesting things to Jones. He began to figure out more, and put together how to tell when another such once in a century maelstrom was going to open, that they could finally head home. Another five years passed, a small amount compared to the time already spent, and he isolated a specific area, near Greenland, and he was struck with a revelation. That was very near the areas that Captain Morgan was most often seen, and it fell into place.
Morgan knew, Nautilus the old bastard had confided in him, and Morgan had set up his territory there, specifically to wait for the next maelstrom! More to the point, Jones was becoming convinced it was going to be soon, in a few years. Not quite a century but close enough to not matter!
Thus was the course set. It was time to finally put old Morgan down. Jones and his crew weren’t actually certain if they’d head home, it seemed nice…but they’d grown quite accustomed to this life, but how long could it last really? They’d had many close calls before, had to avoid fights with too many ships for even a demonic vessel to handle. Either way though, they all agreed that there was no way in hell they would allow Morgan to return to the demon realm, save for screaming while strapped to a cannonball!
To the Northern Atlantic they sailed, and began the hunt for Captain Morgan. It took some time, Morgan did everything he could to stall…and it was not until the very eve of the great maelstrom, that at least Jones and Morgan stood face to face. Jones had chased him ashore, to a great glacier along the ocean waters, and there at last the two fought.
Jones had grown greatly in power over nearly a century of sailing the seas, but so had Morgan. Their battle shook and cracked the glacier, and Jones seemed the stronger but….
The whole thing was a set up. Morgan had prepared this place long in advance, waiting for the day that Jones would chase him to it. The glacier cracked, it began to break apart…far more than their battle would explain, it threw Jones off balance…and Morgan managed to throw him into one of the chasms…and the Glacier began to close back in on him. Jones reached out, but the ice trapped him, freezing over him, a magical, icy tomb for the upstart devil as Morgan stood triumphant. Jones wasn’t even given the courtesy of death, the glacier freezing back over as Morgan left. Whether he managed to get back to the demon realm or not, Jones knew not, and thus he lay, trapped in ice, for hundreds more years as the world passed him by.
It wouldn’t be until the modern era that his prison would weaken, that glacier breaking apart, the ice melting, and revealing his frozen body, trapped in a messy block of ice. He would eventually emerge, frigid, alive and somehow exhausted despite the time spent sleeping in frozen slumber, stumbling to find some knowledge of how long he had been trapped.
It was the newly formed Descendants of Charon that first found him, at least among devil hunters. A crew responded to panic from a town in Greenland in a panic over some terrible ghoul stalking their streets. They found Jones. They helped him, fed him and got him abreast of just what he’d missed..which as it happened was a tremendous amount. Then, they offered to sail him back to the demon realm, so he could head to whatever home he might have left…or he could join them. The Descendants of Charon were happy to count Devils among their ranks.
The new world was bewildering, this modern technology no different than magic to the old devil. However, it was also fascinating, and the idea of a human world beginning to wake up to magic, to where entire organizations of devil hunters now existed…was intriguing. None of those who found him could tell him of Morgan, but alive or not, that was at least one devil that Jones wanted to hunt, but he had grown weak in his prison. Nautilus had grown dormant, practically unrecognizable from the glorious halberd he had once been. Jones was in no way able to track down and fight Morgan, he’d need to regain his strength, get a new cry, a new ship…and so he took the Descendants up on their offer.
Davy Jones had returned from the Locker, to sail the seas once more!
Traits
Shapeshifting
All devils can shapeshift, or so Jones has been told. He has however, never tried and never had much interest. Even in human society he can pass for a particularly ugly and frightening albino man with a little effort. As a result it’s a power that Jones has never explored or used.
Inhuman Strength
One thing that had not entirely left Jones, was his sheer physical strength. Despite his appearance, he is deceptively strong, ‘the strength of ten men’ one might say, although how accurate is hard to say. Jones’ particular type of devil is usually quite strong, so this isn’t that remarkable, at least not to him.
Equipment
Name: The Captain’s Cannon
Description: A custom made, very heavy pistol that Jones employed in his piracy career. The old version was corroded heavily, but the Descendants were able to tune him into a gunsmith to help remake it and fashion it with more modern upgrades.
The Cannon is more accurately a hand-cannon, it has a long black barrel, with a golden ornamentation around the end with a red handle. It’s a flintlock in nature, with a particularly strange bayonet. The bayonet is two jagged blades running along the barrel, but not past it. It can be used to slash, but not thrust all that easily. The weapon itself packs quite a punch, taking hand-cannon somewhat literally, its projectiles are heavy and hard-hitting!
Upgrade Points: 1
Upgrades:
Ever Loaded (trait-like)
The Captain’s Cannon employs Conjuration to reload itself. However, the weapons heavy recoil, and heavy ammunition still keeps the fire rate low, it’s not a weapon that can be fired quickly.
Name: The Close Shave
Description: A curved, fine dagger that Jones keeps at his belt. It’s a fairly unremarkable tool, if well made, but a good, short blade is always a handy thing to have, and has gotten Jones out of many a close shave.
Upgrade Points: 0
Upgrades: 0
Name: Dread Pirate Plate
Description: The Black armor that Jones wears on his ship and into battle. It’s no simple armor, but is an extremely durable, but also quite heavy set of armor. Easy for someone like Jones to wear, but it could be quite a challenge for someone else, but that weight is a sign of the sheer durability of the armor.
Upgrade Points: 1
Upgrades:
Super Heavy (Trait-like)
The metals it’s made of, and the magic used in the forging process, make this armor quite durable…but also extremely heavy.
Name: A Brace of Pistols
Description: Do you know what someone did if they wanted to fire rapidly in the days of flintlock weaponry? The answer was to carry a lot of guns, specifically pistols. Fire a pistol, drop and draw another, and repeat. Jones was a fan of this strategy as well, and frankly is not all that interested in trying out these modern firearms, they look strange and bizarre to him. Instead, he carries a brace of pistols. They’re modernized sure, as powerful as conventional handguns. A similar magic used for the captain’s Cannon was also employed in their creation, to insure his supply never runs out.
The Brace of Pistols is approximately Twenty in number, placed across his coat to be easily drawn and fired. They almost look like a miniature, lighter version of the Captain’s Cannon, but without any form of bladed bayonet.
Upgrade Points: 1
Upgrades:
Respawning Pistols (Trait-like)
The specially designed pistols that comprise the Brace of Pistols upon being cast aside, return back to where they are holstered in his coat, reloaded and ready for use. Resulting in Jones seeming to have an infinite supply of single-shot pistols to draw, fire toss aside, and draw another.
Name: Bloody Reaver
Description:
Once an impressive and fearsome halberd, Bloody Reaver is the dormant form of Nautilus, a fine hand-axe with a sharpened spike shaped like a bat’s wing protruding from the back.
Traits: 0
Combat Foci
Name: Swashbuckling Buccaneer
Description: Davy Jones is the very image of a pirate captain…albeit a monstrous demon captain. This extends to his main way of fighting as well. He does not tend to use his guns at a distance, but up close and personal, with some manner of weapon in hand. He is a fine and excellent duelist, with fine flourishes and tremendous fencing skills, but this is mixed with underhanded tactics, low blows, salt in the eyes and of course…gunpowder. An axe in the shoulder and a bullet in the gut, and then kick the bastard overboard!
Rank: D
Aspects: 0
Techniques
Name: Technique
Description:
Focus:
Aspects:
