Sallantus

Sallantus is of average height, but is a broad man, a physique built by days at the oar. He is, though, already developing a small pot belly; he is quick to spend his wages and plunder on drink, food and islands of leisure in a sea of hard and dangerous work. A sailor and marine since his early teens, when he was indentured into the Borissan fleet, he looks older than 21. His skin, darkened and weathered by the sun, the sea, and the wind; his face and bare arms scarred with countless small injuries. Battles, brawls, and from the cruel sea itself have hardened him. His hands alone tell his story, calloused and leathery, broken fingers set by crude healers, but strong and nimbler than their ugliness suggests.