Juliette Dante/ Centoraurian/ Marauder

Basic Information

Name Juliette Dante (Captain Dante of the Reckless)
Age 27
Gender Female
Race Human
Tribe Centoraurian
Occupation Marauder/Pirate
Title Cunning Vagabond

Physical Appearance

Height 1.6 Peds
Weight 1 Pygge, 3 Ods
Hair Color Auburn
Eye Color Hazel

A thick mass of auburn curls cascades in full waves down her back, complementing the shimmering beauty of her sun-bronzed skin. While most of her fellow female captains choose to crop their hair short, including her mother, Juliette has a rather strong emotional attachment to the long tresses. And while, unless dressed like one, she is in no danger of being mistaken for a man, she finds a sort of enjoyment in the feminine feeling it lent her whenever she receive's comments on the beauty of it. Usually hidden beneath the reddish locks are two sliver hoops in both of her earlobes, occasionally replaced with gold hoops or gems. Like her hair, she inherited a pair of large, hazel eyes from her mother. A deep green, they hold flecks of light brown around her pupil and even have a thin speckling of blue along the outer rim.

Although rather short and petite, her body is corded with lean muscle. Her legs in particular have a sinewy strength that propels her easily with and down the rigging of her ship. While he hips aren't that wide, the trimness of her waist makes them appear larger than they actually are. Large shapely breasts, a mystery to her as he mother's bosom is almost nonexistent, are almost constantly in danger of spilling out of their confinement. Irritated at having to bind them down, she usually allows them freedom with the exception being during battle.

Often mistaken for a young, pretty boy at sea, Juliette gathers her long hair back into a thick plait and covers it with a blue bandana. The face beneath is usually be streaked with grime. While her shirt is loose-fitting and could hide anything beneath, her breeches are moleskin and molded snugly to hips and legs that are usually what gives away her femininity.

On special occasions, she dresses in tight black doeskin breeches and a snow-white silk shirt with fonts of lace circling the collar and cuffs. The trim shape of her waist would be accentuated by a formfitting black leather doublet that glittered with bands of seed pearls. A short satin cape would be draped artfully over one shoulder, the lining scarlet, the wings turned back to leave her swordarm free. Her hair left to fall in a mass of auburn curls down her back, covered by a flamboyant hat with a sweeping scarlet brim. Tall black boots had wide cuffs folded down over the knee, and at her waist, the exquisitely wrought sword.

Personality

Self confident and perhaps even a little arrogant, she has complete faith in her own abilities, though her trust in others is rather shaky. She commands unequivocal loyalty, compliance and competence from her crew. She's never one to doll compliments out lightly, but, when deserved, her wholehearted praise and genuine smile has been known to leave her men blushing with flattered embarrassment.

Extremely independent, she has yet to allow any man, save her father, to dictate any aspect of her life, not that many haven't tried. The large majority of her lovers have attempted to tame her, to turn her into a respectable wife and mother, which was undoubtedly the reason those relationships failed. Before the words "settle down" even escaped their lips, she was gone. It's not that she merely enjoys her time spent in piracy, she needs it, possibly as much as her body needs nourishment.

When the stress of being the captain of a ship with a crew of seventy-five sea dogs has ceased, she is rather lighthearted and jovial. Swimming, hiking through the dense foliage at Pirate Cay and having a few drinks with her crew are just several of the things she enjoys in her free time. While the crew respect her as a captain, they enjoy her company a great deal more when she is drunk and carefree, which is a rare thing considering she won't allow anything stronger than grog aboard her ship besides her own personal stock.

Strengths

Swordsmanship - Advanced skill in handling a variety of different swords, though her expertise leans more towards the Cutlass. Even though she has considerable strength for her size, she relies mainly on agility and skill to either disarm or kill her opponent. Such finesse could only come from years of diligent hard work and training. Perhaps the only thing that could break through her near perfect form is sheer, brute strength.

Compound Bow - While she has had some training with archery, her skill is only mediocre at best. She doesn't have much problem with stationary targets, as long as they are within a relatively class range, but as soon as movement is thrown into the equation, she might as well be blindfolded. She much prefers the lethal blade of a sword.

Hand-to-Hand Combat - Her father realized that there will be instances where Juliette must resort to fighting unarmed. He taught her the basics of fighting first, throwing in a few tricks he picked up over the years, but there was no way of avoiding the disadvantage she'd have because of her slight frame. She's easily be able to overtake someone of her size, but larger foes would inevitably win any fight with her; unfortunately for Juliette, a large majority of the worlds population towered over her.

The Reckless - With such a large, well-stocked vessel at her disposal, if the idea to travel around the globe manifested itself in her mind, it wouldn't be that unreasonable. There has never been a need for such a trip, but nevertheless, she enjoys the feeling of knowing that she could. Fast, with considerable maneuverability, it'd be child's play to flee from most other ships. It would also be just as easy to demolish any smaller vessel, which she has... numerous times. A large, spacious hull allows for a crew of approximately seventy-five men, a very important asset for her in battle.

Weaknesses

Overly Confident - While she does have considerable reason to be confident in her abilities, there have been occasions where that confidence became cockiness. As of yet, there have been no dire consequences for her, which has only added to her illusion that she is invincible. Her crew sing her praises for it, reveling in the fact that their Captain has never lost a battle. Inevitably, there will come a day where Juliette gets herself into a situation that she cannot overcome or back out of, and the result will not be pleasant.

Weak Shoulder - During one particularly intense battle, Juliette received a vicious blow to her left shoulder with a large, wooden club. Her collarbone and shoulder were both broken, and while she made a full recovery and regained full use of her arm, when under extreme tension her shoulder will lock up, rendering her arm useless.

Joint and Muscle Pain - Years of constantly fighting and laboring on her ship have left Juliette with chronic joint and muscle pain. Usually it doesn't impede on her daily activities and is only somewhat bothersome during battle, but strenuous activity in cold weather and her condition will plague her relentlessly. Obviously enough, she chooses to try and avoid areas with colder climates.

Blunt - Not the kind of person to bother with niceties, Juliette is honest to a fault. While some people may value that quality in a person, a large majority of the people she have meant have labeled her rude, unfeeling and malicious. She doesn't particularly care what others think of her, which only adds to the perhaps too truthful comments she gives.

Thrill-Seeker - Perhaps a sort of adrenaline addict, Juliette has been known to willingly through herself into potentially dangerous situations, all to satisfy her hunger for a thrilling, stimulating experience. Once again, there have yet to be any repercussions for her foolish escapades, and her crew seem to love the adventure, but as the saying goes; there's a first time for everything.

History

For over twenty-five years the Pirate Wolf, Simon Dante, had been the plague of respectable merchant shipping. In his youth he mutineered the Iron Dragon, a ship captained by a merchant by the name of Royce Harrington. Followed by most of it's crew, and several other men of his choosing, he turned the Schooner into a vessel of piracy. He won glory, riches, ships and estates, a direct result from years of harassing, capturing and plundering merchant ships. His wife, Isabeau Spence Dante, was the offspring of a red-haired giant of a pirate who taught his daughter how to master the art of sword fighting by the age of twelve and how to navigate a ship around even the shallowest of waters before her twentieth birthday. Her maps and sea charts were prized by captains of every nationality who sailed on the ocean-sea, and to every cartographer in Santharia, she was known as the Black Swan after the elegantly painted imprint that identified her work.

The Black Swan had also been the name of the ship Simon Dante had given to Isabeau as a wedding gift. She had returned the favor by presenting him with a son, Jonas, nine months later. Another son, Gabriel, had followed within three years, and Juliette ten months after that. None of the three had shown a desire to be anywhere else but on the deck of a ship, and with parents like Simon and Isabeau Dante, it was no surprise they would grow to be a trio of magnificent thorns in the side of respectable merchants. All three had fought for and earned the right to sail at the helm of their own ships. Armed with twelve stationary catapults and eight swivel catapults, the Reckless had been presented to Juliette on her twentieth birthday. The fact that her captain was a woman held no less terror for foreign crews who sighted her sails on the horizon. Most ships ran up as many sheets as they could carry and fled before the wind, for to see the Reckless' pyramid of canvas turning into the chase usually meant her brother's ships, the Tribute and the Valour, were not far off her beam. And woe betide the arrogant captain of any vessel who thought only to shake off the three pups pursuing him; chances were better than nine out of ten that the Pirate Wolf himself, Simon Dante, would have already circled his Avenger around to lie in wait off their bows.

Starting in childhood, Juliette had been rigorously taught to expertly wield both a sword and a compound bow. Simon, Isabeau and several members of their crew would spend hours a day in training with her. It was neither her father or mothers insistence that her training would be as such, it was Juliette herself that demanded it. Sparring with her brothers had always been an interesting way to pass the time, especially when her skill, and perhaps luck, won out over their brute strength. Her skill came in handy on numerous occasions, one such event leading to the start of her first romantic affair.

As she had often heard her father say in the moments before the first broadside of catapults were fired, it was a fine day to die. The sun was a searing white eye in a sky so blue and clear it pained the soul to stare upward too long. Staring anywhere for even the briefest split second was not an option, however, for in the blink of an eyelash there was another flesh of cold steel, another shock of contrast as the two blades clashed together, sliding their full length in a shower of blue sparks. Juliette had begun to feel the strain in her wrist. She withstood her opponent's enrages offense as long as she could, then broke away, spinning and crouching low in one fluid motion, letting instinct take over where strength failed. A second shadow loomed behind her, the face bloodied but the eyes focused with lethal intent, and Juliette cursed. She sprang to the side but found herself cornered, the flames of a burning spar on one side, and shimmering blade of a cutlass on the other. The two men, desperate for their own lives moments before, saw her predicament and closed rank, crowding her against the rail. One of them muttered under his breath and grabbed his crotch. The other laughed and licked the filthy tips of his fingers in agreement.

Juliette's sword slashed out in a brilliant flare of light. The laughing man saw those fingers fly off his hand and land with a skitter of red splashes on the deck. While he was busy finding the breath to scream, she swung at his cohort and cut a wider grin on his face, one that went from ear to ear and severed the jugular clean through. She used her boot to kick him aside when he started to fall forward, then leaped gracefully over the twitching body as another snarling attacker rushed to take his place. Juliette raised her sword, her slender body braced to meet a mighty downward stroke intended to cleave her skull in half. The impact shuddered through her arms and jarred her shoulders, bending her back over the catapult-wall. The savagery of the blow drew a grunt, then a curse, but she was able to deflect the blade long enough to reach into her belt with her left hand and unsheathe her dagger. The blade was 2 palmspans long, sharp as a needle, and it went through the man's leather doublet like a finger through lard.

Juliette barely had time to regain her balance when she caught the glint of a steel-pot helmet and cutlass of another attacker. Out of nowhere, a streak of violet and silver lace cut across Juliette's path. A slash of steel knocked aside the attackers blade. The stranger's sword glittered again, finding a vulnerable gap between the cutlass and the exposed band of skin beneath his helmet, and the man heeled backward in a gout of bright red blood. Juliette saw the flash of a grin as her rescuer turned and extended a gloved hand to lift her away from the rail. "Are you all right?" Juliette found herself staring into the deepest, darkest blue eyes she had ever seen. They were partly shadowed by the brim of a elegant cavaliers hat the one side cocked up at a jaunty angle, topped by a plum dyed the same shade of violet as his doublet and breeches. "Ma'am?" Instead of answering, Juliette drew her cutlass, the blade flying past his broad shoulder into the chest of a man who was about to slay one of her crewmen only a ped or so away. The midnight blue eyes followed the thrust, then flicked back to Juliette. The grin reappeared, wide and very white through a neatly trimmed mustache and imperial. "Fine aim. And yes, I can see you are very much all right."

On this occasion, Juliette had been alone, intending to take the Reckless to sea only to test the strength of a new rudder design. She had been startled herself to emerge from a tropical squall and stumble across the two battling ships. At first she had thought the rumble of roaring men to be lingering thunder, but when the rain had passed and the mist had thinned, the lookouts had spied the Maiden Anne blasting the Argus to kindling. The former had gone under the guise of a ship burning from the inside out with no chance of dispelling the flames. The Argus stopped in an attempt to evacuate the crew of the burning ship, only to have their own vessel boarded and under attack of pirates. Now Juliette had an enormous treasure, found aboard the Maiden Anne, three hundred prisoners, and an 10160 Pygges warship on her hands, none of which made her particularly happy. But it wasn't until after the battle that she had the opportunity to really meet her rescuer, Patrick Turk. After volunteering himself as a temporary member of her crew, it wasn't long before their professional relationship grew into something more. While the affair lasted only as long as he remained part of her crew, approximately 7 months, they shared many intimate nights together, one of which she will never forget; his first night aboard her ship.

One night Juliette slept on deck, stretched out on a canvas sling, one arm resting over her head, the other tucked alongside her hip. One leg was folded at the knee and the other hung freely over the side of the hammock, the bare toes gleaming like little pearls under the moonlight. Patrick had been provided with one of the hellish devices at the previous night and had fallen out twice before managing to master it. But the captain looked as comfortable as a kitten in a basket, rocking gently with the motion of the ship, her hair out of its braid and trailing over the side, the ends drifting like a dark cloud as she swayed to and fro. He knew he should retreat before she awakened and saw him standing there. His feet did not respond to his commands to take him back inside, however. His eyes proved to be rebellious as well, choosing not to look at the incredibly clear sky or the river of phosphorescent seawater the unfurled in a silvery path behind the ship. They preferred to linger instead on the pale arch of her throat, to follow the edge of her shirt where it had become twisted to one side and lay open over her breast. She had fine, trim ankles, too. Supple calves. And thighs that had already shocked him with their sinewy strength.

"Have you ever been told it is impolite to stare, my lord?"
The whispered query sent his gaze snapping up to her face. Her eye were open beneath a dark brow that was arched upward with curiosity.
"There is a difference," he said slowly, "between staring.. and admiring."
"Is that what you were doing? Admiring?"
"I am not a monk, madam."
"Faith, but it would be a waste if you were."
The observation was made with a husky honesty. While the crescent moon had rendered Juliette's skin a pale, creamy blur where it peeped through her shirt, it gilded Patrick's broad shoulders with bold stroke, emphasizing every curve of muscle on his chest, every hard band over the ribs, and the sight cause Juliette to experience something strangely like the sparks of St. Elmo's Fire they witnessed earlier.

She had a handful of other lovers throughout the rest of her life, but recently has been content to stay her her families base in The Burning Sea, appropriately named Pirate Cay. It was the fifth in a small string of islands, nestled in the middle and rising higher than the others, that housed the most sought-after secret in that part of the worlds ocean. Formed roughly in the shape of a C with overlapping arms, it had once been the uppermost rim of a volcano. An ancient upheaval on the sea floor had cracked the rim and created a natural deep-water harbor in the bowl of the crater, a harbor completely shielded by walls of seemingly impenetrable rock. Simon Dante had discovered the island sanctuary purely by accident some thirty years before when a storm of horrendous proportions had produced fifty-foot waves and swept his ship over the razored teeth of coral reef. It had taken him nearly six months to repair the damage to the keel of his beloved Virago and find a way out again - time enough to explore all five islands. She'll make routine trips out to sea for fun and sport, but her home is at Pirate Cay.

Weapons

Cutlass - A short, thick sabre, with a slightly curved blade sharpened on the cutting edge, and a hilt featuring a solid cupped guard. Her weapon of choice, it's the perfect sword for close combat fighting, the likes of which she encounters during every battle at sea.

Compound Bow - Carved from only the choicest piece of wood, the elegant carving of a black swan can be found at either tip of the arch, compliments of her mother. Used before boarding, it is an affective way to slowly begin to pick off easy targets of the enemy ship.

The Reckless

The Reckless is a four-mast sailing ship with square-rigging on the foremast and mainmast, and lateen-rigging on the mizzenmast. It has a high rounded stern with an aftcastle and a forecastle, and a bowsprit at the stern. Being a rather large ship, it offers the space for a crew of seventy-five men, provisions and cargo, as well as being virtually impregnable to attack from smaller ships. The combination of four sails allow for a fair degree of flexibility - the large square sails provide propulsion, but are reduced in size during storms. The smaller sails at bow and stern allow for maneuvering, and the lateen sails allow for sailing across the wind. In addition the stable deck makes the vessel an effective catapult platform, housing twelve stationary catapults and eight, smaller swivel catapults.

Belongings

Copper Scope
Compass
Flint
Dried meat
Grog
Change of clothes
Small leather pouch