“ Jer’cho ‘awkes... Jer'cho 'awkes...
Aye, I’ve ‘eard th’ name. Looks a human but drinks an’ fights like an orc, tha’ one does.
Whatcha wan’ ‘im fer? Cuz if yer lookin’ fer a berth outta here, it’s like th’ man c’n find ye a slip on th’
Moon, no warries an’ I’ll send ye right on yer way to ‘im, aye? But if it be trouble yer lookin’ fer outta th’ lad, I’d be warnin’ ye ta think diff’rent-like, cuz he’d be just’s ‘appy ta give ye
tha’, too, an’ ye wouldnae be likin’ th’ outcome as well’s t’other, I g’rantee…” --
overheard in a dockside tavern in Freeport
Name: Jericho Hawkes
Age: Mid-thirties or thereabouts as best he can figure
Appearance: Jericho is tall and solidly built, standing 6’2” and weighing in at just over 13 stone (about 190 lbs, or so); hard muscled and solid but not bulky. He is obviously human but his exact heritage is difficult to discern (he has mentioned from time to time that his parents were from Thalburg in the Ivory Ports). His hair is a somewhat wild spill of dark, coffee-colored locks (interspersed with seemingly random braided and beaded tendrils) that hangs past his shoulders and may hang farther if it weren’t so often restrained by the bandanas tied about Jericho’s head. His rather scruffy looking mustache and goatee are the same dark color as the hair on his head but are not worn long, braided, or beaded in any fashion. His skin has been tanned and weathered by years on the sea and, his eyes, often squinted by sun and spray, are a warm cinnamon color that sparks with an almost glittery golden light when he’s amused but can just as easily go black and cold when he’s angered.
Distinguishing Marks: Jericho is marked by numerous blemishes that tell the tale of his life – countless faded and pale lines across his back speak to past acquaintances with the lash and the crudely branded symbol on his right shoulder lets it be known that the whip which carved those lines belonged to a slaver. There are a number of other scars, great and small, old and new, here and there, that denote an unabashed acquaintance with violence of other sorts, as well. Aside from these and the distinctive manner in which he wears his hair, the only other truly notable thing is a “birthmark,” vaguely reminiscent of a dragon in flight, which marks the back of his neck. This dragon is often hidden behind the spill of his hair and the tails of the scarves it’s so often bound in, but, on occasion, it can be seen and is, perhaps, the one blemish that Cap’n Hawkes doesn’t have a story for.
Attire: Jericho’s typically wears dark colored breeches (his favored pair are actually striped a deep purple and black), the legs of which disappear into the tops of knee-high boots of supple black leather. About his waist is cinched a broad belt from which his blades are usually slung (and under which, from time to time, pistols are tucked) and above this, a loose tunic of a lightish color (calling it white wouldn’t be precise). He has also been known to wear a leather jerkin over all of this, on occasion, and customarily dons bracers of that same tooled leather on his forearms. It’s not unusual, aboard ship, for Jericho to go without his boots (bare feet are always surer on wet decks than boots are, after all) and it’s almost as common, particularly in warmer seasons, for him to go shirtless, as well.
Possessions: His most prized “possession” is, of course,
Smuggler’s Moon, herself – although he technically believes that the ship belongs to his crew as much as it does to him. There is always a long-knife hanging from his belt and his favorite cutlass (which is more appropriately described as some sort of exotic scimitar) is never far from reach if it is not also slung from his belt or a baldric. Jericho also owns a pair of finely crafted pistols which he acquired from the
Moon’s previous captain after having taken the ship. He seldom carries these while striding his own decks and would prefer to go blade-to-blade or hand-to-hand in a fight but doesn’t hesitate to carry or use them when the situation calls for it.
History/Present:
Early Years
Jericho Hawkes was born at sea.
His father, Jaherys Hawkes, was a successful merchant captain from the Ivory Ports who, having promised his wife, Jeyne, a trip to far-off Hamunaptra when next his ships sailed for that distant and exotic land, never expected her to be with child, let alone so close to bringing that child into the world, when that time for that trip came. Jaherys, of course, tried to convince Jeyne that there would be many more opportunities for her to see Hamunaptra and that the wiser course of action would be for her to remain in Thalburg where the impending birth of their child would be far less risky. Jeyne was astrong-willed and stubborn lass, though, and reminded her husband that Hamunaptra was a long sail and, should she do as he asked, their first born would be well older than his first year when his father returned and that the next float for those far-flung shores might not come for a year or more after that… No, she
would come with him on
this trip. She was sure the babe would wait until they managed a wayport on the journey, anyway. So it was that Jeyne Hawkes, large with child, came to accompany her husband aboard the
Swan of Vallos when it set sail from Thalburg, Hamunaptra-bound… and so it was that, only three days later, Jaherys’ fleet found itself at anchor north and west of the Wyvern Isles as Jeyne gave birth.
The
Swan, perhaps, hadn’t
needed to anchor in order for the Lady Hawkes to have brought her Captain’s son in to the world and, it could be argued that the delay in the voyage was caused by little more than the Captain's desire to have the ship "at ease" for his wife's comfort while she delivered his son... “A day becalmed is little off our schedule, lads,” Jaherys had said, “The Swan skips the waves like a pebble on a pond. She’ll give us back the day we lose, Badessey bless us.” The
Swan of Vallos was indeed a fast ship , perhaps the fastest to have sailed from the Ivory Ports in its time, and with the fair winds that would have followed that day, she would have more than recouped from the unexpected time at rest. Unfortunately, the delay happened to set the
Swan in the sights of an orc pirate crew sailing from the Bone Lands and, before she managed to get under full sail, Hawkes’ ship was overtaken and beset by
Bloodtusk. Jericho was born as his father and most of the ship's crew died. The handful of women and children aboard (along with a few surviving crew) were taken as "slaves and prizes" for the
Bloodtusk’s crew.
Why the infant Jericho wasn’t given over to the sea or the orcish cook-pots is unclear; whether it was because Jeyne managed to conceal the newborn, somehow, or made some hideous deal with Captain Krommush to spare her son matters little in the end. Regardless of the hows and whys of it, Jericho’s earliest years and first memories were forged on the decks of that orcish ship. Being a human child in the company of orcs, hobgoblins, and the like, those years weren’t exactly gentle. In fact, like those others who had been spared death on the
Swan of Vallos, Jericho’s life aboard the
Bloodtusk equivocated to little more than the miserable and brutal existence of a slave. Despite whatever deal his mother had made with Krommush, Jericho was pressed into service aboard the ship as soon as he was able to walk and, as is common aboard such vessels, service came with humiliation, beatings, and worse. As miserable an existence as it was, though, life aboard the
Bloodtusk also planted the seeds of the toughness and cunning that are, perhaps, the larger parts of Jericho’s character to this day. Another of the larger facets of Jericho’s personality, tolerance, was rough-hewn into him following the birth of his brother.
By his best reckoning, it was in Jericho’s fifth year that, after having been raped by Captain Krommush (again), his mother gave birth to Khashnagob (or, simply "Khash"). Being the half-brother of the orc Captain's son improved his treatment aboard the orc ship; though it was not by much, it was enough to make a difference, opening Jericho’s eyes to the fact that, despite the sometimes misguided ways in which they went about it, it seemed that
all folk (be they human, orc, or otherwise) simply wanted to be free to live their lives and that they
all had the capacity for compassion of some sort… That realization went as far to improving Jericho’s outlook on life as the improved treatment among the
Bloodtusk’s crew had. It wasn’t long thereafter, though, that whatever understanding had come of his brother’s birth became a moot point aboard the orc ship. Khash was less than a year old when the
Bloodtusk was set upon by privateers operating out of Freeport...
Most aboard the
Bloodtusk, including Jericho’s mother, were killed in that assault. A few were captured and brought aboard the Freeport vessel (among them, Jericho Hawkes carrying his infant half-orc brother) before the orc ship was scuttled. On the voyage to Freeport, the prisoners from
Bloodtusk were “interrogated” and, based on those interviews, categorized and separated – the lot who had
obviously been willing crew under Krommush kept in irons and relegated to the hold; those who had been pressed into service or kept as slaves were given the opportunity to join the privateer’s crew and, if they declined, were still allowed rations and a place to sleep on the decks until the ship put in at Freeport where they would be put ashore to find their own fates. Jericho and Khash weren’t offered a place on the crew, of course, and, since Jericho was viciously protective of his baby-brother, they weren’t allowed to freely roam the decks, either; instead, they were confined to a small cabin in the forecastle until they arrived in Freeport and thereupon were taken by the quartermaster to the Star of the Sea orphanage.
Jericho fought as viciously in the orphanage as he had on the ship to keep from being separated from his brother, too. Perhaps more so for, at the Star of the Sea, there seemed to always be someone who wanted to ‘adopt’ one of the boys but not the other – a hobgoblin wizard from Bloodsalt had come for Khash, at one point, and a tavern keeper from the Warehouse District for Jericho at another; both left empty-handed (and with a bit less skin) when Jericho violently refused to have either his brother or himself “sold.” The Hawkes brothers weren’t long for the Star of the Sea… they tolerated it only long enough for Khash to have grown enough to walk on his own and, in the middle of one foggy night, ‘escaped’ from the orphanage and disappeared into the labyrinthine streets of Freeport. There the Hawkes brothers raised themselves as best they could, begging and stealing and fighting and running and hiding, until Jericho, landsick and yearning for the sea, decided that Khash was of an age that
both of them might find their way aboard one ship or another. So it was that Jericho and Khash Hawkes once more found their way back to sea. The brothers served (always together) aboard a number of different ships (merchantmen, privateers, and pirate and smuggler’s ships alike) in the following years and earned themselves decent reputations as sailors and fairly fearsome ones as fighters. Both of them were happy with their lot. On occasion, they joked and dreamed about one day having a ship and crew of their own but they likely would have been content to ship-hop for the rest of their lives and never expected such a thing to ever happen… and the truth of it is, when they did finally get a ship of their own, it was almost by accident.
Rise of the Smuggler’s Moon
The ever-shifting population of Eortis rests at five hundred or so lost souls, with a hundred swabs arriving every month to make up for the three to five that die every day. Few pass of from natural causes, unless you count a dagger in the back as “natural.” Sanitation is non-existent and you get to eat only what food you can catch. There is a grog shop owned by a retired brigand who answers to the name of LeVacher. He isn’t a big believer in credit and he places a great deal of faith in his twinned double-barreled pistols’ ability to keep his customers from getting unruly. There are no brothels, though there are a number of individuals who will gladly accept food or coin for sexual favors. Boarding and sleeping accommodations range from the beach to the rare unused cave. No honest ship ever docks at Eortis. The only way off is a pirate’s berth, which brings us to the beginning of the tale as to how Jericho Hawkes came into possession of the ship now known as the
Smuggler’s Moon.
A few years ago, Jericho and his brother, Khash, found themselves marooned on Eortis after the trade galley they had been working on sank in a storm. They had been exposed to the island’s charms just long enough to have made a few acquaintances (most notably, a lovely half-elven bard named Saercyn Willow) and begin to go stir-crazy.
One night in LaVacher’s, Jericho, Khash, and Willow were half-drunkenly/half-seriously talking about trying to fashion a raft in order to get off the wretched island when Antoine Boissiere, a thug of dubious reputation, approached them with an offer. Antoine and his brother, Gerard, needed to swiftly acquire a few hands to help them deal with a windfall situation that had just come to their attention; a ship had been forced to berth in one of the islands tiny coves due to a recent hurricane and it was “ripe for the plucking.” They had canoes and some swabs, Antoine had said, but not enough experienced men to get the job done proper… Would Jericho and his mates be interested in a share of the prize and a trip off of this rock?
Desperate to put Eortis behind them, Jericho and Khash readily agreed to Antoine’s proposal. Willow agreed, too, but had some concerns (legitimate ones, at that) that Boisierre’s offer was just a little too convenient. So, while Antoine went to meet with Gerard, she and the Hawkes boys set about checking into the Boisierres’ past. They learned that Gerard was a bit of a lout but a leader of successful raids. Antoine, it seemed, had a distinct kinship with sharks and a wise hand wouldn’t show a back to the man. Neither of them were regarded as liars, though, and the rumor was that they needed experienced hands because their last raid, while successful, had gotten a lot of men killed. Those that survived had no complaint with their shares, though… and it seemed that the real truth behind the Boisierre’s desperation for hands on the double was simple: they believed that it was no mere passing merchant ship that lied in the cove, but a supply ship from the Ivory Ports. Such a prize was worth many risks, of course… including bringing on untried men.
Gerard, while an obnoxious individual, seemed to have a decent plan worked out. They had two long canoes and a pair of hourglasses to coordinate timing. Jericho, Khash, Willow and some of Boisierre’s swabs would take one of the canoes and row just beyond the cove while Antoine, Gerard, and the rest of their men would bring their canoe east of the harbor mouth. At four bells, as indicated by their hourglasses, they would row in and simultaneously attack both sides of the anchored ship, hopefully taking them by surprise in the pre-dawn hours. Jericho and his mates made a few suggestions where the plan was concerned (to which Gerard readily agreed in most cases) and set off soon thereafter to put it into action. It wasn’t long after that Jericho and crew discovered the reason why Gerard lost so many hands on his raids was simple: he didn’t show up on time.
The canoe carrying Jericho, Khash, and Willow reached the ship (named
Isabella at the time) on time and alone, the Boisierres and their men nowhere in sight, and, in order to storm the ship before the alarm could be raised, could ill afford to wait. So, with muttered prayers or signs of luck, Jericho and crew boarded with little hesitation. Luck and prayers were favored that night, it seems; most of the
Isabella’s crew was drunk or asleep when Jericho and his mates climbed on to the deck… it was a precious second for the Hawkes’ but, still, only a second… They were discovered quickly enough… shouts of alarm and pistol shots cracked the stillness of the morning dark… the clashing of steel replaced gunfire for a moment and
Isabella’s alarm bell sounded. Jericho and his lot were outnumbered two to one by the merchantman’s crew already and the clarion call of that bell swayed odds even further from their favor as the rest of
Isabella’s crew roused themselves and joined the fray. Gunfire erupted again when the ship’s Captain dove from his cabin, blunderbuss roaring to blast bloody chunks from two of Jericho’s swabs who had the misfortune of being closest to the man’s door…
Isabella’s captain – a man named De Sosos, they would later learn – brought pistols to bear, then, and Khash (who had been charging the Captain even before the two salts died) roared as a lead ball tore through his shoulder… Jericho kicked a man over the gunwales and cut his way through two more trying to get to his brother and, in the doing, found himself blade to blade with De Sosos.
De Sosos’ skill with a rapier was considerable, no doubt. So much so that Jericho could pay attention to nothing else… he didn’t hear the gunfire resume when Gerard’s canoe finally showed up some three minutes later… he didn’t hear the tide of the battle around him shift in favor of his brigands again… He
did hear Khash howling madly when DeSosos had him on the retreat across the quarterdeck, though... So did Captain De Sosos… and that was all the distraction Jericho had needed. One spinning slash of his cutlass took DeSosos’ sword hand and the next took his head. The merchant captain’s body hit the deck with a wet thud and the next sounds Jericho heard were those of steel clattering to the decks and pleas for mercy as
Isabella’s crew surrendered… He was leaning breathlessly on the gunwales, assessing his wounds and searching for Khash and Willow among the ebbing chaos… he found Khash closing on an overly-exuberant Gerard Boisierre – he and Antoine were celebrating chortling out orders as if they had taken the ship themselves.
“Yer a scurvy cuttlefish o’ a coward, G’rard,” Khash had growled, lumbering menacingly toward the Boisierres as Jericho made his way to the maindeck.
“A mistake,” Gerard had tried to laugh from behind a mirthless grin, “A slight difference in the hourglasses we used to coordinate our efforts. We paddled as fast as we could once we heard the shots.”
“A bloody lie,” Jericho sneered in answer to that, sidling up beside Khash, then. “I reckon me wee brother’s got th’ right o’ it, mate. Th’ fightin’ was all but done ere ye slithered aboard, aye? There be more’n a
slight discrep’ncy…”
“You dare call me a liar?” Gerard looked beyond incredulous, his face reddening with embarrassment and purpling from rage at the same time.
“A liar,” Jericho nodded, eyeing Boisierre’s hand as it eased toward the hilt of his blade, “aye…”
“An’ a coward, Jarek,” Khash added, “don’ fergit ‘e’s a lily-livered coward.”
“An’ a coward,” Jericho affirmed, not taking his eyes from Gerard, “Be ye denyin’ ye ain’t?”
Gerard
was denying it, of course… so vehemently, in fact, that he insisted on an immediate duel to answer the ‘slight to his honor’ (as if he had any to begin with). Space was cleared on the deck, lanterns were hung for proper lighting, and the duel commenced.
Gerard Boisierre proved to be almost as good with a blade as Captain DeSosos had been…
almost… The tide of the battle ebbed and flowed restlessly between the combatants for a long while – Gerard pressing, initially, only to misstep and find himself forced to retreat in the face of Jericho’s torrent of flashing steel ¬– and the cheering of the crowd, too, rode that same tide with most of Bosierre’s men lending their hoots and hollers to whichever of the duelers was winning at the moment. As the fight wore on, taking its toll on Jericho and Gerard alike, the crowd seemed to press closer in hopes, it seemed, of forcing a mistake from one or the other that would bring it all to an end.
It hadn’t taken much longer. Both men were weary but it was Gerard who succumbed to it first. Following a wild, sweeping slash that not only missed its mark but left him wide open, Boisierre took a kick to the chest that jarred his own blade from his hand and sent him reeling toward the gunwales. Jericho had seized the momentum and was advancing on him, cutlass poised to deal a final and fatal blow, when Gerard drew a pistol and leveled it at Hawkes…
… he never managed to pull the trigger… Khash, Willow, and Jericho all put blades in the man before his finger could so much as twitch.
“A liar, a coward, an’ a cheat, t’boot,” Khash grumbled as Gerard died, “I tol’ ye, Jarek…”
“Aye, Khash-mate,” Jericho breathed, nodding to his brother and wrapping an arm around Willow’s shoulders, “so ye did…”
“I suppose,” Willow smiled, then, “that means the ship is yours, my
Captain…” Her honeyed eyes turned pointedly to Antoine, “Unless there’s another who might care to challenge the claim?”
Antoine raised his hands in submission; “Nay… Gerard deserved what he got… the ship is yours…”
(( A bit more to this but I’ll fill in later on…
))
Shadows of the Empire Q&A
Shadows of the Empire
Neva
it... and it goes pretty well perfectly with all of this, I think. 
)
