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Philokrates Hellas

Vital stats

Full Name: Philokrates Hellas
Nicknames: Phi, Phish, Bookworm
Gender: Male
Species: Merfolk
Age: Twenty-three
Height: 5’8”
Weight: 148lbs
Build: Lean but well muscled; a swimmer’s body
Distinguishing Features: Vivid aqua hair and eyes, distinctly aqua cast to the skin. Retractable webbing on the fingers, webbed toes which are long in proportion to the foot. No visible ears, large fin-like appendages approximately where these would be. Tattoo on the left shoulder. Large scar over the left eye. No body hair.
Orientation: ???
Alignment: Chaotic neutral


More detail

Ship: ???
Position: Fighter
Strengths: Intelligent, educated, quick reflexes, strong, able to breath underwater, excellent swimmer, good underwater vision, not badly affected by cold temperatures
Weaknesses: Not very tough, can be more than a little unwise and reckless, intolerant of dry conditions, cannot run or walk long distances well due to foot structure
Weapon Of Choice: Shortsword
Family: ???
Marital Status: Single
Likes: Reading, swimming, pillaging, loyalty, good wine, good whiskey, rum, raw fish, attractive personages, good conversation
Dislikes: Idiots, bullies, cowards, traitors, people who mistreat books, excessive cussing, bad wine
Quote: “Tally ho.” “Oh shove off and take your excessive hair with you, you overgrown, puffed up monkey.”


Personality



Biography

Friend and foe

Writings

1: I saw three ships; oh dear. - This is the RP entry that won me Philokrates ^^

I saw three ships; oh dear

The aqua haired merman studied the scene around him with the kind of calm that only comes the other side of abject panic. He and his fellows were outnumbered by more than two to one already, and there was another ship still coming for them through the deep darkness of a moonless winter night. Sometimes, he considered as he watched a bluecoat take down a young deckhand not far away, the captain was not the wisest of men. All he was going to be able to do here was get himself killed and watch everyone else die too. Yet what other option did he have? He couldn't just abandon his friends like that, no matter how futile a gesture allowing himself to be slaughtered along with them might be.


"Phish! Snap out of it y' fin-faced twerp!"


Philokrates blinked back to awareness as the tall human who had just spoken clouted him over the head with a grapnel. He had just opened his mouth to say something suitably fatalistic when his gaze caught on the hooked item that had just been used to snap him out of his reverie. ...Could he? ...It was a long shot, he considered with a frown at the encroaching third ship, but it might just work. A crazy plan was better than no plan and staying here to die, right?


"Rick, could I borrow that for a few minutes please?" the toned man asked as he bent hurriedly to unfasten and slip off his boots.


"What the- bah! Ged'out'v'it'y'bast'd!" The black-haired human put his blade through the gut of a navyman who had spotted the inactive pair and charged over. "-hell for?" he concluded, transferring his dark gaze for a moment to his shipmate as the bluecoat slumped.


The merman grinned sheepishly at his friend. "Not quite sure yet," he admitted as he took the length of rope with its grapnel end from the other pirate's unresisting hand. "Just try not to die whilst I'm away, humm?"


With these words, the aqua-eyed man charged across a clear potion of deck and dived into the welcoming embrace of the ocean. If his friend had cried out in protest, it had been lost to his ears amongst war cries, and the cries of dying men. Rick would be alright. He knew how to look after himself. ...Right?


Still, worries aside, if this idiotic idea that was still only half formed in his mind was to work, it would have to be put into action soon. This in mind, the sea creature looped the line and grapnel around his neck and struck out for the hull of the third ship which was just visible through the dark waters. He'd just have to trust his friend to keep himself alive without him there to watch his back; it was out of his hands now. Somehow that thought wasn't as comforting as he'd hoped it would be.


As he came level with his target, the lean man allowed himself to the pulled back in its slipstream, kicking off the pitch coated wood each time it drew too close for comfort. As the stern drew near, the greenish-skinned man surfaced and, closing his gills, took the line from about his neck and began to swing it. It was quite an awkward thing to do whilst treading water in a somewhat choppy sea, but either he was more skilled at such things than he had hitherto realized or the lady of the four-leaved clover was with him that night. With one smooth throw, the grapnel sailed up and away and, as the ship surged onward, skittered backwards over the deck to catch into the sturdy rail.


As it tugged tight, Philokrates pulled himself hand over hand, kicking with his legs to speed his progress, until he had caught up with the ship. Placing his bare feet on the wood and taking his weight on his arms, the pirate began to climb. About half way up his footing slipped, and he spent a few uncomfortable moments dangling by his arms and swinging about in the chill air. A few adrenaline hastened heartbeats later, however, he was back on track, and before long he had grasped the rail in his hands and was hauling himself over it.


Fortunately for him, not only was it dark away from the lamps on the foredeck but the ship's crew were very much preoccupied with staring at the battle they were racing towards.


"Ha, look at them take down those black-hearted rogues."


The merman slunk on his belly towards a large hatch which looked like it probably led to the hold.


"Pah, they don't stand a chance."


He reached it and wiggled himself around so that he could get at one of the handles.


"I'm just sorry we'll miss most of the action."


He pulled upwards with painstaking slowness, praying to whichever Gods might be listening that the hinges wouldn't creak.


"Yea, I bet if we'd got in there first we could've been done by now, too."


He squirmed himself half into the crack he had opened.


"Yea, you got that right, we'd crush them like the bugs they are."


Philokrates gritted his teeth with the effort of not cussing them all out and slipped backwards into the darkness, finding the steps with his feet by sheer luck and sliding the hatch closed behind him. Though this move cut out the sounds of the posturing of the humans on deck, it also left him in pitch blackness.


Cursing softly under his breath, the merman fumbled his way to the floor and waved his arms about blindly. After a few moments, his left wrist caught something with a painful clunk. Grinning to himself and ignoring the minor ouch, the pirate fumbled in that area some more until he located the object and identified it as a lantern. A bit more fumbling even revealed a bunch of matches attached to the side with string. The blue-green haired man pulled one off the bundle and struck it on the wall beside him before setting it carefully to the wick of the lantern; things really were going his way tonight. A moment or two later, orange light revealed the basic shape of the area he was in and the details of the items closest to him.


Philokrates' grin widened.


Jackpot.


All about him were barrels and boxes of this and that, but it was not these things he was interested in. Holding the lantern up high, the young merman picked his way forwards, glancing left and right until his greenish eyes came to rest on what he was looking for. The pirate hurried over, his heart rate picking up as he laid hands on the bottles he had been scanning for. This was all going so well, almost too well; it was putting him a bit on edge. Shivering and setting the lantern down on a nearby crate, the finned creature picked up one of the bottles and uncorked it with trembling hands before proceeding to pour its contents on a nearby bundle of spare blankets. He just had to stay calm and work as quickly as he could and everything would be fine. Probably. Possibly. He hoped.


Pushing his fears aside, the pirate repeated this process with all but four of the bottles, spreading the soaked blankets about as he went. The last four bottles then had their corks removed and replaced with soaked cloth bungs before being placed in a sack and slung over the pirate's shoulder.


Shaking harder than ever, the muscled man retrieved the lantern and hurried across the now somewhat slick floor to the ladder. Here he paused for a moment, forcing calm on himself. This next bit was going to be the worst so far but he could hardly chicken out of it; even if he did he'd be discovered and killed in the end anyway. Now or never, right? Do or die. Possibly do and die, actually, but he was trying not to think too hard about that possibility. Blowing out a long breath, Philokrates flipped open the glass door of the lantern and, after a brief struggle, pulled it off its hinges and cast it to the ground where it shattered with a soft tinkle; it would only get in his way in this next phase of the plan.


This was it then.


Biting down on his lip, the merman drew another soaked strip of cloth out of his pocket and set it to the lantern's flame. As the hot orange tongues wrapped cheerfully about it, Philokrates dropped it down into the lantern oil soaked hold and shoved the hatch open.


A moment later he was on deck, and a large crowd of stunned humans in blue coats were staring at him in shock. Before any of them had time to react to the sudden presence of a fishman, the aqua creature had pulled one of the bottles out of his sack, set the soaked cloth bung to the flame and drawn back his arm. As a group of men quicker on the uptake than their fellows gave an indignant cry of 'pirate!' and charged at him, the merman hurled it towards them and lit the next. His first burning missile smashed on the deck among the charging men. Fire caught at their clothes and the planks under their feet. Grinning wildly, the lean man tossed the next bottle of lamp oil towards the wheel - it shattered at the feet of the helmsman, causing him to shriek in terror and leap away from the greedy flames.


This, the merman decided as he lit his last two bungs and made a mad dash for the rigging, was more fun than it had any right to be.


He was still probably going to die, he considered as he reached his goal a hair's breadth ahead of the navy men now intent on having his guts for varying fashion accessories, but at least he wouldn't die pointlessly as he would have done back on his own ship. Though he hadn't the time to glance over his shoulder, he could see the orange glow that must be the open hatch to the hold out of the corner of one eye. Whether he made it or not, he had done his best to see his friends safe. Smashing the penultimate bottle at his feet, the merman began to scurrying up the rigging as fast as he could with one hand occupied with a bottle with a burning piece of cloth shoved into it.


There were people coming down towards him now, and by the sound of it a few were braving the flames he had started at the base of the mast to give chase. Still, he had a last bottle to throw and he just knew that Rick would laugh at him if he died before he managed that. Giggling somewhat hysterically, the merman shoved the cloth all the way into the bottle, ignoring how this move burned his fingers, and hurled it with all his strength at the main boom. It shattered there, splattering the mainsail and deck below with burning oil and Philokrates flung himself from the rigging to avoid the sweeping blade of an enterprising lookout.


The deck came up to meet him with surprising speed and the merman landed badly. Hissing at the pain in his ankle, he forced himself to stagger upright and make a break for the rail before the yelling charging men not occupied with the rapidly spreading flames reached him.


He almost made it.


Almost.


Less than a couple of yards from safety, the blue-skinned man found his progress blocked by a man of average height but more than average build. The man wore the markings of a captain, a grim expression and held a sword in one hand.


The aqua-haired man's brain froze. A seasoned warrior before him, and the crew rapidly closing in behind him. It was death either way. He had been doing so well, too.


Fortunately, his body was not quite as fatalistic as his brain and it chose that moment to take over from the lump of useless grey matter.


Philokrates snarled viciously and, lowering his head, he raced onward. He thought he saw a faintly perplexed look on the navy captain's face as he charged, but a moment later his shoulder had slammed into the man's chest and pitched the pair of them into the sea. As they hit the icy water, the captain lost his grip on his sword and the pirate grasped his adversary about the waist, struggling to keep the strong man under the surface. The human, it seemed, was not keen on the idea of being drowned and fought back like a mad thing. The merman gritted his teeth and redoubled his efforts; it was just a matter of time before-


-The pirate gave a gurgle which would have been a scream on land as a line of fiery pain opened across his left eye. The captain might have lost his sword, but it seemed he still had a dagger in reserve.


Philokrates released his grip on the man's middle as hurriedly as one might drop a hot pan and transferred his grip to the man's arm. Not having a better plan, the merman bit the hand which held the knife sharply before driving his forehead into the navy officer's nose. Bubbles escaped the human's mouth and a crack informed the pirate that he had succeeded in breaking said nose. The sea creature smiled the same grim smile of triumph that the captain had a moment ago and, wresting the dagger from his grasp, drew it across the human's throat.


As he let the body sink to its watery grave, the merman remembered to breath again and hurriedly fanned salty water through his gills. That had been too close, far too close and he was bleeding, which was never a good thing in waters known to contain sharks. This in mind, he struck out for the surface to get his bearings and to ascertain how well his hare-brained scheme had worked.


As his head broke free of the water, the first thing that caught the pirate's attention was the light. Fire. He grinned and whooped at the sight; the third ship was lit up like a festival bonfire and still drifting towards its fellows. Though the wind was relatively light it had still managed to carry sparks to one of the other navy ships' sails where they were catching merrily and settling into consuming the cloth.


From where he was it was impossible to make out friend from foe on the deck of his own ship, and the glaring brightness of the burning ship before it did nothing to help. His stomach abruptly clenching with worry for his shipmates, especially a certain shipmate, the merman sank below the surface once more and propelled himself towards his floating home with as much haste as his wearied body would allow. He had been so busy worrying about himself since he'd clambered onto the enemy ship that he'd all but forgotten the plight of his friends.


Once by the ship's side, he surfaced again and the sounds of battle slammed into his ears. In a way, he considered as he splashed over to a fortuitously dangling grappling line, they were a comfort. They meant that at least some of his shipmates were still alive to make them. Stoically ignoring the throbbing pain from his ankle and the burning of his face, the merman grabbed onto the line and began to haul himself up the side of the ship.


He scrabbled awkwardly over the rail a few moments later and landed with a wet splat on the deck, heart pounding and muscles screaming their exhaustion at him. Taking only the barest moment to catch his breath, the finned pirate forced himself to his feet and drew his sword, green-blue eyes flicking about to decide where he would be of most use. In the next breath his gaze settled on Rick.


The tall man was holding his own against two bluecoats, but a third was coming up from behind him.


Giving an ululating cry, the merman rushed towards them, all his pains and weariness forgotten as he sought to close the gap between himself and the third man before it was too late. He was damned if any navy lackey was going to stab his friend in the back whilst he was aboard. Still, determination on no, he probably wouldn't have made it had his call not distracted the humans gathered about his friend. Philokrates grinned at this and joined his comrade in making the most of their distraction; it was good to be a merman at times like these.


In a satisfyingly short amount of time, the three navymen were dead and Rick was turning to him with his customary lopsided grin.


"Phish," the human chuckled as he wiped sweat from his brow, "good t' see y', y' son of a trout. Y'alright?"


The merman grinned back, wincing at the pain this brought to his face. "Oh I'm wonderful," he replied. "Can't see out of my left eye, but wonderful." He was alive, Rick was alive and his idiotic scheme had worked. Who'd've thought it?


The dark-eyed man raised an eyebrow and lent forward, studying his crewmate's face carefully. "Eh, it's still there," he snorted, "you'll probably have a cool scar over it and all, now come kill some bluecoats and quit your whinin' y' great haddock."


Philokrates/Phish gave his bloodied sword a twirl and smiled with the side of his face which didn't hurt like the blazes. "Ready when you are, my dear bald monkey." Exchanging another grin with his friend, Phish charged across the at the nearest knot of fighting to assist his shipmates. Rick was by his side all the way.


There weren't, the merman noticed as he swung his blade, all that many bluecoats left. A quick glance about revealed why this was; two out of three ships were burning badly now and most of the navymen were racing towards the last as it began to pull away. As terrified youth dashed towards him, gaze fixed on the rail, the greenish pirate stepped aside to let him pass. He was just a kid, after all. When the lad was half way to safety however, another pirate stepped forward and brought him down. The merman sighed faintly to himself and shook his head. Well he'd tried, the poor boy had probably only joined up with the navy to please his family or something. Oh well, what was done was done; perhaps the now slumped youth would get a nice afterlife or something.


In the time he had been distracted with the navy boy, Phish realized as he looked about again, the remaining fighters had either been taken down or had made a leap for their vessel. Not all of them made it, and those who hadn't splashed frantically after the ship, catching lines thrown by their friends and hauling themselves aboard gratefully.


Philokrates gave a sigh of relief and bent to wipe his blade clean on a dead officer's blue coat. "Well," he muttered a he straightened and brought a hand up to his face, "that was special." He couldn't see how bad the cut was, but from the blood on his hand when he brought it away it was pretty bad. Feeling vaguely faint, the finned man dropped down to a seat on the body he had just used to clean his sword. It expelled breath in protest at the treatment, but he ignored it and stretched out his sore leg before glancing about to see who they'd lost. Quite a few by the looks of it, some of the dead faces had even been good friends. The merman gave another sigh and reached up to touch his face again.


"Well, what are you lot lollin' about for?" the captain's voice demanded into the post battle hush. "Somebody get us out of 'ere before we catch light too - and then, after 'em! We got 'em on the run, boys! We'll show those blue-coated pansies a few things when we catch up with them, by Gods - we'll teach them how to die! Didn't y' see how the Gods smiled on us, setting flame to their ships, eh? We'll be the victors for sure!"


The merman groaned and raised his head to regard his captain. The man was enthusiastic and generally a good leader, he'd give him that credit, he just had a bit of a blind spot when it came to the navy was all.


"Here we go again," commented Rick's voice as the man came up beside him, catching the merman under the arm to help him to his feet.


Philokrates gave the human one of his own lopsided smiles and lent on his sword for support as he watched the shadowy shape of the navy ship skip away ahead of them. "Tally ho." He hoped that it was faster than they; he'd had quite enough of death-defying madcap schemes to last him a year let alone one night.


Some days it was very tempting just to leap into the sea and never return when things like this happened. That, however, would be the coward's way out, and Rick would never let him live it down. The finned man glanced up at his tall friend for a moment before transferring his gaze back to the target ahead. As the human's grip on his elbow tightened briefly in an affectionate squeeze, Phish smiled softly to himself. Whether they caught that ship or not, at least he wouldn't be facing almost certain death alone.

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