Lia Danuu O'Bran answers the 20 questions
My name is Lia Danuu O'Bran. I am Inish, having been born on the emerald isle of Inismore some twenty-five summers ago in a small fishing community. I stand exactly five feet tall. Though that means my reach is considerably short, it does allow me to move about unseen more oft than not. The small are overlooked and sometimes (to our advantage) underestimated as well. Reddish brown hair falls down to my shoulders. I usually braid the sides and tie them back, sort of a natural headband. The rest falls free. My eyes are a green-gold hazel color. The intensity of color changes (or so I am told) based on my emotions. Fair skin, liberally sprinkled with freckles, tans only very lightly, despite the amount of time I spend out of doors. My feet are thickly callused after years of going barefoot. My large toes are set slightly apart from the rest of my toes, which makes it easier to grasp hold of the rig lines when climbing. I have a slender and wiry build, handy when climbing the rigging on a ship, or the outsides of buildings, also when I am trying to conceal my sex. The smaller build makes it easier to portray being a boy when necessary. I have a scar on my upper left arm from a lucky knife strike during a bar brawl. Another one crosses my upper back, just under the shoulder blades. I got that during a boarding party. I have a shark bite on my right hip. It didn't get a very good grip on me before a crewmate manage to chase it off briefly with a lucky slash to the eyes. He pulled me back to the ship before the shark could get another bead on us. I've been lucky enough not to collect any more than that, but I don't doubt that I will probably get more in the future. On my right ankle I have a knotwork bracelet tattoo shaded in blues and greens. Inside the center circle that rests on the outside of my ankle are the names Shawn and Lia. I speak with an Inish accent most of the time (which makes sense as that is where I have spent most of my life), but I'm able to tone it down when speaking other languages. I know I have a tendency to hum or whistle to myself. Shawn told me that my constant humming was going to drive him crazy one day, and he once threatened to have my mouth sewed shut, though he smiled when he said it. I also chew on my bottom lip when I'm nervous or trying to make an important decision. Up until a few months ago, my main desire (I guess you'd call it my motivation in life) was to see as much of Thea as possible before I died. I still want to explore the world, but now I'm more concerned about locating my seven year old niece. She disappeared during a fishing trip. No one's seen or heard from her, but I just know that she's still alive. I just have to find her. I'd say one of the things I have going for me is my communication skills. I speak six languages, more or less fluently, and am able to read and write three of those. Those that I can read and speak are Cymru (obviously), Eisen, and Vendel/Vestenmannavnjar. The others are Castillo, Ussuran, Vodacce and Montaigne. I am also, when necessary, able to speak and listen to the typical Pirate accent, or Pirate Voice, with varying degrees of capability, depending on who's doing the speaking. On the other hand, I've been called rash and impetuous by many of my teachers and fellow crewmates. I can't seem to keep my nose out of potentially dangerous situations. I know they're dangerous, and that I would be better off, or at least safer, if I stayed out of or away from them, but I just can't seem to help myself. I'm strong willed, I don't give up easily, so that can go either way. It's helpful when I'm trying to learn a new language, or follow faint clues concerning my niece. It's not quite so helpful when faced with a problematic situation that would require me to not interfere. I end up doing so anyway, sometimes to my chagrin. I love the open sea. Sailing is the most glorious thing. Exploration is all well and good, but it's a hundred times better if it's being done by ship. The salt spray, the rocking of the waves, the glitter of stars at night and even the excitement of a brewing storm are all things I look forward to and treasure. I have a healthy respect for Mother Ocean and her children, especially sharks. I'll never be able to see a dorsal fin without a shiver of fear, and I am aware of how woefully inadequate my swimming skills are. I don't enjoy being underground. I prefer the open air. I suspect I've got a mild form of claustrophobia. I'm hoping that I can overcome it if I ever get the chance to explore the Eisen Caverns or the Vodacce Catacombs. I can't stand pompousness. Or being talked down to. Being so small, people have a tendency to speak to me as if I am a child, or a half-wit. Drives me uggy. Usually, I have to swallow my pride and take it, I'm not the world's best fighter. But sometimes I just want to ... Speaking of things I don't particularly care for: Cities make me slightly nervous. All that noise and bustle - that doesn't bother me too much. It's the smell. I've yet to find a city that has discovered an adequate means of keeping their streets (, homes, business areas, and docks) clean. On a ship, you have to keep everything clean or everyone will get sick in short order. But there are so many people in a city, that it's difficult to do the same. I also cannot abide seeing a child hurt. Children are precious and should always be treated as such. Sorcery is an iffy subject. It doesn't bother me, it has its uses. A few which I've seen employed for my or my crew's benefit. But I'm leery when it's used by overambitious sorcerers, and when it's being used against me, I really could do without it. Still, if it were necessary (and possible), I would not have too many reservations about employing it myself. I've got what my mom calls "a large bump of curiosity." It's one of the reasons I chose to be a sailor. I can explore new places easier than if I was stuck at home. I consider myself generally to be a laid back kind of person. I find most of what goes on in life to be amusing. The way people act towards others and about situations is fascinating. Oh, but get me mad and you'll learn why they coined the phrase "getting his Inish up". Although I hum and whistle, I don't have much of an ear for music. But a spectacular sunset always stirs my soul. Sailing over the waters, watching a thunderstorm off in the distance, the lightning creating dazzling designs in the clouds always make me catch my breath. Although I hate admitting that I have a fear, (after all, a female who shows fear isn't tolerated on a ship for long, it's considered bad luck) being buried alive is right up there along with drowning. My greatest love is seeing and doing new things. When I die, I want to be remembered as the most widely traveled sailor in history. I want to visit every country in the known world, learn their languages and customs. Then I want to go where no one else has ever even dreamed of going, across the ocean, maybe even the Seventh Sea. I've heard so many stories from Captain Berek (he's so obsessed about finding it), that I would love to see it myself. Inismore isn't perfect, but it will always be home. I don't pretend that my home country doesn't have any flaws, but I'll be damned if I'm going to sit back at let other people badmouth Inismore, or Avalon. I don't think I have any undue prejudices. I mean, there aren't any one group of people that I instantly dislike on sight, except perhaps the Castille. And even then, I don't hate them with a passion, I am just careful with my dealings with them, a bit cold and distant. I've lost too many loved ones to them. Overbearing Church officials make me nauseous. Someone obviously sexist or someone being arrogant and rude when there's no reason to be, are also people I don't like. Anyone who would abuse a child is lower than scum. I don't consider myself to be particularly religious. I'm an infrequent church goer at best, I try to attend mass during the major holidays, but I'm not too upset if I miss one. As a sailor, I guess I worship Mother Ocean. She's the one constant, and you must never ever get on her bad side. I am also Inish. The Sidhe are a very real and powerful force in my and my family's life. I always keep a penny in my left shoe, you never know when it will come in handy to keep the Sidhe from paying attention to you. A four leaf clover that Shawn gave me during shore leave is still bound up tight in a gold locket I wear beneath my shirt. I was once asked, if I could choose the precise way, how would I want to die? I thought about it for a long while and finally came up with this. I would want to die of a great old age, surrounded by loved ones, after an idyllic day by the ocean, slipping into the other world during a nap. Seems like the way to go, gently and with love. My political loyalties lie first with King John O'Bannon, then with Queen Elaine. My family comes first and foremost. The crew of the Sea Shoal, one of the ships of the Sea Dogs, is next in my loyalties as they are practically a second family to me. Even though I don't sail with them currently, we still communicate, and we've pledged to help one another if we're in the area. At one point in time, I thought I was going to settle down and get married. Shawn O'Tannen. Ah, what I wouldn't have done for that lad. We were both eighteen at the time, serving on the Sea Shoal together. I was drawn to his open spirit, the way he looked at everything as if it was brand new. He had a way with words that could have rivaled any poet that resided in Montaigne. He said that he was captured by my zest for life, for my own way of looking for new things. He was from Avalon, and had gone through the Swordsman School Roger, graduating a year before I did. After three years sailing together, he proposed. I surprised myself by acceptingimmediately. As we were unable to get to shore to be married by a priest, we asked the captain if he would do the honors. He agreed. Although I had wanted to get married in the presence of my family, I wasn't unduly upset, for the crew of the Sea Shoal had become a second family to me. We were happy. Shawn died two years later. We had approached a ship flying Castillo colors. Shawn and I were part of the boarding party. The fighting was thick and furious. At one point, a Castillian got a lucky blow, he had tried slashing at me, and would have missed had he not slipped. I had caught up his sword blade (surprisingly) and was turned and off-balance myself. I never saw the knife he had drawn, only felt it bite deeply into my back. I jerked, and the blade slid across my skin before the Castillian finished falling to the deck. Enraged, I slashed his throat and left him to bleed to death. (I may be a gentlewoman, one who will keep her word and will treat others with respect, but due to my small stature, I will do what I can to bring a much larger opponent down while they are otherwise engaged. I'm not stupid.)Shawn had seen and was making his way to where I swayed dizzily. Neither of us noticed the Porte Sorcerer who instantly transported himself from the bow of the ship directly behind Shawn. Before I could cry a warning, the Mage had driven his sword through my husband's back, felling him. I would have liked to have revenged my husband on this Mage, however, someone did it for me. As the mage approached me to take me down (and believe me, at that moment, not only was I not physically capable of stopping him, I was so stunned and grief-stricken, I would have welcomed the blow) his throat suddenly sprouted an arrow. He collapsed with a gurgle, blood gushing out his mouth. Ignoring the mage's body, I rushed to Shawn's side, praying to Theus and Mother Ocean that somehow he would be spared. Shawn was just barely hanging on to life. I held him in my arms, oblivious to the fighting that still ranged around us. He looked up at me, his brilliant sapphire eyes dulled with pain. He gave a waning smile and reached a hand up to cup my face. I couldn't help it, I cried. He brushed a tear from my cheek. "Remember, I'll always love ..." his voice faded. I strained to hear and the "... you," escaped his lips like the sigh of a dove. And then he was gone. Somehow, I made it through the next year of travels before we set anchor on Inish shore again. I decided, and my captain agreed, that I would spend some time with my birth family. Just enough to get my head back together. I made arrangements to meet up with the Sea Shoal in two months' time. My family lives on a small farm just in sight of the ocean. My da, Alan O'Bran, is a fisherman. Most of the menfolk in Inismore are. He takes his boat out onto the sea, always returning with a decent sized catch. Never too little, and never so much that the excess would spoil. Da claims it's because he pays his proper respects to Mother Ocean, as well as to the Sidhe of the seelie court. I'm inclined to agree with him, but I also know that he is a shrewd fisherman, able to read the moods of the fish in order to pick the right spot that they'll be feeding in. My mom, Denise O'Bran, keeps the farm running with a humorous but firm hand. She is also a celebrated weaver in our province. Her cloth is in much demand and her tapestries always fetch a good price during the Market Fair. Grace, younger than I by a year, married Jerome Olask when she was sixteen and the two had a daughter, Bridgit. Olask is a wealthy family, but it's new money, which is why no one made too much of a fuss when Jerome asked Grace to be his wife. We O'Brans, though a hardy folk, aren't exactly known for our riches. Jerome owns a cargo ship that he uses to import some of the fish his crew catches to sell to ports in Montaigne and Eisen. Keith, older than I by five years, had joined the Avalon naval fleet. He died six years earlier when his vessel was sunk by a Castillo war ship. I don't know why, but I never told them that I had been married. It wasn't that they would not have approved, far from that. Whenever I came home, Mom always started in on me. Hinting that I should meet so-and-so or go to town because "there's a dance and maybe you'll meet a nice boy there". Even Da made a couple of comments on how he wasn't getting any younger and how he would rest easier knowing that I had someone who would love and look after me. They're both proud of my independence, worried over my rash behavior, but just want to know that I'll have a secure future. The future is never secure. I guess I didn't tell them about Shawn because the memories were still too painful. I kept catching myself turning to ask him his opinion on something, or to point out some new wonder I had seen. I kept expecting him to wrap his arms around me from behind and rest his chin on my shoulder, gently teasing me about my height without ever saying a word. Talking about him, especially his death, was too much for me. And then a month later, we were all too busy with another sort of family emergency for me to even contemplate burdening them with my own woes. Bridgit had turned seven while I had been home, and a more beautiful and inquisitive child I had never seen. I can close my eyes and see her so clearly in my memory. Hair the color of newly beaten copper. Eyes like the sea after a storm, full of intelligence and good humor. Pale skin that would frequently burn, giving her a peppering of freckles across her nose. She was always asking questions, begging me for stories about the places I'd seen and the people I'd met. Quick of finger, sure of foot, and nimble of mind made me think that she'd make an excellent sailor. Or explorer. Or scholar. In truth, I think she could have done anything she wanted to when she grew up. Bridgit and her friend had gone fishing in the shallows. Grace and Jerome let her because the shallows are within easy reach of shore and few, if any, sea creatures venture there, so there's no danger of capsizing. The two girls were gone all morning, and when they didn't come in for lunch, Grace had gone looking for them. Their boat was discovered drifting at the edge of the shallows, but both girls were no where to be found. Searches found nothing. After a month, authorities, who had more urgent matters to attend to, reluctantly informed both families that there was nothing else they could do. They stopped the search and placed both girls' names on the list of people missing, possibly dead. I don't think she's dead. I can't explain it, but I know it to be true. I've spoke to Grace and Jerome about the possibility that Bridgit was taken by enemies of the family Olask. I don't think this could have been done as a retribution to Grace, the O'Brans have no enemies as far as I know, though I won't rule out that possibility as well - Keith could have accumulated some during his time in the military or I could have during my stint as a privateer. But my money's on the Olask angle. Jerome doesn't agree, because otherwise there would have been a ransom demand. He's convinced that Bridgit and her friend must have gone swimming, gotten pulled under by the current, and dragged out to sea. Grace, on the other hand, has grasped hold of my theory with both hands and doesn't look like she's going to let go anytime soon. The two are at odds, and Jerome blames me. I don't care. I know that girl is alive, somewhere, and I plan on finding her. I contacted the Sea Shoal but discovered that they have a charter for Vendel. That's not where I need to go. Although I still have another four more years of service, the captain has freed me from my contract so I can pursue my investigation. Like I said, we're family, and families look after their own. I've found another ship. The Swaying Bough is headed for Manche in a fortnight, long enough for it to resupply. I've signed on temporarily and will see where the seas take me.Return to Uncommon Valor