NAME: Kusari Mitsukai
ALIAS: Thrasher
GENDER: Male
AGE: 21
RACE: Hume, turned berserker, with distant water elf blood.
PLACE OF BIRTH: Eastern Coast of Eramor
ALLEGIANCE Himself first, though sometimes that self-loyalty requires him to serve the highest bidder.
ALIGNMENT: Neutral Chaotic
CLASS: Berserker (Rager Varriant)/ Man Of The Sea
EQUIPMENT/WEAPONS:
“The Sea Cleaver”- The sword of this father and his fathers father, to be passed down one day if he has a child. This sword was long ago ready for a life on and in the sea. The silver edged, steel blade was crafted with the perfect balance. It is 6 feet long in the blade with two feet of handle. The sword is balded on each side and the pommel bears a ring shape large enough for the wielders hand to fit in. It’s flat measures 1 foot across, and the entire sword is balanced perfectly. The blade is enchanted to never rust, or corrode so it may hold up to a life at sea. The blade is so heavy, Kusari has left it standing outside of towns confident that he is the only one who will be able to move it, only to be proven right when he returns later. As with his chain, when he wields this weapon, one watching would almost swear he was born with it in his hands for it seems so natural as he fights with it.
The Chain – This chain has been the only constant in his life. Kusari has carried it with him through much, so much in fact that he had a fragment of his own soul bonded to the weapon. This allows him to wield the chain as if it were an extension of has body, able to make it “grow” to thrice it’s length, and perform feats that one would be certain some level of telekinesis would be required to have guided the weapon in such a way. The chain has become unbreakable thanks to the majick within it. It will also never rust or corrode.
Chain Headers-
Kusari keeps several different steel and iron heads for the chain, a few hooks, anchor shapes, and a pair of spiked bludgeoning ends. The headers are not imbued with any power and are easily replacd should he misplace one or have it destroyed. The headers make the chains uses increase significantly.
((Gorbun-
Not so much equipment as it is an associate, Gorbun is the 5 ½ foot high 10foot long Common breed Goribore (landshark) that travels with him almost wherever he goes, though often times at a distance, Gorbun has dark gray plates, and blue-green scales, and red eyes that glow like smoldering coals. There are a few distinguishing scars on his plates that make him recognizeable, particularly one on his head from when he collided with the buried blade of Kusari’s sword during their fight in the coastal town.))
POWERS & ABILITIES:
Berserk
Simple enough to understand, the result of a curse that befell him when he was hardly more than an infant, though would not really have taken hold had he not already had the potential for great anger deep within him. The curse merely magnified and added to what was already there. If Kusari loses control of his wild temper, he will quickly slip into a blind fury, during this rage his muscles swell slightly, his body temperature raises, his speed increases though mostly because his strength literally doubles, he becomes so enraged he is practically numb to pain and cares only to destroy whatever he can. It is the power of this rage that makes him so sought after as a mercenary. But it is his other abilities that truly set him apart.
Knack With Monsters
Not a supernatural talent by any means, it seems Kusari has a knack with trying to reason with semi-intelligent beasts and “monsters”, particularly those associated with water. He knows his way around a shark, and how best to not get eaten. This is more a skill than a power.
APPEARANCE:
Height – 6’8”
Build – Sculpted Body of a Warrior
Eye colour – Ice blue
Hair colour – Dark brown
General Appearance:
Kusari towers above his fellow man. His broad shoulders and incredible height make him a target on the battlefield, and a thing to avoid when not. He has always been taller and more muscular than those his age, this was further truthful during his time as a slave used to fight for the amusement of others. Kusari bears several scars on his body from his long life in battle and on the seas. His masculine face despite it’s sternness and strength seems to show a softness as well. His brown hair is shoulder length and feathered in back, wild from lack of attention, and only being cut by hand with knives whenever it is cut. His hands are large, even for his size, and rough and calloused from use both at the blade and at work. His face is usually smooth shaved by a well sharpened razorblade though sometimes it strikes his fancy to let some form of a small beard grow in before he shaves it off due to the itchy inconvenience. His chest and back are smooth and hairless, when seen without a shirt.
His ice blue eyes are a contrast to his skin that is tanned from his life oft spent outdoors. No one knows what the reason is for the apparent lack of pupils but somehow he sees fine with them both above and below water. Those eyes are both capable of expressing the sincerity behind his word and the strength of his spirit, or the unfathomable rage that explodes within him.
Kusari is built for power and it shows quite obviously. However he is no vicious heartless barbarian, his body language is that of a practiced and calculating fighter which sets him apart from others on the field of battle. The only time he stands out more is when he sinks into his legendary rage, in such instances he seems more beast than man. His body seems to be even more muscular in this state.
Kusari tends to wear black sleeveless shirts if any shirt at all, and pants of a similar color fastened tight at the waist and loose at the legs, though tucked inside boots that come halfway to his knees. He is NEVER separate from the chain that has been with him for most of his life, and his sword is not usually very far away. Kusari sometimes wears a scarf about his neck to conceal the gills that have been there for many long years to which he owes his life. He is not ashamed of them but does know that they can disturb others and so keeps them hidden from time to time when he tries to make as little a scene as possible. (Not at all an easy feat for a man of his size and structure.)
PERSONALITY:
Kusari Mitsukai is a strong individual. Stress on both strong and individual. He has not been one to easily trust or do well in large groups as he harbors a perpetual mistrust towards most all other sentient life forms, though it is not as prevalent as it was in his youth. He still prefers to do anything he can on his own rather than be helped, though not to a foolishly prideful extent. Kusari knows the importance of trying to keep a clear head on his shoulders, though theory and practice are sometimes very different things. He has had to teach himself much of what he knows on his own or by learning from experience.
He holds little weight in “good” and “evil” for he has seen “evil” people do great things and “good” people have stabbed him in the back. Kusari believes peoples true selves emerge in combat and when faced with their own demise. He tries to hold himself to a better standard than the criminals he has hated but seems to have fallen into hypocracy for the sake of his own survival. Needing to eat to live means sometimes having to serve as a sellsword to those he would rather fight against than for. However he never serves anyone in anything he blatantly opposes in all things; but will do things that are considered less than honorable when his options are limited.
Kusari has a temper that he does his best to keep a hold over but it has been a lifelong battle that has made only slight significant progress. When his temper gets the best of him, it is readily apparent to all around for the anger of a berserker is not easily missed.
One of the most important facets of his persona is thus, Kusari hates to be bound. Though literally being bound will set him off much faster than figureatively, both can set him quickly into the deepest stages of his blind rage until he believes he is free. Stemming from fear and a traumatic event as a younger boy, it has been with him all his life till it has evolved into something of a quick trigger to set him into his wild consuming fury.
Kusari’s wages a war within himself betwixt himself and his own inner demons, demons that are fueled by his berserker curse, by the lust for blood power respect and vengeance. What was once created as a tough side to help one be safe from the harsh world, has risen to be just another beast within it, a formidable one that can’t always be repressed or defeated.
BACKSTORY:
It is amazing what man can forget over the small span of sixty years. Supposedly that is why we keep so many books and records of our own endeavors, so we do not forget. However, things still slip through the cracks. For instance, the Mitsukai family name and it’s significance to a village on the eastern coast of Eramor can now only be found in two or three records which are long forgotten in old libraries and will probably one day be lost forever. There was a time when the last name Mitsukai held great respect within that village and had notoriety to many along that coast.
Buza Mitsukai was a hero in his day, known for saving his village, from the hands of Obsidian elf slavers. Buza had been a mercenary that had come to the town a few days before it’s peril. He had intended to simply pass through but when the slavers came he could not stand by while the good people were taken away. That night he snuck on to the slavers ship and stealthily killed all those on guard duty before allowing those men he had helped escape during the day, to come onboard and attack. Together they fought back the Obsidian elves freeing those that had been captured so far. The men insisted that they bring down the remaining elves killing them to the last but Buza stopped this. He told them that would make them no better than the slavers, and instead warned the elves that if they returned he would not stop the people from following through with their threats. The Obsidian elf ship sailed away and the people rejoiced along with the newly free captives. Some of the captives banded together to travel to Port Town and from their try to get to their homes, while others decided it would be best for them to just remain in the village and start their new life their.
Over the course of the next ten years, Buza married a woman who was one of the captives he had saved. There were rough times that they had to overcome as the Obsidian elves tried to strike once more but again Buza drove them back, now he lived happily, though restless, and so focused his energy on his new son. He taught his son the ways of the warrior, despite the peaceful community. He taught him to be noble and honorable, and everything else, and one day, 20 years after he had arrived he left his ten year old son and wife behind.
Buza was never resented, in fact his wife almost seemed to expect it. He was a wanderer and an adventurer and had been in one place for far too long. He had a mysterious past and business that needed to be taken care of out in the world. His wife and his son did not ever go without, he left enough for them to get by with, his wife worked, and the village kept an eye on the family of their hero from long ago.
Rendan Mitsukai grew up to be a strong young man, he grew to be every bit the man the people expected the son of Buza Mitsukai to become. A leader among men, a brave and strong soul who would look out over others, Rendan reigned over a time of peace for quite a while. He helped the village fight against a terrible storm that struck at them, and extinguished a nest of swamp wyrms that had sprung up far to close to the little village. He tamed an Aughisky only to ride it to port town and back for medicine to stop a rising epidemic, and then let the beast go free back to the ocean, and when he was twenty five he married a woman from a warrior tribe within the forests. She came back to live in the village among them and was every bit as noble as her husband. Andra would give birth to their son in Renan’s thirtieth year of life. They named their son Kusari and planned to raise him to fill the shoes of his father and his father’s father. The name was chosen by Andra and was a name from her peoples folklore of a man who would wrestle with giants and demons, and emerge victorious…
Kusari was a child like any other save for the anomaly that was his eyes. It worried his mother at first but they had the baby examined by several healers who all concluded that the child could see perfectly fine. So the family continued on with their lives happy and unexpecting of the tragedies that were to come.
When the young boy was but four years old, strange lights, of red blue and violet, were seen on the horizon. Pixies had come to the village, a rare sight in deed for one town so close to the ocean. The people came to marvel at the strange creatures that they had heard so much about, and when they were all fully enamored by the tiny creatures, it was then that the danger struck. Small fires were started, many slipped and ingured themselves on large patches of frost. Tempers flared and grudges formed, the state of the village was rapidly declining. Once again the Mitsukai family came to the aid of these people as Andra had heard tale of pixies that were not what they seemed. She was able to help the village to be rid of the creatures before they decided to begin feeding on the village. However, one mischievous and stubborn Violet spyte did not leave without a parting gift. A crying baby seemed like the perfect way to leave and so little Kusari was bitten on the neck before Rendan smashed the creature so hard that the exaggerated tales say it’s body never hit the ground but instead warped straight into Oblivion .((If only that was where Spytes went when they “die”))
A gesture that seemed so simply cruel and mischevious actually would bring to light a burden on Kusari and his family for the rest of all their lives. It was the next day when the child would bump into a door on accident only to engauge in a “tantrum that left himself unconscious amidst three broken chairs a felled table and a splintered door. The reality of what had happened sunk in hard and fast but Rendan did not abandon his son. Kusari’s parent ssought to teach him to control his anger and to try to be the best man he could be despite the fury that dwelled so deep within him fighting to get out at the first opportunity. They were successful. Rendan would start teaching his son to fight at an early age, not to make him more ferocious; but to teach him focus and to give him something to let out his frustrations during. Kusari took to fighting like a true natural talent, just as his father and allegedly his grandfather had. It was in his blood after all, in more ways than one.
Humanity so easily forgets what the more long lived species do not. An example of this blatantly shows itself when Ksuari was but nine years old. The day that changed everything. They were a happy family, like any other, the berserker side of the child only rarely surfaced, in fact because of it there was less argument within the house as they went to more of an effort to communicate and deal with things that otherwise might build up beneath the surface. It was at the dinner table one ordinary night, when the house was disturbed by a pounding on the door. The next second the door was exploded off it’s hinges. Obsidian elf slavers had come to claim their revenge.
The surprise and their numbers was all the advantage they needed. Three men managed to chain the boy and his mother. Kusari was more frightened than angry as he watched his father fight to save them. However soon, Kusari’s father was subdued, hindered by the fact that his family was held hostage by his attackers. They were all dragged to the heart of the town where the people had been gathered as well. There, Kusari was forced to watch, in disbelief, as his father was beaten heartlessly by all the men around him. Kusari could not believe what he was seeing, terrified, some small part of him still believed that at any moment his father, his hero, would rise up and fight them all back keeping everyone safe like he always promised to.
That small piece of hope fell in tandem with the blade that severed his father’s head from his body. Kusari heard his mother wail in horror and grief at the sight, but the world was rapidly feeling more and more distant. When the Obsidian elf hoisted the head up over his head laughing along with his slaver companions, it was the last straw. Kusari felt like the blood in his body began to boil in that instant as the rage finally came. The nine-year-old boy let loose a roar that should only be made by men in their final battles. His muscles expanded and he lurched forwards in a blind fury. The chain that bound him did not prevent him from lowering his head and charging headlong at the nearest man. He paused only long enough to pivot on one leg putting all his momentum into a kick so hard the cracking of the elf’s sternum could be heard. However, that sound was much less noticed than the sound of the ring of breaking metal as one faulty link in the chain snapped and gave the boy not only the use of his arms, but a weapon.
What happened next has been lost to all. There was too much chaos too much confusion, those who can remember have either died or have yet to be asked, and any obsidian elf that witnessed this refuses to acknowledge that such an event even existed. Kusari remembers nothing beyond that moment save for the ring of a chain, screaming, shouting, the feel of cold steel in his hand, distant pain, the pound of his own pulse over everything and the all consuming wrath of his berserker side, and as it is all finally fading to darkness a soothing whisper of a familiar yet foreign voice with a tender touch on his face… ”Hush now baby, everything will be all right. I’ll watch over you, rest now baby.”
Kusari awoke with the blood marked chain still in his hand, it had been unable to be removed from his grip even in unconsciousness. He had been kept unconscious through majick so he would not destroy the ship from within as they carried him to their slaver fortress. However Kusari was not bound for a life of labour and toil.
Many years back, a practice among some groups of slavers had started with guards betting on a scrap between slaves over food. It had quickly evolved into something like dog fighting, and from there something gladiatorial, though without as large an audience. It seemed the slavers, particularly among obsidian elves, enjoyed watching the fight to the death between two “lesser beings”. Kusari was a perfect candidate as he had displayed both an exemplary fighting skill and power that would surely win a few well picked bets, as well as being a slave that would suit little other purpose other than to displease a customer if used in any other manner. Who would want a slave that will turn around and kill the first one to lash him and destroy anything else it can get its hands on until rendered unconscious?
They stared him in small betting circles, it wasn’t hard to provoke him to attack someone else in the early times as he was easily angered here in this new prison, taken from everything he knew. Kusari got stronger with every fight, but was still clearly too young to do battle in “serious competition”. Kusari hated them, he hated the world around him, he hated everything and inwardly a part of him wished he could bring the entire camp own upon himself if it meant taking his captors to oblivion with him.
Still, every time he slept, the few dreams he had would recall that last moment of the night his father died, the moment just before he had been fully submitted to unconsciousness. As months passed, he grew somewhat wiser, and calmer. He began to think before he fought, and try to call on what he had been taught by his father. His skills began to increase at that point, when he was not something that burst forth at full power but instead knew how to fight intelligently to begin with. As his first year passed he was also placed among the other slaves, being held before they were to be transported elsewhere. When he was twelve his own form and style had progressed enough that his “owners” were unable to get challengers who were not in “serious combat” so they looked for opponents that would not severely damage their investment. Kusari never disappointed, his skill with his body and with the chain he still kept with him at all times, was enough to make him the victor of many fights without needing to submit to his anger. This made his rage all the more the spectacle when he did need to call on it.
Kusari was not the victor of every fight but he always managed to put on good enough of a show that his “owners” would intervene to keep him alive. Whenever he was unconscious after a loosing or particularly grueling fight, he would hear those same comforting words in that same voice as if reliving the moment. He began to prove himself even more worth the time effort and money put into him as he began to grow from a boy to a man for Kusari’s father and grandfather had not been small men, and his mother was no frail woman either. He grew stronger and larger with every passing day, so much so that the elves became even more cautious around their prized fighter.
At the age of 16 he had grown from the 4 feet tall he had been when brought there, to a full 6feet tall. He had grown about three inches a year, and showed no signs of slowing or stopping. The handles enjoyed the profits of their investment; but knew when it was risk was coming too close to outweighing reward. They began to put their fighter in increasingly dangerous match after match. He was once taken all the way to the Isles de Mortis to participate in a match against a prized fighter owned by the Necra. Finally they would have no more of it. Back in his “home” prison camp, Kusari was pitted against in a match they were sure would be his last. The odds were high against him, his owners even expected him to die, and so bet accordingly. Kusari and his chain were pitted against an Obsidian elf in light armor and wielding a lance and shield, and should they fail, a saber. The elf was actually a student of a prized obsidian elf fighter. The two entered the ring in a battle that was as long as it was grueling.
At the end of the fight, the enraged Kusari crushed the skull of his opponent beneath the pummeling of his fists while his enemy struggled to breathe due to his armor having been bent inward to press against his chest. As the battered skull finally gave way to a blow from his fists, Kusari fell unconscious from the saber lodged partway in his back and the many slash wounds on his body. It had been the lodging of the saber in his opponent that had doomed the elf. Kusari was taken away and had cost his owners much, not only did they have to give out a tremendous amount of their stored wealth; but they were now personal enemies of the warrior whose student had been killed at the hands of the lowly slave, not for the death of the student but for the dishonor that someone the warrior taught would lose to a slave.
Kusari awoke two days later, unfed and hardly able to stand, bandaged crudely, he was forced out into a new ring. In the two days he had been unconscious a special ring had been crafted to contain his final enemy. No one seemed to notice or care how his chain had returned to him, having been separated in the aftermath of his previous battle. Kusari could see the cresting fin of the Landshark as he stood at the edge of the sunken, stone arena. In the next moment he was on the ground within in a fight surely no one in his condition would survive. The Landshark would charge and Kusari hardly managed to avoid it every time it breeched the surface and had no means of countering a beast so armored when he had only a steel chain to fight with. One thing Kusari did notice of his foe was that the creature passed by several chances it may have been able to best him by, and he soon realized the reason was that to do so would be to put it in a more vulnerable position. Kusari began to work on a wild guess. Perhaps the creature was as cornered as he was, wounded and exhausted as well and seeking freedom more than it was something to munch. Kusari also noticed that where the beast missed him and sometimes collided with the wall, cracks had begun to form. Rapidly a wild and reckless plan developed, it was incomplete; but the only chance he had. Repeatedly Kusari would let the Landshark chase him to the same point on the wall and move at just the last second causing it to collide with the structure. The obsidian elves were too enthralled in his struggle to nitice the weakening of the very ground beneath their feet. It looked like he was about to make it, one more blow would atleast free him from the ring, should it collapse properly; but the Landshakr was not aware of the physics of what it had been doing. It HAD realized the pattern and this time it also balked just before the wall avoiding another painful blow to the head. For an instant Kusari felt the hopelessness of his situation finally weighing on him as he fought hard to resist his anger and keep a focused mind. The next instant from out of nowhere, there was a tremendous blast of water from above, confused shouts rang out just before it collided with the point where Kusari had been working towards freedom, unnoticed. The stone gave way and obsidian elves screamed as they fell into the pit amidst a shower of stones and earth. Chaos erupted all around and the Landshark burst from the earth as if about to consume Kusari, however Kusari stood firm showing no fear for a second, before he moved aside allowing the landshark to lumber up the collapsed stone side and onto the ground above. More surprise strikes of water distracted the people further and Kusari charged forth behind the beast, they were still the center of most attention had the mysterious water bursts not managed to protect them so far.
Some of the twisted elves took this opportunity to strike at long time rivals and superiors caught off guard and completely untraceable in the chaos, and so all Oblivion broke loose. Kusari had no idea where to run but soon, from nowhere a hooded figure, he presumed to be obsidian elf, grabbed his wrist. They did not strike him; but instead began to lead him by the arm. Kusari was bewildered but the strange action was enough to keep him from lashing out and followed, the Landshark not far behind.
The reached the deep waters of the gated harbor within the compound and Kusari felt he had been cornered as the sounds of pursuit grew louder. The landshark simply roared and leaped into the water, and soon Kusari was tugged by the hand to do likewise as they leaped and crashed beneath the water just in time to dodge tongues of fire and arrows. Kusari sunk towards the deep rapidly, he knew not where to go; but the other figure was finally revealed to him as their dark cloak fell away to reveal she was a creature from the stories of his child hood. The water elf woman stopped and spun around within the water raising her arms above her head there was nothing for a moment and then Kusari felt Current trying to push them upwards. He fought it as best he could while his lungs began to scream for air; finally he lashed his chian about a large stone and held tight with his legs fighting to stay conscious and beneath the water as above a massive wave rose up and struck down upon those assembled on the edge of the enclosed harbor.
Just when he was certain he would die in this strange grasp for freedom, he felt familiar tender hands on his face and turned to see the water elf brong her face close to his… he blacked out for only a second but soon was roused by searing pain in his neck and a strange sensation washing over him. The pain was intense as he felt like knives were being dragged across his throat many times over and his lungs burned for oxygen, and then suddenly the pain stopped and faded. His need for air dissipated and he looked bewildered at the tired looking water elf. She beckoned and he unlashed the chain from the stone and began to follow. Behind them, the shadowy form of the landshark was noticeable as she lead them to an underwater cave which they entered.
It took hours of exhausting simming through darkness before the cave network opened up and faint light overhead beckoned to Kusari he swam for the surface instinctively and when he breeched it he suddenly felt the sensation of drowning once more. He opened his mouth but could not breathe. His head started to spin dizzily and but he felt the arms of the water elf suddenly wrap around his chest and grip tight and jolting as if the frail creature was trying to crush him. It became immediately apparent what she had been trying to do when Involuntarily Kusari coughed and exhaled a tremendous gasp before the instinct to inhale took over and he was breathing again. After that, the taste of freedom was sweet, and he took an oath right there to never again be bound against his will.
The water elf lead him to shore and he passed out as he dragged himself onto the wet sand of the beach. When Kusari awoke, he was beneath the water once more, he was shocked; but confused as he seemed to be fine though again not breathing. The tide had pulled him away; but he could see the beach and so swam up it. On land it was a struggle to remember how to breathe once more but he managed on his own. Kusari saw no sign of the water elf or the landshark so he lay on the sand for a moment trying to take it all in. He felt his neck and it was then that he could feel the result of what she had done to him.
“Yes precious baby, I gave you gills.” her voice came from the direction of the water but Kusari recognized it from his dreams and memories. Soon He would learn that he had not been alone at all for these many years. This was Azoria, the REAL wife of his grandfather Buza, and thus his grandmother. She had been watching over her family from the ocean their whole lives, Redan had known he was half water elf but had been waiting to tell his son of his special lineage until he was older. Ever since that fateful night, Azoria had been keeping an eye on her grandchild and doing everything she could to help him. Kusari was the last remnant of her beloved Buza that she knew of, so she had infiltrated that slaver camp and been skulking about whenever she could to watch over him and comfort him. She had finally found a way to save her grand child at the last moment and so had taken it. Kusari adapted to his new features as she lead him to the ruined remains of his former home. Neither she nor anyone knew what had become of his mother, and the ruins had no sign of life having been there ever since that fateful day. It was because of this that in the wreckage of his old home, he found the massive sword of his father just where it had been sitting when the Elves had invaded their home. It looked as pristine as it had on that very night and so Kusari took hold of it and carried it with him.
Azoria knew it was time to part before Kusari told her so, recognizing the look in his eyes as she had in the eyes of her mate, his father. She promised to always be looking after him from the waters and big him farewell as Kusari spent the next three years inland fighting and making his way as a mercenary and, on rare occasion, a pirate. He tried to be noble at first but it was soon made clear to him, nobility did not keep one fed. So he learned he was flexible with his moral limits on some issues, in times of need. Soon he reached a town that was being besieged by a landshark, there had been a reward offered and so he took the call. Kusari subdued the beast but stopped when he had been about to kill it because he recognized some of the markings upon it. This was the very same landshark that had escaped with them from the slavers camp. Kusari used part of the reward to pay for a prized hog and let the landshark consume it. After that, the beast seemed to be drawn to him and has been his companion ever since.
Kusari has been reunited with his grandmother a few times to tell her of things for she is the only family he knows he has left in the world. So she knew and even tried to stop him from following through when he went out and sought the aid of wizards and mages to craft his chain into a truly bonded and effective weapon. She also knows that he has declared a personal war against the slave trade in the whole world and is trying to find a way to put a final end to it, though how he intends to she does not know. They have seen less and less of each other in the last three years as Kusari makes plans to see if perhaps Azure’s bond with him can be strengthened despite his faint elven blood.
Kusari lives in two places, a ship large enough for him to live on but small enough to be quick when needed to escape other ships, and able to take him all over the vast seas, and in some saves that are deep underwater in a rock face where there is an air pocket deep beneath the cliffs and open save for him to store supplies or sparse valuables, or sleep and hide out while recovering. Due to the nature of this set of caves they are one in that chamber in with the air pocket is one of the safest places in all the world. No one but Kusari and possibly his grandmother know of this place but it is located somewhere on the eastern coast of the eastern continent.
