You were raised aboard a large ship. Superstition be damned, there were women aboard, including your mother. You never knew any place as home, only the holds of the ship. Your cradle was a hammock, and your playgrounds the dark, dank holds and the cargo within. Daggers and fids were your toys. When you got to land, the closes thing to the holds you could find was caves - them landlubbers just love them windows too much. Still, a seaman’s life has no concern but making it to the next port, and keeping one’s meals in either the bowl or belly, and you still live that way…
Skills: Fighter, Cook, sailor
Traits: Devil May Care, Home on the Waves
Home on the waves: You’ve become so accustomed to life at sea that you find no problem to fight or move in all but the most unsteady platforms, and swinging on ropes is second nature… but unless you’re swaying with the waves and hearing the lapping, sleep escapes you and silence is utterly foreign to your ears.
Bonus when on unstable platforms or swinging on ropes, or using ropes
penalty: when having to keep quiet, when trying to sleep on a non-moving surface, when avoiding salty language
Fid: hand/carried, pack 1, or belt/weapon. A wooden spike for rope-splicing and certain knotworks, plus holding open holes in canvas and in a pinch, as a belaying pin. Both tool and weapon.