Name: Vassa Lovell. 

Nicknames: N/A. 

Gender: Female. 

Age: Appears Mid-Twenties. 

Species: Enhanced Human. ••Blessed by a Sea God.••

Lifestyle: Pirate.

Occupation: Captain of The Red Dawn. 

Height: 5'7. 

Hair: Honey Blonde. Worn long and wavy. 

Eyes: Pale Sea Green. 

Skin Tone: Fair Complexion. Sometimes Tanned depending on sun exposure. 

Some tales begin with one truth, sometimes something as simple as a name can spark a legacy of fear — One the strikes deep in the hearts of noble sailers and seafarers the world over. 

This is one such tale; for the name Lovell has been whispered behind raised hands, with furtive glances cast about – as if one were in fear of their very lives were they to utter it. It began with Reginald G. Lovell; or as Vassa would call him — her great-great-grandfather. Originally; he'd been a deckhand aboard the merchant ship Aurora – a vessel which was hailed as one of the fastest, if not the fastest and most finely crafted of her time. His is a tale of tragedy — of how one moment can spark an enduring legacy. 

As all great tragedies do — this tale begins with forbidden love; that of a lowly merchant and a noblewoman unhappy with her lot in life. Now I know what you're thinking... 

 I'm sure you think you've heard this tale before; and perhaps you might have heard something similar – but I promise you, it won't have been this tale. 

It wasn't the daughter of an esteemed navel commander whom caught Reginald's eye as I'm assuming most are thinking – no – Reginald, ever the overachiever began to covet the navy admiral's fiancee. A man whom was cold and cruel — a dangerously possessive sort —and Reggie's beloved wanted to marry him about as much as a stowaway wishes to walk the plank and land in shark infested waters. 

But a man like the admiral wasn't likely to let his treasure go —even if she didn't wish to belong to him — and when he learned of Reggie's attentions towards his woman, it began a vicious rivalry. 

It started out small — the Aurora began losing business. The merchant vessel and her crew were no longer trusted to import shipments for wealthy landowners or carry trade from one country's port to another. 

But as time passed and Reggie still hadn't given up his pursuit of the woman — never one to be bullied or forced down a path not of his choosing — things grew violent. Navel ships began harassing the crew — finding any miniscule reason to board; turning sailors out of their beds, issuing threats — damaging what little cargo they'd managed to maintain. 

With no end appearing to be in sight — and with more than their own lives to think about — as unknown to the admiral the woman now carried Reggie's child — they decided to run. To flee in the middle of the night. 

And thus the moment tragedy strikes... 

Like thieves in the night, they stole away from the admiral's home fleeing for a new life where they could raise their family in peace — the crew of the Aurora waiting patiently to carry them away to shores unknown.  

But — they'd been betrayed — the lady's maid had unknowingly revealed her mistress's decision to leave. Mistakenly believing the admiral was aware of the trip she'd concocted to cover her disappearance. Realising that his betrothed intended to leave him — to run away with the lowly merchant. The admiral set a trap of his own — letting them believe they'd gotten away and secretly following them. He bided his time a struck at the precise moment freedom was within sight. 

As they neared the port — with the docks; and the Aurora within sight — they found themselves surrounded by navel officers — some of whom beseeched the noblewoman to return to her fiance; to do her duty. 

When she refused — revealing the truth of her pregnancy and near pleading with them to step aside — even causing some of them to falter in their stance; she ultimately doomed herself. For the admiral was listening and he was overcome with a rage that saw him striking her down — the age old and likely cliche: If I can't have her - no-one can. 

Grief was a funny thing — it could burn as hot as a raging forest fire or roil as tempestuously as a hurricane battering sailors and tossing ships aground on the rocks. At least that was how Reginald claimed it felt as he cradled his dying beloved in his arms – aware that he was losing more than just his lover. 

Perhaps that was what made him do it — he'd never been a very religious man and praying to god — seemed redundant to him and yet... Desperation drove him to beseech the one thing he did believe in — the ocean itself. 

Save my son — he pleaded — if you can't save them both then please — save my son. 

In return he offered himself in service – he would be the ocean's weapon – never to settle on land again. 

And the ocean — or rather an ocean deity — listened. 

His son was healed that night — the water's had roiled; shooting tendrils up from the depths to circle around the body of his beloved — even as her life leeched away. They'd seeped beneath her skin — into her womb; the sparkling droplets cradling the tiny life struggling within and restoring vitality. 

And Reginald? He left the port that night and never returned; a newborn bearing the favour of a sea god – in the shape of a roiling sea glass pendant; cradled in his arms — the crew of the Aurora — once merchants; now pirates whom flew the colours of the sea. 

Our tale doesn't end there — truthfully this was never Reginald's tale at all. It began with him and his story of love and tragedy— of the merchant ship Aurora and it's descent into piracy this is true... but that was just the beginning. Like any great legacy — what came before is necessary to lead to what comes next. 

The promise Reginald made was upheld —he lived his life at sea in service to the very deity that spared his son. But he was not the only Lovell to live their lives on the seas; his son maintained the legacy as did his own son; and his son after that — but when it came time to pass the torch onto the next Lovell — fate spun a devious twist; the vessel which had passed from Reginald to his son, and then to his grandson and so on seemed to have no heir to pass on to. As was tradition — ships — even pirate ships were passed from father to son but Roan Lovell had no sons, only his darling daughter Vassa. 

A girl whom was as in love with the sea as any Lovell who came before her and as determined to prove herself worthy of her great-great-grandfather's legacy. 

The crew claimed it was bad luck — that a woman should never be allowed aboard the hallowed decks of the Aurora — a superstition Roan was inclined to agree with; as never before had a woman flown the colours.  

But fate — it would appear — seemed to have other ideas. For when Roan was tragically and perhaps unsurprisingly killed the sea glass pendant which had belonged to his father and grandfather before him — lit with a glowing hum of roiling divinity only upon falling into Vassa's palm. 

The sea god had made his favour known — a Lovell would remain at the helm. Vassa was his chosen just as her father had been—just as every Lovell had been since Reggie. 

There was one small bout of misfortune—or could it be seen as the silver lining heralding a new era? The crew did lose the Aurora; it sank during a skirmish with another pirate vessel. But Vassa remained undaunted—she commissioned a new vessel—one that fit to her very precise recommendations. A vessel that was even more impressive than the Aurora had ever been and one that she hoped would strike terror into the hearts of their enemies. She named this vessel; The Red Dawn.  

Named such for it's almost cherry red finish—and an old sailor's omen she took a great delight in. 

Under Vassa's captaincy the crew sailed into a new era of infamy — if the Aurora was spoken about in hushed tones and reverent whispers. Then the word that spread about the Red Dawn blossomed like a fastly spreading wildfire. 

The stories and rumours took on a fantasticality all of their own — who was to tell which was true and which was poorly contrived fantasy? To some they were heralded as the villain — a nuisance whom sank navel vessels and put hardworking sailors out of work. 

But others — others whispered a different tale — one of a legendary pirate for whom the sea itself seemed to hold a great deal of respect. Many whispered that she held mastery over the swells — that the tides obeyed her. 

Those same tales spoke of a crew that battled injustices — that challenged the corrupt and acted with the will of the sea itself. That offered home and sanctuary to those whom could claim neither themselves. 

Just who was Vassa Lovell? A hero? A rogue? A renegade? A villain or a monster? An ocean blessed savior? 

Perhaps that is your tale to tell... 

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