Princess Lucrezia Pravus
Who am I? I am the clamping jaws that took your legs, sailor. I am the fear of darkness beneath the waves. I am the captain of the Wanton, so for all too many on the waves... I am death.
Description: Lucrezia Pravus doesn't walk, she stalks in a mix of alluring aggression and seductive grace. A lean-looking woman that is more sea serpent than frail courtier, Lucrezia's noble bearing and confidence point to a definitive noble ancestry, one that hails from the dark waters of Setarco. The dirty blonde hair and tanned skin point to a life at sea and the experience that comes with it, but in her eyes there is a glint of malice that is all too natural, something that comes from within, coupled with the unhinged airs of someone who has spent too much time in the sea. The captain's face has a certain roguish charm to it, some confidence born of knowing she is not possessing the raw beauty of some of other nobles, and she doesn't really need it to take what she wants. Lucrezia's lean body has its curves, but it is her gait that demands attention, something sultry and feral all in one.
Personality: Lucrezia is the charming outsider, in all her roguish glory and unhinged nigh-madness. She prefers to go where the tide of her desires takes her, where there is something worthy to be conquered, be it rival to be beat, a new record to be set, or a new lover to be won. She loves flourish and speeches, and has a soft spot for omens, folklore and verbal sparring. Intense and mercurial, her only constant is Pravus, the captain's true anchor. Outside loyalty to her family, she has no patience for pretty dresses, the right way of using dozens of silverware per meal and fake smiles. She cannot abide for fake compliments and will speak her mind, perpetuating the Pravus stereotype for being the source of many a scandal. Hard to rein in, she was born to be free.
Background: Lucrezia was the daughter of the celebrated Tiberio Pravus, the Sword of Setarco and Butcher of Luciva. Lucrezia was his biggest fan and from a very young age all the Lycene girl wanted was to make him proud, be brave and loved, a true hero of Pravus.
These dreams made Lucrezia's childhood chaotic. While others in her age range were learning courtly etiquette, she was playing with the servants' sons in the forgotten hallways of the Pravus Keep, pretending to be the protagonist of many legendary wars. One day she was the cruel Mariana Andolini, and in the others a brave Sword of Nilanza. Her tutors had more gray hairs than most, always chasing the wildchild around.
It all changed during Belladonna's rise to power. Lucrezia first found her father Tiberio poisoned in his bed and then the Piero's bloody self, the murderer standing over him. Lucrezia wanted to charge the assassin, die with her family, but her peasant friends kept her from it, dragging the noblewoman away kicking and screaming. The trio fled and sought refuge in their playgrounds at the abandoned parts of the Keep, but this time going deeper than ever before.
Most in Setarco thought it was the murders that deeply traumatized Lucrezia, and caused her to flee the city and then fall into life as a bloodsoaked pirate, earning a reputation for reckless daring tinged with more than a bit of barbarism. But there are whispers that she found something, deep in those family crypts that night before she fled, something that changed her, and her refusal to speak publicly of it only heightens the rumors. For more than ten years since that night she would remain far away, to not come close to Setarco or the family crypts, until recently, when the Pravosi adventuress returned aboard her own ship, manned by some of the most stoic sailors in Setarco.
Lucrezia Pravus is a changed woman. Aboard an already-infamous galley, the Wanton, and marked by her years abroad, the daughter of Tiberio is back to gain the favor of Pravus, with a crew of eerily loyal men and women serving at her behest and a ship many shiver to behold at the docks. Like any Pravus, she didn't disappoint in her return, bringing treasures and a storm in her wake.