Sam

[Sam the Sea Monster]

Name: Sam, he pronounces the S with a slight hissing sound when agitated.

Age: Unknown but has been living in the small fishing village for some 30 years or so.

Race: half human half sea monster

Possessions: In his pockets, Sam carries with him his wooden flute, a compose, a spyglass and a small journal that he drawls his own sea charts in. He often has fishing gear within arms length and some tools for keeping his boat afloat. He owns a modest sized fishing boat that he uses to maintain his lively-hood. He doesn't own much in the way of possessions as he spends most of his time out at sea and well his boat isn't really all that big, but what he does own and carry on him is of great importance to him or it's something necessary to his survival.

As far as weapons go, he isn't one for using them. The fishing village he grew up in was pretty peaceful and other than a few rowdy, drunken sailors, there wasn't really much of a reason for Sam to pick up any sort of weapon and learn to use it. When he happens to find himself in such a situation where he might need to defend himself or another, he's more apt to make a fist than anything, but he's more the type to try to settle a disagreement peacefully than to let it escalate into bigger.

Physical Appearance: Sam has rather pale skin for one that spends so much time out of doors. Some of this is caused by being only half human but as he tends to enjoy the more stormy weather to that of a bright sunny day, he tends to avoid a good tan. Long reddish-brown hair hangs down his back in a loose knot. With time his hair has started to resemble more of tentacles then that of hair. On his face, he has a more traditional scruffy fisherman beard along with deep blue eyes. Standing slightly over six feet, he is on the tall side with the large muscles of a man who has worked hard pulling in heavy nets full of fish and maintaining a vessel mostly by himself.

Regularly smelling of salt, sea water, and fish, he doesn't go through great lengths to clean himself of the telltale signs of his job. Along with his smell, he tends to wear the clothing of his trade. He can often be found in thick coveralls, a grey or brown turtleneck and occasionally but not always a pair of old boots. (Often he goes barefoot when aboard his boat on walking on the beach) That doesn't mean that he doesn't cleanup when he wants or has to, when spending longer periods of time on land, he will shower and wear clean clothes.

On his right forearm is a colorful tattoo of a giant octopus-like monster trying to wrap its long tentacles around a ship and bring it under. On the ship is a group of sailors fighting back against the monster and stabbing it with long spears. The colors of this tattoo have faded a bit over the years, but it's still evident that a good deal of detail went into this ink work.

Personality: Sam usually tends to stick to himself, or he would like to if not for the need to interact with others. It is not that he doesn't like the company of others but he has the inner fear that bad things will happen if he gets too close to anybody so he tries to keep his distance. Working in a fishing village has created a need for him to branch out, he must speak with shop keepers and those at market to sell his catch in order to gain the needed lodging and food.

The few people that have gotten close enough to him have noticed that he tends to have ever changing moods. Though usually on the pleasant side, a swift temper could roll in with the crashing of the waves but then dissipate with the tide. Many believe this to be the a mild form of madness created by long periods of being out at sea, so they let it pass. His moods may shift without much indication but they are not without cause, he is by no means a mad man and will not harm another without just cause but that doesn't mean that he won't fire back insults and the occasional punch if provoked, he is a sailor after all.

For some unknown reason, Sam seems to get along better with children than he does with adults. He has no children of his own and he wasn't raised among many other children but there is just something about their carefree lifestyle and their optimism that brings a smile to his face. A part of him would love to one day settle down and have a family of his own, but there's that part of him that says that the last thing this world needs is more monsters.

Strengths/Good Qualities: Spending many years, decades even, among a fishing village one tends to learn the livelihood. A good part of this time he has spent on the sea, reeling in a large catch and learning how to navigate a boat in open water. At the same time, he had also a hand at bartering skills. He may have been granted an advantage at surviving the waters from birth but it is through years of practice that he has refined this skills to nearly an art.

As far as any advantages that he may have been given from birth, the one he makes use of is to rejoin the sea that birthed him. Every now and then, he will leave behind his human life and return to the sea. Sam can release all ties to any sort of a physical form and become his own small body of water, he can't survive in this form out of the sea. In this form, he has no control of his movement and travels wherever the waters take him. The major advantage to this form is that he need not eat or sleep.

When in his water form, Sam has the ability though it may not be by choice, that he can see (well more like relive) old memories of these that have lost their lives at sea. It is but another curse that his mother has left her son with. While he travels the sea, he can lose himself to these visions and become these other people until the vision releases him unto himself.

Then there is his curse, he has refused to use it to cause any harm to anyone. It is what ties him to the monstrous woman of the sea that is his mother. The sweet song of death. The fear of all sailors. If he wanted to, he could use his voice to lure people to their deaths but that is the last thing he wants. No, he will not use this curse of his. Even though a part of him feels the instinctual need to express himself vocally, he has denied himself the right to do so when others were nearby.

When not docked in harbor and when their are no others aboard his ship, Sam has let himself sing at times. The other ability of his voice is not in taking the lives of others but in speaking with the water. He can, if need be, sooth the sea when there is a terrible storm about and to the other extreme, he could bring about a storm if he so wanted. He has never seen the reason to do such a thing. The song he sings, is a old wordless song of the sea that speaks to it in ways that others can not. He can not control the water as much as he can coax it into doing as he would like, it doesn't always work.

So instead of singing, he took up the flute. In his pocket he always carries a small wooden flute that he brings out every so often to play a wordless tune that flows within his blood. It is the song of the sea. With the instrument, his curse loses much of it's potency and only attracts the attention of those around him. They still can choose to ignore him and feel no compulsion to throw themselves into the deadly waters because of it.


Weaknesses/Bad Qualities: There is a major disadvantage to being a sea creature out of water. Too easily can the heat of the sun dry out his skin, causing him to become dehydrated and weak. Travailing more then a mile or two away from the shore would kill him. When not in the sea itself, he must be within the presence of the sea or the salt water that composes much of his body will leave him. For this reason, he carries around a canteen full of salt water and he will pour it on himself during hot days. He also routinely drinks from the sea to remain hydrated.

Possible his greatest weakness is the terrible inner struggle he is tormented with. He may be unable to deny what it is that he truly is but that doesn't mean that he has to be happy with it. Living many years amongst normal people, he has learned to both hate and fear the creatures of the deep. They bring nothing but death and chaos to those that seek only to make a living off the bountiful sea. Sam was different, he was not going to hurt the innocent if he could help it. He may be a monster living among men but he was going to keep his monstrous side in check, ignoring it the best he could.

If in his water form Sam is to evaporate, the salt half of his body would be pulled apart from the water part and he would be taken up into the sky where he would be at the mercy of the clouds to drop him wherever they so please. If he were to fall as rain too far from the sea, he would dry up and die and without the salt in his body, he would not be able to fully transform.

Sam doesn't always succeed in persuading the water to do as he would like and if there are others nearby when he tries, they could become innocent victims of his song. He doesn't get too much practice out of this skill because he is afraid of how far the wind could carry his music and to what extent it could effect others. When he does try to make use of this power, it will leave him drained and he will go into a state of hibernation until he feels strong enough to return to his normal activities, this could take days or weeks depending on the situation.

During his visions, he is at the mercy of these glimpses into the past. Though they may not be able to actually hurt him, he must relive the parts of their lives that the ghosts of the seas no longer have. Too many times has he had to suffer through kissing another man's wife goodbye or living through their last moments as they get pulled down to a watery grave. Coming back from one of these visions can leave him dizzy and confused for hours. Some of these memories become intermingled without his own memories and it has happened more than a few times that he has mistaken one of these visions to be something that has happened to himself.


History: "She 'ad many names that one did. Some called 'er a witch, others a monster or worse. Truth was not many know what she truly was, least not from this world. That's what they all said, da survivors that is." The old fisherman, blind in one eye and smelling strongly of whatever booze he had managed to pour down his throat, paused for a moment in his tale to slam back another slosh of brew.

Ale dribbled down his gray beard, a few strains of it had already lost that bit of color turning white. With a greasy hand, he wiped both his nose and mouth in one swift action. He breathed in deep pulling the running snot back up into his nose. A snorting noise escaped his lips, followed shortly by a think glob of saliva. With that done. He took another drink from his mug and continued on with his story.

"They say she comes from another world. Sure as hell don't come from around 'ere I tell ye. Who knows how she got 'ere but we thinks it has something to do with all them good lookin' men 'ere." He let out a startling full-bodied laugh that drew more attention to himself. Then, he leaned in closer, breathing heavily with his alcohol drenched breath.

I saw her once I tell ye. With me own eye." He pointed to the blind one. The shiny ball of white seemed to glow in the dark bar. It grew eerier the longer this tale drew on.

"So this witch, she comes out of nowhere. We gots no idea what she is or where we she come from but she drove da men mad. One by one I watched my men jump overboard. Some o' them attacked each other to get at the da monster. Aye, twas a sad day I tell ye. I had to stab out me own eye to keep myself from joining 'ose sorry sobs." He wiped a tear out of the corner of his eye and pulled a large fish gutting knife off his belt and stabbed it into the wooden bar with a loud thud.

"I tell ye this lad for ye own good. Beware them seas boy. They be dangerous an there be things out there that'll get ye if ye ain't careful."

When the old sailor had finished his tale, Sam got up from the bar and headed outdoors. He had been looking foreword to a nice night of drinking. Unfortunately that had not been the case. As the damp, salty sea air slapped him in the face he slowly retold the old sailor's tale in his mind. If only he knew just how true his story was.

Though he didn't know for himself where the woman came from, he knew that she was out there, somewhere. The evil mistress of the sea. It was rumored that she haunted the waters as some sort of demon. Whenever one spoke of her, they spoke too of him. The sea monsters, the creatures of the deep, the viscous beasts that pulled ships under and ate men whole. How he hated his mother.

For those that were unlucky enough to wander upon her, a terrible fate awaited them. Many sailors have jumped ship lured by her sweet song. But instead of the dreamlike lives she promised them, only watery graves awaited them. She murdered without cause, without reason. Why? Because she could.

At least her victims were allowed to die though. They did not have to suffer for her actions. They did not have to live the tormented life of a monster. Not like he did. Each and everyday he had to live with the torment of her actions, with the things he was capable of doing. He had to fight the temptations of being a monster yet living the life of a human.

Sam walked slowly down the well worn path that led from the tavern to the beach below. How many times had he walked this path? Hundreds? Thousands? He had lost count long before he even thought to bother with such a useless chore. It seemed like forever he would walk this same path; being trapped along the shoreline didn't give him much of a chance to leave.

He had tried to leave the rustic little fishing village many times in the past but none of his attempts had ever been successful. The sea not only called to him but it controlled him. The further he got from it, the weaker he became. He would dry up, becoming a husk of a man, slowly dying the farther away he got. It wasn't until he pulled himself back to the sea that the water would rejuvenate him. It gave him life. It was life.

Taking his boots off, Sam let the sand creep between his toes. Crash. The waves washed up over his feet, carrying the sand away with it. Another wave came up to greet him in the wake of the last. The tide was coming in, pulling him deeper in. A few steps foreword and he was up to his waist in water. With a look over his shoulder back at the tiny village, he was gone.

He was not pulled under as if may have looked from the shore but he simply let himself go. He rejoined the water once again. For unknown to others, he too was a creature of the deep. Well unknown to everyone except her.

She had been the one to curse him into this life. Her and her evil actions. Her and that sailor of hers that she had kept alive long enough to couple with him as she slowly drowned him. But he didn't think about that now.

As he swam within the water, No, he was the water. Within the gentle caress of the sea, he need not carry about an earthly form and instead traveled freely as the water itself.