<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/uJsyMA6.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Julian (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2751266)<br/><strong>HP:</strong>9/9 -<strong>AC:</strong>16 -<strong>Initiative:</strong>+6  -<strong>Reactive Aspect:</strong>7/7<br/><strong>Effects:</strong>Sunlight Sensitivity: dazzled, -1 atk and perception<br/><strong>Actions:</strong><br/><hr/><br/>Julian has to clench his teeth hard to keep from outright hissing as he stepped above deck. The dhampir had kept below deck for most of the trip for obvious reasons, only occasionally coming up at night. Unfortunately he'd be unable to hide from the sun any longer, and through bleary eyes he did his best to take in the view of Sandpoint. He didn't know much about the place, but what he did know was that there was an entire sea between it and where he came from, and that was more than good enough for him. Well...a good enough start he supposed.<br/><br/>Trying to keep the morning sun at his back, Julian wordlessly observed the sailors as they prepared to dock. He picked up what he could from their passing conversations, though the longer he stared at them the harder it became to focus on their words, his gaze inevitably falling to their necks instead. Without thinking he licked his lips, his wet tongue polishing his hidden fangs. Watching the men work reminded him of how long it had been since he fed, not a single ruby drop passing his lips since he boarded this accursed ship. Every flex of their muscles, every grimacing bulge of their necks as they hefted and hauled felt like they were taunting him, or perhaps trying to entice him. To some his fixated stare might be mistaken for sexual desire, leering longingly at the beefy sailors, but in truth the boy was starving.<br/><br/>Not literally starving mind you, he could survive well enough on normal food, a mercy of his mortal half. However even if he didn't technically need blood to survive, his body and mind still craved it as if he did, and that craving, that thirst, would eventually drive him mad if he didn't sate it. He knew from experience, for it was how he had ended up in those slavers' hands to begin with. He had foolishly believed he could just kick the craving with willpower alone, deprive himself long enough and the addiction would simply go away. All it had actually done was fray his mind, turned him feral, caused him to lash out like an animal...and that had given the slavers all the excuse they needed to pounce on him. After all not even the most staunchly opposed to slavery would lift a finger to help a blood sucking monster. They could do anything to him with a clear conscious, and so they did...<br/><br/><em>Never again...</em><br/><br/>The captain's words spooked him out of his thoughts, causing him to flinch for a split second, "Ah...yes...my thanks..." he finally answered, head jostling and bestial ears twitching, "I assure you I have no intention of seeing anymore trouble. I've had more than enough of it for one life" he assured. Whether or not that was a lie depended on what one defined "trouble" as. To him trouble was a tight collar and a bloody back, a belly full of cruel men's fluids, fed from both ends. So in that sense yes, he had no plans of getting into trouble.<br/><br/>"Thank you again for the safe passage" he said with a nod and a small smile. And with that simple thanks he took his leave, making his way down gangplank and through the crowd. With no plans on operating during the day Julian decided that 'quiet' would be a good destination for now, and so kept his eye out for this "White Deer" inn he heard mention of.