Luis Janga

Like all RPR's I develop, this one shall forever be a work in progress. My apologies for ever being behind on developing these.

8/15/20- RPR drafted revived! Art too!

Also, anyone who might feel interested in doing some art of the big lug let me know, I'm always happy to talk commissions!

Beneath the sea there wasn't much, but for the small frenzy of sharks it was a home. Not that home meant any one place, they went where the hunting lead them, barely two dozen and yet ever marking claim to whatever territory suited their fancy. But it wasn't their own strength that they relied on so much as that of the beast that swam among them.

He'd been born on a black day in the sea, an ill omen, and even in his youth he had been misshapen in his brutish size and weight, and bearing coloring too vibrant for his breed. A terrifying beast with a name that simply meant 'Disaster' in their native tongue. Ostracized from a young age, living but on the scraps left of their feasts yet still as time grew on his bulk and ferocity proved so very useful to the small clan. Treated as more guard dog than protector, trained to batter their enemies whether threats, food, or simply sport. He'd never known a life beyond fighting, never tasted kindness or comfort. Feared and loathed by enemies and allies alike he had never been looked at in his life with anything but cruel eyes.

The chief of their frenzy had brought him with when he decreed their first forays onto land, and though the chief and the Disaster were ill suited to the open air the guard dogs size and sheer cruel demeanor was threat enough to still serve his role as bodyguard for their first trade and business. But it was those trips to the shore over the years that would prove to be their clans undoing. For while the whole of his frenzy had only ever looked at the Disaster as some brutish weapon to tear their enemies with, he was no fool.

Not that he was bright of course, there was no genius lurking behind those deadly golden eyes, but there was an animal cunning in them. A pure capitalist instinct that so quickly took in the truth of the world on land. And that truth was money. Coin could get a man anything they wished, it could find food or shelter, for even a terrifying thing like him it could buy company. And there was something that could always get one more money. People. Flesh for coin, coin for flesh. The traders who had shown him the delights of the land and helped nurse him in the common tongue had been amenable to a deal to capture the whole of such strange beasts. It hadn't been hard at all to lure his own people to land, to take his pay for their exotic nature.

But that coin wouldn't last forever, and though there might be other ways to make money, he would stick to what he knew. And so he set out for an island where slavery was the trade of the land. Flesh for coin, coin for flesh.

By Sasha Ska