This halfling just wants to survive along with a few mates in a brutal world long enough to honor the fickle gift of life.
Shivvie Ma’Leil is a wispy young halfling woman with plain features and dainty fingers covered in the scars of her trade. Despite this, her face is extremely flexible, capable of twisting into ridiculous expressions to communicate a point, the oddest of which bring a happy glint to her muddy eyes. Her black hair is long enough to trail behind her an entire foot if left unkempt, though she typically keeps it in a single, massive braid that places it at just above her ankles in length. Her holy symbol is kept on a loose cord about her neck, iron only because Shivvie is currently working on replacing her last wooden one by herself, though her carpentry skills far surpass her carving ability.
Shivvie doesn’t much care for drinking because it impairs her senses, but she enjoys watching others carouse and have fun. In fact, she often instigates drinking games between others just to gauge who has the heartiest constitutions in a given group, as well as to get a feel for their personalities once ‘civilization’s’ pretense is pulled away. For her part, Shivvie is a patient and soft-spoken individual whose primary joy in life is watching things heal and grow, though she is known for her exceedingly rare verbal tirades, known only as ‘firm talking-tos’.
Shivvie was born in transit to Sargava and spent her life aboard a Sargavan trade vessel that chose the dangerous path of moving through the Shackles shipping lanes. Her mother died when she was still very young in a rigging accident, leaving the halfling alone with her grizzled, irritable father whose tough love spurred Shivvie into following in his footsteps, learning to wield even the smallest saws and sutures with finesse. Though his praise was rare, and his love only visible after he’d imbibed far more alchohol than he should have, Shivvie was happy to stay with him and share his faith in the fickle master of waves and sky, though she ended up going far beyond his lay service when she began to pray to the waves and rain themselves for their majesty. Her belief in Goxreh’s power didn’t grant her family lenience, however, and Shivvie understood this when her father went overboard just a short while ago, unaided by the crew he’d worked alongside as he had seldom worked to make any bonds. Gozreh and the waves were fickle, and they likely didn’t even notice another sailor falling to their depths. Life was tiny and insignificant, but at the same time powerful and sacred. However, one survived by being a part of a functioning colony, much like in the animal kingdom rather than beseeching the beautifully savage forces of nature for mercy that seldom existed. In this respect, Shivvie worked to ingratiate herself to Captain Morgan and his underlings after joining the crew of the Misty Mourner.