Spectrum Irion
ZytePerregrine, or Perre as his acquaintances often knew him, was always a bit of an odd sort. Pirates tend to be the clientele of much more unscrupulous types, and such a statement is closer to describing the moon than it is to this particular young man. And yet oddly enough Perre still counts such types as one of his better customers. This fact owes itself to Perre's rather peculiar profession, as his line of work is the training and sale of dragons. Now, these are not the great lumbering beasts that hunt livestock and spit gouts of flame. Though undoubtedly related, these diminutive scaly cousins are far closer to a reptilian cross of feline and magpie. And with Perre's guiding hand, the perfect companion for the right enterprising pirate. Dragons are natural treasure hunters and hoarders you see, and what pirate wouldn't want an edge against the next crew and boat in their constant quest for gold and baubles?
Of course, one would also expect a man of this sort of profession to have set up shop in a busy port city or otherwise in a place with plenty of unscrupulous traffic. Such types of wares need more than simple word of mouth, after all. Which makes it all the more strange that Perre is in fact more often than not found on a pirate ship himself, only coming ashore infrequently at best to perhaps part with a dragon or two. This state of affairs is also a direct result of his profession. Pirates aren't known for being the most reasonable individuals, after all, and it didn't take the sale of too many treasure seeking beasts before a bounty was put on the young man's head. Pirates have never been very well known for being good at sharing either, each crew wanting their own full share of the gold sniffing reptiles and no one else. The easiest way to secure such a thing was of course to have a monopoly on the supply, and therefore the supplier as well.
So with the snare tightening around him Perre quickly found his only option was to pack up and run, the vast majority of his holdings and stores being left behind in order for the young man to secure the safety of his young charges. And this state of fleeing likely would have worked as well, had Perre not had to make a detour through a particularly nasty bit of town that resulted in him being recognized. It was only at the last and extremely lucky moment that he found himself saved from considerably less than ideal servitude, an enterprising swashbuckler realizing that Perre would be much easier to deal with were he to come willingly to join her ragtag bunch.
And so the captain of the Ivory Crow extended a hand to the young man, offering her help to the frazzled Perre, who really probably should have thought things over for just a might longer before he accepted. The man and his brood were swiftly whisked away through back alleys and side streets, making their way through the harbor and onto the ship with such speed that Perre had barely been thrust into a spare storage room before they made leave of the port, and what had truly just happened finally hit him. Of course, it was a moot point trying to leave after all that, Perre resigning himself to the new place he found calling home.
Thankfully enough such a state quickly became quite effortless for the lad, Perre settling into ship life with surprising ease. And it wasn't long before his spare storage room once again began to crawl with small scaly feet, his dragon brood taking just as well to the salt air and ample enough treasure. The rest of the crew, while more than a little skeptic at first, began to see the benefits of their new troop, with many a member taking to secreting crust of bread or shiny bauble in their pockets on the off chance a dragon might show interest.
Indeed, there is little doubt now in Perre's mind that the Ivory Crow is his home, and the crew his good friends and family. The young fellow is even currently in a relationship of sorts with his crewmate Lael, the resident ship's cook and expert on all things both shaman and herb related. Though a small bit of Perre's mind is still honestly uncertain if such feelings are truly genuine or simply the result of an itch needing to be scratched on both party's accounts.
Frost
