Race: Human
Gender: Male
Height: 6 ft
Name: Jacob 'Keelhaul' Witt

Jacob Witt cuts the figure of a man frozen in his prime.. broad-shouldered, corded with the strength of a lifetime at sea, and worn only by experience, never by age. A black patch seals one eye, and the other watches the world with a predator?s patience, sharp and appraising. His dark hair is drawn back against salt and wind, a few loose strands framing a face marked by a thick beard and the faint confidence of someone who has survived too many storms to fear the next.

He dresses like a professional, not a peacock: leather vest scarred by blades, a wide belt cinched with a red sash, and a well-worn bandolier slung across his chest. A cutlass hangs at his side... kept honed, kept close. Every buckle and strap speaks of practicality, every scar of payment rendered and collected.

Long ago, Jacob sold his soul to a Devil for what all pirates crave and few admit: time. The bargain arrested his aging but not his conscience. Though his flesh remains unchanging, something infernal glimmers beneath the surface... an unnatural steadiness to his pulse, a heat in his gaze when contracts are spoken, and the faint smell of brimstone when blood hits the deck. Devils might remember him and Clerics might sense him. The sea itself seems unsure whether to claim him.

Jacob Witt sails on, unchanged by years, carrying the weight of an eternity he cannot outlive. A captain bound by oath and iron will, he is a man caught between tide and Hell... still free, for now, and determined to spend every stolen year on his own terms.