Lazro

Lazro of Braavos is a young water dancer in Rasaban’s sellsail crew. Although a skilled duelist, he is a man of his vices. He drinks, he gambles, he lusts. His hedonistic tendencies will surely be the death of him.

Appearance and Character
Lazro has a pair of grey eyes set in a slender face, complete with a sharp jaw and a thin nose. He has the olive skin common amongst Essosi folk, and a mess of short chestnut hair. He stands at the modest height of 5’10” and his build is lean.

Lazro is a charmer. When it comes to noble ladies and courtesans of class, his words are honey to the ear. Beneath this pleasant exterior, however, Lazro is a rough man. His mannerisms are parroted from the Braavosi highborns he would duel for, masking the persona one would expect of a young man from the slums of Drowned Town. Amongst his own, gutter rats and sailors and other unsavory folk, he unclothes himself of the façade. Lazro is a cynic and a debauchee; between violence and pleasure, he expects to live a short life, but a good one.

He is quick, and he is precise. Lazro has been a bravo for the better part of a decade, and his skill is reflected by his label as a water dancer. Although he can speak both Braavosi and Common, Lazro can neither read nor write.

Early Years (418 AC - 431 AC)
Lazro was born in the Drowned Town of Braavos in 418 AC. His mother was a freed slave of Myr and his father a crabber. When he was only a babe, his mother’s teat went dry prematurely. Lazro often claims that this happening is what forced him to grow up so quickly. Folk living in the slums often experienced difficulties making ends meet, and the family of three was no exception. He was a cutpurse by nine and a small-time thief by ten. At eleven, his father died of the bloody flux. This left him as the man of the house, and Lazro did what he could to provide. He began to work odd jobs when able and sold his ill-gotten prizes on the greyer markets of town.

Lazro was disagreeable in his younger years, an unfortunate trait brought upon by his father’s passing. He would often return home to his mother covered in cuts and bruises; marks of brawls fought during the day. These scraps occurred with the other children of Drowned Town’s poorest, along with members of the orphan pack that infested the flooded manor on the east end of the slum. They could have stemmed from a dispute over a bread loaf or an unsavory comment. In truth, if Lazro was asked today, he would not remember. The Sunken Wit, a local groggery, began to host brawls between the young ones upon which patrons would wager whenever the tide was not flooded into the lower level enough for eel fighting. By thirteen, he was a little champion of the streets. The arrangement brought him a fair sum of coin. His mother did not ask how he had come by it, and he did not tell, but it made life just that little bit more comfortable.

It was during this time that Lazro encountered an old bravo colloquially referred to as the Leech. The man was once among the most renowned duelists of Braavos, but fell from grace after suffering a crippling and becoming addicted to milk of the poppy in the aftermath. The Leech now haunted the inns and dives of the Secret City, searching for green boys he deemed to have potential in the art of the water dance. He found Lazro in the Sunken Wit, and offered him training in the ways of the bravos—for a pretty price, of course. Lazro accepted, and embarked upon his journey to learn the art of the sword at the expense of plunging himself and his mother back into poverty.

Young Adulthood (431 AC - 439 AC)
The Leech chose his protégé wisely. In a few short years, Lazro was a force to be reckoned with. He had duelled his way from the squalor of Drowned Town, through the ale shops and whorehouses of Ragman’s Harbor, to the Moon Pool itself. In the deep night, the songs of steel he played until drawing crimson garnered him respect and glory. Some even went as far as to call him a true water dancer of Braavos. He caught the eye of the Ferrego Opios, a wealthy merchant at the head of a large family who held connections from Lorath to Volantis. Opios proposed that young Lazro served as his personal champion, and the boy said yes.

It was a decadent lifestyle of fine drink and upscale company, interrupted only by infrequent spats of bloodshed. Whenever Opios had a disagreement with rival businessfolk, Lazro would duel their favoured bravos. Whether this was simply for the merchants’ entertainment, or if it determined the outcome of ongoing negotiations, he did not know. But these dances were few and far between. More often than not, Opios paraded him about as a trophy. He accompanied his employer to ballroom festivities and the pleasure barges of renowned courtesans. The memory of Drowned Town became foggier each time he tasted the fruits of society’s upper echelon. He developed a charm during this period of time, beneath which many a highborn wife fell spellbound. However, he also realized that this hidden life was not all that different from the one he was born into. It was equally as cutthroat and unforgiving, but where streetfolk were candid and forthright, these rich ones hid behind smiles like smoke and mirrors. Nothing was sacred, nobody was true. The world was harsh, and he faced it with a cynic’s eye.

Lazro’s sixteenth year was marred by the death of his mother. He had not seen her in months when she passed, too involved with high society. When the news came it broke him. He turned to drink and whores. After serving as an embarrassment to Opios during a business dealing, he was cast out onto the streets from whence he came. He slept through the days, fought through the nights, and reeked a medley of vomit and liquor through it all. For four years, this was his life.

Rasaban and the Purple Scarab (439 AC - Present)
In 439 AC, at the age of twenty, Lazro met Rasaban, the sea captain, at the Sunken Wit whilst gambling on an eel fight. The seaman was stranded in Braavos with his men after ship suffered damage in a storm on the edge of the Shivering Sea. Rasaban saw past Lazro’s vices to his skill with a blade, and offered up a place in his crew. The young bravo dearly wanted an escape from the life he had created for himself, so he joined. It took several months for the repairs on Rasaban’s vessel, the Purple Scarab, to reach completion, but they were back on the water just after year’s end. Rasaban sailed them down the Narrow Sea toward the Stepstones. Tales of blood and betrayal had reached the crew of the Purple Scarab, and their interest had been piqued, for such butchery was often accompanied by boon.