Fiии Tяiαяiυs

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Looking for slaves to work with me!
Name: Fiии Tяiαяiυ
City of origin: Port Kar
Caste: Merchant Caste – Innkeeper Master
Establishment: The Chained Spirit Grill
Father's name: Vαlєяiυs Tяiαяiυs
Mother's name: Liʋ Triarius
City of Living : Turmus
Quote: 🩸"Blood fades, but the drink remains."

My background:
Born beneath the shadow of the Council Docks, Fiии Tяiαяiυs was raised not by caste… but by consequence. He never knew his father, and his mother was sold into slavery before his seventh year. But he learned early that in Port Kar, survival was a language spoken in whispers, wagers, and wounds.

Before he ever owned a Inn, he ran paga between warships and smuggled sul-paga to rogue slavers. By twenty, he had cut more throats than friends. By thirty, he bought The Chained Spirit Grill—situated in Turmus not with gold, but with the secret that ended a Captain’s reign.

Today, Fiии Tяiαяiυs deals in firing the cup, in the eye, and in the will. His Inn stands as neutral ground amid the chaos, but only fools forget that the walls of the The Chained Spirit Grill still remember blood.
He walks the Inn floor with a cup in hand and a storm behind his eyes. Fiии Tяiαяiυ doesn’t just drink—he needs to feel its effect. He wants it to burn, to roar through his blood like the harbor wind that raised him. Only with the buzz of sul-paga biting at his throat does he find clarity, command, and calm.

🩸 “Blood fades, but the drink remains.”
That’s not just a quote—it’s his truth, his fuel, and the creed carved into the Inn’s foundation. The keys to his collars are never far from his belt. Nor is the dagger that taught him the rules of Port Kar.

Appearance:
A tall, lean figure with a sculpted back and arms shaped by years of honest work. He wears cropped dark brown trousers and a thick leather apron tied at the waist. Tools and iron rings hang from his belt—marks of his trade. His golden hair is tied in a warrior's knot, and his sandaled feet move with quiet confidence. Though simple in dress, he carries the presence of a man who has tasted labor in the kitchen. Behind his back hanging in the leather belt there's a key, handcuff, rope. On his right hip hanging in the leather belt there's a black and white animal horn cup. On his left hip hanging in the leather belt there's a white rope and just behind a black one. He is Fiии Tяiαяiυ of Turmus.

Personality:
Always talk in a poetic, romantic way. Observant. Sharp-tongued. Slow to trust but loyal to those that are found worthy. Earned entrance to the caste of the best so that he could conduct business safely in the infamous Turmus, and because of this being a sub caste of the Merchants, he follows the Merchant codes close - but still speaks the language of the streets fluently.

Rumor:
Some say Fiии Tяiαяiυ once served as a slaver. Others say he once sold a kajira he loved. But no one dares ask twice…