Poppy Bragg
For thirty years, Poppy Brag worked on the wharves, unloading cargo and living the life—and reaping the benefits of its generally corrupt, complacent union. The leaders signed deals that looked good on the surface but short-changed their workers in the long haul, leaving them without pensions or other provisions for old age. Bragg, like everybody else, knew deep down things couldn’t last, but who wanted to go up against entrenched leaders? Life’s too short to make waves.
Then Bragg met Emaya Passos, a sailor’s daughter and a bit of a militant. She was just as tough and plain spoken as any of the dockworkers Bragg had known, and she had seen a lot in her time. Freeport was an embarrassment, she believed; the upper classes were decadent, and that base behavior had wormed its way down to the wharves. She was the moral compass Bragg had been waiting for his whole life. They married, and within five years, he’d fought his way to the top of the union. Through sheer force of will, and the occasional judicious use of force, he built a network of allies and gave the dead wood their walking papers.
Poppy may be in his mid-fifties, but he doesn’t look it. He’s short, stocky, and made of solid muscle. His hands are calloused and skin weathered. His dark eyes are quick and alert, and when angry, he has the look of a fanatic. He wears a thick sweater, breeches, and woolen cap. He always has a cudgel on hand to make sure people understand him properly.
Relationships
Current Location
Species
Age
about 55
Spouses
Mother Passos
(wife)
Siblings
Children
Eyes
Brown and Squinty
Hair
Bald
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Tanned
Height
5'7"
The World of Nor
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