Corvinus is a man who seems to be melting under the coastal humidity. His frame is immensely portly, draped in layers of what were once fine Tethyrian silks, now darkened with rings of perspiration and splashes of old wine. His skin is slick with a permanent sheen of sweat that makes him glisten unpleasantly under the lantern light of the docks. He moves with a heavy, waddling gait, yet his fingers are surprisingly long and nimble, dancing over the surface of his ledgers with spider-like speed. Despite his slovenly attire and the faint scent of brine and cheap cologne that follows him, his fingernails are immaculately filed and painted with a clear, expensive lacquer.

Corvinus is a man of jarring contradictions. He is a master of administrative order who thrives on the chaotic corruption of the docks. He treats every copper coin with the reverence of a holy relic, yet he will spend thousands on a single bottle of imported Elven vintage to drink alone. He is outwardly obsequious and fawning toward anyone with more power than him, but he is a cruel, mocking tyrant to the laborers and deckhands beneath his station. He harbors an all-consuming, bitter hatred for Captain Marrow, seeing the pirate's freedom as a personal insult to his own tethered, bureaucratic life.

The son of a lowly scrivener, Vane clawed his way into the Blackbrine Bay administration through a series of increasingly daring blackmails. He secured the position of High Harbormaster by 'accidentally' losing the previous master's navigation charts during a storm, leading to a disastrous wreck. He has since turned the port into his personal piggy bank, skimming off every shipment of spice, iron, and ale that enters the bay. His rivalry with Captain Marrow began ten years ago when the Captain refused to pay a docking bribe and instead slapped Vane across the face with a wet octopus in front of the entire port authority.