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  • Lady Lyfja Sky Umbranox CC [ Warrior ] (under construction) Jul 20, 2018

    Chaos Ablaze

    "I rose from the ruins of my homeland. Grew against the rough seas and breathed the flames of despair. I am the chaos to your order, and I will destroy it until every fragment is nonexistent. Now prepare yourself, for I will bring you the death you deserve." - Lyfja

    [​IMG]

    Name:
    Lady Lyfja Sky Umbranox

    Nicknames:
    She simply goes by the name Lyfja, and solely "My Sky" by her mother.
    Her last name and title is not to be told to anyone.

    Race:
    Imperial [75%] Nord [25%]

    Gender:
    Female

    Age:
    27 Years

    Height:
    5'6 ft.

    Weight:
    130 lbs

    Sexuality:
    Bisexual

    Laterality:
    Right-Handed


    [​IMG]
    APPEARANCE:
    (All artwork is not completely accurate to the appearance of the character,
    but is rather closely affiliated with his or her appearance.)


    [Refer to Profile Art Below Initial Title]

    Apparel:


    GEAR


    Weapons:



    Magic:



    Other:


    [​IMG]
    PERSONALITY AND VOICE


    Personality:
    Lyfja is a woman of unrelenting determination and courage. Due to her upbringing, she can be cold, distant, and serious in the face of adversity, and does not back down. She is very goal-driven, and will do what it takes to succeed. In the hardships of her life, she learned to become tough both physically and emotionally. Despite her cold emotional structure, she, deep down, longs for the affection and love her family and friends once gave her. Loneliness fuels her drive to compete her goals, and feel as if she has nothing left to lose, which puts her often in harms way. While it may seem foolish to attempt such actions, many do not understand the truth behind no longer having anything to lose.

    Lyfja is extremely intelligent on knowledge of combat, street-smarts, and people. While she may not be academic, her knowledge and ability to problem-solve in quick-paced scenarios is all she feels she needs in such a harsh world. As such, she is very independent and tends to complete her tasks alone. Despite this cold independence, she cares deeply for the innocent. This is driven by her past, and desire for peace. She feels that she is someone who has the capability to do the dirty work, and will do so if it means the children and families of the future will be safe and at peace.


    Fighting Style:
    The woman's fighting style is aggressive, balanced between defensive and offensive, precise, accurate, and skillful. With years of training and a chip on her shoulder to drive her, Lyfja is a fierce warrior to be reckoned with. Her lance and sword are her go-to weapons of choice, but is crafty and witty enough to make due with anything she can get her hands on.

    Habits:
    + Tends to push herself too far, both mentally and physically, and will eventually break, both mentally and physically.
    + Being extremely stubborn and independent to the point of annoyance.

    Voice:
    Sarah Kerrigan - StarCraft 2: Heart of the Swarm



    Likes:
    Lyfja is extremely fond of the sea; listening to the ocean waves lulled her to sleep all her life, and she still enjoys the soothing sea. Because of this, she also enjoys wind blowing in the trees, which replicates the sound. As a child, she always adored dresses and jewelry, but growing up poor she never had such, except for he mother's necklace and a dress her mother made her for her tenth birthday. A hot bath is just as enjoyable as feeling clean, but that too comes from the lack of it in her life. Food of any kind is very enjoyable as well. Animals tend to be fond of Lyfja, as she is of them, especially dogs. Children are fond of her as well.

    Dislikes:
    With all of her being, Lyfja despises the Thalmor; perhaps more than the Stormcloaks of Skyrim. While she is not spiteful towards the Aldmeri Dominion, any who express agreement towards the Thalmor's extremist values are immediately despised by the woman. Injustice is despicable to her, and she is willing to break rules to help others if the law is corrupt. She dislikes lies, and finds it rather irritating and a waste of time rather than telling the truth when it comes to non-essential people in her life.

    [​IMG]

    MISCELLANEOUS

    Affiliations:
    Lyfja is the only living heir to the city of Anvil in Cyrodill, that was destroyed 30 years ago by the Aldmeri Dominion.


    Afflictions/Fears:
    With the loss of her entire family, she feels as if she has nothing to lose; therefore, she fears very little. She has very few friends, but will protect the ruins of Anvil and try her best to not put them into harms way. Her entire goal is to avenge her family... and destroy the extremists of the Aldmeri Dominion for good.
    Other than that, she fears nothing. However, she will often push herself too hard or too far to the point where she can hurt herself and required aid from others, despite not wanting it.



    Properties:
    Her home is the ruins of Anvil on the shoreline. She technically no longer owns Anvil by birthright due to the invasion, destruction, and conquest of the city, but hopes to someday return it to its former glory.

    Job:
    Her job is her own; she is not for hire, and she has only one goal: to destroy the Thalmor. She loots what she salvages from their bases and corpses. However, back in her hometown, she was a farmer and a tailor.

    Other:


    [​IMG]
    HISTORY/BACKSTORY

    [Summary]
    Lyfja was born in Anvil, Cyrodill, 3 years after the invasion and conquest by the Thalmor. The city was in ruins, and whatever Imperial government was in the city was vanquished. The noble family, Umbranox, was no longer in power, and chose not to, as there was barely a city to lead. The elder son was killed during the invasion, and the father and mother survived. Three years later the mother gave birth to Lyfja. The living residents made a make-shift village from the ruins and ran peacefully, much like a town.

    The Thalmor invaded again and destroyed the town when they realized people were living there still, killing Lyfja's father when she was twelve. Following in his footsteps from when he used to train her, she continued to learn how to fight while working alongside the village. She kept her father's lance that ran the Umbranox family for generations.

    By the age of 19, a third invasion by the Aldmeri Dominion occurred, except this time she joined the fight, killing many soldiers. Her mother was mortally wounded in the chest, but the injury would not catch up to her until 3 years later, when she would pass away in the arms of Lyfja.

    By the age of 23, a year after her mother's death, Lyfja left the village in order to pursue the deaths of as many Thalmor as humanly possible. As a rouge, her sole purpose was to kill. She joined a few others on her travels, but most often was a lone soul. She killed over a hundred mer in her time traveling, making her way to Skyrim by the age of 25 to eliminate the heavy influx of Thalmor soldiers and leaders.

    Unfortunately, her death streak in Skyrim would be cut short, as after two years she would be finally captured during her ambush on a Thalmor fortress. Surprisingly, a certain Thalmor agent was not as loyal as he seemed, and he had taken an interest in Lyfja's story.



    [ Detailed ]
    The darkness shrouded the shadow that lurked around each corner. Silent she made no sound, and like an assassin, she was graceful on her feet. With many weapons at her disposal, she was ready to attack when necessary. Her eyes watched as a shadowed figure formed on the walls as the flame of a torch danced.

    Hiding behind some crates, she listened intently. Only one. Once the man passed, she pounced silently, grabbing his mouth and slitting his throat. She quickly and quietly brought his body behind the crates, his golden armor soiled with blood. She grabbed his keys and placed them in her pouch to avoid the clanging noise they often made.

    Onward she went, pressing forward through the cold stone hallways. She already killed thirteen guards to get to where she was, one by one. She was surprised by how easy it was at first, but more and more often she had close calls.

    Laughter filled the air as she pressed her body against the wall, listening carefully. Peering around a corner, there was another room not too far that held many elves dining. "They're such buffoons! It would just be easier for them to be slaves again.. right? Right!?" They all laughed in unison, their snotty attitudes making the female's face scowl.

    "I've tried telling them... they just don't listen; like a bunch of children. We don't have to kill them if they just follow orders, it isn't that difficult." "Precisely! It's just more work for everyone." "I can just remember their 'honor speeches' and how 'they won't surrender'... bah! They make me laugh!" The laughter ensued once more, which gave Lyfja the chance to quietly dash by the room.

    As the brunette visualized the area, it seemed that the only ones left on the property were in the dining room. It was a small base with no more than thirty guards, and she had already killed a third of them. There were two floors; she had killed the guards outside, a few on the inside, and was now watching the first floor. There was no second upper floor but watchtowers, which she had already cleared. The basement was the other floor, which held the prison cells. She knew that a commotion couldn't be heard from the main floor if things went awry, but a few blood-curdling screams may echo far enough past the doors.

    Counting the number of heads, she added up to six. Far too many to take on at once... although she had before in the past, but it would be a risk. A bow would get two dead before being noticed, but that would still leave four... much more manageable. She made her way back to a prior dead guard which she grabbed his bow and arrows. She had to act quickly, as who knew if any guards changing shifts had already noticed the dead bodies.

    Back she made to her post, eyeing the elves. She noticed two easy targets; closer to her, and both facing the opposite direction. She readied her arrow, aiming carefully as well as avoiding the tip of the arrow to glimmer in the light.

    the first arrow struck true, the elf simply limping over with instant death. With only a few seconds between, she fired the second, killing another before he could stand up. They already found her position, so she tossed the bow aside, drawing her lance and jumping forward. Fifteen down.

    One pushed forward as she blocked, spinning the lance as she jabbed forward. Around she spun, taking out another from behind as she blocked, side-sweeping him. One shot a fireball forward as she blocked it with the thick blade of her lance, firing it back, to their surprise. The lance was no ordinary lance... and they now knew. She returned every fireball with a spin, blocking the flames and lighting. Light flashed off the walls, crackling and shooting everywhere. One after another Lyfja would seemingly fly across the room, jumping and spinning.

    As one went to slice her with his conjured sword, she did a back-flip as she readied her lance, she pushed forward on her land. "Hya!" The lance pierced through his body. Sixteen. Pulling it out, she jabbed the other end into an elf from behind, breaking his ribs. She saw an elf out of the corner of her eyes trying to escape the room to warn the others. She removed the dagger from her side and threw it, landing straight in his neck as he fell forward. Seventeen.

    One after another she blocked the blows of both blade and magic. They were closing in on her, but she managed to do a quick roll away. As one went to swing she once again did her signature back-flip before pushing forward. However, she merely scratched him, as her foot stepped forward int he push.

    Boom.
    The flash of white light sent Lyfja flying backwards, her lance leaving her hand. Her head hit the stone floor along with the rest of her body as it skid to a stop, her lance clinging as it hit the floor. The ringing in her ears made it impossible to hear though. Her eyes opened only to meet a blurry world. Disoriented she tried to sit up, barely able to sit straight as her body swayed with her vision.

    The strongest lightning rune trap she had ever felt... let alone seen. She felt like she was in a dream, her body not listening as she tried to stand only to stumble. She could hear muffled laughter, and feel the warmth of blood running down her face. It was warm... so warm... It didn't take much for another guard to push her down back to the floor.

    Her eyes glanced to her lance as she went to reach for it. Then the pain. There they electrocuted her, Lyfja's screams echoing off the stone walls. With vision still blurry and hearing barely available, she could only slightly make out their words. "The bitch will pay... death is a mercy she will not have..." they laughed. Another round of lightning shot through her body, paralyzing her movements but only intensifying her screams. Eventually, the pain and electrocution knocked her unconscious.

    It was the warmest feeling she had ever felt. It was so comfortable... it was as if she had never slept in her life and finally got to feel the embrace of sleep. However, the pain set in as well as the cold. Her eyes opened once again to a blur, but quickly adjusted compared to before. In front of her were rusted bars. Below her a bucket for excrement and above her chains which held her hands. She could not sit or stand, and the pain from her wounds were already unbearable.

    "Well well well... good morning princess." A voice mused from the other side of the bars, a smirk on his golden face. "You caused quite the commotion back there... killed seventeen of my men single-handedly. I must admit you are a ferocious woman." His perfect teeth sparkled in the light of the torches on the walls, only making Lyfja scowl more so.

    "Aw what is the matter? Does your guest room not fit your standards? I'm sorry if it isn't good enough, but I'm afraid you overstayed your welcome the moment you arrived." With a frown he zapped the woman, her screams echoing in the dungeon. He chuckled, amused by her response. "You have some vocals on you too. If you were an elf I'd say you'd be a great toy... but we do not touch filthy humans in such an intimate manner." He remarked, smirking devilishly. The woman kept her eyes closed before he zapped her again.

    "Look at your superiors when they speak to you, welp. It shows respect." Lyfja's eyes rose as she met with his, before spitting on the ground while locked in eye contact. He laughed at her response, running his fingers across the rusted bars. "You humans are so amusing, really. Our last friend broke very early though; wasn't much fun. He quickly told us his secrets and we let him go to wherever in oblivion you humans go when you die."

    To the cell beside her still chained were the skeletal remains which still adorned his armor. "The stench was horrific... still lingers down here, but where else are we supposed to put filth?" "Up your ass." The Altmer paused a moment, his eyes furrowing before a smirk appeared on his face. "Oh, so it can speak words other than screams? How fascinating... care to share why you came here yesterday?"

    Lyfja stared him in the eyes, the crusted blood from the battle before tickling her skin. "To kill all of you." She spoke blatantly. The male sighed, tapping on the bars. "Yes yes I understand that... but WHY did you come? Under what circumstances? To join the Stormcloaks? To fulfill a mission? Just for fun? Details m'lady details." The woman frowned, staring at the spit that left a wet mark in the dirt. "Just for fun."

    Another shock of pain filled the room with her screams, the light flashing from his hands and her body. He stopped, her body limp. "This action will not go unpunished. We will track down your friends and family and have them understand what happens when you have fun like this."

    "My family died because of you; all of you. One after another after another... destroyed my home more than once... riddled the land of the corpses of the innocent. You deserved no mercy from me, elf, and you can get nothing from me. You can't hurt me." She cut him off, anger burning in her words. Once again he frowned, more irritated now than playful. "We'll see about that, brat." She smiled, raising her head once more. "Your efforts are in vain. You won't will; will never win. The Gods will make sure that your race suffers for all eternity for what you've done. You've already failed."

    For days she was tortured. Electric shocks, no food or water, unable to sit or stand, and constantly woke when falling asleep. To keep her alive, they force fed her after a week and drowned her in water for the coldness of the dungeon. She was always above her own feces and urine, it soaking her clothes and skin. Her wounds began to become infected, a fever overcoming her. Her breathing was uneven, and her body hung from the chains as she could no longer support her body.

    Two weeks of suffering, and she never broke her promise to her home; to always protect them. It angered the elves more, which only made the suffering worse. In her courage to face them however, they realized they tortured her too much, and she was on the verge of death; to them, that was mercy, which they did not believe she deserved. She was so exhausted, her screams no longer echoed; she no longer had tears or could make a sound other than the outward breaths she made while in pain. She was almost a lifeless and destroyed doll.

    Halfway through the second week, she was barely responsive. The world felt surreal. The pain and stench was numbing, to the point where she no longer felt anything. She just hung there to the wall, awaiting death. She had killed hundreds of elves on her own, and yet she still felt like it wasn't enough to stop them. In her mind, she too failed to avenge her family.

    She was lost in her subconscious, but could faintly hear the sound of metal creaking. She could no longer tell the difference between reality and her mind, so she did not respond. The feeling of someone grabbing her torso did not affect her as she stayed limp. The chains of her hands were unlocked, her body falling into the person's arms. Who would want to touch such a disgusting state of a person covered in their own excrement was beyond her, but even then she could not tell what was going on.

    Her body was carried quickly as she could feel the breeze of swiftness. Warmer and fresh air eventually caught her breath, easing her breathing. Once she felt the warmth of the sunlight, she passed into unconsciousness.

    *****

    To her, it felt like no time had passed. The feeling of soft fabrics on her skin tempted her to stay asleep as she slightly awoke. She took the offer, her face rubbing on the soft blankets that hugged her body. It was the most comfortable she had ever felt in her life... and this time, it was true. Living in the ruins of a destroyed city was no comfort, but to her, there was nothing different. This was luxury. This was sleeping like a queen.

    After a few hours more, her mind caught up to her. 'Where are you? What are doing here? Why are you alive?' It called to her. Eventually her eyes fluttered open, meeting the soft warm morning sunlight from a window. Birds sang nearby, their shadows passing in a flash from the sunlight as they flew. The temptation to just lay there forever was powerful, but her mind knew she needed to awaken.

    Rubbing her eyes, she felt the softness of her face. Her skin was surreal... never had she felt such smoothness. Quickly she ran her fingers through her hair, the silkiness mesmerizing. Continuously running her fingers through her hair, she ran to the vanity in the room, still barely able to stand. She shakily held her body up as she leaned on the vanity, looking in shock at her reflection in the mirror.

    "M-M'adam!" She heard a voice call out to her. It was a Bosmer woman, her hair pulled up in a bun. She sat down the tray of tea as she quickly ran to Lyfja. The brunette tried to escape from her grasp, but was far too weak. Pain followed her struggle, the woman trying to hold her up. "Calm down, dear! You are going to injure yourself!"

    Following the struggle between the two, a tall male entered the room. He wore expensive looking armor, polished and intricately designed. His skin was gold, glowing in the warm sunlight which pierced through the windows. Lyfja's eyes glued to the male before she screamed and tried to run at him. The Bosmer woman tried her best to hold her back, shouting that she is hurting herself.

    The male stepped forward, placing his hands on the broken woman's shoulders. "You are safe. I promise." Lyfja hesitated, but finally stopped struggling, her legs giving out below her. She was braced by the Altmer as he picked her up and carried her back to the bed. The Bosmer fixed the bed so she could sit up against the soft pillows. The male gently sat her down, the woman pulling a light blanket over Lyfja.

    The brunette still seemed upset, but she knew she had no choice but to comply. The male sat down beside her as he pulled up a chair, the Bosmer maid leaving with the tea tray rather quickly. Lyfja refused to look at the Altmer as he looked at her. He gave a gentle sigh, placing his hand on the bed.

    "You are lucky to be alive, you know." He spoke, earning no response from the brunette. "You looked like a rotting corpse. You were on the verge of it too." Silence. "It took a few days of extensive medical attention and healing to your body." Silence. "Do not worry; I did not look upon your body. I had the maids take off your clothes and bathe you as well as take care of your body." Silence.

    Lyfja was awaiting some sort of extensive scolding for not responding, or an array of arrogant words.
    But she was instead greeted with kindness from the Altmer.

    "I understand why you are quiet. I don't blame you - I would be upset too. Take your time. Just... please accept my aid." With that he stood, giving a small sad smile before leaving the room.

    ...

    A few days passed without a word muttered by the woman. Only nods of 'yes' or 'no' were given to the maids, and every time the Altmer male visited, he would chat with the woman, telling her about the weather or a silly story. Lyfja refused to respond, but always listened, and throughout the days that passed she would actually look the elf in the eyes as he spoke.

    TEXT COLOR
  • Lady Vesnia [Cleric] CC --UNDER CONSTRUCTION-- Jun 18, 2018

    Divine Intervention

    "You wish to enter the grounds of Lady Vesnia? The Voice of Mara? Very well... enter with peace of mind and a warm heart, for Mara speaks only for those who are open to her words..."
    - Guardian of the Sanctuary of Mara


    [​IMG]

    Name:
    Lady Saskia Arwen Vesnia

    Nicknames:
    Lady Vesnia, Saskia, and 'Kia

    Race:
    Imperial [50%] and Altmer [50%]
    She is considered a Breton, but is technically not as Bretons have been bred exclusively to have their own race, as well as the man side being Nordic instead of Imperial. Because of this, she is not downright Breton, but refers herself as such to lesser-known people to keep questions and confusion at bay.

    Gender:
    Female

    Age:
    24

    Height:
    5'8

    Weight:
    120 lbs

    Sexuality:
    Heterosexual

    Laterality:
    Right-Handed

    APPEARANCE

    (All artwork is not completely accurate to the appearance of the character,
    but is rather closely affiliated with his or her appearance.)

    Apparel:

    [​IMG]

    GEAR

    Weapons:


    Magic:


    Other:


    PERSONALITY AND VOICE

    Personality:

    [​IMG]


    Fighting Style:


    Habits:

    + Often


    Voice:


    Likes:
    + Jo

    Dislikes:
    + Fa

    MISCELLANEOUS

    Affiliations:


    Afflictions/Fears:


    Properties:


    Job:


    Other:


    HISTORY/BACKSTORY

    Summary:


    Detailed:



    TEXT COLOR
  • The Shade [Thief / Assassin] + Lost Soul [Thief / Assassin] Jun 14, 2018

    A Blade's Tragedy

    "Shade? Never seen the man smile. I mean, he has smiled, but not genuinely. Like most of us rats down here, he's got a nasty bark and a nasty bite. The only time he ever stops talking is if someone asks him about his family. And I suggest you don't."
    - Random thief in the Ratway



    [​IMG]

    Name:
    Logan Damien Lachance

    Nicknames:
    The Shade; he is specifically called this, and barely anyone knows of his true name.

    Race:
    Unknown, but by appearance, he is of human origin.

    Gender:
    Male

    Age:
    27

    Height:
    6'2

    Weight:
    175 lbs

    Sexuality:
    Bisexual

    Laterality:
    Ambidexterous

    APPEARANCE

    Despite his height, the male is untraceable in the shadows.

    Apparel:


    GEAR

    Weapons:


    Magic:


    Other:


    PERSONALITY AND VOICE

    Personality:

    [Silver-tongued, rude, sarcastic, snarky, ill-tempered, patient (only during combat; not socially), apathetic, vengeful, cunning, reserved. Built a barrier of hot-tempered and careless silence that is almost impenetrable. Deep down, he harbors depression from the loss of his sister, and releases all horrible feelings on other. Is very caring towards and animals when not seen. Adores children.]

    Fighting Style:


    Habits:


    Voice:


    Likes:


    Dislikes:


    MISCELLANEOUS

    Affiliations:


    Afflictions/Fears:
    [Never finding his sister; dead or alive. Hopes the latter. Low blood sugar, so often carries sweets to try to counter.]

    Properties:


    Job:


    Other:

    HISTORY/BACKSTORY

    Summary:

    [Basic history: Lost young sister to a band of assassins. Became enraged and swore vengeance on the group (tbd). To find her, he became a rouge who dabbled in the trades of a spy, assassin, and thief to get by. Joined groups to get info. Never gives his true name, but was given over time the name 'The Shade' due to his shadow-like stealth and horrifying attacks. Ironically, he often lives in the shadow of his former self, focusing only on revenge for the loss of his sister Morgan. He is given a lead that her name was tossed around in Skyrim: meaning that perhaps she was still alive. Eager to find her, he left Cyrodil for Skyrim. he feared that she was being held captive by the Thieves guild or Dark Brotherhood. Little did he know, that she was alive and well... searching for him, as rouge herself.]

    Detailed:

    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    [​IMG]

    Logan's sister, Morgan Rose Lachance.

    TEXT COLOR LOGAN

    TEXT COLOR MORGAN
  • [Warrior] CC ***under construction*** May 25, 2018

    (This character is heavily inspired by one of my favorite villains, just for awareness!)

    Blackened Heart


    "You're a damn fool if you think you can waltz on in to that place and come out alive. We're lucky to have him cornered inside; but who knows when he'll come charging out of there! We don't even know why he went into those dark ruins... But you should've seen his eyes... he's a gone man, I say."

    - Betner the Ironhand, Blacksmith of Falkreath.


    [​IMG]

    Name:
    ...

    Nicknames:
    ...

    Race:
    Breton [100%]

    Gender:
    Male

    Age:
    27

    Height:
    6'2

    Weight:
    190 lbs.

    Sexuality:
    Heterosexual

    Laterality:
    Left-Handed

    APPEARANCE:

    [​IMG]

    (All artwork is not completely accurate to the appearance of the character,
    but is rather closely affiliated with his or her appearance.)


    [Refer to upper artwork, as it directly represents his appearance.]


    Apparel:
    [Refer to upper artwork]


    GEAR

    Weapons:


    Magic:


    Other:


    PERSONALITY AND VOICE

    Personality:

    [​IMG]



    Fighting Style:


    Habits:
    +

    Voice:

    Theme Song:


    Various Quotes:


    Likes:
    +


    Dislikes:
    +


    MISCELLANEOUS

    Affiliations:


    Afflictions/Fears:
    +

    Properties:


    Job:


    Other:
    +


    HISTORY/BACKSTORY

    Summary:

    Damien was once a lower-class noble hailing from High Rock. He and his partner, Eveline, were madly in love. He desired a future of power alongside his 'queen.' He was told all his life that he would rule the kingdom and surpass others in succession due to his battle prowess and keen sense of leadership.

    However, as the time came closer to having the throne, repeatedly signs that this was all untrue began to arise. Finally realized the truth of it all when his beloved spoke that she wished not for power, but to only be by his side; rich or poor. In anger, he stormed away from the castle in the darkened and stormy night. Along the way, he found a glowing blue orb, tempting him with whispers of power beyond his imagination. Following the orb out of frustration, it spoke for him to return with his lover.

    For the power of unimaginable strength, he sacrificed the one thing he loved most; Eveline. He was then slightly possessed by Boethiah, the one who set the bait. Now under Boethiah's influence, he became mad. He stormed the castle with his newfounded Demon Sword, slaughtering any and all who stood in his way.

    He did not get far when his lover's voice was heard in the distance. Boethiah, fooling the man, spoke of a power hidden in Skyrim that would bring his lover back to be loyally by his side, and to become even more powerful. Damien leaves the city and flees to Skyrim, mad with a thirst for power.

    There he continues to wreck havoc, until Boethiah manages to convince him of the place the 'power' is hidden, in which the townspeople cower at what he may unleash in the depths of the ruins...



    In-Detail:
    TEXT COLOR


  • Warrior Princess [Ranger] Apr 8, 2018

    Harbinger of Nature

    "Their chief... it is true what they say... that she is as beautiful and powerful as nature itself... she carries the heavy blood of an ancient race... she looked so... delicate... but we were wrong... as you can see... she is a warrior princess, sir... we... failed... please... heed my warnings... let them go find what they want... they will return... and stay at peace... do not mess with nature... she will kill you sir... she will kill us... she will kill us..."
    - Dying Thalmor Agent


    [​IMG]

    Name:
    Chieftess Artemis by her tribe and outsiders; during ceremonies, 'Queen of the Wild' - a reference to the Bosmer sacred power of "The Wild Hunt", which she visibly possesses.​

    Nicknames:
    Artemis by her close allies; she had the childhood nickname Rainy by her best friend, and 'Butterfly' by her parents.

    Birth Name:
    Artemis Anurraame Cenedelin

    Race:
    One of the few last-known with the blood of the Ayleid still prominent in a body. Her and her tribe, while being mixed with cross-breeding of Imperials, Bosmer, and other Ayleids, is still, internally and spiritually, very Ayleid.

    Gender:
    Female

    Age:
    22 Years

    Height:
    5'6 ft

    Weight:
    120 lbs

    Sexuality:
    Heterosexual

    Laterality:
    Right-Handed


    APPEARANCE


    Skin/Scale/Fur Color:
    A creamy beige.

    Eyes:
    Bright green - said to reflect the the magic of The Wild Hunt.

    Hair Color/Horns/Ears:
    A very dark brown that almost appears black.

    Hair Style/Feathers:
    Her hair is straight and long, kept in a low-hanging ponytail. At times she will braid the hanging, loose, ponytail.

    Build:
    Lean and muscular, although the muscles are not heavily defined.

    Scars:
    None - she had many in the past, but with natural medicine she has treated them away.

    Tattoos:
    None, until she bears children; as the ancestors of her tribe did.

    Piercings:
    Ears

    Other:
    Freckles speck her face, giving her a more earthy complexion compared to the other 'prim and perfect' mer and men races. It makes her appear more youthful as well.

    [​IMG]

    APPAREL

    Constant Wear:

    [​IMG]

    Traveling as the chieftess of her tribe, she is considered to be the embodiment of Nirn's energy and is treated as such. She wears her ceremonial headdress always - even if in battle. This also applies to her earrings; her 'birth charms'. Because they "centralize her energy", she is at her best in battle with such talismans.

    When traveling, lounging, or going about her daily business, she will wear her chieftess attire; black as night silks and cottons that flow with the midnight breeze. Below, it is highlighted with the sun's rays of light. The attire is meant to mirror the balance of light and darkness of Nirn. The golden hues greatly contrast to the dark tones of the outside, providing insight to the balance. With where she is from being very hot, wearing a showy top cools her down and the gown protects her legs from wear and tear. If cold, she has an outer cloak she can place on herself with gold dangles, much like the rest of her normal attire and jewelry. She is an astounding sight to behold, which is the intention of her people. As a representative of nature and energy, she must be as beautiful as it, according to her tribe's long history.​

    Armor:

    None, truly. In battle, she finds herself far too fast to be hit. Even then, she should never be in the middle of battle, lest it is a battle for power and dominance. Even then her tribe finds excess armor "weak", as one cannot truly prove their battle prowess. If needed for battle (or even if the weather is unbearably hot) she can remove the main skirt to reveal a short linen that covers what is necessary. She will also remove her gloves, knowing that such dazzling appearances are useless in war.

    [​IMG]

    GEAR

    Weapons:

    [​IMG]

    "I won't miss," is the most direct way to describe the warrior princess's fighting style. As the chieftess, she is meant to be protected but powerful - she leads her people to battle, but does not take part in the front lines. Instead, she is a ranger - a complete master of archery. She could easily hit the same target and slice and arrow down the center with the wind blowing uneasily. A moving target? No difference. During her induction, as chieftess, she used the phrase "I won't miss," and it has become her playful catchphrase within the tribe. To be and archer and claim to never miss, is one thing - to actually never miss, is a feat of itself.

    Thus, her main weapon is her trusty bow: a beautifully crafted, durable, and powerful weapon. It is a dark brown color, and, when in possession of a leader with 'Nature's Blessing', its inner curves and openings glow a bright green. Depending on the user's magic ability, it can cause massive amounts of physical and magical damage to the enemy. Some examples include: causing plant life to grow in and out of the wound causing immense pain and organ failure depending on where the wound is, causing nearby plant life to entangle the target with venomous thorns - no matter what species of plant life surrounds the foe, instantaneous paralysis to the foe, and etc. To summarize, she may be one of the best archers in Tamriel, and with her bow, she becomes a dangerous adversary. The bow was given its name the moment it was forged: Mulagir, the Bow of Swift Winds.

    Upon times of spiritual natural magic ceremonies, the chief is given the ceremonial staff by the elders of the tribe. The staff is only to be used during important trials or devastating ordeals. It was a gift from Kynareth many eras ago, that was passed down from generation to generation. It combines the energy of Nirn with the user, creating an ultimate power. It's capabilities have never been tested, but as legends go, ancestors have defeated armies with its blessing. However, it comes with a great price: life, and death. The stronger the magic and combination of energies, the more likely its user will die. Over time, at least seven chiefs have died using the staff during battle: with their life, they pay, but as with life after death for the earth, its use was for good. Therefore, the wise elders only grant the chief the staff during ceremonies and intense battles for the good of their tribe, and the world around them. Artemis, since her rise to chieftess, has used the staff before. Mostly during ceremonies, and only twice during battles. She knew not to use much of its magic, but even then it was very draining for the little magic she used from the staff.

    Her final weapon she uses other than the magics of nature is her metallic claws: a traveling researcher came to their tribe long ago, only a year after she became chief. He gifted Artemis a weapon he forged in her honor: gauntlet gloves that protruded long sharp talons when harnessed from the user's energy. He spoke that they were strong enough to protrude armor, and if she were to ever be in close combat, she could feel the balance of nature all while having the ability to penetrate the newer armors of other civilizations.

    [[explain the ceremonial staff with immense energy, but very draining and dangerous to user]]
    [[explain melee claws used for predetermined battle and only in dire situations]]
    [[natural magics (below)]]

    Magic (If applicable):

    Being the spiritual bridge between Nirn and the Heavens, she must be able to balance the magicks of the worlds. It will take decades until she can fully master her powers. After resigning as chief due to age, most become monks who meditate with the winds in order to become stronger magickally and spiritually. These resigned chiefs become master healers and communicators within the tribe, as well as spiritual teachers for upcoming chiefs.

    With Artemis' relatively quick rise to the rank of chief, she had only the small time of training before she had to commit to the Harbinger's Ritual. It was much harder on her due to her relatively weak spiritual state, as she was not old enough. However, she has practiced just as much as she does with her weaponry, and has become quite a force to be reckoned with. She had no choice but to quickly practice and learn under the harsh circumstances.

    With her abilities, she can use basic spells of universal schools, but the magickal teachings of the Ayleids passed down from generation to generation is different. They focus on harnessing and balancing the energies of the world around them: bending light, creating focal points of energetic blasts, harmonizing with plants and animals to bend their will, even changing the winds and waters. Her skills are heavily reliant on her weapons still, as she is far too young to master what takes decade to understand. Yet, she has a capability that many outsiders are curious and bewildered by; a magic of nature.

    Other:
    Artemis carries with her what is necessary for different types of situations. It differs depending on battles, travels, hunts, etc.
    [​IMG]

    PERSONALITY AND VOICE

    Personality:

    [​IMG]

    Before her ascent as a chief, Artemis was a rebellious and confident child. She was a fantastic warrior with unrivaled moxie. Her ferocity matched that of a tiger; graceful yet dangerous. Not only was she energetic, but witty and intelligent. Her talents did not simply lie with physical attributes but the mind as well. She learned quickly and soaked in knowledge like a sea sponge. This created a balance that allowed her to become very talented in many things: a gift perfect for a future leader.

    Despite her stubborn and outgoing nature, she had a calmer side to her that was often hidden from the public. The only time it showed was when she showed gentle kindness to those who needed it. She was a gentle-like flower in secrecy, praying to the Gods as a priestess would. She did not want to seem weak and gentle in the faces of others, but would be mature and respected during ceremonies.

    After her ceremony as chieftess, she became quieter; a shell of her former self. She was no longer a laughing bundle of joy, but a serious and dedicated chief. Artemis became almost expressionless, and her cries were muffled by her hands so others would not hear in the night. It was not until she met her future lover Percius that she is able to return to her happier state of mind, becoming fun-loving and energetic as before.

    Fighting Style:



    Habits:



    Voice:



    Likes:
    +

    Dislikes:
    +
    [​IMG]

    MISCELLANEOUS

    Affiliations:

    Afflictions/Fears:
    +


    Properties:

    Job:

    Combat Skills:

    Other:
    +


    [​IMG]

    HISTORY/BACKSTORY

    Summary:

    Detailed:

    ~ { Note: Any dialogue that is underlined "like this" is spoken in the Ayleid tribe's personal language, Ayleidan } ~


    One fateful early afternoon, a few tribesmen returned from a hunting trip with a man tied and bruised. They were forcing him to walk to the center of the tribe's city as other tribesfolk watched the outsider. He was not severely injured as it seemed he barely put up a fight. He wore a large backpack and many strange satchels. He wore strange glass wrapped in wires in front of his eyes that made him appear like a wide-eyed insect. His frail body matched that of an insect: long but thin. He wore long clothing that was too thick for the weather. He looked wary and terrified but at the same time, curious.

    The strange man was taken to the Chief: Artemis. She turned around to face the intruder, her blackish hair and chiefly dress flowing with the mystical breeze. Her glowing green eyes met with the simple brown ones that stared at her in disbelief and awe. "What brings you to our lands, stranger?" She asked, taking a step towards the captive. He continued to stare as if he was looking into the eyes of a Goddess. Finally, he shook his head, giving a sorry smile. "I... I'm afraid I do not understand your language..." He nervously chuckled, his wired face glass slipping slightly from the sweat and angle at which he was detained.

    Artemis continued to stare calmly and maturely at the man without a mere expression other than elegance. "You speak the language of the Thalmor...?" She asked, changing her language. The man's eyes sparkled as he laughed nervously. "A-Ah, yes... I can speak their language... but I am not part of the Thalmor." "I know this." She quickly responded, taking another step closer. He nervously watched her as she studied the man, tilting her head around him. He gulped, taking in short breaths. She came even to his face, eye-to-eye, mere inches from touching. He held his breath as their eyes met, her bright green eyes...

    She backed up, keeping her hands together and lowered. "Release him." The tribesman did as they were told, the man stumbling to the ground. He quickly stood up, adjusting the strange facial wear. "What is your name, stranger. And what brings you to our lands?" Artemis asked, the tribesman still on guard. The man smiled nervously, adjusting his robes. "M-My name is Percius Gale Blakeley... I am a Breton from High Rock... I came in search of... in search of this tribe." Despite being secluded from the world, the tribe made sure to send out people to gather information; history of other places, and happenings of the world, so that they can be prepared for dangers. She knew of High Rock, and the researchers who were usually scared off. She was surprised that the tribesmen captured him instead.

    "I am the Queen of the Wild: Chieftess Artemis Anurraame Cenedelin, the leader of the remaining tribe of Ayleid's." In response the man could barely say anything. "I... I-I am pleased to meet you, Chieftess Artemis..." He spoke, bowing skittishly. The woman slightly smiled at the man's awkward demeanor, bowing her head. "Why have you come to seek our tribe, Percius Gale Blakeley?" The man cleared his throat as he pushed up his facial glass. "I-I have come for knowledge... I read in books of this - erm - your, mysterious tribe, and the strange practices of magic... as well as your history. I thought of you to be a hidden gem among legends, and yet... here you are, right in front of me! It's... it's incredible!" Percius was very enthusiastic about the tribe, much like a small child when hitting a target for the first time during archery. The woman smiled again, surprising the tribesmen.

    "Then I welcome you to our tribe." "How do you know if he is not a spy, Chieftess?" One tribesman asked in seriousness. The woman turned and bowed her head as she closed her eyes. "I could sense him... his eyes... revealed honesty, my brother. Trust me in this." With a bow, he stepped back in agreement. The other tribesmen returned the cart which they removed from him and bowed to the welcomed stranger. "Please; let us give this visitor a warm welcome. Ask the others to prepare a meal and guest hut for him. We shall introduce him tonight during the dinner hours." Without hesitation, the tribesmen scattered, off to their duties. Artemis faced the confused man, giving a kind smile. "Welcome to our tribe, friend."

    Because he was not of Thalmor origin, but a simple Breton, she welcomed him to the tribe. He spoke of the tales he was told of their mysterious and ancient tribe, considered "a hidden gem among legends". After the tribe's thanks, he offered them food and seeds of crops outside of their area to help them, as well as precious metals and other gifts in his cart: all in exchange for research of their tribe and their history. After the elders spoke that he was not a spy and of good intentions, Artemis was pleased to help, and for a week the man stayed and observed the tribe, as well as documented their lifestyle.

    [[Gods speak of responsibility to spread nature's divine gifts and respects. Problems with the Green Pact VS her tribes own beliefs increase. Does not want to leave the land but knows a war is yet to come.]]


    [[Prayers are answered from the Gods and Nirn. Tales of a talisman deep within the far lands of Skyrim that has the power to protect her Aelyid tribe from hostile neighbors to keep their lands they were given centuries ago. The artifact could only be obtained by the harbinger of nature - Artemis knew she could not stay behind to protect her people, but had to leave. Puts her most trusted friend to keep order while she is away, but makes sure to keep constant contact.]]



    [[Traveled through many kingdoms, bringing along certain appointed members of her tribe to join her on her quest. She is able to obtain more aid from other kingdoms, due to her surreal magical connection to Nirn's energies and nature. If she was able to gain her talisman, she would speak with the Gods to bless the fair lands who aided her as well as bestow upon them her own powers of balance and nature. A small army was sent to Valenwood for extra support against the Thalmor threat, which is another reason for the surprising support.]]

    [​IMG]

    [[With the entrance into Skyrim, her appearance was not without its rumors. She would not stop until the talisman was found and her tribe's future was safe. But spreading the awareness of Nirn's nature and energy was not her only duty... it seems the Gods had another fate for the woman; to aid the Dragonborn.]]

    TEXT COLOR
    Snoball, Keidivh and Specter of Death like this.
  • Mercenary CC Sep 9, 2017

    Warrior of Heart

    [​IMG]

    Name
    : Title - Spenser the Brave. Calling - Spenser [Spen-sir]


    Nicknames: Spense
    Birth name: Spenser Bergfalk

    Race: Nord [100%]

    Gender: Male

    Age: 26

    Height: 6'2

    Weight: 190

    Sexuality: Straight

    Laterality: Right-Handed


    APPEARANCE


    Skin/Scale/Fur Color: Fair-Skinned

    Eyes: A light hazel: leans more towards light brown with shades of light green.

    Hair Color/Horns/Ears: Beige blond

    Hair Style/Feathers: Short on the sides, but longer at the top. The front is usually swept upwards to stay out of the face.

    Build: Muscular, but lean.

    Scars: Multiple, really. Two that intersect one-another on his upper right forehead above his eye, one on his left shoulder, one on his left bicep and one on his right lower arm, on on the right side of his chest, and one on his left calf. He also has very faint burn scars on all ends of his limbs.

    Tattoos: One, medium-sized, on his left bicep of a dragon, colors ranging from red, to orange, to yellow hues, starting from the bottom to the top.

    [​IMG]

    Piercings: None; he doesn't want anything to get caught in battle.

    Other: He usually looks dapper as if he tries, but in reality, his appearance comes natural to him.


    APPAREL

    Constant Wear: His constant wear is essensially his armor. He carries what he owns with him everywhere, so having many different types of clothes isn't an option. He wears fur thin clothing beneath all armor, for firsts. He then has a thick layer of leather armor of different shades (brown and black)and then scaled steal chainmail. Finally, a green outer coat, exterior leather armor, and exterior steal armor. Many layers, for the many cold winters. And villains.


    GEAR

    Weapons: He carries a long, thick-bladed greatsword. The sword was given to him by his father, first created by his great great grandfather. He takes great care for his weapon, and repairs it whenever need be. It is said that, his great great grandfather had the blade blessed by magic so that it could resist it. Unlike most enchantments, this magic blessed by the blade allows it to block most magic much like a shield, if the blocking is done properly by the blade's wielder. With time, it is said that with enough practice, some magic can actually be parried back to the magic user. It is a very sharp and strong blade, allowing it to survive generations of use. While it may be a greatsword, it can be wielded with both two hands or even one hand, allowing versatility. However, due to its larger size than a normal one-handed blade, it takes far more training - and talent - to wield it to its full potential. With years of training and with generations of knowledge on the blade, Spenser becomes a powerful fighter and protector in his own right.

    [​IMG]


    Magic (If applicable):
    While he knows no magic, he respects the skill and is quite amazed, unlike most Nords. He tried long ago, but struggled to learn. Without the support of his family to learn, he eventually gave up.


    Other: He carries everything he owns with him: which isn't much. Of course, he is quite packed with gold, as he doesn't buy material items except replacement clothing, potions, food, etc. With him he brings health and stamina potions, spare food, water, all of his gold (what idiot bandit would try to get that from him?), a map of Skyrim, and some sort of sweet treat. He also carried his most prized possessions: a decorative yet durable potion bottle that carries his water, a fancy spoon, his sword, and a small metal charm of a star that is tied around the neck of the potion bottle by durable rope.


    PERSONALITY AND VOICE

    Personality: A man of his word, blade, and honor, he fights to protect those who need it. He often wears his heart on his sleeve, as he feels it is unnecessary to hide one's emotions lest they cause certain situations to change. His kindness and humble-demeanor often portrays him as the epitome of a knight. His generosity is given to all: men, women, and children can be at ease when the protector arrives. As an optimist, he tries to make the best of every situation, unless it is disrespectful to do so. He is not much a joker, but he will always try to make people happy again to see their smiles. When people need protecting, his courage and determination will rise above all to succeed. He has the passion to never give up in battle. Despite being a mercenary, he will help those who do not hire him but need aid for free. He has common sense, but he is not as well-educated as most mages and scholars. He is proud that he did, however, get a bit more education than the majority of Nords. His heart is surely as strong, if not stronger, than his own might.

    Fighting Style: As a sword and shield user, he is a melee, close-distance fighter. He is both an offensive and defensive unit, due to his sword's abilities. He never ruins straight into a battle without tactically thinking of his choices. He may not be the most scholarly, but his intellect in battle is supreme. He is quick on his feet, gives the heaviest of blows, and can defend from the largest of foes. If he had ever traveled, he would surely become one of the greatest knights in his time. However, he is happy to travel and help those in need within Skyrim, given the circumstances. But he will never give up in battle, even if it will end in failure. He may not be as brutal as his Nordic heritage says he must be, but he will fight with honor, to the very end.

    Habits:
    + Sleeping in late
    + Being a bit too open and passive with his innermost thoughts and emotions
    + Overprotective
    + Thinking with his heart more than his mind
    + Tapping his foot when impatient


    Voice: Zack Fair - Final Fantasy VII


    Likes:
    + Training: to better himself, of course.
    + Cooler weather: wearing layers of armor can take its toll in the heat of battle.
    + Sparring: practice makes perfect, especially when it comes to sparring.
    + Mercenary work: while he dislikes aiding those who may not deserve his protection, he is still happy to help, and feels as if he doesn't work a day in his life.
    + Children: he finds their innocence something of great value in Skyrim, and he easily reminisces on the days of his own childhood.
    + Sleeping in: He is not much of a morning person, and loved to sleep the day away if he can.
    + Alchemy: he is quite talented in alchemy for starting 13 years ago. He does not really sell his alchemy though, and rather gives potions to the poor when he can, since he makes money as a mercenary.
    + Sweets: food in general, but he has a sweet tooth.


    Dislikes:
    + Foes: by foes, it is those who he believes unfit for Nirn's true potential. Those who fight for war, rather than peace. Those who murder for selfishness, those who steal for their own benefits, monsters, criminals, corrupt politicians... the list can go on.
    + Discrimination: whether it be discrimination of race, origin, lifestyle, political background, gender, etc., discrimination hits a little too close to home for him. This can, at times, bring a spark of outrage from the usually peaceful fellow.
    + Hot weather: it is a rarity in Skyrim, but when it occurs, overheating and dehydration are horrible possibilities that Spenser hopes to never endure ever again.
    + Illness: another hit close to home. Hence the reason why he is so passionate about helping the poor: they often become more ill than those with healthier homes, or homes in general. Plus, the event with his sister.
    + Leeks: hates the taste, and certainly can taste them no matter what is attempting to cover the flavor.
    + Fire: to a certain extent. He believes it to be something both beautiful and destructive.
    + The Thalmor: From his past, it is obvious as to why he would despise the Thalmor, and hope to someday be a part of their end. While he wants to bring happiness to all, he know that to do so, he must rid Nirn of those who bring hatred.
    + Nightmares/PTSD: He often wakes in the night from nightmares: hence his love for sleeping in a peaceful place when he can to catch up. His PTSD is rare unless he runs into magical enemies burning people... which has only happened twice since he became a mercenary.


    MISCELLANEOUS

    Affiliations: None

    Afflictions/Fears: He fears that he may lose more of his loved ones. He understands the hurt, pain, and sorrow of losing people so close and dear to one's heart. It is his pure drive to make others happy, their lives content again, and to find peace within a war of despair. He also fears fire: from his accident of the past, fire can be a frightening PTSD trigger for him. Now, sitting by a campfire is something relaxing to him, and watching fiery magic is entrancing to him... but as a weapon, it can trigger his past. It is another reason he dislikes too much heat.


    Properties: He owns no property, except for the gear he carries with him. He hopes to someday own a small home once he believes it is time to settle down.

    Job: Mercenary - but unlike most in Skyrim, he is chivalrous and respectful for others, and is in it for the righteousness, rather than the gold.

    Combat Skills: As with any mercenary, his skills with the blade is his best attribute. As a mercenary who mostly deals with surprise attacks and not as often planned ones, he is a quick both in his mind and his feet when it comes to battle. He can practically predict a move of another before they can strike, and can easily counter it and or block it. He is quite strong as well, despite not looking like a burly orc. He has the speed to outmatch (despite wielding a two-handed sword) and the strength to strike. While he may be weak to magic, with his enchanted sword, it blocks magic very efficiently. He has even managed to reflect whatever magic was shot at him back to the person who aimed it at him in the first place. It is a different type of sword to deal with, being a light-weight yet hefty two-handed sword with superior blocking capabilities. This makes him easily outshine other mercenaries. With the help of his father's training years ago, he also managed to learn how to wield such an odd sword. Because of his armor and career, sneaking is not much of a necessity. However, he has very keen hearing, and is observant enough to find assassins from afar. It is his job, at times, anyways.

    Other:
    + He is a happy drunk: he never drinks on the job, of course. And he never intends to become 'wasted': he has never gotten to the point of no return when it comes to drinking, but every now and again, with a cozy and happy enough atmosphere, he may become a bit tipsy. When he does, he's certainly a happy guy you want around.
    + Despite being optimistic, no one is truly 100% happy. Because he wears his heart on his shoulder, it is easy to tell if he is upset by something. If caught, however, he will often brush it aside to push forward forced optimism. He will, however, after being acquainted with someone, express his true thoughts and emotions. He isn't one to hide it, which often makes the heartier Nords ridicule him for being open about such things. However, he does it in his older sister's honor.
    + Unlike most Nords, he does not worship Talos. This is one thing he is not very open about. However, he is very respectful to Talos, as he know that he was once a great Nord who deserves to be honored. He prays to the eight when need be, but most of all, Stendarr, Kynareth, and Mara.
    + He is becoming better with alchemy in due time.


    HISTORY/BACKSTORY

    He was one of a happy family of five. He was the middle child, with a mother, father, older sister, and baby sister. Growing up was something that he would always cherish. Playing with his older sister in the garden, practicing with the sword, and eating his mother's pies. His older sister, Kynithia, was three years older than him. She was named after the Goddess Kynareth, and he, after the God Stendarr. They both, ended to live up to their names. His father would teach him to be strong, his mother taught him to be emotional, and his sister taught him to be kind.

    While he followed in his father's footsteps of being a swordsman, his sister followed the broken path of his mother. Her mother had begun to be an alchemist, becoming very talented. However, she ended up settling down and having Kynithia with her husband. Taking whatever notes his mother had, Spenser's sister brought back to life her mother's lost career. She was extremely talented, and often tested harmless mixtures on her younger brother, simply because he was always watching her. He was always curious and facinated by her work. As she grew older, she began teaching Spenser her alchemy, which amazed him even more so. At the age of ten, Spenser's mother gave birth to his younger sister. She was named Marin, after the Goddess Mara.

    Both siblings adored their younger sister, and helping her grow to be strong and beautiful was no exception. The next few years were just as great as his childhood. The family dinners, late night star-gazing, and simply being next to the warm fires in the winter. They all loved each other dearly, despite some obvious differences. While his father was a supporter of the soon-to-be Stormcloaks, and his mother, the Imperials, they all still loved each other the same, no matter the political differences. They let their children grow ignorant of the civil war, allowing them to choose their own path in life when the time was ready.

    This peace would end, however, in the flames of civil war.

    One night, while the family was asleep, Spenser awoke to a mysterious noise outside the home. Being a curious thirteen-year-old, he grabbed his father's sword - the one he wields to present-day - and left the house. With the sounds of footsteps running into the forest, Spenser ran after them, assuming they were bandits. He did not want them to escape if they had stolen something. However, as he chased them, he lost sight of them. He continued to wander the forest, looking for the perpetrators. He had heard that bandits had attempted to raid a neighboring house a few nights earlier, so he wanted to search for them. Despite his efforts, he never found the 'bandits'.

    He did, though, find something far worse. A light in the distance, and a large plume of smoke rising. It must have been burning for quite some time, to be so alight. But that direction, was his home town. Without a second thought, he ran towards the light. Closer and closer he came, he could hear the screams: his family. Tears streamed down his face as he ran, finding his home alight in the flames of fate. He could hear their screams: his mother... his father... his sisters... He went to run inside, but the townsfolk held him back, knowing that no amount of water buckets could stop the flames.

    But he was strong, and with such adrenalin, he escaped their grasp, running into the flames. He could feel the fire licking his arms and legs, burning his clothes. At the time, he could not feel such physical pain: but rather, the burning of his heart of devestation. He ran to the first room, his parent's room, finding it completely engulfed. He shouted their names, with no response. Then he heard the cry of his baby sister: only age of three. Running to his sisters' room, he fell through the floor, caught on burning wood. He screamed in agony, trying to pull his leg out of the planks. Finally he managed, falling to the ground. He coughed, the smoke becoming far too heavy. But he would press on.

    Finally he made it to his sisters' room, the door on the ground already engulfed. He could barely step into the room. The heat was too strong, his limbs burning, as well as his lungs. He could barely see, but he would not stop. All he needed was to save one; at least one. He pressed on, managing to reach the crib. To his horror, he could see the still burning remains of his dearest Marin. He let out a blood-curdling scream that struck fear in townsfolk. Then, without another second, the home collapsed on itself, trapping Spenser with his deceased, and still burning, family.

    A few townsfolk ran inside, hearing his weak coughs and shouts for help. They managed to pull him out, patting away the singed clothes. His body was covered in burns and cuts, and his lungs filled with smoke. With the inability to breathe, Spenser became unconscious, allowing townsfolk to give chest compression to make him breathe again. It took him three days before he was able to awaken. His body was sore, his breathing uneven, and his life weakened. Despite their attempts to keep him away, he needed to see his family. He approached the house, limping, gaining the help of a local friend. The house was still smoldering, ashes blowing from the light breeze. The house no longer had the warmth it did days ago. It was cold, barren, and left with the glowing embers of memories nevermore.

    He broke down, crying on his knees, unable to witness what was left of his home. Flashes of his sister's burning body, the sounds of his family's screams, the smell of burning wood and bodies... he broke into a PTSD attack: the first of many to come for the rest of his life. His friend was there to comfort him for the entire time, allowing him to take his time as he shook; crying and screaming. There they sat, an hour after he had stopped his attack, allowing him to stare at the house. Spenser grew with courage, and attempted to rummage through the house, due to the rain that would come the next day. He wanted what was left. His friend warned him that it might be best for him to wait, but he was reluctant, and wanted to be with his family.

    There was very little left, considering that most of the items they owned were flamable. What brought him at least a bit of joy were the few items he found that survived: a few of Kynithia's potion bottles that were not melted, one of a few of his mother's valued spoons, and a metal charm that was on Marin's blanket that was no more. He ended up taking his mother's favorite spoon, his older sister's nicest potion bottle, and and baby sister's charm. It took him some time to find anything of his fathers: that thing being, his sword. Spenser was preparing for the worst: assuming that it had been in such high temperatures that it would be warped and never the same as it once was. However deep within the ashes, he found the sword, surprisingly unscathed. It made no sense. He found his father heating it every now and then to make sure it was in tip-top shape, changing the shape of it at times. How could the sword act as if it had never touched a flame?

    Then a glistening gold and black caught his attention. It was a gauntlet, black with designs of gold, stuck within the burned remains of a bush. He walked over to pull it out for the blackened twigs, knowing the exact origins of the gauntlet: the Thalmor.

    It made sense. The fire was no natural flame. It was of magical origin... hence the blade's resistance to the fire itself. And the Thalmor... his parents were well-known for being one of the few families that were divided politically but still kept the peace. They had recieved passive threats from the Thalmor. From Spenser's point of view, it was simply because their unity could ruin their plans in Skyrim: this would later become the truth, as Spenser would find out. Enraged, he vowed to never let the Thalmor hurt anyone else... but he knew it would be foolish to go out and begin ridding the world of the Thalmor. He had no quarrel with the elves: in fact, the very friend that stayed with him during the time he was seeing his house in the aftermath was half-bosmer and half-high elf. But he knew the Thalmor's true intent...

    Instead, he vowed to protect those who need it from around Skyrim. He never wants others to suffer as he and his family did. Thus, as he grew up in the home of his friend, he continued to practice his swordsmanship and alchemy in honor of his family. When he came of age, he left his hometown, and began his life as a mercenary to help those in need.

    While his family named him after the God Stendarr for purposes unknown, it was true that the fate to aid others in need, give to the poor, to heal those who need healing, and to be kind and generous to all people, would follow Spenser: just as Stendarr would want him to do. And with the love of Mara and spiritual care of Kynareth, he would honor his family and live a life to help all have a better life of their own.

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  • Arthur Stoav [Royal Knight] Character Card Jul 23, 2017

    Devoted Loyal Protector

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    Name
    : Knight Arthur Stoav

    Nicknames: Artie
    Birth name: Arthur Graom Stoav III

    Race: Breton [100%]

    Gender: Male

    Age: 21

    Height: 5'10

    Weight: 165 lbs

    Sexuality: Heterosexual

    Laterality: Right Handed


    APPEARANCE


    Skin/Scale/Fur Color: Lightly Tanned

    Eyes: Grey

    Hair Color/Horns/Ears: Black

    Hair Style/Feathers: Short, slight curls, brushed to the side

    Build: Muscular but Lean

    Scars: A few on his arms, legs, and chest from training

    Tattoos: None

    Piercings: None

    Other: His face is not very expressive, unless he is very happy, surprised, angry, worried, etc.


    APPAREL

    Constant Wear: As the royally appointed knight, he is to almost always wear his armor unless he is sleeping and another guard is on duty.

    Casual Wear: [Refer to Constant]

    Armor: His armor is some of the finest in the land: it is meant to protect not just him, but to allow him to protect those he serves. Much like the royal battle garments, the armor is plated as silver and gold. On him he wears a red cape to signify his rank. The armor is adorned in royal designs so that when in political or fancy events, he can be presentable. He will usually take off layers of armor such as his helmet, shoulder guard, gauntlets, etc. to become more presentable in events, unless danger could potentially be involved.

    [​IMG]


    GEAR

    Weapons:

    To protect those he serves, he wields a royal guard sword and shield, created for the knights of such a rank.

    [​IMG]
    [​IMG]


    Magic (If applicable): He was a royally appointed knight trained in accordance with whom he may serve: most often, Breton royals use magic and lighter armor, so the knights are meant to take the heavy blows and be the wall between the enemy and those they protect. Thus, he only knows healing spells for emergency purposes.

    Other: He carries around emergency healing potions, food, and water.


    PERSONALITY AND VOICE

    Personality: He is a quiet fellow compared to most. He takes his duty as the royally appointed knight very seriously. He never truly speaks of his opinions, and wishes not to. While he may seem cold and emotionless, he is a very caring and protective person who can do anything he puts his mind to. He is very level-headed and rarely blows a fuse. He silently bears any burden that falls upon him, not wanting those he is protecting to worry about him. He is a man of honor and dignity, and is beyond selfless.

    Fighting Style: He is more defensive than offensive. He never rushes into battle: instead, he stays by Celica's side and protects her until the enemy draws too close. It is then that he will fight said enemy in close range, taking all the heavy blows. While he doesn't like Celica to fight, he usually says nothing, and allows her to use her magic from afar. When overwhelmed, he will do his best to keep an eye on her as she fights with her own blade.

    Habits:
    + Only speaking when spoken to
    + Standing beside Celica (of course, it is a duty.)
    + Checking his armor and weapon
    + Eyeing and observing everything in the surrounding area


    Voice: Prince Sidon - TLoZ: Breath of the Wild


    Likes:
    + Doing his job successfully
    + Sleeping, surprisingly
    + Food, but he doesn't overeat
    + Cooler days: hot sun overheats him, and the bitter cold will freeze him
    + Children
    + Reading History
    + Long baths


    Dislikes:
    + Enemies (Drauger, Bandits, assassins, thieves, trolls, etc.)
    + The Thalmor: He despises how arrogant and controlling they are of Tamriel
    + Upsetting Celica
    + Being hungry
    + A lack of sleep
    + Political Ignorance


    MISCELLANEOUS

    Affiliations: He is a knight of Evermore, and is the royally appointed knight of the Noble Princess Celica

    Afflictions/Fears:
    + Harm coming upon the royal family
    + Failing his duties
    + Losing his job

    Properties: He owns no properties, but lives within the castle due to his rank and duty

    Job: The retainer/royally appointed knight of Princess Celica. After years of training, he rose in the ranks. Soon Celica was old enough to be appointed a single knight instead of consistent switching ones. After watching many competitions of battles between the highly ranked knights, he came in second place. The top three were able to sit down with Celica for one evening each to converse with her personally. To the king and queen's surprise, Celica chose Arthur.

    Combat Skills: He is skills in heavy armor, smithing, blocking, one-handed, two handed, is skilled with a shield, and is skilled in restoration. He tried picking up the bow, but he wanted to perfect his swordsmanship instead.

    Other:
    + He is extremely protective of Celica, which begs rumors to flow through of an intimate relationship between the two. While the tales are assumed by most to be untrue, it is a fact that he cares deeply for the woman, and by his heart, it is struck. He is reluctant to open himself to her, knowing it could clash with his duties as a retainer. He feels he knows her best, due to being around her more than her own family and friends, but never speaks a word of it. Celica's own feelings towards him is left unsaid.


    HISTORY/BACKSTORY

    Arthur was in the long line of knights before him. He, his father, his grandfather, his grandfather's father, and so on. It ran through his blood, which easily allowed him to go up the ranks from his family's history. At a young age, his father already put him through training before most knights even began. He was skilled with the sword and shield, and soon enough had real ones in his hands. The first year he could begin training and attempt to join the knights and guards, he began.

    It did not take him long for him to persevere past the others. His patience, level-headedness, focus, respect, and determination were more than enough to push him higher. While some guards were jealous of his talents, others praised him. He had a few friends, but not many, due to his inexplicable desire to stay focused on his duties. Many taunted him and teased him, but they stopped due to his nature to never respond. It did, in fact, hurt him, but he took the burdens in silence.

    His father, a royal guard, died of a disease from his travels not too many years later. Arthur was not one to cry, but he certainly did when he lost his father. His mother was too upset, but tried her best to ease her son's pain. At the age of thirteen, he was able to meet Princess Celica for the first time. She was wearing a red dress, preparing a speech for the next political meeting. He was a knight at the time, but none of high ranking. However, because of his and others' success, they were to meet Celica to discuss tactics and suggestions. Him, being silent, did not offer much to say. "I see I see... I will let the general know of this, then. I will not mention you spoke of this, so no repercussions come to you, alright?" Her voice was sweet to the knight standing beside Arthur, smiling of reassurance. Compared to most royalty, she was far kinder, but honest when need be.

    Arthur's own eyes caught Celica's before he averted them away, not moving in any other way. "If you have something to say, do not be afraid to speak your mind to anyone." It was her first words to him, which he finally looked up to her, and nodded his head, his face filled with apathy. "Of course, princess."

    Rare meetings occurred every so often due to Arthur's rise in the ranks. At the age of sixteen, Celica was to choose a retainer to be by her side. Arthur's hard work was filled with his determination to be the best knight he could. He simply wanted to make his father proud. While he did come second in the tournament, it was his personality during the private conversation that won him over to Celica.

    "You never speak much, do you?" Her voice was filled with curiosity as she took a sip of tea. "No, princess." "Why not?" There was a long pause, leaving Celica on a cliff-hanger. "I see. You are trying to formulate a response, but unsure what I will like to hear, correct?" While she was still young, and made mistakes, she was quite mature and wise; same as Arthur. However, he was taken aback by the statement, his eyes meeting hers once again. A smile rose to the clever girl's lips as she took another sip of tea. She placed it down on the saucer, then the table, and locked eyes with the knight in front of her across from the coffee table. "Please. Tell me: why do not speak your mind? Do not be afraid to upset me. A knight must create sturdy protective wall, but he also must have the heart to build it when broken. A knight without a voice is a mere dwemer machine... so please... for me, speak your mind."

    His eyes lowered, staring at the knightly boots he wore. There was a long pause, but Celica did not remove her eyes from him, and Arthur could feel her soft but curious gaze. Mustering up the courage, he raised his head and looked the princess in the eyes, speaking his mind; for once. "I will silently bear any burden, so that those I protect will not fear for me, and they will live in peace. When there is evil to worry about, there is no need to dwindle on my well-being. Those I protect I not only protect physically but mentally. To let them know I am injured or upset can worry them for my well being and their own. Staying silent, while detrimental to myself, will place those I protect at ease. I do not mind, as no matter the pain I endure, knowing those I protect are safe, brings me the reassurance I need to continue onward."

    A deafening silence filled the room. Arthur and Celica still locked gazes, neither moving. It was a long pause, before Celica finally spoke, closing her eyes. "I do not believe you can be a knight anymore, Arthur." Her voice was calm, her eyes still closed. Arthur felt as if the world was simply crumbling around him. To speak only once and to have it ruin all... "Of course. I understand. I will take my leave, Princess. Thank you for your time. I enjoyed it." Raising from his seat, he stood, and turned around.

    However, a grab of the hand left his eyes wide open, and his cheeks slightly flushed. "Where are you going?" "A-Away, Princess. I-I mean, I am taking my leave. I understand what you said." "Turn around, silly." Slowly, Arthur turned around, meeting the smile of the princess who still held his hand. He felt his other be grabbed, a smile still present on her face. "No one is ever honest to me. They say what they must to make me happy, and it makes me sad. I am glad to hear you speak such words. It takes true courage to break such a demeanor: especially from you." All the knight could do was stare at the girl in front of him, utterly speechless. "Thank you. For your honesty. With that... I want to appoint you as my knight."

    A wave of overwhelming excitement befell the male: but he did not show it. Rather, a small smile escaped from his lips, still looking to the princess. "Really?" A laugh tumbled from the girl's mouth, a smile still present as she raised his hands slightly and lowered them to straighten them. "A smile! Yes! Of course! Under one condition: please be honest with me? At least once a day? Tell me your thoughts." A chuckle also escaped the usually expressionless male, a smile still on his face. "Of course. Yes... thank you princess. I will forever vow to serve you, dedicating my life to you."

    The years went on, the two becoming closer. He usually stayed silent, while Celica would push him on until he would speak his mind every day. Of course, her constant care for him couldn't help but make him slip a smile every now and then, watching her usually unseen antics behind the scenes as a royal. During the Battle of the Red, he blamed himself for the loss of Celica's mother. He stated that if he were there to protect Celica, her mother wouldn't have needed to take the final blow. Of course, only an hour prior had he almost been fatally wounded by a sword and a poisoned arrow. It left him disoriented and unable to barely walk. Both Celica and Arthur blamed themselves, only to tell each other that one is not to blame.

    As the years went on, Arthur became far more serious, cold, and protective over Celica. As her father weakened, he found it more necessary than ever to protect her on her political travels. As he said, he would vow his life to her, and if he must sacrifice himself for the royal family, then so be it.

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  • Faye & Aldon [Sibling Archer and Warrior] Double Character Card Apr 15, 2017

    Destined Inseparable Siblings

    __________________________________________________________________
    The following characters are a Double Character Card: They must be role played together.
    This is included if a quest occurs.

    __________________________________________________________________

    A Timid Heart

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    Name
    : Faye Malenddal

    Nicknames: Sister and Rose
    Birth name: Faye Rosalind (Rose) Malenddal

    Race: Bosmer [75%] and Nord [25%]

    Gender: Female

    Age: 13 Years

    Height: 5'2

    Weight: 110 lbs.

    Sexuality: Heterosexual

    Laterality: Right-Handed

    APPEARANCE


    Skin/Scale/Fur Color: Light Tan/Yellow tint

    Eyes: Hazel

    Hair Color/Horns/Ears: Brunette

    Hair Style/Feathers: Light waves, semi-long, part down the middle. Her hair is usually kept in a short ponytail or braid, with a braid atop or on the side of her head.

    Build: Short, slender, but lean

    Scars: A scattered few barely visible on her fingers from bow training as a child.

    Tattoos: None

    Piercings: Ears [One on each lobe]

    Other: She is very rarely seen without a flower somewhere in her hair.


    APPAREL

    Constant Wear: To stay hidden in the forest, yet stay her cute self, she wears brown pants, a green sleeveless shirt, basic earrings, brown cuffs, a flower placed somewhere, leather boots, a brown satchel, a hood, and a cloth belt.

    Casual Wear: [Reference Constant]

    Armor: Because of her non-combat initiatives, she doesn't have much armor other than the clothes she wears.


    GEAR

    Weapons:
    Saving money for almost her entire childhood, Faye was able to upgrade from a Hunting Bow given to her by her father to a Glass Bow which she purchased. She most often uses steel arrows for hunting, but in the recent years, her brother has given her dwarven, ebony and even glass arrows. She is to save them for emergencies, of course, but she loves them dearly. She also carries a Dwarven Dagger her brother found. He never told her where he found it, though.

    [​IMG]



    Magic (If applicable): She knows no magic, except for a basic alteration (candelight/magelight) and healing spell. She wishes to learn more about restoration, but cannot afford the books to learn. She does however, know a little about how to control and communicate with animals, as well as plants.

    Other: She is always carrying a map, a small telescope, some food and water, and a few healing potions for an emergency.


    PERSONALITY AND VOICE

    Personality: A timid heart takes its toll on the young girl. Filled with youth, Faye is always willing to test her limits, but warily. Alone, or with her friends, she is a playful and curious girl, being silly and having fun. Her kindness to animals is extended through her interactions with them, as she treats them almost as people. Her respect for nature is beyond most, as she feels a certain connection with Nirn that makes her almost at peace. Her curiosity to the world is both a blessing and a curse. She can easily get into accidental trouble, which she always regrets. In public, and with strangers, and sometimes friends, she is very shy and wary. She presents herself as a quiet girl, often clinging to her older brother or hiding.

    Fighting Style: She is not a fighter, but rather a glass cannon who can hit heavily but must retreat to safety. She heavily relies on her brother if in combat, as she cannot bare to take the life of a person. To protect the life of her town and people she loves, though, she will do what she must. She is stealthy, and is as silent as a Khajiit. Using nature to her advantage, she blends with her surroundings, and will sneak attack from a range. Often with bandits, she shoots them down to not kill them, but to stop them from getting any further: an arrow to the knee, so to say. They are not dead, but they may never fight the same again. At that point, a small group of bandits will usually retreat.

    Habits:

    + Stammering, if nervous
    + Wandering
    + Fine-tuning her bow
    + Collecting ingredients wherever she goes, sometimes unintentionally
    + Clinging to her brother


    Voice: Tara Strong: Rikku, Final Fantasy X

    Likes:
    + Nature/Animals
    + Exploring
    + Collecting Things
    + Practicing her archery
    + Being with her Brother
    + Gardening

    Dislikes:
    + War, Bloodshed, Battle, Death, Enemies, etc. related.
    + Animal/Nature Cruelty
    + Hurting people
    + Although she respects them, she heavily dislikes wild animals that can harm her (ie:wolves)
    + The Undead / Supernatural

    MISCELLANEOUS

    Affiliations: None

    Afflictions/Fears:
    + Losing her Brother
    + The Undead
    + The Supernatural / Paranormal
    + Caves / Mines


    Properties: A house and farm in Shor's Stone
    Her parents purchased the land and home before the two of them were born. Her half Nord half Bosmer father had the funds to purchase land there and it was enough for her full Bosmer mother to stay in Skyrim. The family would farm crops and care for animals, as well as go hunting. While the miners mined, the farmers farmed.

    Job: She hunts for food in the surrounding forest when need be. However, she spends time helping her brother with the farm. She also sells potions and poisons as an alchemist, and is very good at alchemy.

    Combat Skills:
    Stealth and patience are the key to her success. Being so small and lightweight, she is as stealthy as a thieving Khajiit. Her aim of the bow is unmatched: she rarely misses moving shots, and never misses an unmoving target. Learning at such a young age she became extremely talented. With her keen eyesight, patience, stealth, precision, and accuracy, she is the perfect archer. With hit-and-run tactics, she will defend herself when needed. While she hopes never to take the life of another, she will disable enemies from attacking... perhaps for the rest of their life.

    Other:
    + While she may be thirteen, she is still a child, and would be unable to survive without her brother.
    + She has a love for Nirn unlike most: she loves the animals, plants, and elements. According to her brother, as a little one, she ran into a Spriggon, touched it, and it did not attack her, but rather watched her play. Her brother will always state how connected to nature she is.
    + Heavily worships Y'ffre, the Bosmer god of the forest. She believes her parents are part of Nirn's nature, awaiting to be reincarnated. She also always prays before she hunts, and makes sure to kill all animals swiftly so they do not have to suffer. She prays afterwards that their souls are at peace.

    HISTORY/BACKSTORY

    As second born, Faye would become the youngest in the Malenddal family. Her brother, Aldon, was very happy to meet his baby sister. He cared for her when he was too young to farm but old enough to keep her safe. As she grew up, they would often play together. Whether it be tag, exploring, talking to the townsfolk, they always seemed to be together. Their mother often joked saying that "They act as if they are twins."

    However, they had their differences. With Faye being the youngest, she was often babied, and grew up to not take pain well. She learned to be very dependent on others, despite her wish to be courageous. Aldon, growing up protecting Faye, continued to do so. He matured faster, held more responsibilities, and burdened himself with protecting Faye.

    Faye grew to be much like her mother. While she had more of her father's looks, she had more of her mother's personality. She was curious, sweet, connected to nature, spiritual, and a talented alchemist. While her mother was not the greatest archer, she decided to teach Faye at a very young age. To both her parent's surprise, she was absolutely astonishing with a bow. She quickly learned how to shoot from far distances, and even hit moving targets. She was a talented hunter, despite disliking hurting any living creature. However, she knew what she could and could not do, and prayed when need be.

    As she progressively became better with archery, sneaking, and alchemy, as well as her brother becoming talented in his own right, things took a turn for the worst when she was ten years old, and her brother, fifteen.

    While Aldon tended to the farm one evening, Faye was playing in the woods nearby. Aldon could see her from where he stood. Their parents were also in eyesight: their father hunting for deer, and their mother picking ingredients. The sun had set, and only the light that still lingered in the sky lit the land. As they continued about their business, their mother let out a terrifying scream. Catching the family's attention, it was a sign that her life would soon end. Their father went after her, their mother leaving the children's sight. Shouts from Aldon demanded that Faye went in the house. Frozen in fear, Faye did not budge. Once again, Aldon shouted, more forcefully, as he shoved her aside to break her from her frozen stance as he ran passed her. Finally, she ran into the house alone, cowering in fear as she cried.

    She never saw her parents again. Not their bodies. Nothing, except a few arrows from their father and a few flowers from their mother from their duties in the forest. The girl ended up pressing a flower in a book that was her mother's, and plucking a feather from her father's bow. She placed both flattened items in a book of Y'ffre. Faye did not understand her parent's disappearance, and her brother did not tell her what truly happened. He simply said that he did not know where they went. Because of this, Faye believed ghosts or demons or the undead took them away... the supernatural was unknown, so in her mind, with their unknown disappearance, she connected the two as a ten year old. She became ever so frightened of the paranormal, undead, etc. from that point forward. She assumed they came from the dark scary mines, and would never step foot in their.

    Aldon became the owner of the home by birthright, and continued their family's work with the farm. He made Faye work every day alongside him to make it. They did very well, and with only the two of them, had more gold than they imagined. For the next three years, Aldon's play faded to Faye as he became serious, cold, and distant. However, he was always there for Faye, and always softens around her the moment she is beside him. Faye continued to lighten the moods, trying to make him happy as much as she could. Faye continued her hunting, archery, and alchemy, and ended up making money off of her potions.

    While her brother became almost guard-like in the town, fending off the multiple bandits, Faye did her part by disabling massive groups of bandits and other baddies who attempted to overwhelm the town. While it upset her to hurt others, she knew she was doing good by driving them away. She continued to be the light of Aldon's world, bringing him down to Nirn, calming him with nature, her optimism, and her love for almost everything. While she grew to be a shy girl, clinging to him often, she was happy to feel as if she had her own duty of protecting Aldon: protecting him from himself. Because to her, her brother was the most important thing in her life.

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    Biography of the Malenddal Family:

    The family grew up in the small town of Shor's Stone. With no large farm there, her father, a half-Nord and half-Bosmer, decided to purchase a property before his future wife would give birth to their children.

    Her father was a mere miner, trying to make enough septims to scrape by. He looked like a feeble Bosmer, but hearty Nordic blood ran through his veins, making him grow among the ranks rather quickly within the mining group. One day within the Inn, a traveling alchemist entered for a rest. The moment he laid eyes on her, he spoke that the Divines stopped time for him to watch her gracefully enter the Inn, her beauty and all. He would joke to his children about how smitten he was with their mother at first sight, making Faye ooh and ahh while Aldon would make a disgusted grimace.

    While the alchemist stayed the night, their father constantly tried to make the woman happy. He picked flowers for her and gave them to her in the morning. He paid for her meals and pulled out her chairs for her. He would hold the door open for the woman, giving her an ear for listening. Their mother would speak of how much he truly annoyed her at first. He was always... there. However, she gave him a chance that afternoon, and he created a splendid picnic out in the woods.

    As the story is told, their father was able to get their mother to stay in the Inn by paying for her rooming, as he lived in the Inn as well. This continued on for days, weeks, even months. She would travel, but return by the end of the day. At some points, their father would travel with he to protect her as she went farther to sell her potions and poisons. More months passed, before the fully-Bosmer woman stated that while she loved the time she had spent with him, and adored him greatly, she needed to return to Valenwood.

    Displeased, their father declared that if she were to give him one more month, he would prepare something so great, she would never want to leave. With her curiosity peaked, the woman allowed the plan to occur. For a month, their father spent less time with their mother, and more time working. He continued to work, until he secretly bought a town's house and a bunch of land. He continued to buy animals, crops, and tend to them slowly and secretly. At one point, the alchemist even admitted she was confused by the new neighbors and how she had yet to see them.

    Finally, with the last day, their father blindfolded the alchemist, bringing her in front of the surprise. Unveiling her eyes, he grinned in front of her, bringing her forward. At first, the woman was discombobulated, until he revealed the key.

    Two years later, they gave birth to their first child, Aldon. A few years later, their second child, Faye. The farm was a success, and the crops and animals stayed healthy, bringing in far more profit than the mines. The Malenddal family was one of happiness.
    __________________________________________________________________

    A Tough Heart

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    Name
    : Aldon Malenddal

    Nicknames: Allie and Al
    Birth name: Aldon Leo Malenddal

    Race: 75% Bosmer 25% Nord

    Gender: Male

    Age: 18 years

    Height: 5'10

    Weight: 160

    Sexuality: Heterosexual

    Laterality: Right-Handed


    APPEARANCE


    Skin/Scale/Fur Color: Light Tan

    Eyes: Chestnut Brown

    Hair Color/Horns/Ears: Blond

    Hair Style/Feathers: It is semi-long, and often kept down. However, it can be found put up in a ponytail.

    Build: Muscular and lean

    Scars: A few on his arms from sword practice.

    Tattoos: None

    Piercings: None

    Other: -


    APPAREL

    Constant Wear: He is usually patrolling the village, which leads him to wear his armor constantly. However he can be found wearing a light tan tunic and dark brown pants with boots when farming, tending to the animals, and other labor. It is something that will protect his skin but keep him from the heat or snow.

    Casual Wear: He only wears something casual in the house, but it usually whatever he was last wearing. If it is something casual, it is mostly his tan tunic and brown pants with leather boots. [Constant wear]

    Armor: To protect the village, his farm, and his sister, when not working in the farm, he is wearing his armor. It is a thick brown leather that has metal plated on the inside: it can trick many bandits who believe it to be mere penetrable leather. However, it is a lightweight cheap metal that is not in every place under his armor, as he cannot afford chained armor or any fancy thick metals. But with layers of leather, cloth, and metal, his armor is very sturdy and reliable.


    GEAR

    Weapons:
    Their family, without their parents, does not have a lot of money to begin with. However, without the need for more food and clothing for their parents, but with more hard work, they are able to make more money than they did before. While Faye had saved up for her bow, he would often purchase special arrows for her to keep her safe and let her aid him in the protection of the village. He saved up enough for himself to purchase a glass sword and an elven shield.
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    Magic (If applicable): He knows no magic whatsoever. Unlike his sister, he grew to be more Nordic than Bosmer in skills, and has forgotten how to truly connect with nature like she. However, if he did try, he most likely could regain the Bosmer magic of the forest.

    Other: With him he carries a map, water, food, and a few healing potions his sister makes for emergencies.


    PERSONALITY AND VOICE

    Personality: Aldon was once the same as his sister: lighthearted, fun-loving, and peaceful. Ever since the incident of their parents, he became cold, distant, serious, unrelenting, and focused. He let his spiritualism fade as his physical strength took over. His expressions of emotions became almost nothing at all, which intimidates many who once considered him a close friend. He burdens himself with responsibilities, such as protecting Faye always, protecting the town from bandits, and making sure he and his sister will have a peaceful life. He grew to have quite the temper, and often lashes out for it. His father's Nordic blood can be to blame... despite only having 25%. However, around his sister, he can quickly calm. His sister often is the one to calm him down when stressed or angered, and is the only person left who can make him smile. He will always protect her, and despite being annoyed at times by her shy clinginess, he will obliterate anyone who dares hurt her in any way, and allows her to be by his side almost always.

    Fighting Style: Unlike his heavy Bosmer heritage, he is heavily involved with the Nordic fighting style. He wields a blade and shield to block and attack when need be. Travelers are often surprised to see a Bosmer so guard-like, but with the responsibilities he forces himself to have, it is no wonder he would chose such a fighting style. He will intimidate when need be, and take out whoever is in his way, or threatens his way of life, or Faye's. He is agile and quick, thanks to his Bosmer heritage, but is strong with his one-handed sword. Blocking effectively easily helps him disable the foe enough to give a final blow. Faye often helps disable them as well, while he ends them if need be.

    Habits:

    + Making sure Faye is by his side, somewhere near, or safe elsewhere
    + Sighing, at times, for no reason. Simply out of habit.
    + Pushing himself far too hard: he's known to collapse from his efforts, which Faye cares for him. He is usually angry at himself for leaving Faye to help him.
    + Becoming embarrassed when Faye reveals too much about him
    + Sharpening his blade

    Voice: Leon - Fire Emblem Fates: Conquest

    Likes:
    + While he won't admit it, being with his sister.
    + Farming
    + Protecting the village
    + Ridding the area of bandits
    + Dogs
    + Mead
    + Exploring


    Dislikes:
    + Making Faye upset or her being upset in general
    + Ill farm animals or lack in crops for harvest
    + Bad weather
    + Bandits, enemies, thieves, assassins, trolls, anyone or anything who could bring harm to the town, really.
    + Leeks
    + Racists


    MISCELLANEOUS

    Affiliations: None

    Afflictions/Fears:
    + Losing his sister, Faye


    Properties: A house and farm in Shor's Stone
    His parents purchased the land and home before the two of them were born. His half Nord half Bosmer father had the funds to purchase land there and it was enough for his full Bosmer mother to stay in Skyrim. The family would farm crops and care for animals, as well as go hunting. While the miners mined, the farmers farmed.

    Job: He tends to the animals and crops of the family's farm. When not farming, he joins the guards, despite their refusal to let him become one, and protects the town. He is known to do his job as a guard better than the actual guards, which make the citizens of the small village praise him.

    Combat Skills: When it is time to battle, he battles like a Nord. Fierce and unrelenting, he goes into battle with armor, shield, and blade. He will put an end to fighting: war to end war. He truly wants peace, but will break it to protect it. He rushes into battle to fight honorably.

    Other:
    + He claims to be not religious, unlike his sister, but in secret, he prays to Y'ffre when he feels the need to.
    + Despite the harshness he displays to others in public, including his sister, when alone with her, he is very kind to her.
    + He is over-protective of things and people he cares for.
    + His sister is the reason he works so hard every day.


    HISTORY/BACKSTORY

    As first born, Aldon would become the oldest in the Malenddal family. His sister, Faye, would come a few years later. When she arrived, he cared for her when he was too young to farm but old enough to keep her safe. As he grew up, they would often play together. Whether it be tag, exploring, talking to the townsfolk, they always seemed to be together. Their mother often joked saying that "They act as if they are twins."

    However, they had their differences. With Aldon being the eldest, he grew up protecting Faye and continued to do so. He matured faster, held more responsibilities, and burdened himself with protecting Faye. Faye being the youngest, was often babied, and grew up to not take pain well. She learned to be very dependent on others, despite her wish to be courageous.

    Aldon grew to be much like his father. While he had more of his mother's looks, he had more of his father;s personality. He was courageous, strong, caring, protective, and a talented farmer. While his father was not the greatest swordsman, he decided to teach Aldon at a very young age. To both his parent's surprise, he was amazing with the sword. He was quick to learn tricks and tips, and easily became a very talented swordsman. While he may not have been astonishing like his sister with the bow, he was astonishing when it came to caring for farm, and his balance between farming and swordsmanship was unparalleled. His work and effort to both was incredible, which allowed him to be an amazing swordsman and farmer.

    As he progressively became better with the blade and farming, as well as his sister becoming talented in her own right, things took a turn for the worst when he was fifteen years old, and his sister, ten.

    While Aldon tended to the farm one evening, Faye was playing in the woods nearby. Aldon could see her from where he stood. Their parents were also in eyesight: their father hunting for deer, and their mother picking ingredients. The sun had set, and only the light that still lingered in the sky lit the land. As they continued about their business, their mother let out a terrifying scream. Catching the family's attention, it was a sign that her life would soon end. Their father went after her, their mother leaving the children's sight. Shouts from Aldon demanded that Faye went in the house. Frozen in fear, Faye did not budge. Once again, Aldon shouted, more forcefully, as he shoved her aside to break her from her frozen stance as he ran passed her. Finally, she ran into the house alone, cowering in fear as she cried.

    Aldon himself rushed to his mother and father, a blade in-hand, to see what troubled them. From there he saw the terror. A small group of bandits. Two had already pinned down his father, making him watch the terror of his mother as she was held down, and raped by the others. They took turns, holding her down and raping her as his father watched in terror, unable to do anything. Their pleasure was the family's terror. As it continued on, Aldon was preparing himself to slaughter them all. He was beyond angered, and was ready to send them to Oblivion. However, his mother caught his eyes, the two meeting one another. She was sad, scared, and hurt. However, there was a sparkle in her eyes: a sign of care, and love, that Aldon always seemed to find whenever she was near her children. She slowly closed her eyes, before opening them again to meet him. She wanted him to go.

    He never saw his parents again. Not their bodies. Nothing, except a few arrows from their father and a few flowers from their mother from their duties in the forest. His sister ended up pressing a flower in a book that was her mother's, and plucking a feather from her father's bow. She placed both flattened items in a book of Y'ffre. Faye did not understand her parent's disappearance, while her brother knew very well what had happened. He knew she was too young to know the truth, and did not tell her the truth. He simply said that he did not know where they went. Because of this, Faye grew to have a fear of the supernatural. He himself, grew to have a fear of anyone hurting his sister like they hurt his mother and father.

    Aldon became the owner of the home by birthright, and continued their family's work with the farm. He made Faye work every day alongside him to make it by. They did very well, and with only the two of them, had more gold than they imagined. For the next three years, Aldon's play faded to Faye as he became serious, cold, and distant. However, he was always there for Faye, and always softened around her the moment she is beside him. Faye continued to lighten the moods, trying to make him happy as much as she could. Aldon continued the farming, guarding, and practicing his swordsmanship.

    While his sister disabled groups of bandits, helped him farm, hunted, and sold potions, Aldon did his part by slaughtering any danger to the town or Faye, all while letting the farm flourish. While he became distant on purpose, as he did not want his sister or the others to see his suffering, he knew he would need to bear any burden in silence. While he was cold and harsh, his sister would bring him the warm light he needed to move forward. He acted as if he was protecting her all the time, but knew very well that Faye was protecting him as well. He would never stop to protect her, until she was old enough and had a husband to protect her as well. Of course, if he would let any man get near her. But that was his thoughts for the future. In the present, he would care for her and protect her, trying his best to make her enjoy the life she has.

    TEXT COLOR

    __________________________________________________________________

    QUEST:

    .~~|+|~IN SEARCH OF WARMTH~|+|~~.
    The Inn Keeper has told me of a local girl gone missing. I walked outside to find a Bosmer arguing with the guards and miners about finding the missing girl, his sister, in the mines. I am to help him clear the mine of whatever dangers are inside and rescue his sister.

    O Find Faye and lead her to safety

    O Clear the mine of drauger and bandits

    O Speak with Aldon


    __________________________________________________________________
    Specter of Death likes this.
  • Princess Celica Alabora [Royalty] Character Card Mar 24, 2017

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    The Tactical Princess

    "A heart of gold with a fiery passion, that one has. She's the beacon of light Tamriel needs these days."
    - King Dimitri Alabora


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    Name:
    Noble Princess Celica Alabora

    Race:
    Breton [100%]

    Gender:
    Female

    Age:
    22 Years

    Height:
    5'6 ft.

    Weight:
    125 lbs

    Sexuality:
    Heterosexual

    Laterality:
    Right Handed

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    APPEARANCE

    Body:

    As a royal of Evermore, it is no surprise that Celica is a beautiful woman naturally. Pure fair skin of a Breton shines in the sun with her black-brown hair falling past her shoulders as a slightly waving stream down a mountain. She hosts a slim build at quick glance, but she has the strength of a lean body. Due to her attire, she merely appears frail, but another look past her armor one can see the muscles that rise above her skin.

    Her eyes are an earthy hazel that reflect the lands she so desires to protect from the filth of the shadows. With her face the shape of her courageous heart, her cheekbones a slightly defined to accentuate her delicate yet fierce features. Full lips rarely purse in the midst of conversation with their pinkish hue. At a height of 5'6 and weighing 135 lbs, she is not only a curved statue to admire but a warrior of strength. With the help of her slight vanity, it only adds to her making sure she looks her best; at least, before battle. During is another story.


    APPAREL

    Royal Attire:
    Her usual royal attire is a flowing white dress that is tight at the top and flows downward with the ends reflecting a light red translucent design. She wears a red overtop that hangs in the back almost cape-like and over her arms. It adorns gold ends, tassels, and small charms. On her arms, back, and chest, gold thin "armor" curls and intertwines around her body, securing her skin and dress. On those gold designs lilac hues of fabric link the curls together as well as amethyst crystals. She wears golden sandals that wrap upward right below her knees. Other than her gold, red, and lilac jewelry, her golden tiara adorns the top of her divine head as a statement of her authority.

    Casual Wear:
    She wears a fine silk red dress when staying within the castle. If she leaves though, depending on what she is doing, she wears her royal attire or her armor.

    Armor:
    If she knows she is going into battle - which is usually against her father's demands - or traveling abroad not for royal ceremony, she wears light royal armor designed of silver and gold and a strong and durable metal. Underneath is red protective cheongsam top with gold embroidery, and similar bottoms. Her hair is let loose, and she replaces her normal tiara with a silver and gold circlet with an amethyst crystal, which is to distinguish herself from the rest of her army. And of course, her red cape.

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    GEAR

    Weapons:
    Because of her Breton heritage, magic is her true weapon. She never initiates attack unless provoked, to which she will defend herself. Her guards are her main weapons in surprise attacks, but if they are taken down or she initiates combat, she will stop the enemy. However, she is a spellsword: she uses both magic and weaponry. She owns a royal sword that she royally trained with. She is no damsel in distress, and isn't afraid to defend her kingdom.

    Passed down from generation to generation, a sword bearing the name Terschion is given to the ruler of each kingdom, or the strongest asset of the royal family. Her father wielded the blade for quite some time, before he was injured in battle to permanently disable him from combat. In a ceremony, Celica was blessed with the blade as her rightful weapon in combat. While most of the royal family uses magic for distant attacks safe from range, a royal is not considered completely worthy until the enemy is slain with not magic, but with a royal weapon.

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    Magic:
    With her Breton heritage, she has acclaimed talent for performing the arcane arts. She has a fair balance over all schools, hoping to someday master at least one. Her main schools which she is closest to mastering are restoration and destruction. When one says 'close to mastering', it means she is merely one battle away from unlocking her full potential in the school. Often she would heal random people of her kingdom if in need for nothing in return but a thanks. Destruction is more often used in battle or sparring, so restoration she is more often seen using, as she never trains in the presence of others, except partners.

    Other:
    Beauty products are a must for the princess to carry around; a flaw of her personality, but one of the few. She will carry around a fictional book to keep her busy on her travels, as well as her personal diary. A map, compass, and various potions are a must for the woman as well. A bottle of water and a snack are never not with her either.

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    PERSONALITY AND VOICE

    Personality:
    As a woman of honor, she yearns for peace, but is not afraid to stand up for what is right. Her heart is one of gold, but she never allows that to get the best of her when it comes to her duties. Rather, she embraces her kindness and uses it for the greater good. While kind, Celica will not back down against foes, and if needed, will not show mercy. At times she may have a bit of a temper that flares when her plans or ideas fail, but she does not let her fury falter her thoughts. She is extremely intellectual, and it is often looked over by her father. Her determination, passion, and courage stands with her, following as an army of change. As an introvert, it takes time for her to open up personally with others, despite being so friendly. A heavenly charisma allows her to be a very likable person: thus, she gains allies rather quickly despite not sharing personal information.

    Many mistake her for being serious far too often; this may be due to her 'resting bitch face' she unintentionally shares when in deep thought. Although her face is initially intimidating, with a mere start of a conversation, a bright smile will come forward to greet anyone. Her mother would say she takes her father's stubbornness, but with her mother's patience she knows when she must step aside. She holds a seventh deadly sin of Vanity, so she often feels the need to look beautiful, as well as have other things be beautiful. Anyone who confronts her about being obsessed with her appearance due to her impressions on others she will become immediately hostile to; only because it is true. However, despite her flaw of vanity, she will not let it get in the way of battle. If she must be blood-torn in battle with mud in all places where skin shows, so be it.

    Fighting Style:
    If in combat, she is the perfect spellsword: her skills in magicka are strong, as well as her capabilities with a blade. Magicka for range, sword for close combat. She has not much stealth, so running away and sneaking successfully is not an option. When in combat with her blade, she usually does not run out of stamina as she uses magicka as well, which in turn, allows her stamina to rise so she may switch to the blade and wait for her magicka to rise. This eliminates the enemy faster. She is certainly no damsel in distress, which she believes every royal should be able to defend themselves. If a royal cannot defend themselves, she believes they are not worthy to carry a kingdom.

    Habits:
    + Biting her lip when thinking, along with an intimidating facial expression.
    + Making conversation with strangers/being too friendly unintentionally
    + Acting upon vanity

    Voice:
    Lucina - Fire Emblem: Awakening, Laura Bailey


    Likes:
    + Reading
    + Nature
    + Oceans
    + Painting
    + Wealth
    + Beauty

    Dislikes:
    + Illness/Poison
    + Ugliness (of herself)
    + Failure
    + Dislike (Towards Her)
    + Falmer, Werewolves, Spiders, Vampires, Giants, Bandits, Thalmor, Assassins, Thieves, Criminals, Spies, and Traitors... basic enemies.
    + Especially the Thalmor... must be said twice.
    + Power-Hungry / Selfish Individuals... who are usually arrogant.


    MISCELLANEOUS

    Affiliations:
    Princess of Evermore

    Afflictions/Fears:
    + Losing her father; he is the last relative alive that she fully trusts.
    + Failing her kingdom
    + Unit Deaths; even if she did not know the soldiers' names, she morns the losses. Not only for herself, but for the families of the soldiers. She hopes to treat every member of Evermore with kindness and love.
    + Aging quickly; for vanity matters.


    Properties:
    Castle of Evermore

    Job:
    Government Politics (Princess) and Military Tactician

    Combat Skills:
    She is extremely efficient in combat, as she was trained by the best of the best in the land. While her magicka is not mastered - as it takes years of knowledge and training - her swordsmanship is one of the strongest. She balances her attacks with magic and blade. When her magicka falls, she waits for it to return by fighting with her blade. When her stamina falls, she waits for it to return by fighting with magic. It is a balance that allows many enemies to falter to. She is a royal trained to fight: while she may avoid it, there are times where she will defeat the enemy herself.

    Other:
    + She blames herself for her mother's death. Ever since that day she forces herself to bear the burden of her passing, despite her father's words. She swore on her life that she would protect her father for the rest of his life. While her father can defend himself, they both know he cannot battle as he used to. This makes her very protective of her father. Many say that day was the day she lost her childhood, and became more serious than ever.
    + She takes many situations seriously, but every now and then, can give a joke or laugh. Deep down, she is very sweet and kind. To those she cares and knows well, including the peasants of the kingdom, she is warm and sweet to. Outside of her kingdom's borders, she is cold.
    + Beauty is important to her. It never truly was, until the passing of her mother. No one truly knows why, but she can be vain at times when it comes to appearances. She indulges in beauty products. However, she does not let her desire falter her in the battlefield. If she must be blood-ridden and mud-scuffed for days without a bath or sight of a hair brush, so be it.
    + She fell in love with a knight of her army whose courage and passion could challenge her own. However, he left the kingdom in search for his long lost sister. She still longs for the day to see the man once more, or meet someone like him.
    + She is extremely talented in tactical matters, which is why she is the tactician for her army. She became tactician after the Battle of the Red, when the tactician was killed, and she lead the armies during the Battle of the Red.
    + She cares heavily for her personal appointed guard, Arthur, more than a lord should. She is unaware of his feelings towards her, but she cares for his safety. Her care stems from how they became acquainted and she appointed him as her personal guard, as well as how he is always there for her.

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    HISTORY

    Celica had always been a beacon of light for the kingdom of Evermore. Blessed with intelligence and heart, Celica was a force to be reckoned with at a very young age. She was a curious one: often learning concepts faster than the children of her age. Her wisdom also exceeded many; more than some adults, even. An old soul, as her mother reminisced. At the ripe age of five, she began her regal training of the sword and of magic. Her father: a worthy swordsman, trained her the best he could. Her mother: a worthy mage, trained her the best she could. Between training she attended to political matters, prayers, and perhaps leisure time if time permitted. She was introduced to battles early in age, at around the age of ten years. As she grew, she learned more from the tactical side, and became a great balance of a fighter and a leader for battle... and a leader of the peoples' hearts.


    Celica first revealed a fraction of her tactical prowess during an infamous battle between a rivaling foe at the age of thirteen. A spy assassinated their top tactician, leaving the soldiers left with only past guidance. Stepping up, the princess escaped the safety of the castle before giving orders. At first, the soldiers were reluctant to follow the lead of a child. Despite their wariness, they found they had no choice but to accept her as a temporary guide. The battle was quickly completed, just as easily as the original tactician would have done. Her father, despite being angered by her escape, was pleased by her heroism.

    Over time, Celica developed her intellect, strength, beauty, spiritualism, and wisdom. She became an apprentice tactician for her kingdom's battles, which pleased the people greatly: including her mother and father. She was a busy bee: between prayers, combat training, and tactics training, she had barely a moment to herself. This she did not mind, though.

    At the age of seventeen, on a foggy evening, the haze brought upon a feeling of chills and darkness. The fog lingered with a sense of evil that Celica could not rid her mind of. She warned her father and mother, but they simply ignored her warnings of distress and prophecy. That night, Celica had a terrifying nightmare: one of which she would never forget. A dark swirl of nothingness engulfed the kingdom as she ran for her life. The dark fog continued to chase her, leaving her screaming for help as it swallowed everything in its path. In front of her was a light calling out to her. It spoke: "Let your soul guide you towards brave light... may the light forever dispel the darkness..." Before the princess could reach the light, she woke in a gasp, shaken and startled.

    The next few days the feeling continued to linger and grow stronger. The days were gloomy and dark, and Celica would simply not let it go. One fateful day, thunder boomed overhead, foreshadowing a fate to the kingdom. Shouts of enemies approaching brought the castle guards to chaos. Running to her balcony, the princess looked over and watched the presence approach. An army of hundreds marched in-line, without a fault. They were Orcs. Orcs were the usual culprits of large-scale battles against High Rock leaders.

    However, there was something far more menacing about the army... they were perfectly aligned, much like a practiced military. It was unlike the usual barbaric and fierce fights the Orcs were known to live by. Looking far into the distance, the darkness that her mind warned came to focus... the army was no army of living soldiers, but of the dead. A power-hungry ruler rose from the soldiers, presenting himself in a theatrical manner: he was a crazed Breton master necromancer with a lust for power... specifically, a hidden power the kingdom held. Celica knew of the legends of a powerful talisman, but all higher official are mouth sealed closed whenever asked. How an outsider could possibly know of the secret when she did not was beyond her: but if he had the power to control an army of undead Orcs, there was no telling how much stronger he could get.

    It was then she realized who he was. He was a man who went by the name of Xinus the Evil. He had sent threats years ago when Celica's father turned down his offer to become the court wizard. With a long line of mastered mages within the kingdom already, it was nonsense to bring in an outsider. They politely declined, and he blatantly continued to pester the court until they sent him a notice to stop or there would be consequences. He sent one last letter in response, stating: "Oh, Evermore's leaders are smart... to not let me infiltrate your walls... watch your moves... and take your ultimate power away... very smart... aha but not smart enough for I, Xinus! You will regret not letting me easily come in and take what should be mine! We shall take the hard way... eh? May we meet in the future, my slaves." This was years ago, and only now had he began to unleash his wrath. And he was ready.

    The kingdom fell in chaos. Civilians in the town hid or provided supplies. The soldiers gathered quickly as the head tactician lead them the way. Changing her attire to armor, the princess ran down the stairs of her castle, before running into her father and mother. "You must stay here, Celica." Her father spoke, his tone filled with seriousness and wariness. "I cannot, father! I must lead the soldiers! If we wish to win, we need to lead them to victory - not death!" She argued, wielding her Terschion. "You will not disobey. The castle is the safest place. We cannot lose you." He retorted before her mother took her arm. "We must go Celica!" Without a moment to respond, Celica was dragged off by her mother.

    They went to the highest tower, almost unreachable by the enemy. During the start of the chaos, Celica and her mother's personal guards were separated from them as they ascended the stairs. Celica's appointed knight, Arthur, had a near-fatal wound from the intruders at the very beginning of the battle: something he laments often. No matter what happened, even the tallest tower could not protect the two. The undead army was fierce, and the deathly Orcs prepared ladders to climb the castle walls. They were shot down one by one by archers, but with their heavy armor, they were near invincible. Allied mages came to attack, but had to rid of the Orcs preparing the ladders below before they could climb to reach the others. Two Orcs appeared at the top of the tower, breaking the windows and pushing through. They had found two royals, to their joy, and the mother and daughter's terror.

    By surprise, they were not expecting both the women to attack. Celica blocked the swing of an axe with her Terschion as her mother blasted the Orc with fire, penetrating his armor. The other came by as Celica shot him with a fireball, blasting him to the other side of the room, cracks crawling up the walls. The living dead continued to invade the room, the two fighting with all their might. One by one, each one that entered was either blasted to oblivion or stabbed without a trace of the 'life' left. Fire scorched the stone walls as the smell of ashes filled the air. Below their battle, in the fields and in the cities, the invaders killed anything and anyone in sight, spreading their dark intentions. Soldiers clashed in the fields in front of the castle walls, shouts of the loyal and strong soldiers were relentless against the undead army, matching the echoes of thunder. Blood mixed with the pouring rain in the dark lands. Their leader continued forward, pushing the kingdom back farther and father as the Orcs continued to invade the castle's city and towns.


    Up in the tower, despite their graceful teamwork, the Orcs were far too strong, with too many. With a single swing, the largest creature attempted to cut down the princess when she was fighting the other: instead, with a shout, the queen sacrificed herself. "Mother!!!" There she lay on the floor, crimson painting the surrounding area. "C-Celica..." Fury surged through the princess like no other. Another blow came towards the queen, but the prior would be the last. "NO!" Holding her hand forward, the young woman blasted a fierce energy of a white/violet-fiery light that projected the Orc through the stone wall and out into the storm, killing him. As the other Orc came from behind, trying to attack her like the last, she quickly turned around, her sword now glowing with a bright surrounding flame, and pierced through his armor with her sword, going all the way through, before flames burst from the sides. The Orc fell, allowing Celica to remove her sword. With the recent Orc's being destroyed by a fierce magic, the others decided to continue the fight below before getting more numbers.

    "Mother!" Rushing to the queen's side, the light of life dimmed before her very hazel eyes. "Oh Celica... I am... so proud... of you..." Her voice was quiet and weak, but loving. "Oh mother please stay with me... I cannot lose you..." Tears shed from the princess's eyes, her hand gently caressing her mother's cheek. A shaky hand lifted and was placed on her hand which touched her face, and a smile appeared on the dark-haired woman's gentle face. "I love you.... and I know... you will always be the brightest soul... this kingdom needs..." Those were the last words of her mother; the Queen of Evermore.

    The cries echoed through the broken kingdom. Blame and failure was placed upon the princess's shoulders as her mother lay dead in her arms. Why couldn't she protect her? If she had listened to leave the first time instead of argue... they would not have been separated from their personal guards... what if she was stronger... She continued to cry, until she saw on the sides of her eyes her sword glowing the lilac-white hue. No... her mother's death would not be in vain. Not for what evil has done. She would not give up. Her passion and bravery was awakened. She could defeat the necromancer and his Orcs. Leaving her mother with a kiss on the forehead, she raced down the stairs, her Terschion in-hand, ready to aid the battle. While her mother passed, the soldiers gained the strength to once again push the orcs out of the castle and city walls. While the threat on the inside was gone, the Orcs continued to push forward and wreak havoc. Rushing through the fields, she quickly shot down any undead that came near her with bursts of bright flames, as well as slicing anyone who came too close.

    The battle was fierce. With the generals at hand, Celica lead them with her tactics - the tactician dead once again - to quickly regain what they had lost. The bloody battle raged as the enemy began to lose the advancements. Shouts of orders continued, and the soldiers continued forward. Once advanced enough, Celica met face to face with the undead ruler. No solider could go near him: but Celica found it her duty to do so. She would defeat him herself. For her mother. For her kingdom. For the light of the lands.

    Their own personal battle was just as fierce. Back and forth, they fought. Flames exploded as dark plumes clashed. Summoned barriers shattered with every hit of Celica's lilac-white flaming blade. Cries and grunts of pain exhaled both of them, but neither would give up. And the winning blow - the one which would end the war - was a piecing blow, far stronger than the one in the tower. "For my mother, for this kingdom, and for the light of this land - you will fall!" The blade blazed through the necromancer, a blinding light exploding with his screams, flames shooting out from all sides.

    It was the end.

    The screams of the necromancer Breton left nothing but ashes as he fell to the ground, falling victim to the winds that blew them away. Before the princess could face the rest of the foes, the undead Orcs too fell victim to the ashes, but they did not scream like Xinus. Instead, their whispers of thanks to be freed from the curse traveled on the winds of the thunderstorm that dissipated with them. The battle was over. Evermore had won.

    The year to follow was one of rebuilding and hope. Many lives were lost that fateful day, but new lives began with a brighter future ahead. Xinus had not only made threats years ago, but was a master vampire who had pestered Evermore for decades: before Celica's father Xander was even born. Constant supernatural occurrences and deaths and random illnesses would no longer occur with the curses appealed. With him gone, the kingdom was free from the menace. The princess had become a hero of her land, and her mother was memorialized through the hearts of all. The kingdom was restored, as well as the peace and light which followed. The battle was named The Battle of the Red: it signified the bloodshed that occurred, as well as the love the Queen gave in her final moments. Celica had grown mentally, physically, and spiritually through her time, which brought her a higher wisdom she never would've dreamed of. However, she knows she still has far more to learn.

    TEXT COLOR

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    Skyrim Journey

    Skyrim... I have never been to such a cold land. The people here are strong warriors that I respect. Their fear for magic though... I find quite peculiar. Of course, we are of different cultures; I cannot blame them entirely.

    I have come to give tactical advice for the Imperial soldiers in hopes of ending the Civil War. Those damned Thalmor... I just know they are purposely prolonging the war. They want Skyrim to be separated: it gives them more time to take over. Why can't elves and humans get along? We are all deserving of love and happiness. The Thalmor are no high elves to me... only traitorous beings of cowardly tendencies. No one needs to rule all of Tamriel. Leave the empire and dominion separate and happy I say. Work together for a change? Skyrim needs to stay together to become strong. Soon enough, once the empire is strong enough to hold our ground, Skyrim can worship Talos once again. Worshiping something you believe is important to me, and I hope that with Imperial help, we can give back what is rightfully theirs.

    Either way, I am happy they requested me. I was a bit flustered to think my name has been mentioned in the ranks of royal empire... how enchanting! I am honored, really. Evermore is a very influential kingdom, but I know we do not have much control. But I hope that I can be inspiring to others. That they can find peace and love in the world, and cherish it. That's all I've ever wanted.

    I am nervous to leave behind father. He has his guards, but I feel this need to protect him. His age and injuries of the past continue to ail him. He is still a strong warrior in my eyes, but... reality thinks otherwise. I have left without him before, but not this far from home. I am glad Arthur is at least by my side: someone I can undoubtedly trust with my life, no matter what. Someone I can speak my mind with, and rely on without facing ridicule or judgement.

    I hope I can do Skyrim a favor with my "exotic tactics" as they put it in the request. I simply want to help this beautiful land and her people. I've seen the mountains and plains from afar; they are quite beautiful and rich with history.

    I will do my best.

    ~ Celica
    Snoball and Specter of Death like this.
  • Eydis Makoi [Healer/Priestess] Character Card Mar 5, 2017

    [​IMG]

    Name: Eydis

    Nicknames: Eydis the Peaceful
    Birth name: Eydis Makoi

    Race: Nord [100%]

    Gender: Female

    Age: 19

    Height: 5'5

    Weight: 120 lbs

    Sexuality: Heterosexual

    Laterality: Right Handed


    APPEARANCE


    Skin/Scale/Fur Color: Fair

    Eyes: Indigo

    Hair Color/Horns/Ears: Light Blonde

    Hair Style/Feathers: Long and Straight

    Build: Slim

    Scars: None

    Tattoos: None

    Piercings: None

    Other:
    N/A

    APPAREL

    Constant Wear: Her clothes are light, delicate, and beautiful; she wants to be seen as a peaceful beauty that others can trust by sight. She wears a long white dress with short sleeves that is adorned with glittery designs of small glass crystals that line themselves in patterns, as well as a sheer outer layer that flows with the breeze. She wears tough-bottomed sandals that allow her to walk freely in nature.

    Casual Wear: [Reference constant wear.]

    Armor: Because of her attire, she has absolutely no armor. She does however, have a thick coat if traveling to colder regions as well as boots, hats, and gloves. Skyrim is a cold place... Other than that, she does use magic spells to increase her very small armor rating if there is an issue. It still is not very protective at all.


    GEAR

    Weapons: She is not a violent person - at all. Even if she needs to hunt she prays afterwards and chooses which animal to sacrifice carefully. She refuses to learn destruction spells or any other sort of spell revolving around violence... except for sparks, chain lightning, and lightning bolt. She is no fool, and knows that Skyrim is a dangerous place. If she must hurt an evil one, she makes sure to use electricity; no burns or freezing, except shock. She also carries around a glass dagger for similar protection and defense; never offense. For hunting, if required, she uses a normal hunting bow and steel arrows.

    [​IMG]



    Magic (If applicable): She has mastered Restoration at such a young age; in fact, she was considered a mastery level of knowledge on restoration at the age of 17. Of course, that was exactly ten years of practice under the guidance of multiple healers and priests. Being so young and intelligent, she was able to master such an arcane art so quickly. She is very skilled in the destruction class of electricity, but refuses to learn any more so. She is adept in Alteration, using multiple spells to help her on her travels.

    Other: She carries a plethora of potions, food, and maps.


    PERSONALITY AND VOICE

    Personality: Eydis has a heart of gold, a mind of charisma, and a soul of purity. Despite the stereotype of Nords, she is one of the most peaceful people can come across in their entire lives. She is a divine young woman lost in a world of evil and destruction. She will always look for the light in even the darkest of times. She prays every day, hoping for a future of peace, love, purity, and life. Her sweetness flows to everyone she meets as warm honey and her kindness glows as a blossoming flower that's scent travels afar. With a smile on her face, she is always happy to spare her time to help others heal both physically and mentally. She is the person who keeps a promise, no matter how small, and does her best to bring joy everyone; even those who deny their desire of it.

    Fighting Style: She is a peacemaker - not a fighter. However, if she must defend herself and bring harm among another being, she will decide what is best for the situation. If someone is attacking her head on, she will use her dagger and flee. If they are a distant enemy, she will use destruction magic. She does not carry around her bow unless she planned on hunting, so she never uses it in fighting situations.

    Habits:
    - She struggles to be unkind and selfish; if she sees someone hungry when she is hungry herself, she will give away the food she was going to eat.
    - She smiles almost always; even her default expression has a slight smile. This often frustrates those who attempt to be intimidating.
    - Easily frightened by scary things, her tendency to flee is very obvious. However, if others need help near those scary things, she will always go forward into the flames and aid the wounded and needy.
    - Apologizes and gives thanks constantly.

    Voice: Patricia Summersett - Princess Zelda, Breath of the Wild

    Likes:
    - Healing/Helping Others
    - Walks through Gardens
    - Flowers
    - Praying
    - Summertime
    - Practicing Alteration and Restoration
    - Alchemy

    Dislikes:
    - Evil Groups (Bandits, Thalmor, Thieves Guild, Dark Brotherhood, etc.)
    - Death/Illness/Injury
    - Malice
    - Violence/Destruction
    - Dangerous Animals/Creatures
    - Dark Arcane Arts
    - The Undead
    - Darkness

    MISCELLANEOUS

    Affiliations: None

    Afflictions/Fears:
    - Evil Groups (They terrify her)
    - Failure to save someone's life through healing
    - The Undead
    - Torture

    Properties: While exploring for ingredients one day, Eydis found a secret entrance hiding behind what looked like natural wood. As she walked inside, on the other side was a hidden valley deep within the land. It was small, but held a stream and tiny waterfall, an abundance of growing ingredients, and a small cottage. She carefully made her way over, before finding the cottage to be abandoned. She fixed it day by day, before she made it her home. She loves how hidden it is to keep away the evils that wander the lands. She travels out of the hidden valley to towns to aid people in healing as well as sell her potions she creates. She hasn't let anyone know where she lives, but while staying in towns, she uses their alchemy tables to make potions to sell (if they are in high demand) and rents a room at an inn.

    Job: A priestess, healer, and alchemist.

    Combat Skills: She has very little combat skills, as she refrains from fighting. Only for defensive purposes has she learned a few tricks. She is very stealthy surprisingly, and uses her skill to get away. Other than that, healing is her main skill in combat.

    Other:
    - She is very wise and mature for her age, and always has been. It is one of the reasons she was not given much attention as a child.
    - While wise, she is extremely pure. This means she tends to not avoid 'tainting' thoughts of evil and darkness. She knows she cannot ignore the terrible things in life, as that is foolish, but her heart and mind is pure of any evil.
    - She worships the divines Mara, Kynareth, Arkay, Azura, and Meridia.


    HISTORY/BACKSTORY

    From the day of her birth, the beauty that is Eydis brought light into the world to make the bright sunny day even more joyous than before. She was a peaceful child, growing to adore plants, animals, and life, much like the Elves. However, her parents were strong and warrior-like Nords; the usual stereotype. At an early age, her parents decided it was time to move to a more populous area.

    Leaving the forest and her family cottage, they were traveling once more. The blonde was the youngest of her siblings, and despite being the youngest, she was often overlooked. Her six other siblings were far too active for her parents to keep up. They were often worn out, and because of Eydis’s peaceful and calm nature, gave little to no attention to the obedient child. It became natural for Eydis to do what was needed without being asked, often taking care of her siblings’ messes without question. Every now and then she would gain praise from her parents, giving her the happiness to continue her bright a kind lifestyle. However, they were a bit displeased that she was uninterested in the Nordic Warrior culture that the rest of the family shared.

    The Makoi’s first stop was into the Castle Town of Solitude. They were able to find a small home to which they could all pile into. Her father was a skilled blacksmith and was quickly able to gain a job for making weaponry for the knights and citizens of the empire. Her mother was a merchant who traded and traveled often to gain such goods.

    Her siblings were the usual group of children who made a ruckus, often playing with the other local children of the town. They would play their games of tag, play sword fights, and more. However, the quiet Eydis stepped aside and watched them play. As the youngest, when she did try to play, she was often told she was too young. In the end, she found herself wandering for something else to do.

    One day she found herself in the local library, wandering and reading books. She was of average intelligence, but was skilled in the understanding of chemistry. The blonde was quickly acquainted with the local alchemist, an apothecary, who was also skilled in the arcane art of restoration. Under her wing, the young girl pursued the training of the expert, learning very valuable tips and tricks to both alchemy and magical restoration.

    After five years of residence in Solitude, her parents decided to move the family once again. This time they moved to Windhelm - a polar opposite of Solitude. While her parents and family loved the place, Eydis did not; she hated the segregation, racism, and power-hungry people the town housed. She was able to find someone who was skilled in alchemy, but no one skilled in restoration and alteration who cared to teach her. Instead, she taught herself, traveling alone and paying people to purchase the books when they traveled to return them to her.

    Despite being alone, she was extremely successful in her five years teaching herself restoration, as well as gaining high skills in alchemy. By the age of seventeen, being the last child living in the home of her parents, she left. With nothing but her knowledge she traveled, aiding those who needed healing and medicine. She made quite a bit of coin traveling as she gathered ingredients, healed travelers and townsfolk alike, and made potions to sell. She ended up finding her new cottage home, and now, two years later, continues her work to someday bring peace into the dark world.
    Specter of Death likes this.
  • Valencia Ildrose [Knight/Healer] Character Card Oct 30, 2016

    Heart of Gold

    "Lady Valencia, Valencia the Brave, The Rose of Wayrest, The White Knight; the blue-eyed, white-haired knight is one everyone knows here, no matter how she is called upon. She has a heart of gold, a love for the kingdom of Wayrest, and undying loyalty to Prince Rodeyval. She is a fighter, and a hero. Unfortunately, she is no longer here to speak with; she is on a private mission in Skyrim, I'm told. We all wish her the best."

    -A Knight of the Rose from Wayrest, High Rock.


    [​IMG]

    Name:
    Valencia Eve Ildrose

    Nicknames:
    Valencia the Brave and Val

    Race:
    Nord [75%] and Breton [25%]

    Gender:
    Female

    Age:
    24

    Height:
    5'7

    Weight:
    140 lbs

    Sexuality:
    Heterosexual

    Laterality:
    Right Handed

    [​IMG]
    APPEARANCE

    {{{{{[REDO PLS <3]}}}}}
    Skin/Scale/Fur Color: Fair

    Eyes: Light Blue

    Hair Color/Horns/Ears: White

    Hair Style/Feathers: Wavy Short

    Build: Slim with Feminine Muscles

    Scars: One cut across chest, one burn on upper left arm, and one cut on right leg.

    APPAREL

    Constant Wear: Her clothes are to keep her protected; thus, she wears thick apparel as well as armor. She is always seen with her blue scarf, no matter the weather. Skyrim is usually cold anyways.

    Casual Wear: Her protective clothes and armor, of course. She never knows what could happen upon any day, and is always willing to be ready for anything. Again, her trusty blue scarf.

    Armor: Her armor is always the same; an entirely handcrafted light armor set that has the stats of heavy armor. It is designed with various small details of leaves, referring to her gentle nature she showed during her epic battle. Also, her blue scarf.

    [​IMG]
    GEAR

    Weapons:
    She will always carry her favorite one-handed sword and shield wherever she travels. Her sword is the Royal Sword of Wayrest, and her Shield is the Royal Shield of Wayrest. They were forged with some of the strongest of materials in Tamriel, and rumor has it that when necessary, secret enchantments may come from them. She carries a few other weapons, including a dagger and bow.

    [​IMG] [​IMG]

    Magic:
    While she is not knowledgeable on most magic, she is extremely skilled in restoration. She considers it one of her stronger suits as well, which is rare for a warrior-like person. She even dubbed it 'her life saver' in a speech. She also knows a great amount of destruction, which is for when she is stripped of her primary weapons in dangerous situations. She is also working on, and currently knows a few words, of the Thu'um.

    Other:
    She carries a lot of potions, lockpicks, food, and maps.

    [​IMG]
    PERSONALITY AND VOICE

    Personality: As any hero would be, she is courageous, wise, kind, honorable, and generous. Despite being a woman who has murdered others in battles across vast lands, she is generally very sweet and surprisingly innocent in nature. Her innocence is not to be confused with ignorance, as she knows how evil the world truly is. For her, she radiates a pure heart that tries to bring peace and joy to others; hence the reason why she seems so innocent. She is a very patient and wise woman, and her generosity to help others extends farther than what many can possibly do. Her courage and honor spreads throughout every land she walks upon, hoping to find peace in a world that worships evil and commits such sins.

    Habits:
    + Because of her backstory with royalty and knighthood, she is very polite when interacting with others, even when they are rude to her. She also has a great posture and table manners.
    + She often organizes things, sometimes unintentionally.
    + Counting her coins. She never does this in public, but mostly in her home. She is very self-aware of finances, and wants to make sure she can have a happy life if she somehow cannot return to Wayrest to an unforeseen factor.

    Voice:
    Emma Watson

    Likes:
    + Exploring
    + Helping Others
    + Dresses
    + Wealth, to an extent
    + Rabbits
    + The Sky, both day and night
    + Learning new things

    Dislikes:
    + Evil
    + The Dark Brotherhood, the Thieves Guild, Bandits, Vampires, Werewolves, Hagravens, Necromancers, Thalmor, and Multiple other 'evil' groups of people.
    + Death
    + Poverty
    + Illness/Injury
    + Arrogance
    + Carelessness

    MISCELLANEOUS

    Affiliations:
    A knight of the Knights of the Rose in Wayrest, High Rock.

    Afflictions/Fears:
    + Surprisingly, death. But she will not let that get in the way of helping others.
    + Failure
    + Her love, surprising as well, and she keeps it a secret.
    + Permanent injury; same with death, she does not let the fear get in the way.

    Properties:
    She owns a property in Whiterun.

    Job:
    Knight, Mercenary, and Trader. Healing can be considered, but she doesn't dare ask for payment of such.

    Other:
    + She is secretly disconnected on the affection of love. She prays to Mara, hoping someday she will understand. She wishes to find someone to be her partner, but she desires no children or intercourse. She refuses to say why, and usually ends up pushing away any feelings due to her lost thoughts.
    + She is not a fan of alcohol, and jokingly calls it "brain poison". Despite this, if one manages to get her drunk, she becomes very flirtatious, immature, rebellious, and careless; everything opposite to her. The next day while ill, she will mourn over her actions and apologize constantly.
    + Her blue scarf is from her childhood friend, Rodeyval. He made it himself and gave it to her for saving his life.

    [​IMG]
    HISTORY/BACKSTORY

    Summary:

    Detailed:

    Born with a healthy baby girl, the parents of Valencia were surprised to see the white hair she possessed. Despite having white hair, they were not concerned, as it was not tinted grey, and she was overall very healthy. She grew up a curious child, wandering the halls of the Wayrest castle. Her father was a respectable and one of the highest ranked knights at the time. Thus, to protect inside the castle itself, Delvon Ildrose was allowed to live within it. The King and Queen were delighted to have another child roaming the halls with their own son, often playing together.

    As she grew up, she was taught benevolence and chivalry when in the presence of royalty, to which she became accustomed to both acting like a royal and acting like a knightly guard. Her mother, despite being fully Nordic, taught her daughter the arcane arts, while her knightly father, Breton and Nordic, taught her the ways of the knight. She lived a very happy life, and became very popular among others who visited the castle with her bright personality; enough to where she was mistaken to be a princess.

    The years passed, and she grew more mature. Valencia was often found healing the injured knights and guards, talking with civilians, tending to the gardens, training, and reading. While she was never a royal herself, she couldn't help but love the beauty and responsibility it had. The wealth, the responsibility, the changes she could make to the world for the greater good; she wanted it. However, she knew very well it was never in her grasp, and began to take a similar path of career as her father.

    More years passed, and as her princely friend grew as well, she managed to form a fondness of the young man. She very often pushed away anything to do with such emotions, as he was a childhood best friend. She did manage to invite him to a dinner with just the two of them, and he did except. Despite this, nothing else came out of it but the continuation of their friendship. This, she did not mind at all.

    As her training years passed, she finally became a knight of the Knights of the Rose. Her father was honored to have his daughter follow in his footsteps, and at such a young age. Two years passed after her acceptance, and an ordeal faced the kingdom greatly. An evil man, the name of Fanandar the Strong, stormed the castle with his group of rouges, attempting to murder the royal family to take the throne.

    The Knights of the Rose took their stands, and began to battle. While all of this was occurring, the King and Queen were taken into protection in a separate room. In the chaos, their son was lost in the castle. Sprinting frantically, Valencia left to find the prince. She made it the throne room, to which he was hiding in. Not a second later, did Fanandar the Strong bust through the doors, sword in hand, ready for battle. With no one else around, Valencia stood in front of prince Rodeyval drawing her sword to Fanandar.

    The battle was grueling and tough, but her skill in healing managed to save her from massive injury. With each slice, she grew closer and closer to finishing him. Finally, after a long and damaging battle, Valencia managed to stab him through the chest, killing the rebellious leader. She managed to heal herself until others arrived, Fanandar the Strong dead with the prince alive. She was quickly healed by others, and praised for her courage from the royal family.

    While the surprise rebellion was deadly, it was far from a war or large uprising. Despite this, Valencia was awarded with the Royal Sword, Royal Shield, and a lifetime to stay in the castle. The blue-eyed young woman couldn't be happier that she helped protect those she cared about.

    Not many years later had Valencia decided she wanted to go exploring, and spread kindness and peace throughout Tamriel. Her main target was for Skyrim. She desired to meet with the Grey Beards, learn the language of the Thu'um, and learn more about her Nordic culture that most of her heritage was from. She was given a hearty goodbye, told that she would forever be a Knight of the Rose, before she left for Skyrim.

    In time, she managed to learn a few words of the Thu'um, and decided to stay in Skyrim for a few more years to learn more from the Greybeards. She was also tragically grief-stricken by Skyrim's awful politics and violence, to which she hoped to solve as well. She ended up buying a property in Whiterun, that way her location was central to Skyrim, and her travels would be less drastic. She also began trading with many, as her adventures lead to many items of finding, and Whiterun was the trading central of Skyrim.

    For now, she also offers mercenary work, and still considers herself a knight, and trades, to earn money. She still has many riches from her duty in Wayrest. She also volunteers to heal the sick and injured while traveling, never asking for coin in return. Again, her main goal is to spread peace and kindness throughout Tamriel.
    Specter of Death likes this.
  • Keres (Necromancer) Character Card Oct 15, 2016

    Keres Tenebris [Necromancer] Character Card

    [​IMG]

    [​IMG]
    Name: Keres

    Nicknames: Mistress Keres and Keres the Necromancer

    Birth name: Keres Tenebris

    Race: Nord; Hoping to someday be a Lich

    Gender: Female

    Age: 22

    Height: 5'7

    Weight: 130 lbs

    Sexuality: Asexual, but acts heterosexual

    Laterality: Left Handed


    APPEARANCE


    Skin/Scale/Fur Color: Pale Tan

    Eyes: Fuschia-Violet

    Hair Color/Horns/Ears: Dark brunette

    Hair Style/Feathers: Straight Long Dark Brunette Hair

    Build: Slim and Slight Curves

    Scars: None

    Tattoos: None

    Piercings: One ear piercing on both ears on the lobes

    Other:
    N/A

    APPAREL

    Constant Wear: Her clothes are sultry and tend to show a lot of skin, despite being in the Skyrim winters. Because of her haughty self, her clothes are usually revealing and does not bother her as she prefers the cold.

    Casual Wear: A very sultry outfit much like a violet corset with chains and lace, along with detached sleeve with connected gloves. The corset reveals her hips before a showy long skirt follows downward, with shoes of sandals with ribbon laced upwards below the knees. She wears a lot of jewelry, and all of her clothing consists of enchantments.

    Armor: When in heavy battles, she wears boots, thick robes with a hood, lots of jewelry still, and still many enchantments.


    GEAR

    Weapons: She finds normal weapons... barbaric. She prefers the use of magic and magic only. If needed, she will conjure a bow or weapon. She does, however, carry an ebony dagger, and a few Staffs depending on where she is and if she wants something that doesn't drain her magicka, and the Skull of Corruption.

    Magic (If applicable): Magic is her strong suit. Her favorite school, of course, is Conjuration. Whether it is summoning the undead or conjuring creatures, she is ready. She enjoys Illusion and Destruction as well, along with Restoration to heal herself. She is well rounded in all schools of magic, truthfully. If she wanted to, she could destroy the Arch-Mage in the College of Winterhold with a flick of the wrist.

    Other: She carries a lot of potions, scrolls, lockpicks if needed, and books.


    PERSONALITY AND VOICE

    Personality: Sultry, Seductive, Clever, and Wicked, are all worthy terms. She isn't afraid to use her looks for deceit; which works. Her selfish ways and ultimate evil strides make her ruthless, dark, sadistic, haunting, malicious, and cold, all while being her sultry and seductive self. She always shows her darkness and evil; of course, she still may have a bit of light in her... maybe. From the looks of many, no hope is to be found.

    Fighting Style: Seductive and Magic. Seduce a person and back-stab them. That rarely does work, as most confrontations are instantaneously occurring. Rather, she usually jumps into magic. Conjuring others to aid her or do most of the work is what tends to occur.

    Habits: Despite being distasteful towards physical weapons, she does carry around a dagger; just in case she somehow cannot access her magicka. She can be often be found talking to inanimate objects or unintelligent creatures; usually skulls, objects, rabbits, etc.

    Voice: Charlize Theron - Queen Ravenna

    Likes:
    -Necromancy
    -Creating Scrolls/Spells
    -Power
    -Wealth
    -Night
    -Alchemy
    -Butterflies

    Dislikes:
    -Arrogance
    -The Stormcloaks, Thalmor, and the Imperials (Pretty much everyone)
    -Skeevers
    -Betrayal
    -Being Fooled
    -Giants
    -The Weak

    MISCELLANEOUS

    Affiliations: Her and her fellow necromancers' version of The Order of the Black Worm

    Afflictions/Fears:
    -Death
    -Werewolves
    -Being Tortured
    -Complete Darkness

    Properties: Hob's Fall Cave; she is the head of the group of necromancers that were replaced with those trying to revive the Order of the Black Worm.

    Job: A fellow Necromancer; they kill when they need supplies, and loot anything they possibly can. She sells books, scrolls, potions, and even is willing to take dead bodies of murders and secret assassinations if she is paid to hide the evidence. She is also willing to kill certain people if she is paid and is allowed to take the bodies if she wants. Despite being so distant from the cities, she has many "strings" attached to people; so she is very wealthy and powerful.

    Combat Skills: She's clever, quick-witted, seductive, and powerful; a dangerous mix to be reckoned with. Her use of magic is a powerful one; one of which she isn't afraid to show. It is difficult to take her down due to her ability in magic and spells.

    Other: She openly worships the Daedric Princes Vaermina and Molag Bal. She retrieved Vaermina's Skull of Corruption, and believes Vaermina chose her to be her mortal representative of a God-Like being. In order to gather a larger power, she worships Molag Bal as well, hoping to gain his powers he is willing to give her. She also dislikes The Order of the Black Worms - the group that the necromancers were trying to revive by praying to Mannimarco - because of the fact that she believes she was destined to be the new leader of necromancy. She also finds some of the choices Mannimarco made to be idiotic, and murdered the necromancers that believed otherwise.


    HISTORY/BACKSTORY

    As a child, she was the most innocent and pure of heart a child of Skyrim could possibly be. Her love for the sun, warmth, and happiness was incomparable by her joyous aura. As a Nord, she was often disliked by her community because of her open interest with magic. The other children called her weak, and some of the parents joined in as well. She also began to worship the Daedric Prince Vaermina, as she thought it was incredible how she could connect people to nightmares and make them real. She did this for many years, before she slowly gained an interest in Molag Bal; however, it was very small.

    Her parents were stereotypical Nords that disliked the use of magic, so she kept it a secret for as long as possible, until a gossiping parent shared the info of their daughter to be a practitioner of magic. In anger, the parents burned all of her books about magic, including her journal. In anger, she cursed her parents' names under the name of Molag Bal, which in turn distributed fear into them. Her mother beat her as her father prayed for their daughter to "be saved", until Keres was barely alive. That night, Keres realized the power that a small name could have. She prayed to Vaermina, asking for guidance. In a dream, Vaermina spoke to her and told her she would be chosen and Vaermina would give her guidance if she were to somehow prove her loyalty. She gave the hint of "Pray to another," before leaving her dream.

    The next day, Keres never left her room, trying to rewrite every spell she could possibly remember before she would forget. Her parents never bothered her. That night, Keres prayed to Vaermina, and then Molag Bal, asking for guidance. Suddenly, objects began to float around her room, a strange darkness engulfing the area. The voice of Molag Bal spoke to her, telling her a great way for Vaermina to trust Keres was to murder one of her parents, resurrect them, and make them murder the other, before killing the undead once again. Questioning why, Molag Bal explained that Keres had "a great potential to Vaermina" and that Keres would someday be of great use to Molag Bal. At first, she was reluctant, until the Daedric Prince told her "right now, you are a weak, spineless mortal. I have no need for you, and never will. But it is always nice to have a mortal willing to send me more souls my way..." With that, the voice left, leaving Keres with the choice.

    The next evening she left her room, eating for the first time in many hours with her parents. She tried talking to them, but their answers were short. She walked outside and tended to the garden before the thunderstorm came in. She was then approached by other teenagers who began to torment her with questions such as "Why are you a demon worshiper?" and "Talk about a nightmare in real life - seeing you!" and "I heard your mother beat you. Magic is weak if you cannot stop your own mother from defeating you." From their she stood, realizing the rumors were spread tremendously, as she returned inside the house. She began to cry, sitting on a chair.

    Her mother came into the room, and put her hand on her shoulder. "What is wrong, sunshine?" she asked, kneeling down. "They... they say such horrible things..." she stammered, sobbing. "What did they say?" Her mother asked. Wiping her tears, Keres sniffled. "Why is it... so wrong... to speak to Vaermina and Molag Bal? Vaermina helps me remember everything in my dreams... Molag Bal lets me learn about Necromancy... I can bring grandma back... and auntie Ysma..." "That is evil, Keres." her mother cut her off. "But I can help people." "NO. YOU TALK TO THEM?" her mother spoke louder. "I pray to them, because they actually treat me with fairness. Well... not much of Molag Bal, but Vaermina-" "YOU PRAY TO THEM IN THIS HOUSEHOLD!?" her mother screamed, Keres wincing. "JOVENSTIN QUICKLY!! KERES HAD BROUGHT EVIL!"

    Trying to explain, Keres stood and began to back up. Her father came into the room and grabbed her, holding her down. He began to chant prayers, as well as her mother, as her mother began to beat her once again. "Please forgive our sunshine! Our dearest Keres! Bring her justice, oh wise divines!" Keres continued to cry out, asking them to stop, pleading as she bled. Suddenly, Keres screamed, expelling a fire that pushed her family members aside. She stood, facing her father, shooting him with a bolt of lightning, causing an instant death. Her mother watched in terror as she faced her father, and used the conjuration spell to reanimate her father. Once her father was the undead, she turned around to face her mother, and pointed to her. Her father pulled out a dagger and began to stab her mother, to which her mother tried to fight back, with no avail. From behind, once her mother was dead, Keres shot a massive fireball at her father, returning him to death.

    The poor young woman began to gather supplies, before leaving her home. She never looked back, and never returned. Traveling many days, she was trying to make her way to the College of Winterhold, in order to learn more about magic. However, she was captured by a group of necromancers nearby, who were trying to use her as a sacrifice to revive the Order of the Black Worm. She was able to persuade them in sparing her, as she showed off her own necromancy skills. It was then that she learned of what The Order of the Black Worm was many times ago. In secret, she thought the group was idiotic, but continued to play along. Instead of worshiping Mannimarco on her spare time and out of the group, she would pray to Vaermina and Molag Bal. However, she was becoming worries as Vaermina had stopped speaking to her. In fear, she traveled far and wide to find a way to seek her out. It was then she went on the quest to obtain her Skull of Corruption.

    Finally Vaermina spoke to her once more, telling her that every night she would give her knowledge of the arcane arts in her dreams if she were to spread the worship of Vaermina. Keres agreed, content with the power Vaermina was bestowing upon her. While returning to Hob's Fall Cave, she was presented with the voice of Molag Bal, telling her that he too would give her ultimate power if she were to spread his worship. She agreed without second thought, and continued home. When she returned, she told her fellow necromancers that they must worship Vaermina and Molag Bal, as they were worthy of the evil arcane arts they desired. Many objected, to which Keres threatened them. A miniature battle arose, to which Keres was able to quickly annihilate those in her way. From then on, she was in control of the group.

    Extra: Her entire life is very ironic; the fact that her overly-religious parents caused her to despise them, only for her to become super religious as well. She also despises Mannimarco for his choices with the Daedra, and she already is following the same path without noticing how such evil Daedra will return her karma after death.
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