BASIC
NAME Kaylee Mannerling
AGE 26
GENDER Female
RACE Breton
BIRTHPLACE Evermor, High Rock
ORIGIN Two Breton parents
CLASS Specialist - Sniper
HEIGHT 5'2"
WEIGHT 7st, 12lb
BMI 20.1
PROPERTIES None apart from her military quarters
LATERALITY Right-handed
SEXUALITY Heterosexual
MARITAL STATUS Single
HEALTH Healthy
AFFILIATIONS Imperials
AFFLICTIONS None
RELIGION Believes in the Divines, but does not actively worship them. Instead worships and prays to her own god; she believes there is only one god, and the common religion has simply split Him into nine aspects. She worships this god, whom she calls The Almighty, and prays to Him before every kill
APPEARANCE
HAIR Short(ish) dark brown hair. Worn in a short ponytail at the back, with some framing her face.
EYES Large, brown eyes.
BUILD Short, thin but quite muscular.
SKIN Pale tan, a few freckles.
SCARS A clean bullet wound on the left shoulder.
PERSONALITY
POSITIVE TRAITS Quite friendly, kind towards friends, very good at making what she's saying very clear.
NEGATIVE TRAITS Sarcastic, sometimes hesitates to carry out her orders.
NEUTRAL TRAITS Brutally efficient; to make her job easier, she refuses to think of the enemy as a living person.
LIKES Talking to her squadmates, the satisfaction of saving one of their lives.
DISLIKES Watching innocents or friends die, the Thalmor.
FEARS Causing the death of her squad; she is incredibly careful to make sure this doesn't happen.
ASPIRATIONS To stop the Thalmor.
QUIRKS When she finds a spot to snipe from, she goes completely silent except for a few words.
ALIGNMENT Neutral good
HABITS Cleaning her rifle zealously, keeping it spotless.
HOBBIES Drinking, talking, training.
GEAR
ARMOUR General military gear; camouflaged trousers, with a white tank top under a camouflaged jacket with short sleeves. Her forearms are always uncovered, and she wears a silver necklace that belonged to her mother.
WEAPONS An M14 sniper rifle, with a basic silencer, for short-range sniping. For long-range, she uses an M24 rifle, equipped with a silencer. In the case of necessary CQC, she has an M1911 pistol strapped to her left leg and a combat knife strapped to her right boot.
HISTORY
CHILDHOOD Kaylee was born into a family of Evermor that was not particularly happy. Her mother was jobless, due to her terminal Blood Lung, and her father was forced to work to feed a family of three. They got by, but only just. At the age of seven, Kaylee was already being bullied because of her ragged clothes and skinny form. She met a kindly old man, who taught her to defend herself. From then on, Kaylee would keep herself safe against the bullies, and her life became slightly better.
But when she was thirteen, her mother died. She and her father were left alone. Kaylee's mother left her a necklace; the family heirloom that was at least a hundred years old. Since putting it on at that point, she has never taken it off.
As sad as it was, her mother's death increased the quality of her family's life immeasurably. Her father's employer took pity on him and finally promoted him to a role in which he was happy, and earning enough to provide for four people easily. They moved into a large house, and Kaylee finally got a decent life. The bullying stopped, and her friends were able to spend more time with her. Kaylee was sad because of her mother's death, though her life was finally better.
TEENAGE YEARS Kaylee's school was a specialized one; after leaving her original school, her father decided that her self-defence played an important part in her life, and so Kaylee decided to go to combat school. She showed exceptional skill in marksmanship, and so was directed down the path of a sniper. Even at the age of seventeen, she was the most skilled sniper in the entire academy.
She stayed in the academy as a teacher for three years after completing her training, until she was approached by a military recruiter. The Imperial Meridian wanted her to be a part of their roster. She graciously accepted, and said goodbye to her life in Evermor.
ADULTHOOD Kaylee joined the Meridian aged twenty-two. She took three years of advanced training, in which she learnt more of the skills she would need to be a part of a military unit, such as obedience, camaraderie, persistence, and other such skills. Obedience was particularly difficult for her; her personality does not accept being ordered about easily. This is reflected in her hesitation at certain orders given to her.
She met her squadmates once she had completed her training. She got to know them very quickly, and liked each one of them. She often went drinking with them, despite being an oddity to them; a female sniper was something not often seen in military units. However, she fit in well with her squadmates and they became very friendly. She regularly sent letters back to her friends and her father in Evermor, and learnt that her father was now a manager and earning enough to support him for years after retiring. Combined with Kaylee's happy life and reasonably high wages, Kaylee was incredibly happy at the eventual success of her family.
PREVIOUS RP SAMPLE
Enrael whined.
The wolf was never quite satisfied with his surroundings. I couldn't blame him; I felt the same way. The only time I was happy was when I was either surrounded by friends or surrounded by nothing.
I shushed him; we needed to be in utter silence for this camp. The leader was known to be among the most perceptive bandits in Skyrim. I had even taken the liberty of casting a spell around Lycan's scabbard, so that when it was drawn it would make no sound. I drew it quickly, with the minimal amount of movement. Enrael began to snarl slightly; his teeth bared and his hackles raised.
Then, suddenly, we struck. Before they knew what was happening, one of the bandits was wandering about, chasing his own head before dropping to the floor, and Enrael was mauling another by the time I threw a fireball at the one rushing me with a battleaxe. The man collapsed, rolling about in the dirt to no avail. His blackened corpse was finally extinguished when I released the magic. I used the strength granted to me by my affliction to leap right over the head of another bandit and cleave his skull in two as Enrael tore off the nose of the one closest to the leader. Then I turned to the man I had come to kill.
"Well. Fancy that, a beautiful young woman coming here and killing all my men; for me. Tell me, did Balgruuf want me alive, or just beaten a bit?" His smug face irritated me but I didn't show it.
"Neither." I strode up to meet him, and lopped his head off before he even knew what I had said. I caught the head, stuffed it into a bag, and set off back towards Whiterun.
Before long, I was before the Jarl himself, holding out the bag, blood dripping from the bottom onto the fire and evaporating in a red mist that accentuated my pink hair.
"Well, Wolfrunner. I see the other Jarls weren't wrong; you don't mess around." He threw a heavy purse to me.
"My name is Kaeri. I thank you, my Jarl. I take my leave." I threw the head over the fire, letting it roll to a stop at Balgruuf's feet. Irileth gave a cry of outrage at my insolence, but I kept walking and heard Balgruuf calling her back. I smiled.
I went back to the Bannered Mare, the revelers all stopping to stare at me and Enrael yet again.
Honestly, you'd have thought they'd be used to me by now.
I ordered a bottle of mead, setting down a few of the septims Balgruuf had given me. Then I sat at a vacant table and faced away from everyone.
Before long, I heard trouble brewing. Nazeem, again, that arrogant tosser, having a go at Hulda for one single unclean glass. I tried to ignore him, right up until Hulda began to weep and Nazeem kept going. I stood up and turned to him.
"Nazeem. Leave her alone."
"You have no part in this." Nazeem didn't even have the decency to look at me.
"Maybe not, but I will do if you don't leave her alone."
Nazeem whipped around, turning to face me, his angry face right up to mine. "No-one asked for your input, bastard."
There was silence. My fists clenched. Enrael growled loudly and prepared to pounce. I suddenly gritted my teeth and punched Nazeem, hard, with one tightly gloved hand. He was lucky one of the large spikes hadn't pierced his cheek. He fell, looked up at me, and spat at me. I kicked him in the mouth, and a tooth flew off into the wall as Nazeem fell unconscious. I looked around the inn. Everyone was staring at me.
"Don't ever call me bastard." My birth annoyed me as much as it annoyed everyone else. Damn Thalmor, raping my mother on a drunken night out; it was their fault, not mine. The threat seemed to work its magic though, as everyone turned away and began talking again. I turned to Hulda, and put a hand on her shoulder, offering her my handkerchief. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes, I think so. Thank you, Wolfrunner. I promise you, no-one will ever call you bastard in this inn again, not without getting thrown out."
"He was right, Hulda, but thanks for the gesture. Now, I need that room again. How much was it?"
"Oh, no, Wolfrunner, you have it free of charge tonight. And the next night, if you wish it."
I inclined my head to Hulda in thanks, and climbed the stairs to the large room that overlooked the rest of the inn. Rather than sitting on the chair to watch the inn from above, I just went straight to bed. I was fed up of people calling me Wolfrunner, and bastard, even though both were justified. I changed out of my leather clothing and into a silk gown, then got under the sheets and closed my eyes. Enrael laid beside me, snuggling his snout into my neck and keeping me warm. I hugged him, gripping his soft brown fur, and drifted off to sleep.
If there's anything needs changing, just let me know.
