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    Mr.Self Destruct

    Chosen Undead
    MW-banner-Imperial.png
    "They shall be my finest warriors, chosen from across the four corners of Tamriel. Forged from the furnace of war, they shall be unstoppable. Our shield against the darkness, our blade to sow faith against doubt. Let them live on in legend, my gift to the future Emperors of the Septim Empire, the Guardians of the Dragon."
    ~Empress Katariah

    To be named a Primarch is the highest honor the Emperor can bestow upon a person. Personally selected to act as the Emperor's personal team of warriors, rogues and mages. Only the greatest are chosen to become a Primarch of Vigilum Draconis.

    The Primarchs
     

    The OP3RaT0R

    Call me Op. Or Smooth.
    Astius Aerius
    Primarch of the Vigilum Draconis

    INFO
    » NAME Astius Aerius
    » ALIAS The Dwemer Sentinel
    » AGE 36
    » RACE Imperial
    » BIRTH DATE 4th of Mid Year
    » BIRTH PLACE Jerall Mountains, Cyrodiil
    » BIRTH SIGN The Steed
    » CLASS Battlemage/Assassin
    » GENDER Male
    » HEIGHT 6'2"
    » WEIGHT 160
    » BMI 20.5
    » BUILD Quite muscular
    » LATERALITY Right-handed
    » SEXUALITY Heterosexual
    » MARITAL STATUS Unmarried
    » PROPERTIES A Dwemer ruin in the mid-southern Colovian Highlands
    » AFFILIATION Third Era - The Vigilum Draconis
    » ALLIGNMENT Chaotic Neutral/Good - Astius respects the law, but is aware that the Empire is imperfect and will take matters into his own hands when he is justified in doing so. He cares the most for himself and those others whom he chooses to care for, making him seem to be neutral, but he simply is selfishly moral, and hates when force is used against anyone who does not deserve it.
    » AFFLICTIONS None
    » RELIGION None - follows Dwemer "gods" of Logic and Reason
    » HABITS Being very observant and scientific
    » HOBBIES Working with Dwemer tech, reading Dwemer history and philosophy

    PERSONALITY
    » POSITIVE TRAITS Rational, inventive, steadfast, independent
    » NEGATIVE TRAITS Unfriendly towards most religion, can come off as somewhat arrogant - but he is just that good
    » LIKES The Dwemer, knowledge, seeing justice done
    » DISLIKES Mysticism, ignorance, laziness, Imperial bureaucrats
    » FEARS Seeing people like his family succeed at evil
    » ASPIRATIONS To destroy his family's cult
    » PHILOSOPHY Astius believes that anything can be done if one applies one's reasoning mind and logical abilities; while he is aware that there are gods in existence, they hold no claim over anyone's lives; he considers using force for any reason other than against someone who uses it for evil, is evil; he believes that people deserve the utmost freedom to be productive, but he is willing to accept the lesser of two evils so long as his personal views are not distorted; he is willing to work with anyone who will deal with him on the basis of rationality, whether they explicitly agree with his philosophy or not. Astius considers the creed of sacrifice as the downfall of all good.
    » QUIRKS While he can appreciate nature's beauty, Astius tends to get bored with it over time, and takes to speculating on how he might change it into something better.

    APPEARANCE
    » HAIR LENGTH Fairly short, only an inch or two
    » HAIR COLOR Copper blond
    » FACIAL HAIR None
    » EYE COLOR Deep blue
    » SKIN COLOR Tan
    » FACE Strong jawline, high cheekbones, looks overall determined
    » SCARS A faint one across his right pectoral from during his escape
    » UNIQUE FEATURES He devised a way to give himself a tattoo in gold of a Dwemer starmap on his left bicep
    » ATTIRE [CASUAL] Astius generally wears his assassin robes or simple black trousers and a clean white linen shirt.
    » GEAR Astius has two distinct sets of gear for two different combat styles.
    • Assassin - White robes under light Dwemer armor pieces (chest and torso, arms, legs, boots), Dwemer hidden blade on right arm, Dwemer hidden wrist crossbow on left arm, Saber of Mrunac (saber enchanted to absorb the energy of an impact with metal and transmit it back through the blade, causing it to cut through metal; only works on very hard hits), concealed pockets for alchemical smoke bombs, crossbow bolts, and potions and poisons
    • Battlemage - Dwemer heavy armor and cape, Dwemer longsword with a hole drilled through from the bottom of the handle up through the blade that filters out through a number of miniscule holes allowing poison to be distributed along the blade via the hole in the bottom, a satchel for potions and poisons
    RELATIONS
    THIRD ERA FACTIONS:

    » Imperial Legion [NEUTRAL/POSITIVE] – Astius doesn't really lean on the issue of the Legion; he likes that they defeated the Thalmor, but doesn't really bother with them either way.

    »Falmer [NEUTRAL] – Astius sees the Falmer as not quite human, and thus while they can be a nuisance, he doesn't hate them for actions they cannot fully control.

    » The Thieves Guild [STRONGLY DISLIKES] – Astius considers theft to be evil, but he has not had any encounters with the Guild; if he had, they would be outright enemies.

    » Fighters Guild [NEUTRAL] – Astius sees that warriors can be valuable - he himself fights for what he believes is right - but it appears to him that the Fighters Guild relishes too much in fighting for fighting's sake, and often take a less rational path through life.

    » Mages Guild [LIKES] – Astius likes that the Guild's main purpose is the pursuit of knowledge, but disagrees with the fact that it is backed by the Empire; he feels that government should not dip its hands into independent study.

    » The Dark Brotherhood [STRONGLY DISLIKES] – Like the Thieves Guild, Astius has had no outright confrontation with the Brotherhood, but he feels that they are evil for their use of force without a just cause.

    COMBAT
    Astius was trained in, and later honed on his own, two distinct combat styles that he alternates between: Battlemage and Assassin. When he wears his set of heavy armor, he wields both his longsword and a powerful combination of fire and ice magic - combined and both casted on one hand, they serve as an effective weapon that pays homage to the Dwemer: steam magic. He is very skilled in one-handed combat, destruction and block. When he is in his assassin's light armor, however, his style changes; he still uses some steam magic, but focuses on not being seen, and when he is seen he resorts to using the Saber of Mrunac and his wrist crossbow, coupled with some skill in acrobatics, athletics, and martial arts to make up for the lessened protection. He is not often discovered, however, being a skilled sneak, and he uses his crossbow and hidden wrist blade to do a job quick and quiet. Among his assassin gear are also some smoke bombs, potions, and poisons, which he all crafts by hand. Alchemy and smithing are some of his skills outside of combat.

    HISTORY
    » EARLY LIFE
    Astius was born into a wealthy family in the Jerall Mountains - they had made their fortune in trade in the past, but in Astius' day they had left the Imperial trade scene. Instead, they lived on their clan plantation village secluded in a valley. They had taken to hoarding their coin, and used the plantation to live self-sufficiently. The vast majority of the large Aerius clan lived in the village in what was effectively a cult community. His dogmatic family hated the 'faithless' Imperial civilization, and having the resources to do something about it, it was not long before Astius was born that one of the patriarchs decided they would turn their cult militant. The family began to build a small private army of 'crusaders' - when Astius was ten, the 'crusaders' began to raid small country villages, and despite being raised in a cult, Astius hated what they were doing. They were attacking people who had done nothing wrong over beliefs that he could not understand - his hyper-religious upbringing caused Astius to grow up and reject all religion, aware but uncaring that gods did exist. He instead found solace in the very small presence of Dwemer ruins that were within the area of the family's property he was permitted to explore; it was simply a small shrine and a single chamber, but Astius found within a distraction from his cruel and backwards life - both entertainment and awe in Dwemer technology, and a new lease on life in Dwemer philosophy. As he entered his teens, Astius entered training as a 'crusader.'

    » LATER LIFE
    Astius proved to be a fast learner of combat skills in his family's watchful eye, and of philosophy and mechanics outside their view. They taught him to fight in just about any way he might need to as a fanatic soldier - and when he was 17, he turned it on the cult. He escaped in the dead of night, but he was detected leaving and did not make it out easily; he had to fight his way through a house-full of zealous warriors, and during this escape he gained the scar on his right pectoral he has now. Out of the compound, he headed off into the wilderness of the Jerall Mountains, managing to use information on stars he found in his Dwemer chamber to walk southwest to the Colovian Highlands, eluding his family and staying in the wild so as not to inadvertently bring his family's wrath down on a city or town. He eventually came to the Dwemer ruin where he lives today - one of the few to be found in Cyrodiil - which contained a massive fortress with a full armory, crafting facility, automated training ground, living quarters, occulory, and telescope. It proved to be perfect for Astius, who quickly got the lay of the place and set to training and equipping himself to stop people like his family - and one day, his family themselves - from doing any more harm.

    » JOINING THE VIGILUM DRACONIS
    After he had taken over his Dwemer ruin and gotten everything he needed to fight people like those who controlled his childhood, Astius decided it was time to begin gathering information on who would be his first target; he headed east to Chorrol for answers, making sure always to wear his heavy armor - he wanted only to be known by his affinity for the Dwemer as 'The Dwemer Sentinel.' Besides, while the people might benefit from his work, Astius did it for himself, and he decided that the people didn't need to trouble themselves with that knowledge, nor did he need to trouble himself with the possibility of being named a heretic. In Chorrol, he discovered that there was a large witches' coven somewhere to the south that was continually terrorizing the citizens of both Kvatch and Chorrol - Astius was able to find that they were headquartered at Fort Hastrel. The Imperial went to the fort and cleared the coven, which was one of the largest in western Cyrodiil, heading to Kvatch and then Chorrol after the battle, in order to leave both cities with two of the four Hagravens' heads that he had lopped off. After this, the Dwemer Sentinel's deeds became celebrated; among the persecuted he was held in high regard because he professed, quite controversially, that no one had a claim to his soul but himself. As the reach of the Sentinel expanded, the Empire finally decided that they had to track down this anonymous man and offer him the title of Primarch. He has been a member four and a half years now, and is quite well known for his work in Uriel V's recent conquests, as well as a few other missions.

    EQUIPMENT IMAGES

    The Saber of Mrunac - unlike the image, this will be all the color of Dwemer metal and the frill will be more minimal.

    The Assassin Armor - differently from the image, Astius wears more pieces of light armor over the robes, offering more protection. The black in the image would actually be gold-colored.
     

    Mr.Self Destruct

    Chosen Undead
    Maric Cato
    The Slave
    dao-warden-face.jpg

    » NAME Maric
    » ALIAS The Slave, Rogue Blade
    » AGE 28
    » BIRTH DATE 13th of Sun's Dawn, 3E 260
    » BIRTH PLACE Dragontail Mountains, Hammerfell
    » BIRTH SIGN The Warrior
    » ORIGIN Imperial
    » CLASS Knight
    » GENDER Male
    » HEIGHT 6'2
    » WEIGHT 190 lbs.
    » BMI 24.4
    » LATERALITY Right handed
    » SEXUALITY Heterosexual
    » MARTIAL STATUS Single
    » AFFILIATION Vigilum Draconis, formerly the Blades and the Imperial Legion
    » AFFLICTIONS None
    » RELIGION Though not very religious, Maric believes in a higher power

    「APPEARANCE」

    » HAIR Kept short and cropped
    » EYE COLOR Blue
    » SKIN COLOR Tan
    » BUILD Muscular, Maric takes care to keep in shape and remain as fit as possible.
    » SCARS Maric's back is covered by a particularly gruesome set of whip scars he received as a child. Years of combat has also given him his fair share of other scars, which can be found all over his body.
    » ATTIRE — Maric wears a set of armor consisting of mithril chainmail and light skyforge steel plating. His armor is some of the best one could afford, and as well as being resilient to damage the set is very practical and surprisingly lightweight. On his breastplate, the Imperial Dragon is emblazoned in crimson and gold trimmings. He was issued such armor upon becoming an Imperial Primarch.

    「PERSONALITY」

    » POSITIVE TRAITS Maric is fiercely intelligent, loyal and disciplined, adhering to a strict sense of justice. Maric is also a capable and adept leader, who can instill a sense of courage and comradery.
    » NEGATIVE TRAITS His no-nonsense, regimental viewpoint of things can often lead to clashes with others. He can also be quite stubborn, and equally impatient when dealing with other people.
    » LIKES Studying military strategy, reading, horseback riding, sparring, training, exploring
    » DISLIKES Slavers, criminals, mines, caverns, seeing evil prevail
    » FEARS That his parents died without dignity
    » ASPIRATIONS To be at peace with himself and lay his inner demons to rest
    » QUIRKS Chewing on his nails to keep them short

    The years Maric spent in the military have molded him into a very disciplined and regimented individual. Though he tends to be a rather serious and deliberate person, Maric does know how to let loose once in a while and enjoy a drink with a few friends. His experiences as a slave have rendered him distrustful of others, and for years before becoming an Imperial Legate, Maric had issues with authority figures that he struggles to repress even to this day. He tends to be on his own most of the time, keeping to himself as he would explore and adventure. At times, feelings of loneliness would catch up with him and Maric would find himself longing for companionship, but the weathered warrior would always force his feelings away.

    「COMBAT DIAGNOSTIC」

    » FIGHTING STYLE – Maric is a very experienced and rugged warrior, with years of combat under his belt. Possessing a natural talent for battle, his finesse with a blade made him quite popular with his commanding officers, and Maric quickly rose through the ranks of the Imperial Legion. Under pressure, Maric is able to keep a level head and his wits about him. He prefers to use deliberate tactics when engaging targets, and as well as being a skilled combatant he is also an exceptional strategist, with experience in commanding troops. He prefers to use a single sword in battle, adopting defensive stances and sizing up his opponents before moving in for the kill.

    » SKILLS

    Master
    » Blades - From a young age, Maric showed promise in sword combat. Training was a breeze for Maric, who found that maneuvering and striking with a sword came very naturally to him. It's an art he's near perfected throughout the years, and his ability with a blade is legendary. He doesn't wield

    » Athletics - Training with the both the Legion and the Blades has sculpted Maric into a very fit, very athletic person who is in their peak physical condition.

    Expert
    » Light Armor - Maric has always preferred to stay mobile and light on his feet, unlike most Imperial Legionaries, he always dressed in lightweight armor. He thought it better to be able to dodge and parry oncoming blows, rather than absorb them through heavily armored plates.

    » Sneak - Maric's time training as a Blades agent taught him the importance of stealth, and he's honed his ability to remain undetected and deliver the first strike through trial and error. If the opportunity presents itself, Maric will always try and slip by undetected, or lurk in the shadows until he's able to get the drop on an opponent.

    Adept

    » Speechcraft - Maric knows a thing or two about making people talk, whether they want to or not.
    » Security - Maric's training as a Blades agent also gave him some knowledge of picking locks, and while he's capable of getting by most locks it's still a difficult task for him.

    Apprentice
    » Marksman - Maric can hold his own with a bow and arrow, although it's definitely not his strong suit. While he prefers to use his sword, he can resort to using a bow if need be.

    » Block - Maric knows how to use a shield in battle, although he has little experience in actually using them. He regards them as being too bulky and heavy, and that they slow you down too much.

    「HISTORY」

    » BEFORE BIRTH - Although Maric never really knew his parents, he was descended from a long line of distinguished Imperial servicemen. His father, Cyrus, was a third generation Imperial forester, who retired from the job after an injury involving an ambush party of bandits. After the incident he narrowly survived, he left the Legion to set upon a job as a caravaneer. While traveling Tamriel with a small crew of hired workers, he would later meet his future wife, Kaitlyn. She came from a rich and prestigious family with ties to Imperial politics, who expected that she marry a man who came from nobility and title. Kaitlyn resented her family, and was quite rebellious to them. When they rejected Cyrus, she ran away with him and his caravan, certain that he was the one for her.

    Sadly, the tale of the two lovers would come to a tragic end as the caravan crossed into Hammerfell. It was there, in the rocky outcroppings of the Dragontail Mountains, where they were ambushed by slavers. Cyrus was killed trying to defend the caravan, and the other hired men either shared his fate or were captured. Kaitlyn was defiled, before being dragged off with the other men who had been captured. However, there was one thing the slavers didn't know, Kaitlyn was pregnant with Cyrus' child.

    They were taken to a mine, which burrowed into the mountainsides of the Dragontail peaks. Here, the Empire had little authority, and the practice of slavery and other crimes was commonplace in the mountain ranges of Hammerfell. The mine was prospected by Al Mulin, a cruel and ambitious man who made sure that his slaves lived as miserable of an existence as possible. He hoped to find a large score of gold in the mountain ranges, and so he dedicated everything towards his dream of living lavishly, surrounded by his riches. The slaves were simply a means to an end.

    Months went by, and people began to notice that Kaitlyn was pregnant. At first they suspected she was pregnant with a slaver's child, but she was certain that it was Cyrus'. However, because she was pregnant, she would no longer be able to work. Al Mulin decreed that she was to be given no further food or other resources, and that she would be left to die of starvation. Though, her fellow workers instead brought her their own food. For those slaves, the child had to live, it had become a sign of hope.

    » CHILDHOOD [14 years] – Maric was born on 13th of Sun's Dawn, 3E 260. Despite all odds, he came into this world, he survived. His mother, unfortunately, did not. Kaitlyn died giving birth to the boy, which left Maric to be raised by the other slaves. They made efforts to keep Maric's existence a secret from the Slavers, and for a few years they managed to get by without incident, but it wasn't long before the guards caught on. Al Mulin was furious, and he contemplated killing the child to send a message, but decided that a new worker would be better for him. He allowed Maric to be raised by the slaves.

    Taking most of the responsibility of raising a child was an elderly Redguard man named Caleb. As a young man, he was a sailor and a privateer, and he raised the young boy on tales of sailing the high seas and doing battle with corsairs and pirates. He filled in the gap for Maric, acting as a father figure for the young boy and trying to help the child understand what was happening, where he was, where his parents were. Against his better judgement, Caleb told Maric the truth. His parents were dead. This saddened the boy immensely, but Caleb didn't think it'd help to lie to the boy. He comforted Maric when he could, realizing that it might have been better to leave some things unsaid.

    When he turned 8, he began accompanying Caleb to the underground stream which ran through the mountain to pan for gold, which they almost never found. The guards there were much more lenient then the guards deeper underground, who surveyed the men who rock mined with pickaxes.

    The years dragged by, and Maric found himself longing to escape. Many had tried before, and every attempt had failed. When he turned 12, the guards began sending him to the underground tunnels to mine with a pickaxe. Here, his thoughts turned dark, he was regularly whipped and beaten, and any hope began to leave the boy. Caleb did his best, but the time Maric spent in those tunnels changed him forever.

    Al Mulin personally tortured Maric, beating him savagely and taunting him, calling him a filthy orphan and regaling himself with tales of how he killed his parents. Maric vowed that one day, he would kill Al Mulin.

    When he turned 14, a riot broke out in the slave pens. Maric was separated from Caleb in the chaos as violence erupted between the slaves and the guards. Certain that he'd be dead if he stayed, Maric made a dash for the exit, sprinting through winding tunnels and making his way past mobs of combatants until he saw a light at the end of the chasm, sunlight.

    He stepped into the sun for the first time in his life, and ran into the desert as a free man.

    » LIFE AS A THIEF [2 years] - Maric made his way to the nearby city of Skaven, where he felt confused and overwhelmed. He had never seen anything like it, the crowds of people, the buildings, the curved swords, it all amazed him. At first, he tried getting help for those in the mines, frantically trying to convince the guards that an illegal slaving ring was in the mountains, but they dismissed the young man and his claims. Angry and flustered, Maric decided to continue onward, venturing from city to city.

    Almost two years passed, two years that Maric survived by stealing food and thieving. He drifted across Hammerfell, taking what he could when he could, and eluding guards. He learned that the Dragontail Mountains were regarded as unconquered territory, and outside of the Empire's jurisdiction. They wouldn't be able to help him.

    » THE LEGION (7 years) - One day, in the bustling port city of Sentinel, Maric decided to steal from an Imperial Legionary. What caught Maric's eye was the dagger fastened to the soldier's belt, it's hilt gleaming silver and encrusted with rubies. Maric, however, bit off more then he could chew, and he was caught the moment he laid his hands on the dagger.

    The legionary looked down upon the young Maric, jesting that Maric's punishment would be the removal of his hands. Maric didn't catch on that it was merely a joke, and began pleading with the legionary. The Imperial laughed and shook his head, assuring that Maric could keep his hands as long as he left behind thievery. That stranger would inspire Maric to join the Legion, which he did shortly afterwards. With nothing else going on in his life, and a chance to bring justice to Al Mulin, Maric couldn't resist.

    He breezed through training, proving himself a natural at blade combat. It almost felt unfair, at 16 Maric was seemingly leagues ahead of his fellow auxiliaries, who averaged at around age 20. In a mere 6 months, he completed basic training and was sent over seas to fight in Cathnoquey. Although anxious about seeing real combat for the first time in his life, Maric felt confident in himself and his abilities.

    The fighting was brutal, many died in the initial battles against the Tsaesci forces. But Maric shined through, personally felling many enemies and catching the eye of even the Emperor himself. He was immediately promoted to the rank of Imperial Prefect, and personally congratulated by Uriel V himself.

    Cathnoquey was conquered not long after, with the remaining Tsaesci being driven back to the mainland. Maric saw more battle, building upon his reputation even more. By the time the Imperial Flag was driven into Cathnoquey, Maric had garnered the title of Tribune.

    The island of Yneslea fell swiftly, with Maric at the front line. By this time, many of the Emperor's senior officers were already recommending him for the Vigilum Draconis, and after Yneslea was conquered Maric was promoted to the rank of Legate at only age 20. Making him the youngest Imperial Legate in the history of the Septim Empire.

    His title was put to the test in the Imperial conquest of Esroniet, where he commanded a small legion of troops. It was his actions that led to the capture of Black Harbor, but in the battle he was critically wounded. Three arrows had pierced his torso, and he narrowly survived, saved only by Mages utilizing restoration magic. The success at Black Harbor made Maric famous, and while healing he was visited by Uriel V himself.

    Maric told the Emperor his story, where he came from and the environment he grew up in. Uriel V showed sympathy for Maric, who had lived such a difficult life, and although he knew the Dragontail Mountains were unconquered lands he decided that he'd name Maric a Blade and send him home to Tamriel to put a stop to the slavery. Graciously, Maric accepted, and he was shipped back to Cyrodiil the day after.

    » THE BLADES, REVENGE, AND THE LEAGUE (5 years) Maric trained at Cloud Ruler temple, further honing his abilities as a swordsmen and also learning the skills which came with being a Blades agent. While he trained, the Blades network of spies was hard at work. Scouts were sent to the mountains, and only abandoned mines were found, devoid of life.


    Al Mulin was now an illustrious and wealthy noble, living on a private villa built on Stros M'kai. In the time Maric had been gone, he had scored a huge amount of gold beneath the Dragontail mountains, and was now living his dream. It wasn't hard for the Blades to track him down, but the wealthy nobleman denied any affiliation with slaves. The Empire's hands were tied, they needed evidence to bring him down, and despite Maric's heated arguments with high command, his senior officers ruled that Al Mulin was not to be touched.

    And so, Maric waited, he waited for evidence that never came. He spent years further honing his abilities, his skills surpassing that of even senior Blades agents. Eventually, the war effort overseas began to calm as the Emperor made preparations to return home to begin preparations for an assault on Akavir. Maric, along with an envoy of other Blades, were sent to the port city of Sentinel to meet the Emperor as his ship docked.

    As soon as the group crossed into Hammerfell, Maric immediately broke off from the envoy. The other agents attempted to stop him, but Maric proved to be the superior duelist and non lethally incapacitated them. He set off towards Stros M'kai with one goal in mind, kill Al Mulin.

    Maric stormed the villa by himself, slaughtering every guard that attempted to stop him as he cut a path of destruction through Al Mulin's mansion. In his final moments, the slaver pleaded for his life. "Look! Look around you, look what you've helped me done! Rich beyond my wildest dreams, all of this was because of my workers! Because of you!"

    Maric's responded, "You're right, you deserve this."

    With a single blow, Maric decapitated Al Mulin in a flurry of blood. Sending his head rolling down the steps of his chambers.

    Before burning the villa to the ground, Maric took Al Mulin's journal; which provided the evidence needed to prove Mulin was a slaver. By the time Maric was done, all that was left of Mulin and his estate were ashes.

    Maric immediately turned himself in, and was imprisoned in Sentinel's jail. Despite the evidence found in Mulin's journal, Maric was given an execution date for treachery, insubordination, dereliction, assaulting a senior officer, and a number of other charges. He was saved by Emperor Uriel V himself, who intervened before Maric could be hanged. The Emperor instead, offered Maric a spot in Vigilum Draconis, the League, a position he gladly accepted. Now, Maric is one of the Primarchs. Tamriel's greatest warriors chosen by the Emperor himself to guard the Ruby Throne, and to bring swift justice to the enemies of the Empire.
     

    EpicVakarian

    Calibration-Master General
    Is there any places left? I might put in a CC when I can, if it's still open.
     

    T. Rakinson

    A Brute among Beasts
    do we have do be imperials or an Empire- friendly race?
     

    Mr.Self Destruct

    Chosen Undead
    Recruiting is closed, guys. Sorry, but only certain people will be participating.

    Recruiting may open under certain circumstances, however, and if it does I'll be sure to let you guys know.
     

    Farthlion

    I swear to drunk, I'm not Talos.
    Image is still to come...
    Nike
    [IMAGE COMING]​
    INFO
    » NAME Nike
    » ALIAS None
    » AGE Appearance is 25 years old, aged 145 years (For TGA:II) aged 26 (for TL)
    » BIRTH SIGN The Warrior
    » RACE Imperial
    » BIRTH DATE Last Seed 1, 3E 263
    » BIRTH PLACE Imperial City, Cyrodii
    » CLASS Warrior
    » GENDER Female
    » HEIGHT 5’7
    » WEIGHT 150
    » BMI 23.5
    » BUILD Physically fit
    » LATERALITY Right-handed
    » SEXUALITY Heterosexual
    » MARITAL STATUS Single
    » PROPERTIES None
    » AFFILIATION Cyrodiil's arena faction
    » AFFLICTIONS Vampirism (Appears about 25)
    » RELIGION Nike’s not necessarily religious towards any deity, but she has a particular interest in Akatosh.
    » HABITS While usually more than friendly and kind to others, Nike is prone to violent outbursts that get quickly out of hand. She isn’t necessarily one to love violence and gore, but she is simply violent by habit due to her upbringing.
    » HOBBIES Nike enjoys watching fights and taking part in them. While she doesn't wish to go back to her violent lifestyle in the arena, she undeniably loves the thrill when she is able to bloody her sword.

    PERSONALITY
    » POSITIVE TRAITS Friendly, strong-willed, determined, helpful
    » NEGATIVE TRAITS Violent, overly friendly, disregards personal space, a creature of habit
    » LIKES Winning, blood, fighting, fighters, alcohol, people
    » DISLIKES Losing, not being trusted, wimps, vampires, evil
    » FEARS Death, rejection
    » ASPIRATIONS Nike’s greatest aspiration is to visit every inch of Tamerial and beyond.

    APPEARANCE
    » HAIR LENGTH For lack of better wording, Nike's hair is grown out to a length just below the armpit at its longest points. However, years of fighting in the arena has resulted in an uneven and choppy cut, due mainly to it being sliced off mid-battle.
    » HAIR COLOR Dirty-blonde
    » FACIAL HAIR None
    » EYE COLOR Brown
    » SKIN COLOR Tan
    » SCARS It would have been a miracle if Nike had gotten by in the arena without a single scar. Nike hasn't been witness to any miracles, and thus has quite a few scars. The most prominent of her collection are a gash from an axe upon her left shoulder, a large scar within her ribcage from a single sword thrust, and a small one across her cheek from when her helmet was knocked off in a battle.
    » ATTIRE [CASUAL] Casual attire for Nike is battle attire. She never is without her armor, as it has grown to be a part of her.

    RELATIONS
    » Imperial Legion [LIKES] – Nike believes in loyalty, and she is loyal to her people and her city of birth, the capital of Cyrodiil.


    » The Thieves Guild [DISLIKES] – Nike believes that the Thieves Guild is made up of cowards who sneak around and avoid fighting directly. However, she dislikes making enemies, and will only express her opinion of the group as "dislike" over hate.


    » Fighters Guild [LIKES] – Nike respects these warriors beyond reason.


    » Mages College [NEUTRAL] – Never liking magic herself, Nike never had any interest in the College. However, she does respect how powerful mages can be.


    »Thalmor [ENEMIES] Nike openly hates the Thalmor. Growing up in the capital of Cyrodiil cause Nike to be an extremely loyal Imperial, and therefore extremely against and angry at the Thalmor for their actions.


    » The Dark Brotherhood [NEUTRAL] – This organization is rather ruthless, but Nike doesn't feel right to judge the assassins since up until recently, she too made a living off of killing.


    SKILLS/COMBAT DIAGNOSTICS
    MASTER
    » Blocking - Nike would be nothing without her shield. By far, her greatest strength and advantage is her natural ability to anticipate and block incoming attacks.
    » One-handed swords - It's a big step down from her blocking abilities, but her sword skills are Nike's next greatest advantage in a fight. She isn't afraid to slice, stab, and break down her enemy in a gruesome manner with her sword, which is the kind of confidence a lot of her enemies have hesitation with.

    EXPERT
    » Heavy Armor - Nike considers her armor to be a second layer of skin. She knows every inch of it: from the weaknesses between plates, to where it is strongest. Her understanding of her armor allowed her to have a successful reign as a champion within the arena.
    » Endurance - Nike boasts a resilient spirit which seems to allow her to work through pain.

    ADEPT
    » Speech - Nike has a lot to say, and every once in a while she'll say something that actually seems well thought out.
    » Smithing - In order to understand and know her armor so well, she had to be taught the basics of smithing and craftsmanship.

    APPRENTICE
    » Strength - Nike is quite strong for a women. Although she may not exactly look it, she can rival most men in a weaponless brawl. Her only problem with her strength is that she needs to be careful not to reopen a wound on her ribcage from her final arena fight.
    » Archery - Nike ultimately dislikes the idea of such a painless weapon like the bow, but she knows how to use one.

    NOVICE
    » Two-handed Weaponry - Being a warrior, she's tried it all.
    » Alchemy - After suffering a grave wound that ended her arena career, Nike had to learn alchemy in order to aid its healing.


    » FIGHTING STYLE – Nike becomes a completely different person when fighting. Normally, she is a friendly and kind woman, but when facing an opponent, she is pointlessly violent. Nike is a close range fighter with a lack of sympathy and consideration for her enemy. She will often find the most brutal way to take down an enemy to be the most conventional for her, purely out of habit.


    » ATTRIBUTES
    » Health – Denotes vitality and the amount of damage able to be taken.
    » Magicka – Denotes amount of magicka and the magical capacity to cast spells.
    » Stamina – Denotes amount of physical energy and the ability to perform strenuous activities.
    » Strength – Denotes physical strength and the ability to deal damage with melee attacks and block melee attacks.
    » Endurance – Denotes physical toughness, the ability to withstand pain, illness, and fatigue.
    » Agility – Denotes balance, coordination, reflex, speed, and steadiness in combat.
    » Intelligence – Denotes ability to learn, reason, plan, solve problems, strategize, ability to comprehend complex ideas and general mental capability.
    » Will – Denotes magical strength, the general ability to cast spells and magicka regeneration.
    » Spirit – Denotes mental toughness, willpower and the ability to keep fighting past fatigue, injuries and one’s own limitations.


    Health ■■■■■□□□□□
    Magicka □□□□□□□□□□
    Stamina ■■■■□□□□□□
    Strength ■■■■■■■□□□
    Endurance ■■■■■■□□□□
    Agility ■■■■■■□□□□
    Intelligence ■■■■□□□□□□
    Will □□□□□□□□□□
    Spirit ■■■■■■■■■■

    HISTORY
    » BIRTH – Injured from a freak training accident earlier that year, Orval was an an Imperial spearman who's dreams and aspirations of becoming an officer in the Imperial Legion were shattered before he even reached 30. Devastated by the loss of one of his arms, Orval's life took a turn for the worst, and the hopeful prospect began a life of drinking, fighting, and sleeping around with any woman who wouldn't reject him. One of these women happened to be 24 year old Lethe, a daughter of a wealthy family within the Imperial City.

    Upon realizing she was carrying a child, Lethe's family disowned her. Lethe took a job at the city's arena as a gatekeeper, taking bets on the countless fights. This job was able to provide her with enough income to support herself and her future child. Another woman who worked at the arena as bladesmaster offered to be her midwife. Immediately, she noticed that Lethe's stomach was unusually large for her current stage of pregnancy. Either something was incredibly wrong with the child, or there would most likely be more than one baby on the way. The truth came when Lethe gave birth to two healthy children. The first was a large, brown haired boy, while the second was wide eyed girl. The lack of experience that her midwife held didn't allow the new family to have a happy ending however. There was a third, less healthy child on the way whose condition caused complications during the process of delivery, and inexperience ultimately was the difference for both the mother and baby. Both Lethe and this child didn't live through the night.

    The midwife who had assisted Lethe during the final hours of her life took both surviving children in out of guilt. She named the boy Zale and the girl Nike. The midwife was unable to support both children with her job at the arena, and soon found the support of one of the fighters within the faction. Antus was a stern man with a son of his own, and he immediately grew fond of the two adopted children.

    The couple married after only several months together, but their time was cut short unexpectedly. During a fight where the Grand Champion of the arena was being challenged by a complete underdog, all hell broke loose. Many bets were placed on the Grand Champion, who would surely annihilate his unsuspecting foe. However, the underdog proceeded to outwit the reigning champ, and defeated him. The crowd who had come to watch the fight immediately went into a frenzy, all of their surefire bets on the champ now immediately lost. Things became violent quickly, and Nike's adopted mother was part of the casualties that had fallen on the Imperial City that night. Antus was now baring the weight of raising the babies that she had chosen to adopt.


    » CHILDHOOD – Upon realization that he was now responsible for raising three children, Antus immediately retired from the arena. He gained a new, less dangerous position of a trainer of some of the less experienced members of the arena faction. His own son was only two years older than Nike and Zale, so he was an able man when it came to the care of babies. Members of the arena would describe the single father as an attentive, but serious father who rarely smiled.

    Almost as immediately as Nike and Zale could walk and talk, they were given a much more free reign around the arena. Antus often felt so comfortable leaving the children around the place, which he often wouldn't feel worried if he didn't see them between when he arrived and when they left to go home. Naturally, the children were exposed to violence within the arena. Fights would be held, and they would watch. Bodies would be carried out of the pit in front of the three siblings, often displaying gruesome deaths before the toddlers' very eyes.

    At 8, Adrian was the first to pick up a dagger. As the eldest of the three, it was only natural that the others follow his lead as they "played", pretending to be fighters in the arena. Their enemies would be rats or bugs that lurked within the bloodworks. Adrian would often etch brutal examples of how to "properly" kill for his younger siblings - just like the fighters in the arena. The only one who seemed uncomfortable with taking a life was Zale, who often would get sick at the sight of blood.

    Antus did not discipline his children when he caught wind of their games. In fact, the man replaced their iron daggers with swords, and began to prepare them for killing their fellow man. It seemed extreme to teach these children the basics of how a body functioned, only for the purpose of killing in a more accurate manner. To Antus it was like passing on the family's greatest knowledge, and preparing them for a life that they seemed to have naturally embraced.


    » ARENA YEARS – Nike's first fight was at 13. Adrian had been successfully fighting for two years now, and she was prepared to live up to the standards he set in the arena. Everything she had learned was leading up to this very moment. It was the meaning of her existence. The pinnacle of her being.

    Nike was an underdog, laughed at as she entered the pit. Antus and his sons sat watching, their expressions unreadable from where she stood in the pit. Her opponent was a large man wielding a mace, and she was sure he would have felt bad for attempting to bash her skull with his weapon if he weren't about to be paid for it. Nike would grin as the man over swung on his first try, thrusting her sword between the man's breastplate and shoulder guards, stunning him before using all her strength to slam her shield into his head. A thud was heard as the helmet her opponent wore slammed against his skull, the pain and shock being so great that he dropped his mace and allowed Nike to go for the final blow. As she left the pit, she knew Antus would be angry at her for not immediately going for his throat.

    Nike's greatest aspirations were to be able to live up to the grand standards that Adrian had set. Antus always seemed to be proud of him and show him the most praise of the three siblings. She yearned for that kind of compliment and appreciation, but such heights were beyond her reach. This frustrated Nike, who didn't live for the fight, but instead for her father's praise. In order to earn his praise, she had to not make any mistakes within the pit... and to stoop to Adrian's level of violence. Her eldest brother had a disregard for life. Specializing in his work with knives, he would often go the extra length to cause pain and prolong the suffering for his unfortunate opponent.

    Zale was the strongest of the siblings, having the muscles to wield a battle-axe at 13, but he was also the most gentle. He preferred swift, quick deaths to his opponents, and had the mindset that he was fighting to defend, unlike his siblings who were fighting to kill. He hated it though, and expressed this to Nike several times, but she didn't understand. Killing came as second nature to her. It was built into her to the point where her challenge wasn't killing, it was how she killed. An art she strived to perfect.

    Nike became a Champion of the arena at 18, becoming known for her bloodstained shield, which she never washed once. Most citizens of the Imperial City would recognize her wooden shield as she carried it on her back, and attempt to avoid Nike, knowing of her violence within the arena. However, the Imperial was a friendly and relatively kind woman. She would often congratulate other fighters in the arena, offering to buy them a round of whatever they fancied at the nearby tavern after a battle. She had a massive amount of respect for the Imperial Legion, and would thank veterans and taking the time to visit the wives of soldiers sent out into battle. Nike was a nice person, just with a natural instinct to want to spill blood. The title of Champion was a huge honor, but her accomplishment was overshadowed by the fact that Adrian had become the Grand Champion a week later. Zale eventually took on the title as well, but that was nearly 5 years later.

    Zale and Nike were close. It was almost as if Adrian was a third wheel when he was around, silently watching the two blood-siblings enjoy themselves. He would study them as if they were some type of phenomena, two fighters who were friends. Zale was a surprisingly great leader, his interest piqued by the Legion, watching wishfully day after day as a groups of soldiers would march through the city. The male Imperial had brief displays of extraordinary leadership and bravery, training new fighters of the arena as well as breaking up brawls within the spectators. Nike remembered the day that Zale was turned down when he applied to join the Legion. He held sorrow in his eyes, and had seemed to lose hope. Nonetheless, he still fought bravely and with mercy, something that was not abundant within the arena.

    The two were a perfect match when it came to fighting together. Doubles matches, as they were referred to by the fighters, were a simple two versus two battle that was won when both of the teammates on the opposing side were killed. They were fantastic as a team, taking advantage of their years of training together to understand each and every strategy that could be played. Most of the time, one of them would initiate the battle, while the other would pick up non-verbal cues and swiftly take down their opponent in perfect harmony. It was like they were two machines, programmed perfectly to fight together. They always knew where the other was in the arena, what they were doing, and why they were doing it.


    Nike just turned 24 when Zale challenged Adrian. It was one of the few moments in her life where she visibly saw Antus smile. The old man was finding few things which seemed to amuse him in life lately, and apparently watching his children fighting against each other to the death was one of those few things. Nike immediately knew Zale wouldn't stand a chance unless Adrian could be disarmed somehow. The eldest sibling's intelligence and natural instincts when fighting were far superior to his younger brother's. This strategy for beating Adrian wasn't beyond hope though. With Zale's pure strength and ability to make wielding a battle-axe look weightless, the elder could fall.

    The day of the fight was the only day Nike had ever felt worried. Never before had she lacked confidence for her brothers in the pit, but now it was inevitable that one was going to meet his end. Adrian entered, and the crowd cheered wildly for their Grand Champion. Zale attacked immediately with a powerful swing of his axe. The elder brother seemed like he didn't expect the force of the impact that Zale's battle-axe had on his swords, and consequently fell backwards, hitting the wall of the pit with a thud. Cheers sounded as Zale went for another strike, the fear in his eyes visible from even where the spectators watched in anticipation. Nike's eyes widened as she saw the critical mistake Zale was making; by attacking so openly, he disregarded the fact that he was now in the proximity of Adrian's blades. Zale seemed to freeze in his tracks as he stood over his elder sibling. Adrian stood up emotionlessly as he gripped the blade within his palm. Nike could see that he had thrust it into his brother's chest, and was now going to show his violent side.

    Nike gathered Zale's things from the pit after the fight, attempting to contact someone to figure out how she could get him properly buried. She was proud of Zale for challenging Adrian. It was brave and an honorable way to die. She would have personally preferred Adrian take him down than his death be at the hands of a stranger. However she also wasn't going to forgive Adrian for treating it like another routine kill, prolonging the pain and working without mercy.

    Nike was almost immediately paired with a Nord named Adidas for her doubles matches in replacement of Zale. She already knew him, and was one of the few fighters that the Imperial actually held a strong dislike for within the arena. This wasn’t because he was arrogant or mean, it was simply due to the fact that he was a mercenary at heart, and Nike was not fond of the mercenary-like values he held. When they had first practiced together, Nike compared him to a brick wall: No matter how many relentless attacks she forced upon him, he did not lower his shield nor move into an offensive mode. It was maddening and did not start out their partnership on the right foot.

    Their first fight was unlike anyone watching could have predicted. Nike had a grand reputation within the Arena, and Adidas was a very successful up-and-coming fighter. Unlike Zale, whom she had worked with in perfect harmony, the two new teammates had absolutely no communication and teamwork. Instead of being against their enemy, they seemed to be more concerned about their dislike for one another. By the end of the match, Adidas had suffered a grave injury.

    While her partner survived the first fight, their future battles ended in a similar fashion. One or both of them would end up injured due to lack of communication and general willingness to work together. Within the time period of only a few battles, Nike’s reputation was becoming a joke within the arena. A Champion who could barely win in doubles matches was unworthy for the position. Nike hated the disapproval and mockery she received from Antus. All she wished was for his reassurance and a pat on the back, but he never offered it.

    The stress Nike continuously held as she search for Antus’s approval forced the Nord to take action. A night before their next battle, Nike grabbed and Adidas and took him into the bloodworks to train. It was the first time they had bothered to do so since their initial meeting. As Nike would slash and attack with her sword, she insulted, questioned, and repeatedly yelled at the silent Nord until he finally snapped. He attacked back, the frustration welling up to its peak and flooding out. Nike had broken through – a huge accomplishment. A friendship wasn’t necessarily born that day – not yet anyway – it was more of a mutual understanding. Nike didn’t condone stealing from the dead or taking up jobs for evil and unjust causes, but she understood that this was his version of “honor.” Anything to do with money was as fulfilling for him as it was for her to do good deeds.

    They began winning in a much more glorious fashion immediately. With understanding came more communication, trust, and success.

    Months after they had enjoyed their first actual success as a team, Nike and Adidas faced their greatest challenge yet. It originated in the Arena. Despite their great communication and outstanding victories, there were always cuts and bruises suffered within their doubles matches. Nike had been worried about a particular cut for several weeks. She had received the gash upon her right shoulder during a singles match against an axe wielder; while he wasn’t much of a challenge to dispatch, he ended up casting an odd spell in a final attempt of defending himself before the Imperial went for the fatal blow. The unusually pale skin around the wound was starting to concern her.

    She realized the problem was vampirism during a doubles match with Adidas. Blood splatter was a pretty common thing for fighters, and when her enemy’s blood managed to spray into her face, she immediately recognized the hunger and need for more which had to be satisfied.

    Adidas wasn’t talkative, but he was a rather smart Nord. Nike knew that he knew something was up when his friend. She had a slightly paler complexion and attitude, was less joyful and willing to clap the members of the blue team on the shoulder, and in a way, she seemed fearful and paranoid. Nike, not willing to confide in Adrian or Antus (in fear that they would show her even greater disapproval) turned to Adidas and told him of her problem. In what was really an unsurprising turn of events, Adidas seemed almost careless about her admission. Nike was at first angry, and even feeling betrayed due to the great amount of trust she had given Adidas, but realized that it was simply how the Nord was by nature. Everything she had been taught about the foul creature she had turned into had to do with them being evil and ruthless, and therefore it spurred a significant amount of inner conflict.

    He would never admit it to her, but Nike was almost certain Adidas cared. The next morning when Nike had awoken, a small vial of blood sat next to her bedside. There was only one person who could have known to bring it. Upon bringing up the event, Adidas remained silent and maintained a refusal to speak about it. The blood continued to show up though.

    Things began to drive Nike slightly crazy. Having to worry about feeding was a common and horrible thought that was stored within the back of her head throughout the day. It made her feel evil having to break the law in such an uncivilized manner. Most of all, it made her feel like she would never gain the approval of Antus. So she challenged Adrian.

    The arena spared no time scheduling the match between the siblings. Nike took her shield and sword in each hand, waiting for Adrian to attack first. The brother looked at her with the same violent glare which he had given the rats and bugs from the bloodworks all of those years ago. It hit Nike then that for Adrian, it was never about gaining Antus' approval. The skills and habits that Nike had been attempting to perfect in order to squeeze praise out of her father were natural for Adrian. He was violent by nature, while Nike was violent by habit. She blocked a flurry of sword slices, her brother's skill challenging her reaction time with each movement. A well timed block allowed Nike to catch him off balance, and she immediately went into attack mode. The elder had regained his footing, but was prepared for the attacks his sister had coming. The shifts in power continued, but every time one sibling would seem to gain an edge, there would be an exposed opening that the other would utilize. Finally, Adrian broke through her defenses. The wooden shield, bathed in blood, which she held in her left hand splintered apart by the impact of his sword. Wide eyed and shocked at this development, Nike didn't see the weapon in his other hand already heading for her ribs, a weak spot in her armor.

    Everything was suddenly numb as Nike watched her own brother twist the sword around a bit before pulling it out. She was at least able to register the fact that he walked away before doing any worse.


    » RECOVERY - PRESENT – Nike was certain she was dead when she woke up. It was impossible that she hadn't died from Adrian's attack. Arena fights only ended in death, and she was certain that Adrian wasn't the dead one at the end of the fight. Nike felt a heavy pressure around her ribcage, and realized that it was bound by something. Out of pure habit, the Imperial attempted to sit up in order to get a better look at it, but pain immediately pierced her entire body, causing Nike to scream in shock.

    A figure appeared from another room and Nike could now see she was within a temple. A pillow propped up her head, and a blanket covered most of her body. She felt odd without her armor. The figure approached and seemed to acknowledge her scream, but did not say anything. Typical Adidas. Nike wasn't dead. That was obvious. She just wasn't sure why she was alive.

    Adidas, in his customary few words, explained that he had managed to stabilize her condition before things became too grave.While Adidas refused to say much about the events directly after the fight, it was apparent that he had used an unusual amount of effort. For whatever reason, and by unknown means, he brought her to Skingrad, within the Great Chapel of Julianos where she received treatment from the healer on duty. She was lucky, he repeatedly would tell her during the year it took to fully recover. Adrian's sword had pierced her liver, but nothing else. Luckily the liver was one of the most resilient organs – even moreso for a vampire, and her condition was not beyond saving when he got to her. The main problem with the injury was the bleeding. Nike's liver was repaired enough with magic that it would be able to heal completely. The gaping wound within her ribcage was another story completely. Nike was bedridden for 5 months as it healed. Eventually she was able to get up, but not without a lot of pain and struggles for even the most simple of tasks.

    10 months later, and Nike was able to pursue getting back in shape. She rigorously trained with Adidas, figuring out how to move without being in pain and relearning her stamina limit. Nike was able to recreate her old armor set, smithing it along with another shield. This one was stronger and less prone to break on impact.

    Nike, holding a new appreciation for life, left approximately one year after the battle. She wouldn't go back to the arena for revenge; Nike had moved on and wanted to do more, to see all of the things she had been missing out on. Both her and Adidas left, coming up with a mutual plan to become mercenaries but, (as Nike would stress) they were only to do jobs for those that were deemed “good” and “honorable.” Their main client was a high ranking Imperial agent. He contracted the pair for several mission, each varying in difficulty and tasks that needed to be completed. One of these particular quests was to track down and eliminate a coven of vampires in Southern Skyrim.

    Nike was noticeably cautious and stressed by her condition still, and although Adidas would not say anything, it was quite frank it bothered him to see his friend this way. When they both finally found the location of the vampires, Adidas did something she didn't expect: He forced a vampire to bite him.

    She was at first angry and absolutely fuming with him for what he did. She owed him a lot for saving her life, and she absolutely didn’t want him to go through the same hell she was going through. In the end (and Nike would never admit it) it did end up working out quite well. Between the two, Adidas was the one who took up a more active part with vampire activities. It didn’t lie on his conscious nor bother him to have to gather blood in order to feed. He just wasn’t the same person as Nike, but in this case is wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

    Soon after, their Imperial client contacted them, stating he had dropped their names for a very unique mission...

    TRIVIA
    » Nike is the name of the Greek goddess of victory
    » Pallas, the father of Nike in mythology, was a titan known for using his spear. Orval has a meaning "spear strength" - which I found appropriate
    » Styx is the name of Nike's mother in Greek mythology. She is associated with water, thus the name "Lethe," which also has a Greek meaning pertaining to water
    » Kratos, said to be the sibling of Nike in mythology, is the god of strength. Zale was chosen as a name due to its meaning of strength in order to parallel with this piece of mythology
    » Zelos is a sibling of Nike in mythology, ruling over zeal. Adrian was chosen due to its meaning as "dark", as zeal can sometimes be a negative quality
    » Adidas and Nike are two shoe brands, who often compete against each other.
     

    Ponder

    International Man of Mystery
    Adidas
    INFO
    » NAME Adinor "Adidas" Dasgjornssonssonsson
    » ALIAS Scruffy
    » AGE 24 (144 for TGA)
    » RACE Nord
    » BIRTH DATE 3rd of Hearthfire, 3E 264
    » BIRTH PLACE West Weald, Cyrodiil
    » CLASS Warrior
    » GENDER Male
    » HEIGHT 5'9
    » WEIGHT 165
    » BMI 24.4
    » BUILD Svelte, Toned
    » LATERALITY Left-Handed
    » SEXUALITY Heterosexual
    » MARITAL STATUS Single (Pending response)
    » PROPERTIES None
    » AFFILIATION Cyrodiil Arena, Imperial Legion, Skingrad Farmers Association, Wielding West Wealders Shepherding Team, Vigilum Draconis
    » AFFLICTIONS Vampirism
    » RELIGION None (Pending response)
    » HABITS Periodically writes letters home, although he rarely sends them
    » HOBBIES Shepherding, Hero-ing, Drawing, Fighting, Proposing, Cats
    PERSONALITY
    » TRAITS Calm, Quiet, Reserved, Determined, Precise, Patient, Efficient, Analytic (generally), Pragmatic, Cynical
    » LIKES Sheep, Cats, Tradition, Gold, Art, Architecture, Girls
    » AMBIVALENT Fighting
    » DISLIKES Wolves, Dragons, Wolves Disguised as Sheep, Wolves Disguised as Dragons, Dragons Disguised as Wolves, The Gold Coast, Kvatch, Anvil, Girls
    » DISTRUSTS Spindles, Maidens Trapped in Towers, Pig Farmers, Destiny, Girls
    » FEARS Taxes, Girls
    » ASPIRATIONS Get Rich, Find Love, Buy Flock, Win Regional Shepherding Tourney
    APPEARANCE
    jaak__truths_and_lies_by_charro_art-d4xmije.jpg

    (Image not owned my me, property of charro-art)

    » HAIR LENGTH Medium Length, Messy
    » HAIR COLOR Dark Brown
    » FACIAL HAIR Light Beard
    » EYE COLOR Green
    » SKIN COLOR Light, Flushed
    » SCARS/BIRTHMARKS Several small scars across chest, face and arms resulting from numerous fights in the Arena, Dragon of the Legion branded onto his left forearm, birthmark on his butt which, if you squint, looks vaguely like a crown.
    » ATTIRE [CASUAL] Like Nike, Adidas rarely leaves his armor. Unlike Nike, his armor is rather plain, being simple steel plate (think iron armor from Oblivion, but steel).

    SKILLS/COMBAT DIAGNOSTICS

    MASTER
    » One-Handed Sword - The core of Adidas' combat style, he uses his sword to thrust, parry and riposte with deft confidence. He also occasionally wields his sword with both hands when he really wants to impress.
    » Block - Shields are employed almost as an entirely defensive tool, used to deflect and create openings for the sword.
    » Herding Sheep - Years of practice has enabled Adidas to wield a crook and direct sheep with terrible skill.
    EXPERT
    » Alchemy - The former shepherd became necessarily familiar with all manner of herbs and potions while tending his father's flock, knowledge which greatly supplemented his medicinal skills.
    » Finesse - Adidas is an expert at gracefully and effectively sticking the pointy end exactly where he wants it to go.
    » Climbing the Tallest Tower
    ADEPT
    » Endurance - Decently hardy and resilient
    » Heavy Armor - Practice in the Arena has allowed him to becom relatively skilled with heavy armor, which he uses to his advantage.
    » Rescuing Fair Maidens
    APPRENTICE
    » Two-Handed - Practice with a shepherd's crook has allowed Adidas basic skill with two-handed weapons.
    » Smithing - Basic knowledge of armor and weapon upkeep.
    » Drawing - Can draw an incredibly lifelike sheep.
    NOVICE
    » Speech - Can hold a basic conversation when he wants to.
    » Getting Blessed/Cursed by Witches
    » Having a Destiny
    » Pricking Finger on Magic Spindles
    » Rescuing Fair Princes
    » Heroically Posing Whilst Fighting Dragons - A necessary skill for any would-be hero.
    » Dreaming of Treasure Buried Beneath Monuments in the Desert

    » FIGHTING STYLE –

    Adidas fights with deadly and calculating efficiency. He's a primarily defensive fighter, reactionary and adaptive, who focuses most of his effort into deflecting blows and creating openings. He doesn't relish violence, and uses his strong technique to end fights as quickly and painlessly as possible. However, he has large reserves of stamina, and while he can't take many direct hits he can patiently and effectively hold his position and form for an extended period of time.

    » ATTRIBUTES

    » Health – Denotes vitality and the amount of damage able to be taken.
    » Magicka – Denotes amount of magicka and the magical capacity to cast spells.
    » Stamina – Denotes amount of physical energy and the ability to perform strenuous activities.
    » Strength – Denotes physical strength and the ability to deal damage with melee attacks and block melee attacks.
    » Endurance – Denotes physical toughness, the ability to withstand pain, illness, and fatigue.
    » Agility – Denotes balance, coordination, reflex, speed, and steadiness in combat.
    » Intelligence – Denotes ability to learn, reason, plan, solve problems, strategize, ability to comprehend complex ideas and general mental capability.
    » Will – Denotes magical strength, the general ability to cast spells and magicka regeneration.
    » Spirit – Denotes mental toughness, willpower and the ability to keep fighting past fatigue, injuries and one’s own limitations.

    Health ■■■■□□□□□□
    Magicka □□□□□□□□□□
    Stamina ■■■■□□□□□
    Strength ■■■■■□□□□□
    Endurance ■■■■■■■■□
    Agility ■■■■■■□□□
    Intelligence ■■■■■□□□□□
    Will □□□□□□□□□□
    Spirit ■■■■■■■□□□



    HISTORY

    » BIRTH

    It started, as always, with a shepherd.

    Dasgjorn Dasgjornssonsson, son of Dasgjorn Dasgjornsson who, because Nords are particularly uncreative when it comes to names, was in turn the son of Dasgjorn Norvidssonsson, knew omens as only shepherds do. They were as much a part of the job as, well, sheep. In his thirty years tending a flock, Dasgjorn had witnessed sixteen covens of witches dancing naked under a full moon on the solstice, birthed nine lambs beneath a new star, and encountered five burning bushes (admittedly, he'd set three of them on fire himself). Still, despite his familiarity with the occult, the shepherd was unsure of what to do when he found the baby boy buried under a pile of fluffy white kittens.

    A chorus of indignant mewling arose as Dasgjorn extracted the baby from the wriggling mound. The boy was seemingly healthy, although strangely quiet. Dasgjorn's gaze locked with the child's, and the shepherd shuddered. The boy's stare was unsettling, unnatural. There was no wonder in his eyes, no infant curiosity. There was just silent judgement, as though the boy could see everything about Dasgjorn, as though he'd already dissected the shepherds entire personality and did not approve of his findings. A cursory glance by Dasgjorn revealed the small, squiggly birthmark on the baby's rear end which, if Dasgjorn squinted, looked vaguely like a crown.

    And then Dasgjorn noticed the ink. Written in bold black letters on the boy's hand was a single word:Destiny. It was then that Dasgjorn knew he had to fulfill his mystic duty and commit to raising the boy as a hero whilst pretending to raise the boy as a shepherd.

    » CHILDHOOD

    On his fourth birthday, Adidas left the loving warmth of his mother's custody to begin his heroic education. Over the next twelve years, he was tutored by a string of old men, all selected by his father in the firm belief that beard length was directly correlated to wisdom. Adidas learned skills both situational and useful, including the elegant nuances of sword combat, the most effective way to climb a tower and the most gallant poses for fighting a dragon. The tutors tried to teach Adidas social graces as well, but the boy had never been particularly fond of social interaction, and resisted all attempts at socialization.

    But his favorite activity, by far, was tending the sheep. Adidas would sit for hours, watching his father's flock. He'd sketch the lambs suckling at their mothers and the ewe's grazing under the evening stars. For Adidas, there was nothing more relaxing, more peaceful, more fulfilling than managing the flock.

    When he was sixteen, Adidas' Father told him of his Destiny and his mystic roots, and encouraged him to seek fame and fortune in the world. Later that night, Adidas' mother came to his room and informed him that he was not, in fact, a boy with a Destiny, but that he was the bastard son of his mother and Maxus the Pig Farmer. She begged him to stay, insisting he had no need to leave home, no ultimate purpose beyond shepherding sheep, but Adidas ignored her. It would be a shame, he thought, to let his unorthodox education go to waste.

    » MERCENARY YEARS

    You don't spend eighteen years locked in a tower and learn nothing, Adidas soon realized. He eventually lost count of how many times he'd been promised half a father's kingdom, rescued a damsel, proposed to her, and woke up the next morning chained to a bed and left with nothing but pleasant memories. He grew weary of scaling enchanted castle walls, and he'd slain enough stepmothers to last a lifetime. So, finding the life of a professional Hero somewhat lacking, he joined the Imperial Legion, in the hopes of actually getting paid for his work. He was sorely disappointed, and one night after a long battle he slipped into the dark, setting out to earn real money.

    » ARENA-PRESENT

    Adidas wasn't sure why he did what he did for Nike. Certainly, she was his best (and only) friend, and while he never much enjoyed anyone's company he could at least amicably tolerate hers. Nevertheless, he wasn't particularly moved when Nike told him of her developing condition, an so he was rather surprised when he found himself collecting blood for her that night, and every night afterwards. It was, he told himself, because she needed to stay in top form for their fights. Likewise, when he nursed Nike back to health after her fight with Adrian, he insisted to himself it was because he owed her for all the gold she'd helped him earn. And when he left to adventure with her, it was because he could earn more gold with her than even in the Arena.

    Only when he willingly turned himself into a Vampire did he grudgingly admit that he'd found a friend in Nike, and that he couldn't stand to see his only friend feel so monstrous and isolated.

    » JOINING VIGILUM DRACONIS

    It was Nike who had wanted to join Vigilum Draconis, which was fine with Adidas because it was her they had asked for. Nike, whose name had been reverently whispered in the Arena halls for nearly a decade; Nike, who had brokered a peace between warring strongholds by fighting both chieftains at the same time; Nike, who had slaughtered an entire coven of vampires aided only by Scruffy, her loyal mutt; Nike, who had walked the Alik'r desert alone save for a single companion (Scruffy, again) for forty days and forty nights and survived.

    They'd even included a little invitation for Scruffy, signed with the paw print of one of the Emperor's prized hounds. Nike had thought that was hilarious. Still, Adidas supposed, it was better than people actually knowing his name. He just wished Nike would stop inviting people to pet him.
     

    Delusional

    Connoisseur of Hallucinations
    Alleras the Sphinx
    AllerasPic2_zpsc38dcf27.jpg
    (yes, I know it's a celebrity. It's the best depiction I could find)
    » NAME Alleras
    » ALIAS The Sphinx
    » AGE 29
    » BIRTH DATE 12th of Last Seed
    » BIRTH PLACE Bravil, Cyrodiil
    » BIRTH SIGN The Warrior
    » RACE Half Imperial, Half Redguard (considers himself an Imperial)
    » CLASS Marksman / Ranger
    » GENDER Male
    » HEIGHT 6’3”
    » WEIGHT 171 pounds
    » BMI 21.4
    » LATERALITY Ambidextrous
    » SEXUALITY Heterosexual
    » MARTIAL STATUS Single
    » PROPERTIES House in Bravil
    » AFFILIATION Vigilum Draconis
    » AFFLICTIONS Substance Addiction
    » RELIGION Atheist
    » HABITS Polishing his utility dagger, fiddling with his bowstring
    » HOBBIES Throwing apples into the air and skewering them with arrows for practice, getting high on skooma and moon sugar
    APPEARANCE
    » HAIR LENGTH Medium length, curly, falls to around his ears
    » HAIR COLOR Jet black
    » FACIAL HAIR Jet black goatee
    » EYE COLOR Black
    » SKIN COLOR Dark brown skin, a happy medium between the dark skin of Redguards and the chestnut skin of Imperials
    » BUILD Moderately slender, yet with toned muscles
    » SCARS Small scar along his brow, usually concealed by his hair
    » ATTIRE [CASUAL] — When not donning his reinforced leather ranger armor, his usual garb is a loose black tunic with a pair of simple trousers.
    » ATTIRE [COMBAT] — Pictured. Image is not mine.
    RangerArmor1_zps01dd30c5.jpg
    PERSONALITY
    » POSITIVE TRAITS Light-hearted, friendly, persistent, serious and focused under pressure, comely, likes to joke, relaxed
    » NEGATIVE TRAITS Hedonistic, debaucherous, can be cruel and cold in certain situations, sarcastic; when high, careless and strung out
    » LIKES Women, drinking, archery, apples, skooma, moon sugar, heights
    » DISLIKES Bandits, magic, especially necromancy and the dark arts, religion
    » FEARS Magic, missing a shot
    » ASPIRATIONS Though Alleras does not have very many long term aspirations, one simple goal of his is to be the best marksman he can be. He expects much of himself in combat and often beats himself up when he makes a mistake, grievous or not.
    Alleras is a very easy-going and friendly person, enjoying the company of others. Though he is very outgoing, he has the occasional tendency to show his cruel and cold side. He likes to jape with others; he is very sarcastic. Also, though he is very persistent and a diligent worker, he is rather hedonistic and debaucherous, favoring the more pleasure aspects of life. Alleras is still affected by a substance addiction that he developed at a young age, which proves a difficult challenge to deal with; no matter how hard he tries to kick the addiction, it still sticks with him and the lure of skooma and moon sugar remains. When he is under the influence of drugs, he is rather careless and relaxed.
    COMBAT DIAGNOSTIC
    » FIGHTING STYLE – Alleras is very deft with a bow. Not only is his accuracy excellent, but he is capable of putting a good amount of force behind his shots, allowing for even more range than a standard archer. Though Alleras is very skilled with a bow, he is not a strong melee fighter, or magic wielder. Also, though he is able to fight in a close quarter skirmish and not be killed, his skills with melee weapons are lackluster, at best. He is inept at casting magic. Alleras is not very adept at sneaking; therefore, he is a primarily combat archer, rather than a stealth archer.
    » ATTRIBUTES
    » Health – Denotes vitality and the amount of damage able to be taken.
    » Magicka – Denotes amount of magicka and the magical capacity to cast spells.
    » Stamina – Denotes amount of physical energy and the ability to perform strenuous activities.
    » Strength – Denotes physical strength and the ability to deal damage with melee attacks and block melee attacks.
    » Endurance – Denotes physical toughness, the ability to withstand pain, illness, and fatigue.
    » Agility – Denotes balance, coordination, reflex, speed, and steadiness in combat.
    » Intelligence – Denotes ability to learn, reason, plan, solve problems, strategize, ability to comprehend complex ideas and general mental capability.
    » Will – Denotes magical strength, the general ability to cast spells and magicka regeneration.
    » Spirit – Denotes mental toughness, willpower and the ability to keep fighting past fatigue, injuries and one’s own limitations.
    Health ■■■■■■□□□□
    Magicka □□□□□□□□□□
    Stamina ■■■■■■■□□□
    Strength ■■■■■□□□□□
    Endurance ■■■■■■■■□□
    Agility ■■■■■■■■■■
    Intelligence ■■■■■■■■□□
    Will □□□□□□□□□□
    Spirit ■■■■■■■□□□
    » SKILLS
    Master
    » Archery – Alleras is a very skilled archer. An almost natural talent, he has excellent accuracy with any bow and arrow, and is able to put a lot of force behind his shots, allowing him a greater range. He has a master finesse in the use of a bow, and is able to perform very well in diverse situations—whether it is lining up a distant and difficult shot, or operating in a close quarter environment.
    » Light Armor – Light armor is the only type of armor that Alleras wears. He dislikes the unnecessary bulkiness of heavy armor, not seeing much use in such protective gear, as he is an archer. Light armor is flexible, allowing for a greater drawback, and in turn, a greater range. Light armor also allows Alleras the versatility of maneuvering in many different combat scenarios, a vital skill when your primary weapon is a longbow.
    Expert
    » Speech – Alleras is very friendly and light-hearted, and seems to have a natural skill regarding the interaction of others. He is able to be serious in times when it is necessary, but can joke around and jape as well.
    Adept
    » Smithing – Alleras is only as proficient with a forge as he is due to his work as a blacksmith’s assistant when he was a young boy living in Bravil, and later in Skingrad. Though he does not often put this skill to use, he still retains the knowledge of the forge that he learned many years ago, when he had not discovered his deftness with a bow.
    Apprentice
    » One-Handed – Every warrior needs a back-up plan, and one-handed weapons—specifically daggers—is Alleras’ back-up plan. He is not very skilled in the use of them, by any means, but he can handle them well enough to serve as a last resort in a tough skirmish.
    HISTORY
    » BEFORE BIRTH – Alleras didn’t know much of his father, other than the simple fact that he was a traveling Redguard mercenary who had stayed briefly in Bravil while traveling across the Imperial province. He was supposedly a raunchy man, a drunkard who loved plundering, sex, alcohol and drugs, who had no regard for the well-being of others besides himself.
    His mother, Elia, was an Imperial wench, selling her body off to the street scum of the southern Cyrodiilic city in order to earn a meager living so she could support herself—and soon her unexpected son.
    Once Alleras’ father had lain with his mother that one fateful night, he departed the city with his companions, never to be seen again. His mother did not notice the pregnancy until it was too late to abort him using the methods of the era. Therefore, Alleras was born—purely out of luck.
    » CHILDHOOD [13 years] – Alleras did not remember much of his infant years, only that he was only cared for by his mother for a few years, before he was considered old enough to be thrown out onto the streets—around age 6. He lived a hard life on the squalid streets of Bravil, scraping by only because he quickly befriended several other poverty-stricken beggars who helped the young child survive—these friends were the ones who ended up naming him, since his mother cared not enough to give him a proper name.
    Alleras lived like this for many years, scrounging up just enough provisions to stay somewhat healthy—or at least alive. Throughout this rather dark phase of his life, Alleras became involved in many shady activities, and soon enough, he developed a quite serious addiction to several substances, such as skooma and moon sugar—substances that were not in short supply in the southern city, thanks to the large Khajiit and Argonian population.
    It wasn’t until Alleras was 12 that his life took a turn for the better and start to shape up. Somehow, he became aware of a position of apprenticeship available in one of the smithies of Bravil. Jumping at the opportunity to take a step in bettering his life, Alleras made no haste in attempting catch the ear of the blacksmith.
    Fortunately, the blacksmith, an Argonian named Ree-Zara, was rather desperate; having lost his former apprentice to a raid performed by the Renrijra Krin, and allowed the young teen to become his apprentice.
    » TEENAGE YEARS [6 years] – Alleras had absolutely no experience in the art of smithing up until he was taken in by Ree-Zara. He was an illustrious Argonian, prideful of his work; he had no problem teaching the young teen Imperial the basics of the forge.
    Alleras caught on to the basics fairly well, impressing and pleasing his master. Though he didn’t necessarily like being a blacksmith and working the forge, it was a lot better of a situation than the one he had been living just a year back, so he didn’t mind.
    Three nondescript years later, Alleras found a thrown out bow lying in an alley. Curious, he took the beat-up wooden bow and returned to the smithy to forge himself a few arrows to fire, just for the fun of seeing how awful he was at it.Surprisingly, once he had completed the set of iron arrows, mounted a makeshift target in out behind the back of the smithy, and sent an arrow whistling through the air, he discovered that he had a natural talent for archery.
    Not knowing what to do with this skill, he continued as an apprentice of Ree-Zara; he spent more and more of his free time out in the back with that aged bow and a quiver of arrows, firing bolts of wood and iron through the air to implant themselves in the target he jury-rigged.
    Several years later, when Alleras was 18, a tragic event befell the city of Bravil. The Renrijra Krin, an organization of Khajiit terrorists who were known for harassing the city of Bravil, launched an all-out offensive on the Cyrodiilic city. They stormed the city, easily dispatching the city guards, and wrecked terror and destruction upon Bravil. As the denizens of the city were slaughtered by the dozens and buildings were set to fire by ruthless Khajiits, Alleras hastily packed his belongings and barely escaped the burning city, running for the hills with the screams of the dying slowly fading away.
    For almost an entire year, Alleras wandered the countryside of Cyrodiil and even Elsweyr, half lost, and half afraid of returning to an urban center. However, Alleras suffered from serious withdrawal during this time, and was more than glad to embrace the comforts of urban life when he stumbled upon Skingrad late into his nineteenth year.
    » YOUNG ADULT YEARS [18 years] – In Skingrad, Alleras quickly found work at the local smithy, impressing the blacksmith with the skills he learned from Ree-Zara in Bravil. Earning a steady income, Alleras was able to fund his addiction and still have enough coin afterwards to purchase better quality gear—a significant step up from what he fled Bravil with.
    Alleras worked for the blacksmith for another year, tending the forges dutifully. However, he felt empty working as the blacksmith’s apprentice; as if his life calling was beckoning for him, and it wasn’t forging armors and weapons for several more decades.
    So, when Alleras turned 21, he packed up and said his farewells to the friends he had made in Skingrad before departing the city. Not sure what exactly this calling was, he began to travel from city to city, trekking through the Cyrodiilic countryside, searching.
    Somehow, his journey took him back to his former home—Bravil. It almost seemed as if it was meant to be; Alleras had a strange feeling as he gazed upon the place that he used to call home.
    The city was in the process of rebuilding from the Renrijra Krin sack, scaffolds lining the buildings, citizens hard at work restoring their home. Alleras entered the city, trying to seek out old friends or acquaintances, but so much had changed in the city following that infamous event. It didn’t take very long before the marksman realized what he must do—seek out and bring down vengeance on the terrorist organization that destroyed Bravil, and to avenge his former friends.
    Alleras set out with a fire in his heart and began searching the surrounding area for any signs or clues as to where he could locate the radical Khajiit group. It was over a half a year before he caught wind of the location of a possible Renrijra Krin hideout. After an exhausting search, the rumor came almost as a relief for the Imperial.
    The rumored location was a small cave nestled along the Elsweyr-Cyrodiilic border, tucked away deep within the endless trees. Once Alleras had located the cave, it was quite evident that the rumor proved true, and the unnamed cave was indeed a Renrijra Krin stronghold.
    Fearless, driven by vengeance and adrenaline, blood pumping, Alleras stormed the hideout, slaughtering the Khajiit extremists with extreme precision and speed. He cleared the cave, leaving no survivors. Following the assault, Alleras returned to Bravil and notified the Count of the cave’s location before purchasing a house and settling down for good.
    The Count sent a large force of town guards to seek out the cave, but they returned shortly thereafter with reports that all of the occupants—which indeed were Renrijra Krin terrorists—had been disposed of. It was obvious to the Count whose doing it was, and Alleras was recognized as the town’s hero at age 26.
    The Emperor soon caught wind of this, and sent for Alleras, offering a position among the strongest warriors and greatest modern-day heroes of Tamriel as part of the exclusive Vigilum Draconis. He gladly accepted, and has been a part of the organization for three years now, building up a reputation and a name for himself—the Sphinx.
     

    Skyrimosity

    Well-Known Member
    Matthais Traven
    » NAME: Matthais Traven
    » ALIAS: none
    » AGE: 39
    » BIRTH DATE: 3E 249
    » BIRTH PLACE: Daggerfall City, Daggerfall, High Rock
    » BIRTH SIGN: Mage
    » GENDER: Male
    » HEIGHT: 6 foot tall
    » WEIGHT: 175 pounds
    » LATERALITY: Right handed
    » SEXUALITY: Heterosexual
    » MARTIAL STATUS: Single
    » AFFILIATION: Vigilum Draconis, Imperial Legion
    » AFFLICTIONS: None
    » RELIGION: 9 Divines; not a heavy worshiper but prays heavily before a battle.

    「APPEARANCE」

    » HAIR Short brown hair, kept cut just above his eyebrows and above his ears. Short in the back.
    » EYE COLOR Brown
    » SKIN COLOR White with a slight tan
    » BUILD Muscular arms and legs, muscles are well-defined instead of being extremely big.
    » SCARS None
    » ATTIRE — Specially made armor designed to provide as much protection as possible while remaining lightweight. Red with the symbol of the Vigilum Draconis on the center. (think Leather Armor except significantly tougher. And red)

    「PERSONALITY」

    » POSITIVE TRAITS Hard-worker, dedicated to the improvement of himself. Co-operative and accepting of all races.
    » NEGATIVE TRAITS Sometimes a bit too verbal about his opinions. Neat-freak.
    » LIKES Cleanliness. Organization. Order.
    » DISLIKES Chaos
    「COMBAT DIAGNOSTIC」

    » FIGHTING STYLE – A true master of the bound sword, Matthais is capable of quick movements and skillful dodges. In battle he can skillfully maneuver to wherever he wishes to be. Matthais can deliver precise, accurate attacks with his bound sword and is quick to react to any situation around him. He can conjure any atronach in the heat of battle but only does so if the number of troops around him is few so as to not confuse anyone on if the creature is friend or foe.

    » SKILLS

    Master

    One-handed: Matthais is masterful with a small sword, conjured or otherwise. His quick movement and precise strikes with a sword have ended up in the war stories of soldiers he has served with in the past. The soldiers who have served around him often describe the movements as "majestic". An author examining the Legion for his book "Tales of Glory" noted Matthais's sword handling to be "... masterful, to the point where one wonders if it is all an illusion and they are dreaming."​
    Light Armor: Matthais is so quick on his feet that his armor would appear to be no more than a part of his very skin. Some even say that when he puts on armor, he becomes more mobile and even faster on his feet. For a month after he suffered a minor injury, Imperial scholars asked permission to study his armor to determine if there were any magic/Divine qualities.​

    Expert
    Conjuration: While certainly very skillful in Conjuration, and despite Conjuration being the foundation for his fighting style, Matthais is not a master in Conjuration because he knows only few spells in the field. He has no knowledge of thralls or necromancy.​

    Acrobatics: Matthais is a fast runner and a great climber. Nimble on his feet and graceful when in a full sprint.

    Adept

    Archery: Something Matthais finds to be useful but not enough to spend much time learning. Will use a bound bow from long range if he finds it necessary.

    Apprentice
    Destruction: Knows the Fireball spell. Seldom practices Destruction and finds little use for the spell on the battlefield.


    「HISTORY」
    Parents: His father Dunane was a career soldier in the Legion and fought many years in its name. When he first joined the Legion, he fought under Emperor Cephorus II to keep Andorak, son of Uriel IV, off the throne. During these years of war, his father distinguished himself as a capable soldier.
    Two years into his life as a soldier, Matthais was born. Dunane continued his career as a soldier, fighting battles against the pretender Andorak. During any off time, he would tutor Matthais on the ways of being a soldier. He taught Matthais everything he knew and it wasn't long before Matthais was a far better soldier than him. Dunane was forced to retire after an enemy arrow penetrated the slightly less thick armor around his knee and tore through his ACL.
    Childhood (13 years): Raised mostly by his mother, Matthais relished every moment he got to spend with his father. He took the lessons his father tought to him very seriously and when he was gone he would spend all his free time practicing what he was taught. As such, he became very proficient with a sword.
    Matthais was a very lonely child, never spending much time with other children. Instead he spent most of his time practicing and wondering when his father would be back. He often felt that practicing his skills is what kept him connected to his father. He was also nearly constantly burdened by the thought that his father may never return.
    Teenage years (4 years): Became more independent. Although he loved his father and in many ways took after his father, Matthais often felt he would never become what he ought to be if he stayed with his family.
    Camoran Usurper (3E 267): Matthais would get his first taste of battle when the Kingdoms of High Rock combined their armies to battle against the larger armies of the Camoran Usurper. Matthais joined the ranks of soldiers and other enlistees in order to defend his homeland.
    The battle was brutal and there were many times when Matthais probably should have been killed. But he managed to kill many of the Usurper's undead and witnessed many Bretons uniting to defeat a common enemy. The miraculous battle resulted in the Usurper's defeat and, witnessing many events that were surely acts of the divines, Matthais prays to the divines before any battle. Shortly after the battle, Matthais joined the Legion.
    Legion (268-282): Matthais joined the Legion shortly before the crowning of Uriel IV. When trainers tried to teach him ways to fight, Matthais surprised them by being extremely capable in fighting and he was quickly assigned his post and deemed combat-ready.
    Battle of Roscrea (271): Matthais was among the soldiers who would lead the assault on Roscrea. The fighting was harsh, and many of the enemies had never been encountered before by Legion soldiers. Matthais distinguished himself in combat and a nearby Legate made note of him. The Legate approached him afterwards and later recommended him for promotion.
    Battle of Cathnoquey (276): Matthais led a small group of men on a flanking mission against enemy soldiers. When the group was ambushed, Matthais ordered his soldiers to fight or die a coward. Matthais and his men slaughtered the enemy, holding off numbers much larger than their own. After the battle, the number of enemies dead was around 600. The number of men Matthais had lost was 40. The Emperor wished to know what had made these men so capable and asked all the men to write a report. One report said:
    "The man named Matthais Traven, instead of being downtrodden, fought the enemy with a fury I had not known possible. When other soldiers saw how enthusiastically Matthais was fighting an enemy far outnumbering ourselves, we all felt like we had to try to match him. And though none of us did, it was glorious to even try."
    Battle of Yneslea (279): Matthais and fifty men charged into a flank being thrashed by enemy soldiers. They fought hard and devastated the Tsaesci soldiers, allowing the flank to recover. While the men re-organized under the command of a Legate, Matthais led all who would follow into the enemy ranks. The attack went so successfully that all other soldiers were ordered to join the assault, and the result was a slaughter of the Tsaesci.
    Matthais was promoted to Legate, but some opposed the appointment to Matthais defying orders. Those for the promotion stated that Matthais rallied his men under all circumstances.
    Capture of Black Harbor (282): Matthais led his men in the initial assault and when his men saw him fighting on the frontlines and a trail of Tsaesci bodies left wherever he was. This encouraged them to fight hard and the many Tsaesci they killed helped to pave the way for the capture of Black Harbor, instrumental in the Imperial conquest of Esroniet.
    The Emperor requested Matthais to join the Vigilum Draconis shortly after this battle.
    Vigilum Draconis (282-Present): Matthais has served as an elite member of the Vigilum Draconis for six years now. He has a reputation as a good soldier and person within the group. Matthais is well-known within the agency and has a good standing with most members.
     

    Mr.Self Destruct

    Chosen Undead
    Cool character, Sky.

    Seeing as how Matthais has been with the Legion and the League for some time, maybe he could know Maric?
     

    Skyrimosity

    Well-Known Member
    I was thinking maybe they met sometime before/shortly after Cathnoquey
     

    Delusional

    Connoisseur of Hallucinations
    Oh Rex.
     

    EpicVakarian

    Calibration-Master General
    Mr Self Destruct has informed me there's space for a destruction/restoration mage. So here goes;

    BASIC
    NAME Ruby Starborn
    AGE 24
    RACE Imperial
    BIRTHPLACE Aleswell, Cyrodiil
    BIRTH DATE 4th Morning Star, 3E 264
    ORIGIN Imperial mother and father
    CLASS Mage
    GENDER Female
    HEIGHT 5'5"
    WEIGHT 7st 10lbs
    BMI 18.0
    LATERALITY Ambidextrous
    SEXUALITY Heterosexual
    MARITAL STATUS Married
    HEALTH Healthy
    AFFILIATIONS College of Winterhold
    AFFLICTIONS Deformation of the spine
    RELIGION Nine divines
    APPEARANCE
    HAIR Long, dark brown, almost black. Swept over head to keep it out of her eyes
    EYE COLOUR Purple
    BUILD Fairly curvaceous, quite skinny, has a slight deformation of the spine that makes her backside stick out further than it should and pushes her belly forward slightly
    SKIN Very pale, only the slightest hint of the olive skin of an Imperial
    SCARS None
    MAKE-UP Deep black eyeliner and eyeshadow to highlight her oddly coloured eyes
    aftermath_by_noiprox-d4w8mmq.jpg
    PERSONALITY
    POSITIVE TRAITS Kind, stubborn, loyal, very friendly, observant
    NEGATIVE TRAITS Quite naive, not overly understanding of people's intentions
    LIKES Discovering new spells that no-one has used before, talking
    DISLIKES Racists, bigots, gluttons, arrogant people
    FEARS Being afraid. Spiders, skeevers, pain
    ASPIRATIONS To get back to her life in Cyrodiil unharmed
    QUIRKS She is much more skilled in magic than her personality and age would suggest. Tolfdir described her as a 'prodigy'.
    ALIGNMENT Neutral good
    HABITS Casting magic to keep herself warm
    HOBBIES Researching new spells
    COMBAT SKILLS
    MASTER Destruction, restoration
    EXPERT Alchemy, illusion, enchanting, light armour, smithing
    ADEPT Sneak, speech, conjuration, alteration
    RELATIONS
    COLLEGE OF WINTERHOLD [LIKES] - The College taught her all about her magic and how to control it, and so she respects them greatly and has come to love many of them.
    THE EMPIRE [LIKES] - The Empire is the best thing to happen to Tamriel since the dragons were wiped out.
    GEAR
    ARMOUR She is one of the few mages that wears armour. She wears leather armour that fits her tightly to keep her warm. The clothes, which she created herself, are padded to make her appear bigger and more intimidating. The boots in particular make her appear quite large and muscular. Her upper half is designed to make herself look more attractive, making her waist slightly thinner.
    dark_paladin_by_bggeneral-d5k8noj.jpg
    dark_paladin_by_bggeneral-d5k8nst.jpg
    The whole outfit is coloured black on the outside and red on the inside, with some red showing through to the outside.
    WEAPONS Magic; destruction primarily but some restoration magic against undead. Her magic is totally unique; not even the most advanced mages in the College could match her skill in destruction and restoration.
    HISTORY
    CHILDHOOD Ruby was born to a happy family in Cyrodiil, just before Uriel V ended the reign of the Camoran Usurper. She was born at the brightest part of the night. The women had to deliver her by starlight, resulting in her surname, Starborn. She had a nice life; her father was the smith of the village of Aleswell, just north of the Imperial City, and he taught her to forge things from an early age. Her family was quite wealthy, and often made trips to the Imperial City for materials for her father's forge. She had many friends, and was always admired by her elders for being so respectful and kind at such a young age. She was raised lovingly for her entire childhood.
    TEENAGE YEARS When she struck thirteen, not only did puberty kick in, but her inborn magical powers showed themselves as well. Being born under the brightest time of the Mage sign, she was naturally incredibly skilled at magic. Her friends became wary of her after she accidentally injured one of them with a stray destruction spell. Ruby managed to heal it with her equal skill in restoration, but they were still alienated. Her parents decided to send her to school in the Imperial City, to learn more about her skills. Within two weeks, the mages had sent her back, saying there was nothing to teach her, that her skills already far surpassed their own. Her parents, naturally, were reluctant to let her go to Skyrim for the College of Winterhold, so they kept her with them, learning about the magic she knew about in more depth.
    During this time, she also met a new friend; Nolus Vulpin, an Imperial boy who had just moved in with his family. Ruby and Nolus became very close, and at fourteen, were together.
    ADULTHOOD Ruby became eighteen. She could marry Nolus if she wanted, and she did. They were married three days after her birthday, and lived in their own house in Aleswell.
    Ruby kept visiting her father and learning his trade of smithing, and forged her armour, the tight leather, for all weathers. Needless to say, Nolus liked it.
    But after living with Nolus for a year and still not bearing a child, she decided to resume her magical training. She left, heading to the College of Winterhold, vowing to return to Nolus and have a child with him soon.
    She was trained by the College for three years, with one teacher calling her a 'prodigy' and the specialists of destruction and restoration growing particularly fond of her, due to her interest in their chosen schools. At the age of twenty-three, she left the College and decided to travel Skyrim for a year, utilizing her new skill with magic before she retreated to the happy, quiet life back in Aleswell.
    But during her travels, she came across an Imperial caravan, travelling through Skyrim as a shortcut between north-west Morrowind to Cyrodiil. As she watched, the caravan was attacked by outlaws, and Ruby decided that she must help. She climbed up onto a rock ledge, gaining the height advantage over the bandits. She first sent up a restoration spell into the sky, causing a bright light to appear behind her, so bright it might as well be a second sun. She had another advantage; the bandits couldn't see her now.
    Ruby conjured up all her magical strength at once, and unleashed it. Thirty fireballs materialized around her, hovering in a circle around her before each flying off independently. Each one struck an outlaw, and killed them, leaving the Legionnaires completely unharmed. She released the light, letting it dissipate and walked towards the Imperials, who simply stared at her. Then a man stepped out of a carriage; the Emperor Uriel V. She knelt immediately, in shock. The Emperor laughed, and pronounced her the most accomplished mage he had ever met. He named her a Primarch of the Vigilum Draconis. Being young, Ruby had no idea what this meant, but she accepted the honour and resumed her travels, unaware that she could be called on at any time to fight for the Empire.
     

    The OP3RaT0R

    Call me Op. Or Smooth.
    The only error I see is that you refer to a few NPCs from the Fourth Era and the Stormcloaks in your card. Also, Talos was a divine at this point. Good card,
     

    EpicVakarian

    Calibration-Master General
    Ah, thanks. In making sure I didn't miss the complex stuff, I missed out the simple stuff :) I'll edit it when I can. Just make up some NPCs for the 3rd era College. I guess Winterhold was still big back then?
     

    The OP3RaT0R

    Call me Op. Or Smooth.
    It was, so you can get creative, maybe even flesh out a little non-college stuff in Winterhold if you want :)
     

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