Boudica
English Yao Ming
Name: Rolf
Race: Nord
Class: Hunter
Gender: Male
Age: 26
Birthstone: The Lady
Looks: Rolf is handsome yet his face is usually obscured by dirt, blood or war paint of dark colours. His eyes are blue and his hair blonde, and he had a multitude of scars generally on his arms, torso, back and legs. However one scar does make its home on his jaw where he was clipped by an arrow in his youth. He had a broad set of shoulders, and a broad chest that tapers down to a slimmer waist and hips. His lifestyle has provided his body the means to being toned and battle ready and also means that the blonde scruff on his face is often unkempt because he doesn't shave until he makes 'bunk' in a hold capital inn. Even then he only trims it so it is a neat little beard; not long like many nordic men seem to prefer, but a short, clean version often toted by Imperials.
Weapons: As Rolf cannot tend metal as he can natural hides, his weapons were crafted by Lod; the blacksmith in his 'home hold' of Falkreath. Lod created two steel daggers for Rolf yet the bow that the Nord carries is of his own making. A long bow, strong, supple and reliable, loaded with sleek steel daggers is all Rolf requires to fell even the biggest of prey.
Armour: As a roaming hunter that lives mostly in the wilderness, Rolf has to create most of his own wares to either sell or use. Because of this his armour is self crafted Fur Armour from the pelts of ice wolves mostly. Waste not want not as he has it, not only covering his torso, but has created bracers and boots also. The softness and lightness of the material helps when stalking his quarry and strong leather soles and grips allow durability in diverse weathers and conditions.
Main skills: Archery - Sneak - Speech - One handed + (a little alchemy for basic salves and treatments)
Personality: Rolf is a simplistic nord, having being seperated from the politics and prejudices in is land by sticking to the wildernesses, he has an open mind and smile for anyone he meets. However, he is quick to learn, quick to become jaded regarding certain things and is not foolish despite his general optimism. He is resourceful, brave, self-sacrificing and kind hearted yet has a tendecy to be envious and sly if the right buttons are pressed. Even though he is not quick to anger, once he has reason his rage is cause for incredible fear and evasion of his person. Also, because of his hard lifestyle, when he has coin and chance enough to indulge, he will overindulge be it with food, mead or women.
Bio: Upon his birth, Rolf was abandoned on the doorstep of a house in the midst of the wild, untamed pine forests of Falkreath Hold. He was taken in by the inhabitants; a brave priest of Talos (Rokkr) and his wife (Helga) who was a priestess of Arkay and helped tend to the Falkreath graveyard that lay a mile or two away. They both shaped who Rolf would be as a person, giving him love, care and invaluable life lessons. As a brave, compassionate child, Rolf wanted to become a priest yet, one dark, Loredas night, that would become a distant care...
Thalmor agents ransacked their house and dragged his father away, crippling his mother in the attack. Rolf had been in town buying their monthly amount of supplies and so was missed by the Thalmor Justiciars.
From that time on, Rolf swore himself to protect and provide for the little family that he had left. Forsaking the cowl, he became a hunter in order to provide their means to survival. However, one harsh winter when Rolf was barely a man, was all it took to send his mother to Sovngarde.
Not knowing what else to do, Rolf simply carried on with plying his trade of the hunt all across Skyrim; from the frozen tundras of the Northern provinces to the dense, wooden regions to the south. Leaving the shack that had been his home for close to 18 years, he has been wandering ever since - always harbouring that resentment of the Thalmor wherever he goes.
Phobia: Vampires - He stumbled into a vampire lair in the swamps of Hjaalmarch when he was just a lad accompanying his father to a friend in Solitude. He fell into a pit of dead, swamped in blood and surrounded by the sneering, leering faces of ravenous vampires. He had to lay there and pretend to be dead for days until he was able to creep out whilst the monsters slept. He hates these unnatural creatures with a passion.
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Name: Arthanar
Race: Altmer
Class: Scholar/Justiciar
Gender: Male
Age: 25
Birthstone: The Lord
Looks: Handsome in an almost catlike way. He exudes grace, delicacy and power at the same time and has the look one would expect of a gentleman heartthrob in a English Victorian novel. Arthanar has high, well structured cheekbones that feature sharply on his face, a straight nose, two sharp yet honeyed gold eyes and a small, well trimmed goatee beard that matches his hair colour of dark blonde with a coppery tint to it.
Arthanars skin is a light gold and his hair is wildly curly, with it being just long enough to just pass his jaw line if it has been flattened under a hood or cowl to that extent. Traditionally, if serving the Thalmor on duty, he has to scrape back his unruly hair so that is flatter and not ‘obscene’...yet he much prefers just letting his hair do whatever the hell it wants.
As the case with many elves, Arthanar is exceptionally lithe and slender and stands at a mere 6’1” which is advantageous in the fact it doesn’t make him look like a beanpole. He keeps himself honed from his battle/training sessions so he has slight definition on his muscles; but he much rather prefers sitting somewhere and reading/experimenting.
Weapons: Arthanar owns two daggers that he practices with to keep himself within the strict guidelines for Justiciars, yet he only ever keeps one on his person at all times and the other is ditched on a table somewhere for him to pick up later. They are of elven make so are very light yet strong, but Arthanar doesn’t appreciate physical weaponry as much as a warrior would.
Occasionally he can be spotted with a staff that crafted from a light brown wood that has been carved to curl protectively around a large, yet generally dull, blue orb (made, possibly, of a giant pearl of some kind). Yet he’s only seen with it if he is practicing/ performing some incredibly difficult/intricate spell and that, is never in public or on the road.
Armour: Arthanar has multiple outfits for multiple occasions (as should any normal person), yet, all of his clothes seem to have a sort of...’flow’ to them.
What he is usually spotted in is a faded red tunic with dark pants and boots, cinched in the middle with a simple grey sash and overlapped with open front robe of dark grey. A pouch or two will sometimes be seen dangling from the sash and a makeshift dagger sheath also makes its home there. The robe has a hood yet Arthanar generally does not wear it over his head. Also, sometimes, when indoors, he will be seen walking barefoot instead of wearing his worn and scuffed black boots.
However, he does wear a tighter fitting Thalmor robe when summoned for duty and sometimes, despite its constrictions; he’ll hang around in it because he’ll be too concerned with other things rather than changing his garb. He wears the full kit; gloves, greaves and boots, yet, he dislikes the hood so opts to wear it down.
When feeling social, the Altmer will wear finer clothes than usual, nothing too extravagant, but something elegant and dignified.
Main skills: Illusion – Alteration – Destruction –Conjuration–Alchemy + one handed (standard officer training, nothing more, and nothing less)
Personality: Arthanar comes across as self-absorbed, energetic, cynical and vain...which is pretty much his personality in a nutshell if you were ever to get to know him that well in the first place. He is a clever man that is constantly looking for ways to either: a) expand his knowledge or b) keep him from getting bored. Arthanars life revolves (pretty much) around his ‘work/experiments’ as they not only provide fascinating distractions from monotony but also provide him with the mental stimulus that Arthanar needs in order to stop himself slipping into a bored, self-destructive state. Bottles of skooma are on hand for when he does start to lack this stimulus and the usage of the drugs cause a similar effect. Despite these...’imperfections’ in the eyes of his Thalmor Overseers, they keep him around because his mind is incredibly useful to them and his placement in Skyrim is even more beneficial...so...because of these ‘pros’ they ignore the fact that he sometimes flunks going on patrols and duties or reporting in on important dates. The reason why he does this is not because he is particularly rebellious, no; it is because such tasks are menial and bore him to tears so he would prefer not to cause himself any mental self harm.
The way he interacts with most other people is stereotypically ‘elven’, aloof and offhand – yet he does not do it to be intentionally rude, he is merely observing you and then deciding if you are worth his time to talk to. When ‘wound down’ he can be rather laid back and conversational...yet this is somewhat of a rare occurrence and he prefers sharp, sarcastic remarks when addressing many people.
Bio - TBA
Name - Amras
Age - (in elven years) 24
Gender - Male
Race - Altmer
Appearance - Unkempt and almost wild in his looks and clothing. Sharp, vivid green eyes and wild coppery hair that curls and flicks in an uncontrolled mop on his head reinforce his almost rabid appearance. He has a small smattering of stubble along his jaw which is a darker varient of his hair colour and his skin is (like most Altmers) a golden but it has been darkened to a darker honey shade due to a lot of outdoor exposure.
His clothing is all ragged; ragged robes, ragged boots which combined make him look like a crazy beggar man that you would expect to frequent street corners with his hands outstretched for charity.
Personality - Almost to reflect his appearance, Amras is a little wild in his personality. He is incredibly passionate to an almost frantic and obsessive level but, since his fall from grace, he has grown to be less stressed and directs his energies to wherever he see's fit. He is a very energetic person, very upfront and almost brutally blunt but he can (and will) become very sly when he desires to be. As if he were a nord himself, he has grown to enjoy and indulge in the past times of drinking heavily, eating indulgently and flirting passionately. Yet, there is always something...dangerous about his energetic and sporadic behavior and he should be treated with caution as he is a very driven and very intelligent person.
Equipment - He carries no weaponry as he uses his magic mostly.
Backstory - Believe it or not, Amras used to be a trusted and high officer of the Thalmor, a loyal and dangerous member of the elven supremacists who would strike fear into whoever encountered him be they mer or man, prisoner or free man. Yet, he was framed by a jealous cohort and he was ejected from the ranks after torture and questions about Amras' mental health.
After being left for dead in the frozen wastes somewhere in Skyrim he did decided to vow his revenge but forgot about it whilst he was busy doing everything that he hadn't even dreamt of before. He experienced every interacial pleasure available and even got caught up in a 'wolf cult' where he partook in the blood exchange and became a werewolf.
Yes, without barriers and rules, Amras became a greater danger to others and himself.
Generally, he is amiable towards any he meets until he catches a glimpse of Thalmor robes...then there is no telling what he will do...
Skills - Amras is a master of the arcane, more specifically the fiery destruction arts and the sly skills of illusion magic; hinting at his dual and radically different personality traits. Yet, since he has since reveled in mortal indulgences he has become rather efficient at speechcraft.
Weaknesses - He is a danger to himself first of all as he can appear incredibly unstable. His wolf blood can cause him to be more aggressive on random occasions and a danger to those around him. Amras, whilst physcially rather strong, is untaught in the ways of melee combat with any form of weaponry.
He is also slightly addicted to mead and skooma...and it has gotten him into trouble more trouble more times than he can actually remember...
Race: Nord
Class: Hunter
Gender: Male
Age: 26
Birthstone: The Lady
Looks: Rolf is handsome yet his face is usually obscured by dirt, blood or war paint of dark colours. His eyes are blue and his hair blonde, and he had a multitude of scars generally on his arms, torso, back and legs. However one scar does make its home on his jaw where he was clipped by an arrow in his youth. He had a broad set of shoulders, and a broad chest that tapers down to a slimmer waist and hips. His lifestyle has provided his body the means to being toned and battle ready and also means that the blonde scruff on his face is often unkempt because he doesn't shave until he makes 'bunk' in a hold capital inn. Even then he only trims it so it is a neat little beard; not long like many nordic men seem to prefer, but a short, clean version often toted by Imperials.
Weapons: As Rolf cannot tend metal as he can natural hides, his weapons were crafted by Lod; the blacksmith in his 'home hold' of Falkreath. Lod created two steel daggers for Rolf yet the bow that the Nord carries is of his own making. A long bow, strong, supple and reliable, loaded with sleek steel daggers is all Rolf requires to fell even the biggest of prey.
Armour: As a roaming hunter that lives mostly in the wilderness, Rolf has to create most of his own wares to either sell or use. Because of this his armour is self crafted Fur Armour from the pelts of ice wolves mostly. Waste not want not as he has it, not only covering his torso, but has created bracers and boots also. The softness and lightness of the material helps when stalking his quarry and strong leather soles and grips allow durability in diverse weathers and conditions.
Main skills: Archery - Sneak - Speech - One handed + (a little alchemy for basic salves and treatments)
Personality: Rolf is a simplistic nord, having being seperated from the politics and prejudices in is land by sticking to the wildernesses, he has an open mind and smile for anyone he meets. However, he is quick to learn, quick to become jaded regarding certain things and is not foolish despite his general optimism. He is resourceful, brave, self-sacrificing and kind hearted yet has a tendecy to be envious and sly if the right buttons are pressed. Even though he is not quick to anger, once he has reason his rage is cause for incredible fear and evasion of his person. Also, because of his hard lifestyle, when he has coin and chance enough to indulge, he will overindulge be it with food, mead or women.
Bio: Upon his birth, Rolf was abandoned on the doorstep of a house in the midst of the wild, untamed pine forests of Falkreath Hold. He was taken in by the inhabitants; a brave priest of Talos (Rokkr) and his wife (Helga) who was a priestess of Arkay and helped tend to the Falkreath graveyard that lay a mile or two away. They both shaped who Rolf would be as a person, giving him love, care and invaluable life lessons. As a brave, compassionate child, Rolf wanted to become a priest yet, one dark, Loredas night, that would become a distant care...
Thalmor agents ransacked their house and dragged his father away, crippling his mother in the attack. Rolf had been in town buying their monthly amount of supplies and so was missed by the Thalmor Justiciars.
From that time on, Rolf swore himself to protect and provide for the little family that he had left. Forsaking the cowl, he became a hunter in order to provide their means to survival. However, one harsh winter when Rolf was barely a man, was all it took to send his mother to Sovngarde.
Not knowing what else to do, Rolf simply carried on with plying his trade of the hunt all across Skyrim; from the frozen tundras of the Northern provinces to the dense, wooden regions to the south. Leaving the shack that had been his home for close to 18 years, he has been wandering ever since - always harbouring that resentment of the Thalmor wherever he goes.
Phobia: Vampires - He stumbled into a vampire lair in the swamps of Hjaalmarch when he was just a lad accompanying his father to a friend in Solitude. He fell into a pit of dead, swamped in blood and surrounded by the sneering, leering faces of ravenous vampires. He had to lay there and pretend to be dead for days until he was able to creep out whilst the monsters slept. He hates these unnatural creatures with a passion.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Name: Arthanar
Race: Altmer
Class: Scholar/Justiciar
Gender: Male
Age: 25
Birthstone: The Lord
Looks: Handsome in an almost catlike way. He exudes grace, delicacy and power at the same time and has the look one would expect of a gentleman heartthrob in a English Victorian novel. Arthanar has high, well structured cheekbones that feature sharply on his face, a straight nose, two sharp yet honeyed gold eyes and a small, well trimmed goatee beard that matches his hair colour of dark blonde with a coppery tint to it.
Arthanars skin is a light gold and his hair is wildly curly, with it being just long enough to just pass his jaw line if it has been flattened under a hood or cowl to that extent. Traditionally, if serving the Thalmor on duty, he has to scrape back his unruly hair so that is flatter and not ‘obscene’...yet he much prefers just letting his hair do whatever the hell it wants.
As the case with many elves, Arthanar is exceptionally lithe and slender and stands at a mere 6’1” which is advantageous in the fact it doesn’t make him look like a beanpole. He keeps himself honed from his battle/training sessions so he has slight definition on his muscles; but he much rather prefers sitting somewhere and reading/experimenting.
Weapons: Arthanar owns two daggers that he practices with to keep himself within the strict guidelines for Justiciars, yet he only ever keeps one on his person at all times and the other is ditched on a table somewhere for him to pick up later. They are of elven make so are very light yet strong, but Arthanar doesn’t appreciate physical weaponry as much as a warrior would.
Occasionally he can be spotted with a staff that crafted from a light brown wood that has been carved to curl protectively around a large, yet generally dull, blue orb (made, possibly, of a giant pearl of some kind). Yet he’s only seen with it if he is practicing/ performing some incredibly difficult/intricate spell and that, is never in public or on the road.
Armour: Arthanar has multiple outfits for multiple occasions (as should any normal person), yet, all of his clothes seem to have a sort of...’flow’ to them.
What he is usually spotted in is a faded red tunic with dark pants and boots, cinched in the middle with a simple grey sash and overlapped with open front robe of dark grey. A pouch or two will sometimes be seen dangling from the sash and a makeshift dagger sheath also makes its home there. The robe has a hood yet Arthanar generally does not wear it over his head. Also, sometimes, when indoors, he will be seen walking barefoot instead of wearing his worn and scuffed black boots.
However, he does wear a tighter fitting Thalmor robe when summoned for duty and sometimes, despite its constrictions; he’ll hang around in it because he’ll be too concerned with other things rather than changing his garb. He wears the full kit; gloves, greaves and boots, yet, he dislikes the hood so opts to wear it down.
When feeling social, the Altmer will wear finer clothes than usual, nothing too extravagant, but something elegant and dignified.
Main skills: Illusion – Alteration – Destruction –Conjuration–Alchemy + one handed (standard officer training, nothing more, and nothing less)
Personality: Arthanar comes across as self-absorbed, energetic, cynical and vain...which is pretty much his personality in a nutshell if you were ever to get to know him that well in the first place. He is a clever man that is constantly looking for ways to either: a) expand his knowledge or b) keep him from getting bored. Arthanars life revolves (pretty much) around his ‘work/experiments’ as they not only provide fascinating distractions from monotony but also provide him with the mental stimulus that Arthanar needs in order to stop himself slipping into a bored, self-destructive state. Bottles of skooma are on hand for when he does start to lack this stimulus and the usage of the drugs cause a similar effect. Despite these...’imperfections’ in the eyes of his Thalmor Overseers, they keep him around because his mind is incredibly useful to them and his placement in Skyrim is even more beneficial...so...because of these ‘pros’ they ignore the fact that he sometimes flunks going on patrols and duties or reporting in on important dates. The reason why he does this is not because he is particularly rebellious, no; it is because such tasks are menial and bore him to tears so he would prefer not to cause himself any mental self harm.
The way he interacts with most other people is stereotypically ‘elven’, aloof and offhand – yet he does not do it to be intentionally rude, he is merely observing you and then deciding if you are worth his time to talk to. When ‘wound down’ he can be rather laid back and conversational...yet this is somewhat of a rare occurrence and he prefers sharp, sarcastic remarks when addressing many people.
Bio - TBA
Name - Amras
Age - (in elven years) 24
Gender - Male
Race - Altmer
Appearance - Unkempt and almost wild in his looks and clothing. Sharp, vivid green eyes and wild coppery hair that curls and flicks in an uncontrolled mop on his head reinforce his almost rabid appearance. He has a small smattering of stubble along his jaw which is a darker varient of his hair colour and his skin is (like most Altmers) a golden but it has been darkened to a darker honey shade due to a lot of outdoor exposure.
His clothing is all ragged; ragged robes, ragged boots which combined make him look like a crazy beggar man that you would expect to frequent street corners with his hands outstretched for charity.
Personality - Almost to reflect his appearance, Amras is a little wild in his personality. He is incredibly passionate to an almost frantic and obsessive level but, since his fall from grace, he has grown to be less stressed and directs his energies to wherever he see's fit. He is a very energetic person, very upfront and almost brutally blunt but he can (and will) become very sly when he desires to be. As if he were a nord himself, he has grown to enjoy and indulge in the past times of drinking heavily, eating indulgently and flirting passionately. Yet, there is always something...dangerous about his energetic and sporadic behavior and he should be treated with caution as he is a very driven and very intelligent person.
Equipment - He carries no weaponry as he uses his magic mostly.
Backstory - Believe it or not, Amras used to be a trusted and high officer of the Thalmor, a loyal and dangerous member of the elven supremacists who would strike fear into whoever encountered him be they mer or man, prisoner or free man. Yet, he was framed by a jealous cohort and he was ejected from the ranks after torture and questions about Amras' mental health.
After being left for dead in the frozen wastes somewhere in Skyrim he did decided to vow his revenge but forgot about it whilst he was busy doing everything that he hadn't even dreamt of before. He experienced every interacial pleasure available and even got caught up in a 'wolf cult' where he partook in the blood exchange and became a werewolf.
Yes, without barriers and rules, Amras became a greater danger to others and himself.
Generally, he is amiable towards any he meets until he catches a glimpse of Thalmor robes...then there is no telling what he will do...
Skills - Amras is a master of the arcane, more specifically the fiery destruction arts and the sly skills of illusion magic; hinting at his dual and radically different personality traits. Yet, since he has since reveled in mortal indulgences he has become rather efficient at speechcraft.
Weaknesses - He is a danger to himself first of all as he can appear incredibly unstable. His wolf blood can cause him to be more aggressive on random occasions and a danger to those around him. Amras, whilst physcially rather strong, is untaught in the ways of melee combat with any form of weaponry.
He is also slightly addicted to mead and skooma...and it has gotten him into trouble more trouble more times than he can actually remember...
