Info Character Profiles

[The Angry Nord]

Name: Kilodril
Race: Orc
Class: Warrior
Gender: Male
Looks: Dark green skin, large teeth, large muscles, wears miner clothes, leather boots, gruff voice.
Personality: Kilodril is a canny Orc but has a short temper when insulted. Spends a lot of time in the Bannered Mare and he can handle his drink.
Misc: Hates rich people, high elves and the Empire.

 

[TheHaydz242]

Character name: Hayden.
Race: Nord.
Class: Hunter.
Gender: Male.
Looks: Short hair, around 6'2. One eye, lost the other fighting with a bear. Large muscles. Wears fur made from his game. Deep voice, nice teeth.
Personality: Nice and generous, doesn't attack people unless in self defense, and often gives septims to the poor.
Misc: Hate's the Stormcloaks. But refuses to kill them.

 

[Dabiene Caristiana]

Character Name: Dabiene Caristiana
Race: Breton - Werewolf
Class: Spellsword/Battlemage
Gender: Female
Age: 36
Hair: Layered, Deep brown, slight wave, shoulder length
Height: 5'5''
Eyes: Changes color, Mostly brown or hazel
Other looks: Moderate high cheekbones, slightly full cheeks, thin lips, thin brows, long eyelashes. Narrow chin. White teeth, though some are crooked.
Personality: Loves people, loves children, will defend someone quickly. Though quick to anger she is generally mild tempered. Somewhat rich but doesn't flaunt it around. Kind and gentle, and will sometimes take in the unfortunate and give them essentials before sending them on their way. Has a mother like nature.
Other: With the Legion, though she doesn't really see the point in the war, hates conflict. Will use Destruction spells frequently and will convert to sword fighting if need be. Very adept alchemist, enchanter, and blacksmith. Is a very skilled healer as well.

Bio: Not much is known about Dabiene, but it's said she was orphaned. Some say she didn't get along well with her parents. She was captured by the Imperials on her way to Skyrim to go to the College of Winterhold after she found out she was naturally gifted with magic, able to control it with ease. She escaped Helgen and proceeded with her journey. However the magic within her sparked and reflected on her emotions. The teachers there helped her hasten her newfound power and helped her through her emotional tramas.

She went to the Companions to see what the fuss was about one day. They ridiculed her of magic use, all except Farkas and Kodlak. She vowed to train with the sword, and she became skilled enough for them to approve. Soon after, she took the gift of being a werewolf.

She suffers through flashbacks of certain beatings in the past.

 

[Fang]

Name: Has none but goes by Fang
Race: Appears Imperial
Class: Alpha Werewolf
Looks: Both in Human form and werewolf form.

He also has another form, which allows him to travel as light as following snow and as fast as striking lightening.

Gender: Male
Age: 104
Personality: Not very caring for humans and would rather run among his wolf brothers and sisters has made him inhospitable with many races. He is very loyal to those befriend him and will kill any foes who try to hurt him or friends. He cares little for mortal laws as long as he has the dirt underneath his paws and the open blue sky above his head.
Combat Prefs: Claws and Fangs and if it comes to it, he is able to turn into a white wolf (not a were) and is able to cast ice magic. He also has the ability to disappear into snow and reappear when in his second form.
Bio: Fang was born to a hunter and a young alchemist 104 years in the mountains between Skyrim and Cyrodiil. At a young age, he was trained to hunt elk and deer. His life was quiet for many years till one day his father came back with a weird smile on his face, his father took Fang up through the mountains to a hidden cave. Inside was a shrine to Hircine, his father explained to him that he would have to die in order for him to gain incredible powers. Fang, not willing to die, took his father's daggar and drived him down onto the altar. At the same time, he summon Hircine who saw the event happen. Hircine bestowed the power of the wolf upon him. Fang lived among the wolves, watching humanity and elven kind fail and fail more and more.

 

[KungfooKat]

Name: Dar'ji, Dar to most his friends
Race: Khajiit
Class: Master Thief/Infiltrator
Gender: Male
Age: 24

Appearance: Dar'ji looks like your average Khajiit. He has dark gray skin, short ears with two earrings on each, and most noticeably three scars across his nose. He is usually in Thieves Guild armor, but wears fine clothes when he isn't on missions.

Combat Prefs: Dar'ji wears Thieves Guild armor while in action. He has an ebony dagger to pull off stealthy kills and is very agile in combat and is famous for his speed. Dar'ji also has a ebony war axe to use if the fight gets up close. He also is very skilled in Illusion magic, and can fool the most focused mind. This skillful Khajiit also uses Alchemy to create potions and poison.

Main skills: Pickpocket - Sneak - Illusion
Secondary Skills: One-Handed - Alchemy - Speech - Lockpicking

Personality: Dar'ji doesn't care for most peoples well being. The only people he cares about are the Thieves Guild and his family. He has a sense of humor, and always jokes. Dar'ji would do almost anything if a good amount of septims are offered. Despite this, he is still loyal to his friends.

Bio: Dar'ji grew up with a friendly Khajiit caravan in Skyrim, and didn't have any friends. The caravan was poor and could not afford much food. When he was eight years old, Dar'ji sneaked into Riften without anyone noticing and stole food from market stalls. As he was about to return to the caravan, a guard caught him and threatened to kill him. In panic, Dar'ji pulled out his rusty old iron dagger and killed the guard. Brynjolf of the Thieves Guild saw the whole thing and took Dar'ji to the Ragged Flagon. There, he was trained to become great thief and earned a good reputation with the guild. Even the Dark Brotherhood tried to recruit him, but Dar'ji turned them down. Assassination wasn't his thing. At the age of just 17, he was one of the most skilled member of the Guild. Dar'ji preferred infiltration, stealing valuables from peoples homes. Many thought he was even better than Vex, the best infiltrator in the Guild. Soon Dar'ji branched away from the Guild and operated on his own. He was still a member, but just isn't seen in the Ragged Flagon much. Then one day on his annual visit to the caravan he grew up with, Dar'ji found his family slaughtered. Bandits had raided the caravan and took what little valuables they had. One of these bandits stayed behind to check if they missed anything of value, and Dar'ji easily took him down and questioned him.The bandit mocked Dar'ji telling him that they were a traveling group and the rest of his group could be anywhere in Skyrim. He killed the bandit and vowed to hunt down the rest of his gang and is now hot on their trail.

Misc: Dislikes Nords, dogs and especially werewolves.

 

[Xarxes]

Name: Xarxes Telvanni

Race: Dunmer

Class: Pyromancer/Blood Mage

Gender: Male

Age: 31

Appearance: Much like my profile picture, standing 5'11" with multiple scars and burns on arms and torso. Often wears an aged and worn version of the Archmage's robe and wears a handmade mask similar to the Dragon Priests

Combat Prefs: Xarxes is a classic Dunmer, he was trained at a young age to control fire and make it his own. He is able to cast massive fireballs at a fast rate and is able to surround himself in a cocoon of fire to block attacks. He has many other techniques that he shows no one.

Personality: Unlike the element he controls, Xarxes is calm and generally a happy person. He is very helpful and will risk life and limb to help those in need. There are things that set him off such as bringing up his dead mother, wife and child.

Bio: Xarxes was born to the Archmagister and his wife in the city of Sadrith Mora in Azure's Coast. At a young age he was brought up by the best teachers and war mages that money could buy. By the age of 15, Xarxes was an intelligent man and a powerful pyromancer in his own right. When he turned 16 he was sent off to Mournhold to continue his schooling. When he was there he met a young girl named Amili, the two both at the tender age of 17, married and moved to a small settlement not far from Red Mountain. The two prospered and had a young child named Teril. Xarxes' mother kept in contact with Xarxes, since his father died, Xarxes was the heir to House Telvanni but since he ran away from his schooling, he couldn't and wouldn't claim it till his little girl with old enough to travel. They lived in peace for 10 short years (Age 27) till Red Mountain erupted, using massive amounts of magical energy he was able to stop the flying rocks and lava from reaching his settlement but it was to no avail. A large boulder fell through his house, starting it on fire. After using the rest of his energy to put out the fire, he discovered his loved wife and child were burned to death. By the time he attained enough sanity to realize he was choking on ashes, he was half buried in ash. Grabbing a blood soaked cloth from his wife and wrapping around his face, he made his way towards Sadrith Mora. A whole year pass by the time he reached his birth home, he discovered that his mother, who was controlling the House during his absence was dead. He left Morrowind and headed towards Skyrim, a man with no home and no family, Xarxes now wanders the forests and tundras of Skyrim.

 

[FrostWolf]

Name: Ardvir the Wolf
Race: Nord / Werewolf
Class: Mage
Gender: Male
Age: 28

Appearance: Though Ardvir is young, his medium length hair is light gray, the color of an ice wolf. He is clean shaven and has black eyes. Ardvir has the typical Nord body built for fighting and stand at about six feet. This Nord is almost always in is Expert Robes of Destruction and Adept Hood. He also has fur boots. In his werewolf form, he looks like most werewolves, except his fur is instead a light gray instead of black.

Combat Prefs and Powers: Ardvir is a master of Destruction, Restoration, and Alteration. He prefers the Frost branch of Destruction, but can use Fire and Shock spells when needed. Unlike most burly Nords, Ardvir is very quick on his feet and also very agile. In situations where magic is not enough, Ardvir will transform into a powerful werewolf. Ardvirs werewolf form is stronger and faster than most werewolves. Unlike most werewolves, he can change into a werewolf whenever he wants with no consequences, and silver does not effect him. Ardvir could still be killed, though, he isn't invincible! If magic and lycanthropy cannot be used, he does have a steel waraxe to use. Even when he is in human form, Ardvir has the heightened senses of the wolf.

Personality: Ardvir is a very cheerful person and very loyal to his allies. He also acts like a wild animal at times, and is known for his cheerful howl. He is known to be selfless and ready to help those in trouble. Ardvir makes friends easily and also has a good sense of humor. Can't talk to beautiful women without making a fool of himself. Although he is a happy person, his temper will rise quickly if someone offends him greatly. Ardvir loves the cold and dislikes the warmer regions of Skyrim. Unlike most people with lycanthropy, Ardvir is proud to be part wolf and is never afraid to boast about it.

Bio: Years ago, an ice wolf pup was born. The pup was healthy and strong and longed to become the Alpha Wolf of his pack. Once he was old enough to run off and go on adventures on his own, the pup was always away from the safety of his pack, playing with his fellow young-lings.

One day, the pup wandered too far from his pack and got lost. He refused to give up and searched for three long days. Soon the pup was too tired to go on. Looking for shelter, he found an old shrine of Hircine. The pup went up to the shrine and howled for help, and died soon after.

Unknown to the young ice wolf, Hircine was the one to hear his call. He admired the pups strong spirit and decided bestow upon him a gift. With his Daedric magic, Hircine transformed the young pup, and the ice wolf was reborn into a young Nord boy. The boy lay asleep by the shrine and did not remember his previous life.

The day after, a nice Nord couple from Winterhold found the boy wrapped in a wolfs pelt at their doorstep. They decided it was a gift from the gods. They named the boy Ardvir the Wolf, after the wolf pelt he was found in. Ardvir was never told that he was not the true child of the Nord couple, and thought he was just a normal boy.

When Ardvir was old enough, he joined the College of Winterhold. Unlike most Nord boys who wanted to become great warriors, Ardvir was interested in the art of magic. While in the College, he surpassed most of the other students, even though he was the youngest and with the least experience. Ardvir excelled specifically in Destruction. He was also very skilled in Restoration and Alteration.

In his adolescent years, Ardvir discovered his love for the wild. Whenever he had free time, Ardvir was hunting outside Winterhold. But he did not hunt with a bow and a quiver of arrows. Ardvir would get down on all fours and chase his prey at amazing speed. It was then that the Nord tapped into the powers of his previous life, but he did not know it.

After a few years, Ardvir graduated from the college at the young age of 19. Though his parents did not wish for Ardvir to embrace himself with magic, they were very proud. But their happiness did not last long.

The people of Winterhold never liked Ardvir, thinking he wasn't normal. A strong, burly Nord becoming a mage was unheard of, and shameful to them. When they discovered Ardvirs hunting sessions, the townspeople came to the conclusion that Ardvir the Wolf was a demon child. The townspeople brought torches and weapons to Ardvirs house and attempted to burn down the house, hoping to kill the inhabitants in it. Ardvir and his parents escaped the burning building, only to find an angry, armed mob at their door.

Under all the pressure, and desire to protect his family, Ardvir changed into a werewolf for the first time. He woke up the next morning in the Frozen hearth inn with no recollection of the previous night. Though no one really told him, Ardvir knew that he had killed people last night. The townspeople didn't dare try to attack Ardvir again, and instead banished him from Winterhold.

In the following years, instead of finding a cure for his lycanthropy, Ardvir lived in the wilds with a pack of wolves. Seeking to control his powers, he lived with the pack for six years. He did not plan to stay in the wilds for that long, but the thrill and the call of his inner wolf clouded his mind. Ardvir came back to Winterhold with full control of his lycan powers after this, and after some convincing, the townspeople welcomed him back into society.

Ardvir went back to the College for a year, re-learning his magical abilities after locking them away for six long years. After this, the Nord decided that he would leave Winterhold and venture to other parts of Skyrim. Ardvir would also comeback to Winterhold every year, but for the most part, he is adventuring in the great land of Skyrim.

 

[Leegolas]

Name: Veldil
Race: Altmer
Gender: Male
Age: 27

Class: Ranger

Appearance:

Veldil has pale skin unlike most Altmers skin which is almost golden. His eyes are unusual yellow, and so is his long hair. This Altmer stands at 5'11, and is fairly tall. He has a smaller build compare to most people, but can show some admirable strength when needed. Veldil also is very fast and agile, being able to outrun the fastest elk and climb the tallest tree. He also has great aim, hitting his targets spot on all the time.

Personality: Veldil does not talk much, except to his close friends. He is considered a man of action, with few words. This Altmer is considered very suave, and has swooned many women in his time. Despite this, he really has no interest in women, and never intends to make them fall in love with him. Veldil also doesn't like crime and tries to apprehend most criminals if he catches them in the act. His friends describe him as a nice high elf, unlike others.

Combat Prefs: Veldil wears a custom green leather armor, with a matching cape. In combat he uses his hand-made long bow, with hand carved steel arrows. He also owns a steel dagger in case he needs to fight up close. In fights, Veldil tries to find a tree or building to shoot his arrows from, raining steel upon his enemies.

Bio: This Elf was born in the Summerset Isles and had a very rough childhood. Veldil was shunned by the other Altmer, even his parents, for his inability to cast any magical spell. He had no friends as a kid and was forced to sleep outside because his own parents did not want him in their house. He was even forced to beg outside for food.

Veldil spent most of his childhood in the forest, climbing and jumping from one tree to another. At the age of 12 he stumbled upon an old bow and a quiver full of rusty iron arrows in the forest. Veldil kept the set of weapons and trained himself to use the bow. He hunted animals in the wild and cooked them since his parents didn't provide him with food.

When Veldil reached the age of 18, he stowed away on a ship that head to High Rock. When he arrived, he met a Breton woman and they fell in love. After three years, they got married and moved to Skyrim. They had a home outside Solitude and lived happily for two years. Sadly, after coming home from hunting one day, Veldil found his wife dead on the floor, and realized they had venomous skeever in their house. His wife died form skeever bits and Veldil was stricken with grief.

Now he doesn't have a real home, and wanders Skyrims wilderness and sets up camp whenever he needs too.

 

[Emerald Rapier]

Name: Destoryer
Level: 64
Style: Wait in the shadows for a time to strike
Favorite Weapons: Daedric daggers/Daedric bow with Daedric arrows
Allies: The Empire
Enemies: Whoever possess a threat
Factions: Dark Brotherhood, The Companions, Thieves guild

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[Emerald Rapier]

dragon

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[Ysmir]

Name: Jorundr Winter-Hide

Race: Nord

Age: 31

Class: Warrior-Bard

Appearance: An average built nord, standing 6' 4", long blonde hair that stops at his shoulders with a beard (check profile pic) multiple scars on arms and chest.

Combat Gear: A large 2H greatsword, and full steel-plate armor with helm.

Personality: A people-person, Jorundr makes friends easily. He also is known to be quite a flirt with the ladies and has had many a bruise from angry lovers. A love of story telling and singing has made him quite a hit at many taverns and inns even though he hasn't been to the Bard School. In battle, he is fast as an arrow and hit like a thunderbolt spell, making him a feared enemy.

Bio: Growing up in Windhelm, Jorundr was a "true" nord through and through. His father was a black smith and his mother was a barmaid at the Candlehearth Hall. As soon as he was able to walk, he was apprenticed by his father into making blades. Jorundr and family lived happily for the coming years making weapons and armor for the hold and its people. One day when Jorundr was 16 his mother was found raped and killed just outside the city gates. His father stricken with grief became a shut-in, leaving the young man to run the forge. Two long years pass before his father commits suicide as well by throwing himself into the forge, unable to keep running the forge, Jorundr sold the shop to Oengul War-Anvil. While cleaning his father's store room, Jorundr found a large steel greatsword forged with great care. Taking his sword and a large pouch of gold Jorundr began to wander Skyrim in search of adventure and stories.

 

[Crusith The Mighty]

Name: Crusith
Race: Khajiit
Class: Vampire Lord
Appearance: all pure white fur in human form/vampire lord appearance in vampire lord form.
Weapons: sword in right hand/ restoration spell of some sort in left.
Personality: I feed on anything that looks tasty.
Allies: any fellow vampires
Enemies: Empire, companions, DAWNGUARD!
Gender: Male

 

[mast3rlinkx]

I have two characters to enter here.


Name: Xxagamorthas (Xxaga)

Age: 50

Gender: Female

Race: Nord (will explain the unusual name in bio)

Class: Warrior

Current Residence: Breezehome in Whiterun

Belief/Religion: She was raised without religion, and, as such, doesn't worship any gods.

Titles/Honorifics: None.

Profession: Mercenary

Attributes: Strength, Endurance, Intelligence

Skills: One-handed, Heavy Armor, Smithing, Archery, Destruction, Block

Weaponry: Daedric Waraxe, Daedric Bow, Daedric Arrows, Ebony Arrows

Vernacular: Nordic, Common, Draconic (from independent research)

Mannerisms: Blunt, Quiet, Headstrong

Morals: She will kill without regret, but she only does it when necessary.

Appearance:

Personality: Xxaga is cold, unfeeling, and has questionable morals. This is not the side of her that shows, though. Outwardly, she is kind, smiley, and a very good person.

Biography: Xxaga was born and raised in a little-known region of Nirn far to the north of Tamriel where she was literally the only Nord. When she was 16, she migrated to Skyrim and was surprised to see that there were more of her kind in the world. At a loss, she eventually settled in Riften, but was forced out a few years later when the rebellion started. Due to her accent and foreign origin, she was not considered a True Nord, and the Stormcloaks drove her out of Riften. Other brutalities were committed against her before being driven out (they were a bit graphic and mature, so I'll not mention them here), which may have been responsible for her current disposition and intense hatred of the Stormcloaks.

Xxaga then found herself in Whiterun, which was more open to foreigners than the Stormcloaks. She vowed to exact revenge on the Stormcloaks for treating her the way they did. After training for a while with the Companions, and aiding them with an internal situation of theirs and gaining entry into the Circle, becoming a werewolf, she traveled to Solitude and joined the Legion. While there, she proved to be an excellent soldier, and swiftly rose to the rank of Legate. She received an ebony waraxe for this, but soon upgraded it with a method she stumbled on. After melting it down and forging it again, she cooled it in the blood of a Daedra, which made the metal stronger and let it hold an edge for much longer, yet be easy to sharpen. This is the weapon she uses regularly.

She then took to killing dragons when they began to return. Xxaga would collect their bones, cutting them from the carcass. Since she wasn't Dragonborn, they weren't rendered skeletal upon death. When she had enough bones, she crafted a suit of armor from them, and it was stronger than most armors she'd worn. This is the equipment set she used ever since, and she's built up a reputation for being one of the best mercenaries in the Hold of Whiterun.



Name: Lai'Quir

Age: Unknown

Gender: Female

Race: Khajiit

Class: Assassin/Thief

Current Residence: Unknown

Belief/Religion: She reveres the Daedric Prince, Nocturnal.

Titles/Honorifics: Nightingale; Agent of Shadow

Profession: Professional Thief

Attributes: Stealth, Agility, Speech

Skills: Sneak, Lockpick, Pickpocket, Archery, Light Armor, One-Handed

Weaponry: Dwarven Dagger, Nightingale Blade, Nightingale Bow, Ebony Arrows

Vernacular: Common

Mannerisms: Enigmatic, shadowy, manipulative

Morals: None

Appearance: The majority of the time, her features are masked by her Nightingale Armor. However, she'll occasionally remove its leather mask to reveal extremely dark brown tabby markings. The markings are so dark that they're almost black, and the stripes actually are black.

Personality: Lai'Quir is very shadowy and mysterious. She talks in a very heavy accent, and refers to herself in the third person like many Khajiit do. The way she talks reveals much information, yet none. She is open, yet withdrawn. To summarize, this mysterious Khajiit is just that: mysterious. Those that know her have often stated that she is one of the most enigmatic people they know, and they are never sure if she's lying or telling the truth. For with Lai'Quir, you can never know what her true motive or meaning is.

Biography: Lai'Quir is a mystery, and her history is no different. She mysteriously appeared in Riften, not being noticed by anyone until she got to the Ragged Flagon Inn in the Ratway. It was assumed she was seen there because she wanted to be seen, but nobody really knows. All they know is that she's a damn good thief.


She turned out a lot of profit for the Guild, and when a betrayal was apparent, she was the one chosen to investigate. It was discovered that the current Guildmaster, Mercer Frey, had killed the previous Guildmaster and defiled the Spire. Even though the Guild prefers to not kill, it was decided that Mercer was to be killed. Lai'Quir delivered the final blow not long after achieving Nightingale status along with Brynjolf. She has since been a thief-for-hire, traveling the whole of Skyrim for work. The Guild is still in need of a Master, however, but for now, Brynjolf is filling the role. Lai'Quir has no desire for leadership, or so it would seem. For with Lai'Quir, you never know.

 

[CHIM]

Name: Daric Endre
Age: 42
Gender: Male
Race: Breton
Current Residence: None -- wanders Skyrim
Belief/Religion: The Nine Divines; with a deep respect for Hircine and Auri-El
Titles/Honorifics: N/A
Afflictions: Lycanthropy
Profession: Adventurer
Class Archetype: Witchhunter
Minor Skills: Blade, Sneak, Speechcraft
Gear: Faded hunter-green miner's clothes, footwraps, arm bandages, leather satchel (containing potions, food, etc.), tempered Hunting Bow, Steel Arrows, Steel Shortsword
Schools of Magic: (actually practiced) Conjuration, Destruction, Mysticism

Preferred spells: Summon Clannfear, Summon Faded Wraith, Searing Grasp, Frost Bolt, Major Life Detection​

Vernacular: Cyrodillic
Mannerisms: Quiet and cold usually, however he is loud and boisterous when intoxicated
Appearance: Daric is lean and muscled, standing roughly at 5’8”. His hair is black and often oiled and slicked back. Handsome and high-browed, with slightly tanned pale skin, high cheekbones, and doe-brown eyes, to most, his appearance would suggest noble rearing, when in fact he is common-born. Daric likes to douse the pretense of nobility, just slightly, and whenever he can, he dresses himself to suit the role, preferring to wear a pair of miner's clothes.

When out adventuring, his attire consists of more practical clothing -- over padding, he keeps his hunter-green miner's clothes, wears reinforced leather greaves and boots, and drapes a weather-worn cloak over his shoulders. He’s rarely seen unarmed and without his hunting bow, at the least. He also has his steel shortsword at his side, which he dual-wields with magic, if the situation permits.

Daric’s voice is smooth, and can almost surely talk his way out of a dispute.
Personality: Daric is a cold person, however he is not cruel. He speaks with a quiet, however commanding tone of voice most of the time, however he tries to be friendly to the people he meets in inns and the like.
Biography: In the year 170 of the Fourth Era, Daric was born to Caine and Caroyn Rielle in Sentinel, Hammerfell. Caine was a smith who’d grown up in Anvil, the son of a lieutenant of the City Guard and a blacksmith, and had stolen aboard the ship Tiber’s Breath as it left for sea when he was sixteen, in search of adventure. The captain had not thrown the young Imperial overboard, and instead took him under his wing and gave him a place on the crew. Caine had been a sailor for eight years until Tiber’s Breath shipwrecked off the coast of Hammerfell in a freak storm. He survived the wreck with a permanent limp, but some of the ship’s cargo and wealth had miraculously survived and washed up alongside him, and he had enough money to start a new life in nearby Sentinel.

Caroyn Herrick was a tailor who had moved to Sentinel two years prior from Wayrest, the daughter of Breton merchants. She sought new prospects in Hammerfell and opened a store in Sentinel, and that was how she met Caine Rielle.

Almost two years had passed when the Great War began, and the Rielles soon found themselves fearing for their lives as Tamriel was swallowed by conflict. They fled north and sought refuge in Wayrest, and only moved back after the Second Treaty of Stros M'Kai was signed. During their eight years in Wayrest, Daric’s parents found the money to give him a few years’ worth of proper education.

Daric never seemed to be able to put on much muscle, and stayed relatively thin and lean regardless of how much he ate. Caine decided that the forges were not the place for him, but also decided that his son needed to learn how to defend himself. By the time Daric was starting to grow into manhood, he could wield a blade well enough. It was roughly at around that time that Caine also found the means to provide Daric with instruction in magic; Daric showed some promise in the school of Illusion, but the funds ran out and he was never able to complete his studies with his mage tutor.

When Daric turned nineteen, he left home with his parents’ blessing, with a blade at his belt, leather and linen on his back, and a rucksack with his few belongings over his shoulder. He took a ship to Anvil, and from there made his way through Cyrodiil, clearing out old caves and forts, taking up mercenary contracts whenever he needed the money, meeting new friends and making new enemies, refining his skills in combat and learning new ones. He traveled throughout Tamriel for twelve years, tasting exotic foods and drink, learning bits of foreign languages, seeing more sights than he should be able to remember, and generally experiencing all that the world had offer.

Some time ago, he arrived in Skyrim and was crossing Hjaalmarch when he was set upon by a werewolf. By all means, he should’ve died, but luckily he’d been travelling with a silver blade at his belt for a time, and he managed to injure the beast enough. The werewolf fled and Daric had survived the encounter, but not before contracting lycanthropy. Since then, he has struggled with this new curse, and has also taken up worship of the Daedric Prince Hircine in some vain hope that the Prince will be able to cure his affliction. His lycanthropy has not by any means diminished his thirst for adventure, and Daric refuses to allow the affliction to throw his life off course.

 

[BlackLight]

Name: Cain Arnel​

Race: Breton​

Gender: Male​

Age: 30​

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Appearance: Cain stands at about 5'10, and is slim, but he has a fair amount of muscle. He has long dark grey hair that flows down to his neck. His face is clean shaven, though there is some stubble at times. Cain has hazel eyes and has slightly pale skin. On top of his left eye, there is a noticeable scar that goes to his left ear. In reality, Cain does not have a left arm. In its place is a temporary conjured arm which he maintains throughout most of the day. The arm is only gone during the night, while Cain sleeps.​

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Class / Profession / Job: Monster Hunter ​

Skills: Conjuration, Destruction, One-Handed​

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Combat Gear: Ebony robes (black adept robes, but with some Ebony plating for extra protection), Ebony boots. Carries a silver sword on his back, and has a pouch containing potions and poisons.​

Combat Characteristics: Cain always uses a bound bow if he could and will summon atronachs to assist him if needed. He also uses destruction spells in battle. Cain only pulls out his silver sword if his magicka runs low.​

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Beliefs / Religion: Follower Stendarr​

Relationships: Married​

Personality: Cain is a man of few words, but he talks very smoothly when he is speaking. He is a fairly nice man but has a short temper that he tries to control. Cain also has a very big appetite and loves to eat.​

Likes: Animals, food, most of the people of Skyrim, his wife.​

Dislikes: Monsters (werewolves, vampires, witches etc.), drunkards, Thalmor.​

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Bio: Cain was born in Chorral, Cyrodil. Cain Arnel was not his birth name, but rather an alias he created for himself in adulthood. A few months after he was born, his home was ransacked by thieves and his parents were killed in the process. Because of this, Cain never knew his parents. ​

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After the tragedy, Cains traveling uncle took him back to his homeland of High Rock. There he grew up in Wayrest and was enrolled into the Mages Guild. He excelled in Conjuration, as most Bretons do, and Destruction. ​

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Cain left the Guild when he was 20 and decided to explore Tamriel with his uncle. They went south to Hammerfell and then into Cyrodil. While attempting to cross into Skyrim, Cain and his uncle were attacked by a werewolf. Cain escaped, but his uncle was killed. ​

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After the death of his beloved uncle, Cain met a girl who was member of the Silver Hand. Jennah was a new recruit of the Silver Hand who was tracking the werewolf that killed Cains uncle after it escaped from Skyirm. Cain accompanied Jennah and eventually found the werewolf, along with a pack of four others. ​

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Miraculously Cain and Jennah were victorious after a grueling fight. Jennahs mastery of the sword and Cains skill with magic were too much for the pack. Though the victory came with a price. During the battle, Cains left arm was bitten off by one of the werewolves. ​

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After this encounter, Cain used his skill with Conjuration to create a fake arm and also convinced Jennah to train him to fight werewolves. After a year of training, Cain was able to kill a werewolf without breaking a sweat. He also learned to fight other monstrosities such as vampires. ​

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During his training, Cain fell in love with Jennah. When his training was over, Cain married Jennah and they moved into a house in Chorral, Cains hometown. After the marriage, Jennah quit the Silver Hand and lived a peaceful life. Cain worked as a monster hunter for hire to make septims and changed that was when he took the name "Cain Arnel". His reputation grew in Cyrodil and he was well known by most people.​

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When he was 29, Cain decided to move to Skyrim in memory of his uncle, who died before they made it there. He and Jennah bought a house in Falkreath and Cain continued his work as a monster hunter.​

 

[EX KingKobra]

Ooh this looks fun. Mind if I jump in?

Character name: Dian'Mie
Race: Redguard
Age: 20
Gender: Male




Class: Warrior

Beliefs: Adopts a variation of the ideas of Boethiah
Affiliation: N/A
Profession: Adventurer
Current residence: Markarth, Skyrim
Looks: About 6'2, strongly built, dark skin, black mohawk and beard, red war paint around brown eyes and on the neck
Personality: He comes off as kind of cold to those who do not know him due to his obsession of the Orsimer, but is actually quite kind. He strives to better his skills through training. Hates the Orsimer with a passion.

Combat Gear: Ebony Armor
Skills: Two Handed, Archery
Weapons: Alucard's Fang (Daedric Greatsword)
Soul of Deja (Ebony Bow)
Bio: Dian'Mie, formerly known as Dian'Mie Sun Fang is a native of Gilane in Hammerfell. He has been trained in the sword arts since he was 7. He was able to learn at a quickening rate, impressing his clan leaders so much that he was named Sword Master at the age of 14, the youngest of anybody in the clan who earned the title. When Dian'Mie was 16, his clan was attacked by a rogue Orc band, killing every member of his clan and leaving him as the only survivor. He blames himself for the failure of not being there to help defend the clan and has dropped the Sun Fang clan tag from his name as he believes he has lost the right to call himself a member of it.
Now 20, he's been searching Orc strongholds all around Tamriel. His travels have taken him from Cyrodill to Morrowind and everywhere in between. His hatred has him slaying any Orc that deters him from his path. He will not rest until he finds the ones who killed his clan.

 

[Shouts-At-Dragons]

Name: Captain Bormir

Race: Nord

Gender: Male

Class: (Somewhat of a Rogue)

Looks:

Personality: Very outgoing, loves sailing the seas and having a bottle of mead in his hand. Does not have a hatred of any race from Tamriel, but is not a fan of High Elves. Very easy going and you have to be doing something really stupid or wrong to get Bormir angry. Bormir is a hard working person and will not give up, even at the hardest of tasks.

Combat: Bormir does not experience much combat, even on the open seas. And when pirates attempt to attack his ship, they are usually easily defeated by his hired mercenaries. Bormir has his own steel sword for self-defense and has been trained by his father in the skill of one-handed.

 

[Shew]

Ever just want to have a like spamming of a thread.... That is how I feel everytime there is a new character to read!

 

[Gunnbjorn]

Character Name: Arillious Peleus​

Race: Imperial/Nord
Class: Warrior
Looks:

• Height: 6'5"
• Weight: 240 lbs. (Nord Stature)
• Age: 18
• Hair: Military Buzz Cut, clean-shaven. No scars.

Personality:
Arillious comes from a military family involved with the Imperial Empire and the Blades. He is naturally loyal is thirsty to make a name for himself to add to his families legacy. When interacting with others he is usually quiet, most always thinking before speaking. He is one to try and make the most valid of points and loves to argue. His Imperial side seems to overcome his Nord side when speaking to others in out-of-combat situations. However, most of the time he talks as if he is a hardened warrior in a kids body - and when it comes to battle, he is mighty and ruthless - seeking dominance in all who oppose him. His Nordic side truly shines when he is in the thick of battle. He is one that can be trusted and is very loyal to his comrades and his friends as in his nature. He is always one to try and lighten the mood with a little humor when appropriate. He loves to argue, and he will be rather ruthless if he is mad at you. In combat, he will constantly joke and openly mock and taunt his enemies. He loves to get under peoples skin. During awkward silences or heated standoffs, look to Arillious and await his snide remark or rude comment, or perhaps a particularly inappropriate observation.
Combat Preferences:
Arillious prefers a giant Battle-Axe. He wears Imperial Armour. He is very aggressive in battle, and is most often the Vanguard in most situations. His whole purpose is to make a name for himself, and for people to know who he is in his travels, because of this he abandons wearing a helmet. To most warriors it would come as a great risk, but Arillious does not want to be seen as an ordinary soldier. He wants his enemies to see every detail of the face of their opponent, and to be able to easily look into his eyes and see that the desire for honor and glory burns inside of him. Witness as he lets out an intense battle cry before throwing himself into the lust of battle only a young Soldier like himself would enjoy so much.

 

[Simus]

You know Aurillious, I just had a thought. How can this eighteen year old boy be a Blade when the Blades were all but wiped out before he was born? Even of his equipment is all family heirlooms, would he not be hunted down like a dog by the Thalmor?