Name: Eyja
Gender: Female
Race: Nord
Age: 24
Affiliation: The Silver Hand
Physical appearance: Eyja has long golden hair that is efficiently twisted away from her face into a bun, classically fair nordic skin, and pale green eyes. She has a sharp jawline, soft lips, high cheekbones, and a lightly freckled nose. In mar of her beauty, Eyja’s face is inflicted with a jagged claw scar that spans from the top left of her face to the bottom right, and that continues on to curl around her neck. Her body is slender but strong with a lithe 5’4” build. Eyja wears dark coloured light armour, including gloves and a hood; and she wields two silver daggers, which she has affectionately named Þykkr and Þunnr.
Personality: In spite of her mostly pleasant appearance, Eyja has a very angry and bitter personality that was born in response to the slaughter of her family. As the only survivor of her family’s murder and filled with guilt, Eyja retreated within her self, utilising her newfound anger and hate of werewolves to defend her personal weaknesses against the harshness of her new life. Growing up within an isolated community in Skyrim’s east, Eyja is a socially inept, abrupt, insecure, and sarcastic individual. With the addition of her vicious scarring, Eyja has almost no self-esteem and she feels that no one could ever, or will ever, love her.
Combat skills and style: Eyja has major expertise in one-handed weapons, alchemy, and sneak. And minor expertise in archery and illusion magick. In combat, Eyja prefers the ways of the assassin. She either utilises her silver daggers soaked in poison and sneaks up on her prey under the effects of a muffle spell and guts them from behind; or she stays at a distance and under a veil of silence fires paralytic arrows into her prey from afar, impaling and killing them without being discovered.
Strengths and weaknesses: Eyja is strong against the unaware, those susceptible to poison, and creatures that have no defence against illusions. Eyja is weak against physically strong warriors, creatures with inhuman capabilities such as werewolves (although she is learning ways around their abilities with the use of strong poisons), children who remind her of her beloved little sister, and attractive men who flirt with her.
History: At the age of eleven, her mother, father, and little sister were brutally killed before her eyes by savage beasts in their little house a days travel south-east of Ivarstead. Horrified by what was happening, Eyja did all that she could with her weak body and meagre skills, and attempted to flee. As she jumped from a window and ran across the dry grass and stone path leading into a small copse of trees beside her house she was tackled to the ground by one of the creatures—a massive wolfish beast. Which proceeded to grip her by the neck and drag her body along the ground, flipping her over and exposing her face to its claws. Terrified, she screamed as it rended her flesh, roaring with animalistic malice. Exhausted and incapacitated with pain, she welcomed the dark embrace of unconsciousness. Hoping that it was all just a nightmare, and if it was not, that she was at least slipping into the cold arms of death.
It was not to be. Eyja awakened beneath a pile of furs by the warmth of a fire, bandaged and healed by a group of travelling hunters who said that they had found her still alive body in the aftermath of a small massacre. Confused, terrified, and anguished, she answered all of their questions in a haze. Barely noticing when they agreed to help her get to Ivarstead, to her only remaining family. She didn’t care where they took her. Nothing mattered. Her family was dead, and she was alone.
And so, Eyja moved to Fellstar Farm in north Ivarstead to live with her aunt Boti, her aunt’s husband Jofthor, and her cousin Fastred. She grew up in their humble farm, learning to till the ground and care for the animals. But even as she continued to live within a world that had ripped away her innocence and left her with nothing, she remembered. Festering within her soul was an anger towards the beasts that had slaughtered her family, beasts that she had learned to name—werewolves. And like her cousin Fastred, she too had a dream that lied outside of her simple life, but hers was not so benign. Eyja didn’t want glory or adventure, the simpering of the masses or the love of insipid admirers. Eyja wanted death, she wanted eradication… she wanted revenge.
And she was going to get it. When her cousin Fastred finally got her wish and eloped with Bassianus Axius to Riften, Eyja, a young lady of seventeen, too left Ivarstead. As she left her new place of dwelling (because no other building would ever again be a home), Eyja set out to join the Silver Hand, enshrouding herself within the ways of the assassin—her journey just beginning.
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