Info Character Profiles

[Explicandum]

It's my first character card on these forums so bear with me.

Name: Ennoc Frey
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Race: Breton
Class: Witchhunter
Current Residence: Riften; more specifically the Ragged Flagon
Belief/Religion: Servant of the Mistress of Shadows
Titles/Honorifics: Member of the Nightingale Trinity
Profession: Thief/Nightingale
Attributes: Agility, Intelligence
Skills: Alchemy, Athletics, Conjuration, Destruction, Marksman, Mysticism, Security
Weaponry:

Cold Soul - A Daedric Dagger enchanted with Soul Trap and Frost Damage​

Vampire's Reversal - A Nightingale Bow enchanted with Absorb Health and Fire Damage​

Fearful Mage - An Ebony Sword enchanted with Absorb Magicka and Fear​

Conjuration spells - Conjure Dremora Lord, Conjure Wrathman, Dead Thrall​

Alteration spells - Detect Life, Detect Dead, Candlelight​

Illusion spells - Invisibility, Muffle, Mayhem​

Restoration spells - Heal Other, Close Wounds, Grand Healing​

Vernacular: Cyrodillic
Mannerisms: Quiet, calm
Morals: Ennoc has no qualms about killing people; however will not kill them in the first place if they do not cross him, the Thieves Guild, or the Mistress of Shadows.
Appearance:

Personality: Ennoc is a kind person to his friends, usually helping them out in as many ways as he can. In battle he is ruthless, unforgiving and sometimes unorthodox in his methods, but he gets the job done. He is known by the other Nightingales and the Sentinels in the Twilight Sepulcher to be devoted to Nocturnal almost entirely.
Biography: Ennoc was sent to The Reach in Skyrim with his parents to colonise the area. His father was a hunter and guard, his mother a saleswoman. At the age of thirteen Ennoc was not surprised when the Nords attacked The Reach from those in Markarth. Already trained with a bow and a knife, Ennoc was sent away from the town he lived in to travel to a place across Skyrim called Riften. His father muttered a small prayer as he left as to bless Ennoc and safeguard him in his travel, before being struck down by Ulfric Stormcloak.

Fending for himself in the wild, Ennoc came across a wild horse, which he tamed quite quickly and called him Hoarfrost. Using the horse not as a pack mule but as a friend, he developed a close bond with the beast. Ennoc's first combat situation was when he was attacked by a small group of bandits. He used his bow to great effect and only stabbed and slashed with a knife when the marauders got close. Still surprised at his skills Ennoc continued to Riften.

After what seemed to be many cycles in Skyrim he arrived in Riften, where he was approached by a shadowy woman and man, and was led in the Ratway, leaving Hoarfrost at the stables. There in the shady tavern he was explained why he was sent to Riften; his father was a Nightingale, his mother a Dark Brotherhood Assassin. He was confronted about choosing who he would join and picked being a Nightingale, without even being told what would entail. The woman told him that his father had muttered a prayed to Nocturnal to keep him alive, but as her (Nocturnal's) protector.

With the skills he had and those he learnt from the woman, whose name was Niluva, he became a Nightingale. He surprisingly effective in combat and in stealth, which was noted by Niluva. As a Nightingale he traveled to Winterhold and mastered four of the five schools of magic; conjuration, alteration, illusion and restoration. He met his current lover, Arriana Rusonius, at the College of Winterhold, where she studied the school of Conjuration.

 

[Six Gun Tarot]

Name: Charon
Race: Breton
Age: 38
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Class: Sorcerer (Of sorts)/ Daedric Warlock (Able to call on different powers of the Oblivion realm to help him)
Gender: Male
Looks: Standing 5' 10", pale and blue eyes. Black hair kept cut to around his the base of his neck with the bangs cut just above the eyes, Has a number of daedric symbols on his left hand and arm and various other magical symbols on his right hand and arm.
Gear: A set of robes similar to the Archmages robes only a bit more on the used and worn side.
Personality: Often seen as cold and calculating by those around him, but those who get to know him see him as one who would sacrifice his own life to save another.
Combat Prefs: Using a large variety of spells to take down his enemy and if the need is dire, he has the power to use the dark magic of Oblivion to smite his foes.
Misc: He is a daedric follower (not a champion in anyway) and has read many ancient tomes on the subject of daedric magic which has allowed him to use it.

 

[Explicandum]

Name: Dar'Vanni
Age: 42
Gender: Male
Race: Khajiit
Class: Rogue
Current Residence: None -- wanders Skyrim with Ri'saad's trade caravan
Belief/Religion: Believer in the Lunar Lattice
Titles/Honorifics: N/A
Profession: Pawnbroker
Attributes: Personality, Speed
Skills: Alchemy, Athletics, Blade, Block, Illusion, Light Armour, Mercantile
Weaponry:

Hunter's Eupepsia- A Hunting Bow enchanted with Absorb Health and Huntsman's Prowess​

Magi's Qualm- A Steel War Axe enchanted with Absorb Magicka and Fear​

Circlet of Alchemy - A Copper and Ruby Circlet with Fortify Alchemy​

Illusion spells - Muffle, Calm​

Destruction spells - Flames​

Vernacular: Cyrodillic, Ta'agra
Mannerisms: Quiet, manipulative, collected
Morals: Dar'Vanni has no qualms about killing, though he will always try to talk his way out of a situation and/or intimidate his way out before resulting to battle.
Appearance:

Personality: Dar'Vanni is usually an private person, and uncommonly comfortable around non-Khajiits, considering their persecution. He can open up to people he is close with.
Biography: Dar'Vanni was born to parents Dahlima and Anurassa whilst they were caravanning around Skyrim. His father sought to teach and pass down the mercantile business he held, but Dar'Vanni wanted to fight and learn magic, so his family made their way to Winterhold so Dar'Vanni could pursue his interests. His father enlisted a mercenary who taught Dar'Vanni how to fight and wield a bow, whilst he learnt magic through tomes and the teachers at the College of Winterhold.

When he was ten, his parents were killed by passing Stormcloak soldiers and destroyed the caravan. Dar'Vanni was not near them at the time; he was hunting for his father. When he came back and saw his parents lying dead he wept in anguish, only to be seen, or rather heard, by Ri'saad. Not wanting anything to with the caravan anymore, Dar'Vanni passed it onto Ri'saad, but followed the caravan wherever it went.

He was subject to some racial hate when the Khajiit arrived in Whiterun and reasoned his way out of a fight. Ri'saad noted this and explained to Dar'Vanni that he should work alongside him as pawnbrokers, or traders. Ri'saad taught him the skills of mercantile whilst Dar'Vanni defended the caravan from hateful Nords. The caravan flourished, and attracted many new customers; who most of the time sought the skooma that Dar'Vanni brewed.

Dar'Vanni developed a romantic relationship with Khayla, but died out to a close friendship when they realised that Ri'Saad would not allow it as it "drove away customers".

The caravan set up a camp not that far from Whiterun, where it attracted visitors all around Skyrim to buy their wares. The wares consisted of anything the Khajiits found, scavenged or even stolen, and became a fence for the Thieves Guild.

 

[Kalin of High Rock]

Character name: Kalin Turyvi, Kalin of High Rock.





Race: Breton
Class: Mage, apprenticed in destruction, alteration and restoration.
Gender: Female
Age: 25

Looks: Slight of height and build, though nearly always bundled in double thick fur-lined robes to ward off the savage Skyrim chill. She has intelligent amber eyes and bright auburn hair twisted into braids that hang shoulder length and frame her youthful face, cheeks and nose nearly always reddened by cold.

Personality: Exuberant and youthful, Kalin Turyvi is an unlikely adventurer. An aspiring mage apprenticed to the masters of Winterhold, she is undertaking a journey in search of hidden and ancient artifacts. She approaches all tasks with youthful enthusiasm and is often more than a touch naive, though she has learned to be wary of the insular Nords in these times of civil unrest. A child of the Imperial Heartland, she is clearly ill suited to Skyrim's harsh northern climate and is more often than not obscured beneath multiple layers of cloth and furs. Cheerful and easy-going around those she trusts, she loves nothing more than the comfort of hearth and hall, with good friends at her side and a tome in her lap.

Combat Prefs: Wall of Flames, Fireball, Rune of Fire, Greater Wards, Ironflesh.

Misc: A child of mixed parentage, Kalin's father was a Breton; Halister Toryvi, a mason called to The Imperial Province to aid in the rebuilding efforts in the years after the great war. There he met the woman who would become Kalin's mother; Shiala Leviticus, a proud and fierce imperial importer.


Kalin grew a commoner, aiding her mother with a successful trading business from the port city of Anvil. The warm summer nights and soft grass between her toes would soon become a distant and cherished memory. As Kalin grew, so did her interest in the workings of the arcane. Unwilling to join The Imperial Synod and be groomed to bandy to one witless lord or another, or play petty politics for favor of The Emperor, Kalin chose to set out north and seek admission to the storied College of Winterhold.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

[Amanti]

Name: Amanti Usignolo

Race: Imperial


Age: 23

Gender: Female

Class: Thief/Nightingale-in-Training

Looks: Fairly tall standing at 5' 8" with long black hair that she keeps in a knot when wearing the Nightingale Armor, bright green eyes, and fairly pale skin.

Personality: Kind and cheerful, Amanti has gained friends in many areas of Skyrim. Her attitude makes her enemies thinks she's harmless till they are robbed blind. She can be abit on the eccentric side but her happiness is her friends' happiness.


Gear: A set of Nightingale Armor, and a Nightingale Bow. When not thiefing around Skyrim, she wearing noble clothes she swiped off a noble lady on her way to Solitude.

Combat Prefs: If she can't talk, sneak or trick her way out of the fight, Amanti will use her bow and accurately strike down foes at a distance.

Misc: Amanti was raised by the Thieve's Guild in Riften, although she never knew her father and mother, the thieves would make remarks that her mother was a great thief in her own right. Amanti grew up robbing the merchants of Riften and learned the tricks of the trade early and fast. She learned that she had a knack for not only pick-pocketing but lock-picking as well. Time passed when she was finally inducted into the Nightingales, she took her oath and began training under the Nightingale of Shadow. Amanti was then allowed to roam Skyrim free, thieving and stealing anything not tied down.

 

[ComElephant]

Name: Kostas Grey - Mane

Race: Breton/Nord​

​

Age: 51

Gender: Male

Class: Spellsword

Looks: Slightly aged face, grey hair, knotted beard, long hair, green eyes

Personality: Kostas is rather quiet and keeps to himself, not speaking to people who he doesn't have any business with. Generally a nice person.

Gear: Master Robes of Destruction, Arch Mages Robes, Ebony Mail Armour and Fine clothes and fine boots when in public since he is rather wealthy

Combat Prefs: Daedric Weapons, Fireball, Thunerbolt, Fast Healing​

​

Misc: Kostas was raised by a wealthy Breton family in Daggerfall, High Rock. His Nord father, related to the clan Grey - Mane, died during the sack of the Imperial City. Wanting revenge on the Thalmor, Kostas joined the Legion and only served during the Battle of the Red Ring as a Imperial Battle Mage and also a healer. Wanting to move away from the boring Breton lifestyle, Kostas moved to Skyrim with his mother and settled down in Markarth. When his mother passed, he wanted to continue the war against the Thalmor. Kostas was then informed about the Stormcloaks, and alot of things happened after that.​

 

[Mr.Self Destruct]

(Just a new character I've been thinking about, my second, actually.)

Name: Kenji
Race: Khajiit
Age: Young adult
Gender: Male
Class: Rogue

Looks: Sand colored tan fur, with bands of white and black. Kenji's eyes are of a fierce, deep blue color akin to sapphires. He has high cheekbones, and a subtle jawline giving him a more youthful appearance. Normally wears little armor aside from leather braces and a breastplate, preferring to be light on his feet. Aside from his armor, he normally wears a navy blue cloak which is fastened around the neck, and a comfortable set of expensive clothes which fit under his armor. While he tends to avoid combat, when push comes to shove he owns a steel short-sword which he is quite proficient in it's use, along with a wooden hunting bow and a quiver of steel arrows. Normally, however, he tends to stick to using his claws in combat.

Personality: Kenji is a friendly individual, who loves socializing and getting to know others. At times, he can be quite the charmer, experienced in dealing with other individuals. However at times he can talk too much, getting himself in trouble quite often. It's as if he never stays quiet, even in the face of danger he'll continue to make trenchant comments, giving him a reputation of being a smart alec. Some consider him brave to say the things he does, while others consider him too stupid to know not to. While it is true Kenji isn't the smartest when it comes to academics, he loves the arts and loves reading about music and written stories. Although he isn't exactly good at playing, he carries with him a cheap lute which he loves to play.

Biography: For most of his life, Kenji lived with his father, traveling with a Khajiit trading caravan across Tamriel. Kenji was originally born in Bravil, a shanty cesspool of a city within the southern marshes of Cyrodiil. When Kenji was a mere cub, his mother became sickly and died. Kenji's father decided to sell his home, all of his belongings and go and live the nomadic life with his friend's trading caravan. Together they traveled all across Tamriel, from Valenwood to Hammerfell, to High Rock to Morrowind, across the marshes of Argonia and the sands of his ancestral homeland, Elsewyr. Kenji and his father were very close, always happy together and their life.

Kenji learned his ways as a con man from a young age, from his father. Together swindling whomever lived in whichever city the carvan was stopped at with supposed miracle potions and other frauds. He was very charismatic, the other cubs in the caravan looked up to him. However, as he reached adulthood and the caravan was on it's way to the frozen lands of Skyrim, his father became addicted to Skooma. By the time they had reached the birthplace of man, Kenji's father had passed away. He left the caravans soon after, with the memory of his father in his heart he began a life of adventure.

 

[Garashbur]

Name: Garashbur
Race: Frost Troll
Age: 6 (adolescence in troll years)
Gender: Male
Equipment: Standard Dawn-guard armored troll armor
Bio: Garashbur was born into the Skyrim Zoo. He was taught to talk and communicate with humans. At age 3 he was donated to the Dawn-Guard to help defeat the vampires. After Lord Harkon was eliminated, there was no longer a use for armored trolls, and they were to be exterminated. Trolls were not to be friends of man or mer. All of the trolls were eliminated, but Garashbur barely escaped. He broke out of the Dawn-Guard castle and fought his way back into the wild. He was unable to get the armor off, so he is exiled by both his once friends, the humans, and his family, other trolls. He got used to having the armor on at all times. Although it slowed him down, whenever he could catch a glimpse of himself in a lake, he would think he looked better than the other trolls, more... civilized. There are crude drawings on his armor, that he carved in with his claws, varying from smily faces, to telling picture stories. He tried carving his name into his chestplate, but he only remembered the first three letters GAR.

 

[Start Dale]

- Name: Donmjark

- Gender: Male

- Race: Nord

- Age: Mid twenties in most RP's

- Class: Warrior: Two-Handed/Archer; preferring to use arrows to attack further away enemies before then rushing the closer enemies with Two-Handed Melee attacks. Weapons: Two-Handed Weapons; Steel Battleaxe (Superior), Bow; Imperial Bow (Superior), Arrows; Ancient Nord/Iron/Steel. He has a minor ability with restoration able to use a basic novice level Healing spell.

- Physical Description: Armour: Steel Plated: Armour, Gauntlets, Boots and Helmet. He is 6ft tall of athletic heavy build. Pale skinned with blue eyes. He has red hair, trimmed tight to his head and a cropped short beard. His physical abilities are in two handed, heavy armour and archery which shows in his movements.

-History/Biography: Raised in Markarth, his family were thrown out of their property when the father lost his job in the mines due to Prisoners being forced into the role. They then as a family travelled Skyrim doing random labouring jobs. Eventually the family settled in a farm and grew crops. When he came of age Donmjark left home and started adventuring, he has cut his teeth on Draugr explorations. As well as getting involved in Forsworn conflicts and raids. He now works mainly as a mercenary for Imperial forces or anyone else who can afford him.

- Personality: Quiet and reserved, though not shy, he prefers to maintain his own counsel till he is certain of the best course of action. He has a sarcastic and flippant side especially when dealing with authority figures. A mercenary he puts a high value on his own safety, so will ensure he takes jobs based on his survival odds and set the price accordingly. He has a weakness for women, especially the brash sword maidens that Skyrim breeds, this has caused him trouble before so he tries to be wary of them, yet he usually ends up not resisting in the long run.

- Other relevant info: When stressed in tight situations he can be impatient with those around him; he doesn’t like being this way which can serve to only exacerbate the problem.

 

[Dinkleberg]

*Already posted, but had an idea for another char *​

​

-Name: Genesis Ikstov (known as "Jik-Zaw" among Argonians)​

​

-Race: Nord/Argonian​

​

-Age: 22 (in human years)​

​

-Gender: Male​

​

-Class: Wealthy trader/stockholder within the East Empire Trading Company; Disciple of Namira​

​

-Looks: Uses illusion and alteration spells to retain a "Nord-looking" appearance (5'7'', baby-faced, medium, curly blonde hair, fair-skinned, dressed in white, expensive garbs made of snowy sabre-tooth cat pelt). Without the spells, his skin is naturally dry and scaly, like any other Argonian, but retains his human build.​

​

-Personality: Out in public, he is always quite cocky and confident about himself, and at times can even be a loudmouth. He may act even more stubborn in front of people he actually trusts, just because he knows them that well. When hunting, he doesn't hide his true appearance. He fights like a surgeon, slowly picking away at each part of his opponent until they can no longer fight. Even eating them once he's victorious, then returning back to the public like nothing had happened.​

​

-Combat Prefs: Fair Trade (personal hunting bow), Fire magicka (loves "cooking his meals" before feeding time), Illusion & Alteration magicka (used to hide his hybrid appearance when not in combat)​

​

-Bio/Misc: Genesis was born from a Nordic mother and Argonian father, both of whom were wealthy merchants. As a child, others would make fun of Genesis's appearance; and at the time, it never really bothered him. Eventually it got to him, causing him to run away from his parents and former life. He mastered Illusion magic to conceal his Argonian features which he viewed as "imperfections", and from there joined the East Empire Trading Company. After becoming a well known name amongst the company, he stumbled upon and is now a disciple of the Shrine of Namira. He lives a double-life as a young entrepreneur by day, and a blood-thirsty cannibal by night.​

 

[R'alle]

Name: R'alle(pronounced Rally)
Sex:Male
Age:13
Appearance: 4'4. Weighs 96 Ilbs. Look at my profile pic for physical look. White with brown marks on both arms.
Race: Khajiit
Backstory: Personal if you wanna know. ....ask him
Purpose: Wants to make a difference in skyrim anyway he can.
Skills: Stealthy, uses claws , very intelligent, tactical thinking process.
Weakness: gullible , he also loves sweets

 

[jasno5000]

Hi
I would really like to get into a RPG if anyone is interested. Attached is a bit of history of my character, please have a read of it.

Name: Vermar
Sex: Male
Race: Nord
Class: Warrior
Apperance: Nearly 7 foot, long dark hair, pale skin, well muscled and scar on right cheek from a troll attack.
Purpose: To find the Dragon that killed my family (see attached file)
Skills: A seasoned warrior, very skilled with a War Axe.
Bio: Please please read attached.

 

[solace84]

Name: Dalious Durendail
Race: Imperial
Sex: Male
Appearance: (view signature)
Skills: Use of one-handed weapons and shields, bows. Skilled with weapons, but very skilled with the ladies.
Bio: Dalious started his career as one of the few Penitus Oculatus Agents, serving the Empire for many years. During his serve, he made dear friends with one of his fellow agents: Felian Oakenshield, a wood elf. Years later, Felian was gone away and Dalious decided to take a new step in life when he heard the Arena was opened once again. Dalious volunteered to fight in the Arena and he continued to do so on and off throughout his stay in Cyrodil. The people of the Imperial City have labeled him as one of the few 'Champions', because he had never lost. It was when the wood elf Felian and Dalious reunited again after all these years that Dalious became an enemy to his own people. Felian and his group of followers had become slave to the Arena, and they staged an escape. During this escape, Dalious played a key role in securing their freedom which has since branded Dalious an enemy of Cyrodil and the Empire. He escaped himself and has traveled north to Skyrim, to start a new life.

(The story of Felian w/ a cameo of Dalious is here:The Arena: Gladiators of Tamriel)

 

[Amanti]

(Decided to make a 2nd RP character, hope he is acceptable as he is designed off an other game character)

Name: Rennes of Lillandril (Alias: The White Wolf)

Race: Supposed Imperial

Gender: Male

Age: Unknown but thought to be in early to mid 30s

Class: Witcher

Look: Pale skin with multiple scar wounds covering his chest and back, golden eyes with a single slash going down from the left side of his temple down to middle of his cheek. Milk white hair often with the top layer tied back and the rest falling down to about his shoulders.

Gear:
Kinslayer Armor

Weeper-Silver Sword (For magical creatures) (Right Side)
Mourner-Steel Sword (For non-magical creatures and humans) (Left Side)

Personality: Rennes is a man of little word and much action, letting his actions speak for him. He has often tried to "sit on the fence" and has tried not to take sides in any conflicts but many tend to drag him in.

Combat Prefs: Mediation and drinking various potions before combat and then taking down his foe is how Rennes operates. Although he is able to enter battle with out doing so he prefers to do so as to calm his mind and prepare. Fighting with a unique fighting style, Rennes also uses various Hexes and Signs, a form of magic that is only used by witchers.

Backstory: Rennes was a young orphan who's parents died after their ship crashed into the cost of the Summerset Isle, being found by an old mage, he was taken to Lillandril to be trained in the Wolf School, a hidden and secret school that trained and mutated orphans to become witchers. Throughout the years after the war, Rennes wandered the Isles slaying monsters that the Thalmor couldn't slay. After gathering enough coin, Rennes bought a ticket to ride to Skyrim, Where he now travels in search of more coin.

 

[ConnortheImperial]

Name: Connor
Race: Imperial
Age: 20
Height: 6'2
Alliances: The Companions, Imperial Army, Pentaus Occulus.
Background: Connor was born in Cyrodill he was the third son of Legate Kevin Potema and the great grandson of the wolf queen Potema. Connor was raised as a young age to be a warrior. At the age of twelve Connor had master the skill of sword and was very adept at blocking. Seeing his son natural ability with the sword he sent Connor abroad to study the correct way of wielding the sword and various one handed weapons. At the age of 18 Connor was sent to Hammerfell to study under the Redgaurds. While in Hammerfell Connor recieved the news about there being a great war. Fearing for his son Leagate Potema ordered the Redgaurds to sneak his son into skyrim:

Skills: While being in skyrim Connor has honed his skills as a swordsman. His renowned skills have been the reason Connor has been advanced to legate at the very young age of 21. After destroying the Dark Brotherhood Connor joined the companions were he now stands as acting Harbringer. His stint with the companions has also giving him the ability to transform into a werewolf. Because of his great grandmothers past Connor has also become very close with the Daedric Princes. In fact Connor is herald to Merida and the league huntsman of Hircine who blessed him with his ring allowing him to freely transform into a wolf at will. Connor can be found wielding the daedric blade dawnstar also.

Personality: Because of his constant training Connor is not very adept on the social level. He is soft spoken but kindhearted and willing to help any race even though elves killed his father in the great war. Sworn off mead Connor can usually be found at the local smithing shop or court wizard enchanting blades.

Appearance: Connor is tall with long black hair and war paint he wears in honor of his late Nord teacher Falroot. He also wears enchanted wolf armor and wields the sword Dawnstar. Also equipped is the Amulet of Mara and Hircine Ring.

 

[cazzer14]

Name: Jerome
Race: Redguard
Class: Scout, Explorer/Adventurer
Age:35
Religious Views : Atheist, accepts the existence of the Divines and the Daedric lords, but doesn't worship any deity.

Appearance: Jerome has light-black skin, and is well-aged, but grizzled. He has cornrows on the top of his head, and shaved sides. Jerome has a cluster of scars on his left cheek, a result of a hectic battle with a fire mage (i.e. shrapnel hit his face). He is of an average, muscular (but not buff) build, and is slightly shorter than average.

Background/History: Born in Hammerfell (specifically, Sentinel) to a upper-class, rich merchant family, Jerome's father was a well, respected, almost legendary merchant. and his mother was the daughter of a lord of one of the noble Hammerfell families. Jerome's father tried to encourage Jerome to take up his families trade, but he quickly found that Jerome's nature is not to sell wares, but to explore, much to his father's disapproval. Because of this lack of interest in continuing his family's legacy, he held a rocky, conflict-prone relationship with his father. Jerome one day decided to pack up and leave at the age of 18, and his father had no quarry with this decision, in fact he may as well have packed his bags for him. Jerome said farewell to his mother and the rest of his family, but gave a cold stare to his father as he walked out, to explore the world

In 18 years of exploring Tamriel, Jerome has been to Cyrodiil, Elsweyr, Black Marsh and Valenwood, and has picked up a lot of experience of outdoor survival, and had to quickly learn how to defend himself, a skill he has improved on rapidly, and he is now a ferocious combatant. When Jerome came to Skyrim, he decided that this would be the final destination of his continent-wide journey, and so he aimed to find a place to settle down, eventually, though that would not mean he wouldn't explore the province, and all it has to offer. Despite a rocky entrance to the country, (involving a misunderstanding with Imperials, and an angry dragon), Jerome found that he loved Skyrim, and knew he had found his home, at long last. Jerome fought for the Empire during the Skyrim Civil War as a scout, putting aside the misunderstanding, in favour of reuniting the Empire, (as Jerome believed that only a united Empire had a chance of defeating the Dominion, rather than some over-confident, rowdy, xenophobic Nords), and became one of the best they had ever seen. Jerome, having explored and experienced every corner of Skyrim at the age of 35, is now looking for a new purpose, but he continues to wander Skyrim's lush wild plains, forests, tundras and mountains.​

Skills: Jerome is an experienced fighter, and while he has received no official, professional training, he has self-taught himself through experience and lessons learned to become a more-than-capable combatant. He also has an expert knowledge of alchemy, and is a extremely good field/outdoor alchemist. He has also learned how to take care of and create leather-based armour, but he is by no means a Grey-Mane standard smith.
Primary Skills:
One Handed
Block
Alchemy
Secondary Skills:
ArcheryLight Armour


Personality: Although his life is a lonely one, Jerome is not socially awkward, he gets on with most decent people, and has a sense of humour, he is warm and kind towards those that deserve compassion. He is not one to be pushed around though, and can become aggressive and aggravated if annoyed. He can also be grumpy sometimes, but he is generally a nice guy.

I would really like to pop my 'RP cherry' (let me know if that sounds too wrong), so if this RP doesn't work out, anyone who can point me to one this is, or will do, would be very appriciated.

 

[Lorundil]

Character name: Lorundil
Race: Altmer
Class: Mage
Gender: Male
Looks: Lorundil stands tall, even for an Altmer. He has a generic face for a High Elf.
Personality: Lorundil is a usually kind person, at least to non-talos worshippers. He will eventually accept a persons worship of Talos after time, but it causes problems early on in relationships. Lorundil prefers to help strangers only when coin is involved. He will strike down anyone who insults him with his storm-based magic. He gets along with other Altmer who were born in Summerset Isles, though looks down upon those who weren't. Lorundil was training to be a Thalmor Justiciar when his morality caused him to refuse to kill an Altmer who had aided Talos worshippers in escaping from Northwatch Keep in Skyrim. He then fled to Cyrodil in order to find meaning in life, and continued searching in Skyrim. He often becomes aggressive to people who bring up his past as he misses the company of the Altmer.
Combat: storm based magic.

 

[Ma'PiriThePure]

Character name: Ma'Piri The Pure/The Wanderer/The Snow-Cat
Race: Khajiit
Class: Warrior
Gender: Female
Age: 23
Looks: She is fairly small, as far as Khajiit standards go. Her form is petite, but toned, putting her on the opposite end of buxom on the body type scale. Her fur patterns and coloration is reminiscent of a bengal cat, though the spots, stripes, and rosettes are much more defined. The fur itself is short, but thick, and rather soft to the touch, except on her tail, where it grows slightly longer and coarser towards the tip, which itself is exceptionally long and crooked toward the end from a handful of breaks. Her face is angled and defined in a pleasant, albeit sharp way, giving an interesting framework for her blue-gray eyes and pale nose and lips, as well as a platform for her uncharacteristically large ears. Out of habit, she keeps her opaque claws long and sharp, even the ones on her toes, but is known to clip them all if one of them breaks, simply to maintain uniformity. Her left shoulder bears a trio of deep gashes that drag diagonally to the center of her chest, just beneath her collarbone. On her right hand, she is missing her pinky digit. No one knows how she got her wounds, and it might be for the best if you don't ask. Her pale hair is dreaded and kept back loosely so that it hangs at the crest of her shoulder blades; she has no bangs to speak of, or any sort of hair in her face. All flesh that isn't covered in fur, such as her hand/foot pads, nose, lips, and inner ear are all a very light pink. Usually, she wears dark red war paint in the form of one dot above each eye and two streaks reaching out horizontally on her cheeks. Armor-wise, she bears a steel chest piece, hide on her hips and legs, iron gauntlets, and Dwarven boots. Her ears bear numerous silver piercings, a silver/moonstone circlet adorns her brow, and the amulet of Mara hangs obviously on her chest. Her look may be a bit thrown together, but she prefers it that way. Even though she does not have enough flesh to be considered your typically attractive, supple female, her long limbs, coupled with her almost mer-like appearance, have been known to turn heads when necessary, in spite of the many lasting marks left upon her from past conflict. It is wise, though, to tread lightly with Ma'Piri in regards to her looks, for it is rumored that she can cut a man down with a look from those empty eyes, or even cleave the chest plate from an Orsimer's chest using her icy nails before he has a chance to offer her a drink.
Personality: Ma'Piri has a sharp mind, and an equally sharp tongue to match, but those two are normally shelved in favor of a more inviting demeanor. If you listen closely enough to her speech, you can faintly pick out her nearly-faded accent, which she will try to hide at any cost. She seeks to make alliances with all she meets, and will do so regardless of who she comes across, even at her own expense. Be tender with her, though, for when she feels wronged, insulted, or even bothered, she will turn on you claws first, inquiries second. You might even call her histrionic, for lack of a better word. This leaves her with either close friends or bitter enemies, and she is more than happy to have both. Ma'Piri relishes a challenge, especially one with slim odds in her favor. More often than not, she is treated like ''one of the guys'', but beneath her otherwise seemingly simple exterior lies a fragile young Khajiit who seeks out that certain someone to make all her wandering worth it, and she will gravitate towards males of any race or creed who are stronger, smarter, and wiser than her, as long as they have a face worth looking at. She prefers not to talk about her opinions or beliefs, and feels that joining a ''side'' in any conflict is asinine, since her own way is much more beneficial to her; that said, her loyalty can be bought and sold for a time, but only so long as it doesn't involve harming children.
Background: Ma'Piri was born to a pair of doting parents that worked in a caravan with many other like-minded Khajiit. The group was constantly mobile, traversing the lands in search of items to buy and sell, constantly turning a profit as they witnessed the world. She grew up in a strange, but stable environment, and for a few years, she was happy. Tragedy struck when bandits fell upon the peaceful collective, stealing and slaughtering their way to her parents, who were felled just the same as the other caravan members. Ma'Piri, who was about 9 at the time, managed to escape into a nearby wooded area during the melee. Afterward, all she could successfully scavenge from the remnant of her former life was her mothers old amulet of Mara and her circlet, both of which she wears to this day. After wandering for who knows how long, she managed to make her way to Eastmarch, where an Argonian family took pity on her and raised her along with their 15 year old son. As the pair grew up together, and when she was of age, it was suggested that they marry. Frightened by the idea, and indecisive about her ever-changing feelings for the young Argonian, she fled and began a life of thievery. All was well until she was about 20, when her conscience overpowered her and she decided to become a wandering warrior, fighting for what she believes is right until she can settle the discord in her heart and mind.
Combat Prefs: For weaponry, Ma'Piri dual wields twin Dwarven war axes, but will use a steel dagger for up close or sneak attacks, and a simple long bow for range and hunting.
Misc: She loves sweets and has no qualms with dealing skooma.

 

[Zij'Qua El]

Character name: Ma'Piri The Pure/The Wanderer/The Snow-Cat
Race: Khajiit
Class: Warrior
Gender: Female
Age: 23
Looks: She is fairly small, as far as Khajiit standards go. Her form is petite, but toned, putting her on the opposite end of buxom on the body type scale. Her fur patterns and coloration is reminiscent of a bengal cat, though the spots, stripes, and rosettes are much more defined. The fur itself is short, but thick, and rather soft to the touch, except on her tail, where it grows slightly longer and coarser towards the tip, which itself is exceptionally long and crooked toward the end from a handful of breaks. Her face is angled and defined in a pleasant, albeit sharp way, giving an interesting framework for her blue-gray eyes and pale nose and lips, as well as a platform for her uncharacteristically large ears. Out of habit, she keeps her opaque claws long and sharp, even the ones on her toes, but is known to clip them all if one of them breaks, simply to maintain uniformity. Her left shoulder bears a trio of deep gashes that drag diagonally to the center of her chest, just beneath her collarbone. On her right hand, she is missing her pinky digit. No one knows how she got her wounds, and it might be for the best if you don't ask. Her pale hair is dreaded and kept back loosely so that it hangs at the crest of her shoulder blades; she has no bangs to speak of, or any sort of hair in her face. All flesh that isn't covered in fur, such as her hand/foot pads, nose, lips, and inner ear are all a very light pink. Usually, she wears dark red war paint in the form of one dot above each eye and two streaks reaching out horizontally on her cheeks. Armor-wise, she bears a steel chest piece, hide on her hips and legs, iron gauntlets, and Dwarven boots. Her ears bear numerous silver piercings, a silver/moonstone circlet adorns her brow, and the amulet of Mara hangs obviously on her chest. Her look may be a bit thrown together, but she prefers it that way. Even though she does not have enough flesh to be considered your typically attractive, supple female, her long limbs, coupled with her almost mer-like appearance, have been known to turn heads when necessary, in spite of the many lasting marks left upon her from past conflict. It is wise, though, to tread lightly with Ma'Piri in regards to her looks, for it is rumored that she can cut a man down with a look from those empty eyes, or even cleave the chest plate from an Orsimer's chest using her icy nails before he has a chance to offer her a drink.
Personality: Ma'Piri has a sharp mind, and an equally sharp tongue to match, but those two are normally shelved in favor of a more inviting demeanor. If you listen closely enough to her speech, you can faintly pick out her nearly-faded accent, which she will try to hide at any cost. She seeks to make alliances with all she meets, and will do so regardless of who she comes across, even at her own expense. Be tender with her, though, for when she feels wronged, insulted, or even bothered, she will turn on you claws first, inquiries second. You might even call her histrionic, for lack of a better word. This leaves her with either close friends or bitter enemies, and she is more than happy to have both. Ma'Piri relishes a challenge, especially one with slim odds in her favor. More often than not, she is treated like ''one of the guys'', but beneath her otherwise seemingly simple exterior lies a fragile young Khajiit who seeks out that certain someone to make all her wandering worth it, and she will gravitate towards males of any race or creed who are stronger, smarter, and wiser than her, as long as they have a face worth looking at. She prefers not to talk about her opinions or beliefs, and feels that joining a ''side'' in any conflict is asinine, since her own way is much more beneficial to her; that said, her loyalty can be bought and sold for a time, but only so long as it doesn't involve harming children.
Background: Ma'Piri was born to a pair of doting parents that worked in a caravan with many other like-minded Khajiit. The group was constantly mobile, traversing the lands in search of items to buy and sell, constantly turning a profit as they witnessed the world. She grew up in a strange, but stable environment, and for a few years, she was happy. Tragedy struck when bandits fell upon the peaceful collective, stealing and slaughtering their way to her parents, who were felled just the same as the other caravan members. Ma'Piri, who was about 9 at the time, managed to escape into a nearby wooded area during the melee. Afterward, all she could successfully scavenge from the remnant of her former life was her mothers old amulet of Mara and her circlet, both of which she wears to this day. After wandering for who knows how long, she managed to make her way to Eastmarch, where an Argonian family took pity on her and raised her along with their 15 year old son. As the pair grew up together, and when she was of age, it was suggested that they marry. Frightened by the idea, and indecisive about her ever-changing feelings for the young Argonian, she fled and began a life of thievery. All was well until she was about 20, when her conscience overpowered her and she decided to become a wandering warrior, fighting for what she believes is right until she can settle the discord in her heart and mind.
Combat Prefs: For weaponry, Ma'Piri dual wields twin Dwarven war axes, but will use a steel dagger for up close or sneak attacks, and a simple long bow for range and hunting.
Misc: She loves sweets and has no qualms with dealing skooma.

This. This is awesome.

 

[Sweetroll Knife]

Name: Kol.

Race: Argonian.

Age: Old enough.

Gender: Male.

Class: Assassin/Thief.

Looks: From under the shadow of his hood, two beaded eyes. Stepping into the light- the glimmer of a long blade and dagger emerging from the dark- reveals pale scales, marked with black streaks and large horns extending from the back. A thick nose undulates slowly with light breaths, and sharp teeth move into a primal grin, tail lashing, and tongue whipping out quickly over the lowest part of his wide nose. He passes the two blades across each other, light sparks grinding away into the shadows- and strikes forth.

Personality: Greedy, an “evil” of sorts. Likely not to do the good thing so expect nothing of the “dashing hero” sort. Quick-witted. Seems to know what he’s doing.

Gear: Leather armour, rough hood- both being dark. Does not appear at glance, to the wizened eye, to be a member of any shadowy organisation. Wields a katana-esque blade and a short dagger, with a bow and quiver upon back. The sign of the Imperials can be seen sown roughly to the side of his pauldron.

Combat Prefs.: Sneaky and tactical.

Brief history: Kol grew up in a family which migrated to Skyrim for reasons forgotten or long-lost, finding work with most others in the Riften docks. The tradition of the family was to give their offspring short, three-letter names. Kol was a name they gave to one of many. They strived in their anonymous “disguise”, nobody taking an awful lot of notice of them. Kol grew up into the nature of the city, becoming an Argonian with as keen a skill with blade as his wits. The extent to which he spoke with his parents was somewhat limited- again, something of a trend. He began with work alongside other smaller gangs in Riften, building his way up and developing his skills. Dockworking seemed to be his presumed job, a question answered in their minds before others so much as spoke to him, which left him to develop his abilities.
Now, his skills have attracted the attention of the Imperials, who currently hire him. He usually is found skulking in regularly attended Imperial taverns, smoking lightly on a pipe, sharpening blades, occasionally moving forth to talk, and receives many a dirty look from those people who’ve been in contact with him through his current employers.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Name: Slippery Bugger.

Race: He’s a rat.

Age: Adult? Child? Who knows, he’s a rat.

Gender: The innkeeper seems to treat it like its male.

Class: Sneaky, slippery, cheese-stealing buggerer.

Looks: Really handsome. Like, unbelievably. Or you know, buxom. Massive bouncies, all the curves.
NO, HE’S A RAT, WHAT WERE YOU EVEN, I DON’T-
(actually, he's pretty small for a rat and would by normal standards be considered a mouse. But he's a rat, for sure, that tail, you know. A rebellious no-good-for-cheese-and-tasty-bits look in his eye, and ragged fluffy fur that streaks across the floorboards sometimes).

Personality: Master of thievery of the cheese and tasty bits. Expert at escaping all the mouse traps. Generally a really slippery bugger. Always turns up in the wrong, or right places, usually around Daedric artifacts or generally wherever you go, the stalking slippery bugger.

Gear: Sneaky paws, snatching claws.

Combat Prefs.: Steals tasty bits, scampers off.