• Welcome to Skyrim Forums! Register now to participate using the 'Sign Up' button on the right. You may now register with your Facebook or Steam account!
  • Hey there, and welcome to our roleplaying section. Please take some time to read two of these useful resources below, if you're already a roleplaying expert, then there's no need to read the following beginner's guide, but be sure to read the rules.

    Free Form Role Playing Guide for Beginners
    JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.

    Arthur Swift-Sword

    Swift. Like a Sword.
    Name: Arthur Swift-Sword
    Sex: Male
    Age: 27
    Race: Nord
    Looks: Arthur is a medium sized man (6'4). he has blue eyes and a scar starting at his hairline and stopping a little bit above his left eye. he keeps his hair very short and trimmed.
    Equiptment: Arthur wears a full set of leather armor (minus the helmet.) and carries with him a Elven Bow and an Ebony sword.
    Personality: Will do anything for some coin, and as a result, has ended up selling out or killing lots of his friends/colleagues. A very strategic man though, never one to rush into the fight without thinking it through.
    Bio: Arthur was never accepted anywhere. Even his parents disowned him. He was forced to live on his own since age 17. He made his living as a Jack of All Trades. Assassin, Thief, Mercenary, all of those describe Arthur. He grew up living off the gold his clients have given him. Arthur grew up a lonely boy, searching for a purpose and grew into a Man of Stealth, Trickery and Deceit.
     

    Krimpatul

    New Member
    Name: Ishi-Krimpatul
    Race: Dunmer
    Gender: Male
    Age: 32

    Personality:Ishi-Krimpatul is a Morrowind Dunmer that came to Skyrim to fight the much hated Empire. He prefers to sneak upon his enemies and execute them with a dagger, however in the moment of need he's capable of wielding a sword and drown them in the ancestors' fire.
    The hate for the Empire lead him to butcher an imperial every time he had the chance to do so, soon however he realized the presence of an insatiable wish of murder, for the silent death of the incautious. The Dark Brotherhood soon called.
    When he became a vampire, his hate for himself completed his madness and his curse: at day a fury of sword and fire, at night a silent and icy death. Rumors says that he became a vampire while on quest for Meridia, and sooner fo later she will send her paladin after him, others instead says he made a pact with Clavicus Vile, or give Sheogorath as responsible.

    Misc: wearing normal clothes, many end up thinking he might be an agent of some noble or a trader because of his speech . He carries a leather armor too, and the Shroud armor
    After he becomes mad he carries no potion and uses a leather armor during the day, while at night wears

    Skills: One-Handed, Sneak, Destruction, Speech, Light Armor.
     

    Askar

    Vampire Enthusiast. Serana Lover.
    Character name: Askar (He has forgone using a surname)

    Race: (Vampiric ) Nord

    Class: Warrior / assassin

    Gender: Male

    Looks: Askar is a tall Nordic man, standing at a decent 6'3, and very well muscled. His hair is a faded red, which flows down past his neck, the ends barely touching his shoulder blades. Two braids form from his temples and tie back into a half-pony tail at the back of his head, the rest of his wavy red hair is loose at the back of his neck. His face is bearded, with the same faded red color of his hair. The beard is short and cut closed to the skin, full, in the sense that it covers all of his jaw.

    Fully armored: Askar wears a well worn, and well preserved set of Blades Armor. The only difference is that, instead of a helmet, he wears a mask similiar in style to a Dragon Priests mask, if asked he will say he found drawings in a very old book, and casted a replica. Though anyone with skill in magic could tell you it was not enchanted with any magic, and was cast from steel. The hood about the mask is made of a sturdy dark cloth, with an intricate Nordish knot design embroidered into the cloth. Hardly any skin can be seen at a distance, but should one get closer, they would see a few patches of skin here and there, and from what they can see, his skin is as pale as the freshest of snow. At his hip is a beautifully made Ebony war-axe, with the word "Bane" engraved into the the wooden hilt. The trademark shield of the blades is always seen strapped to his back, or his left forearm.

    Without Armor: Should Askar be found without his usual Blades armor, one can typically find him in simple, loose cloths, a heavy cloak about his body, with a thick, deep hood to cover his face from the sunlight. His eyes are a deep shade of red, and the whites about his eyes are instead a feint glowing yellow-ish orange, and the shadows cast from his hood highlight this feature should one actually see his eyes. His hands are calloused and well worn, and his bulky form seems to stand out in his regular cloths than should he be fully armored.

    Personality: Chaotic / Neutral. Askar is somewhat of a freelance mercenary and smith. He has taken a few jobs from the Dark Brotherhood when blades were thin, but has never formally joined the organization. He is quite and a bit of a loner, finding contact with most of humanity difficult, since there are few who can see past his vampiric curse. However, when caught up into a conversation he is well versed in he can be outgoing, informative, and slightly boastful. When faced with someone of the opposite sex, Askar is a true gentleman, being far more polite to woman than he is to men. To the outside world he would seem mysterious and aloof, but there is more than meets the eye.

    Combat Prefs: Askar prefers a shield and a well forged axe to any other form of weaponry, but when subtly is key, he will often duel-wield two daggers.

    Misc: He is a vampire, he contracted the disease over 200 years ago, during the Oblivion Crisis, for he was part of those ancient Blades. Due to his curse, he was exiled from the blades, yet keeps his armor. He traveled back to his ancestral home in order to find a cure, but has so far been unsuccessful. He was recruited into the Blades in Skyrim when the Dragons became a menace and rumors of the Blades began to surculate. He wears the mask to protect his identity and his secret, no one in the blades knows he is a vampire. When forced to feed, Askar will often find a roaming group of bandits, or perhaps a traveler along the road with no real financial or family ties.
    (( This is a slight work in progress, please, any and all tips are welcomed to make him more well rounded :D ))
     

    KISSmePISTOL

    Golradir Anwamanë: my Elvish name (apparently) :P
    Name: Golradir Anwamanë
    Race: Wood Elf (Bosmer)
    Class: Ranger/Archer
    Gender: Male
    Looks: He is pretty average height for a Bosmer...about 5'9" and weighs about 170lbs. He is not your average scrawny Bosmer, though, he is noticeably muscular. He has a clean face with no scars, bruises, etc. He has relatively pale skin and shoulder-length, dark-brown hair. He also has silver eyes.
    Skills: Archery, One-handed, Light Armor, and Enchanting.
    Weaknesses: Fire, and Wuuthrad (obviously).
    Likes: Nature, Animals, The Moon, Silver, and Emeralds.
    Dislikes: Bandits, Drunkenness, Ignorance, and Fire.
    Personality: Golradir is a silent, only-works-alone type of Elf. But when he does converse with others, he does so in a respectable manner, and talks in a calm, suave voice. He is a very, very physically strong person. He is also very acrobatic, cunning, and agile. He is a very wise, quick-thinking person who acts, religiously, on his instincts. He is a very good-hearted person with good morals. He fights only if it's necessary and he never get's in a fight he knows he can't win, but he mainly try's to avoid unnecessary confrontation. He loves nature, and is a strong follower of the Slyvan god Jephre: God of Song and Forest.
    Weapons: He depends solely on his Elven Bow, which he calls "Delimbiyra" (or Shining Bow), as well as Elven Arrows. If the battle get's close-combat, he has his single Elven Dagger, which he calls "Nikym" (or Dagger), as a back-up.
    Armor: He prefers Light Armor so he's equipped with Leather Armor, as well as a Stormcloak Officer's Helmet, Bracers and Boots. He also has a Silver-Emerald Necklace and a Silver-Emerald Ring.
    Bio: Golradir was born in Elden Root, Valenwood. His Mother died during child birth, leaving only his father to raise him. They lived in the middle of the forest, far away from any civilization in the area. Golradir's Father raised him to be a man of nature and to be one who highly values ones life. Golradir's Father was a master with a bow and taught young Golradir all he knew. At the age of 18, his Father passed away of a natural cause. He dug his Father's grave deep into the earth and planted a tree over his grave. Now that his Father was gone and "one with nature", Golradir wanted to go see the world and make his own adventures. Golradir now travels in Skyrim, protecting the innocents, and a guardian of nature
     

    KISSmePISTOL

    Golradir Anwamanë: my Elvish name (apparently) :P
    Misc: He is a vampire, he contracted the disease over 500 years ago, during the Oblivion Crisis

    Well, the Oblivion Crisis was 200 years before the events of Skyrim....not 500. So, you might wanna consider changin' that. ;) just sayin'.
     

    Askar

    Vampire Enthusiast. Serana Lover.
    Look at me, messin' up my years :3 Thanks! ))
     

    MushroomGenius

    Jarl of Fungi, Great Khal of the Mushraki
    shylara001mini.jpg


    Name: Shylara Honor-Bound (Not her real last name)
    Race: Nord
    Class: Warrior, Woodsman
    Gender: Female
    Age: 13
    Birthplace: Windhelm, Skyrim
    Appearance: Dimunitive for her age.
    Clothing & Weaponry: 1h Sword, Shield, most finely crafted custom armors. She's 13 and small, you can't expect her to buy off the rack!
    Weaknesses: Extreme fear of fire and distrust of magick.

    Bio: The only child of affluent goldsmiths and mine owners, Shylara was born and raised in the upscale Jeweled Quarter of Windhelm. Despite her wealth, Shylara dreamed of adventuring. She loved hearing stories about Tiber Septim in their devout Talos worshiping home, she often acted out her favorite scenes in the basement of their home.

    At a young age, her father noticed her skill at swordplay. Her balance, her speed, her agility, her fluidity, her confidence. He took it upon himself to teach her what he knew. WIthin a year or two, he could teach her no more. She was besting him with the heavy wooden swords he had Nils carve for them. Since cost was no object, Shylara's father would often import trainers from all over Tamriel to help train his daughter in combat and survival. The Swordsmen, Shield-Maidens, and Rangers would stay for months at a time imparting their knowledge to the young girl, all of them leaving impressed and with many bruises.

    Just a month after her twelfth birthday, Shylara awoke in her bed after a terrible nightmare. She rushed out of her room to check on her parents only to see them slaughtered near their great hearth. The fire from the hearth flickered, casting ominous shadows on the wall. Shocked, she grabbed her family's sword off the wall and spun around looking for what may have done this. All she heard was giggling.

    From out of the shadows emerged a child. No bigger than she was, the girl's mouth dripped with blood. Shylara charged at the girl only to be left paralyzed by the ball of green energy that the girl flung at her. The girl stood over her, blood from her chin dripping onto Shylara's white nightdress.

    "What a shame, our contract only called for two deaths... but I suppose accidents can happen," she giggled. The girl dipped her hand into the pool of blood surrounding her parents and pressed her hand firmly on Shylara's chest. She giggled with delight.

    Shylara, unable to move, was filled with terror. She watched as fire leapt from the girl's hand igniting her family home. The curtains and tapestries were the first to burn, then the furniture. She felt tears roll down her face as her parents still bodies succumbed to the flames. The girl took one last look at Shylara and hit her again with the evil green magic. The smoke from the fire was quickly filling the room and Shylara started to panic. The flames had started burning the floor of the second story. Pieces of the top floor of their home were now crashing down around her. The girl leaned down and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Courtesy of The Dark Brotherhood," she said. With that, the girl vanished into the smoke.

    Shylara could feel the heat from the fire singeing her hair and blistering her skin. She coughed painfully as the smoke entered her lungs. She felt her lungs burn from the heat of the air. Suddenly someone came crashing through their backdoor. Out of oxygen, Shylara blacked out.

    Days later, Shylara awoke inside The Palace of the Kings. Wuunferth, the Court Mage was applying a salve to her burns. "Ah child, you're awake." Shylara's lungs were too damaged to provide a response. "There, there, just rest." She closed her eyes and fell asleep, the effect of the salve comforting her.

    Late that evening, Shylara awoke to conversation, a woman's voice. Niranye's.

    "Wuunferth, I have to get her out. If they knew she survived, they will kill her. They were careless once, you can be damned sure they won't be this second time," she said.

    "Niranye, look at her, she's in no condition to travel! Her lungs are still damaged, her skin still oozes with pus. She will not survive without care! Look, I know what her family meant to you, but I cannot allow this. Even you yourself are not healed! Look at your own burns, you broke your arm smashing down their door!" he replied.

    "I ... I know people. People loyal to me, they will get her out. She cannot stay in Skyrim. She needs to go somewhere that the Dark Brotherhood will not find her. I will hire an alchemist to travel with her, with what I'd be paying her, I wouldn't doubt their loyalty."

    "Ulfric owes her family as much as anyone, he promised to protect her and raise her as his own. Again, no Niranye, she will die on the road," he sighed.

    "She will die here old man!" Niranye stormed out of the room.

    Shylara closed her eyes and feigned sleep. Wuunferth approached her bedside and placed a cool towel on her forehead.

    "Poor child, so naive to the schemes and plots of your father. We all knew that one day it would catch up to him. Hopefully his soul rests in Sovngarde," sounding exhausted, Wuunferth left the room and closed the door behind him.

    Unable to sleep, Shylara lay in bed re-living that conversation between Niranye and Wuunferth and what the Court Wizard had said after she left. What was father into? Schemes and plots? Who could possibly want father dead?

    After hearing the wolves howl for hours, sleep finally came to Shylara. She dreamed of the fire, she dreamed of the green ball striking her leaving her powerless even with steel in her hand. She woke in a cold sweat, her hand gripping a sword that wasn't there. She wasn't alone.

    "So the girl survives?" said the familiar melodic giggle of the girl. "I heard rumors that it was true, but I had to see it myself." The girl held the same ball of green energy in her left hand. "Uh uh uh, don't even think of screaming. My my my aren't you a fighter? Oh well, now that it's been confirmed, once our employer hears of this, I guess I'll be visiting you again."

    Shylara managed a raspy response, "Who are you?" It pained her throat for the words to emerge.

    "I'm Babette, pleased to meet you!" The girl winked at her and vanished again.

    More questions flashed through her mind. Was this now her lot in life? A life of fear? Waiting everyday for death to arrive? Her questions halted as the door to her room creaked open. It was Niranye.

    "Oh, you're awake. Come child, we need to go." Shylara nodded in agreement and struggled to sit up. She could feel the new skin on her back stretch and tear. "Poor child, I'll do what I can to keep you comfortable, I owe your father so much."

    Before dawn break, Shylara was riding in the back of a covered carriage, hidden in a box. The alchemist, Sjoliria quietly hummed a tune while doing her best to prepare ingredients in the bumpy carriage. It would be a long ride to Cyrodiil. Shylara left Skyrim with nothing but the clothes on her back, the burning in her lungs, the pain of her body, and the letter from Niranye that she promised she wouldn't open until she reached _________________ .
     

    King o' the Britains

    Supreme Commander of Elite Awesomeness
    Name: Slasher (Really)
    Race:Khajiit
    Gender:Male
    Age: 27
    Birthplace: Somewhere in Elyswyr
    Appearance: Black fur, no scars or jewelry
    Clothing & Weaponry: Blade of Woe, full set of ancient Dark brotherhood armor Weaknesses: Dragons that refuse to land
    Class:Assassin/Archer
     

    AMS97F1

    New Member
    Character name: Alex
    Race: Wood Elf (Bosmer)
    Class: Assassin/Archer
    Gender: Male

    Looks: Fairly small, maybe 5'9. Long black hair, light skin.
    Personality: Trys to do the right thing, but sometimes is bloodthirsty and has killed a few people for fun in Whiterun. Joined the Imperial legion but doesn't have any alligence to them or the Stormcloaks. Kills whatever stands in the way, travels with Mjoll the Lioness. Short tempered and very dangerous.

    Likes: Company, Horses, Killing and Dwemer ruins
    Dislikes: Falmer, The undead people and mages

    Combat Prefs:
    1.Deadric bow of Frost (Frozen Reaper) and Deadric arrows
    2. 2xDeadric sword, Afterburner (Sets them on fire) and (ill find out its name :p)
    3. Windshear and Spellbreaker (For dragons and very tough opponents

    Misc: Lots of money! Lots of murders, good at lockpicking, restoration and speech (Also good at Light and heavy armour, 1-Handed, Archery, sneak etc.)
     

    BigBlindMax

    New Member
    -Name: Karl Skeever-Beard
    -Race: Nord
    -Gender: Male
    -Class: Feral Hobo

    -Appearence: Slighly shorter than average Nord and thin with long, bony arms and legs. Fairly dark complexion with a thick crust of dirt. Long, grimy gray hair and
    a vomit stained white beard. Lazy eye, and multiple scars.

    -Skills: Sneak, Pickpocketing, Alchemy, 1-Hand, Alteration
    -Weaknesses: Completely unarmored except for a flesh spell, will frequently wander off in search of liquor to drink or shoes to steal.

    -Likes: Booze, collecting boots, knocking over important people, wandering Skyrim in a drunken stupor, eating flowers and butterflies, getting into fights with
    inanimate objects.
    -Dislikes: People food (anything that isn't considered an 'ingredient'), complex social interaction, the crazies from the church (healers) who try to make him drink
    mind control solution (Cure Disease potions), other beggars/hobos, being made fun of, his ex-wife.

    -Personality: Karl is distrustful, anti-social and practically feral. Though he may seem like a garden variety drunk at first glance, looks can be decieving. He is wildly unpredictable, changing
    from jolly hobo to dangerous lunatic with alarming speed when under the influence of alcohol. He talks on occaision, but is vague at best, and incomprehensible at
    worst. Gaining an understanding of his body language and mannerisms will be vital in understanding his feelings and intentions. Despite his appearence, and lack
    of social skills, it would be unwise to dismiss Karl as 'slow'. He is much more sly and perceeptive than he appears (less so after a session of hard drinking).
    Suffice to say, those who mistake his instability for stupidity tend to end up with a knife in their guts.

    -Weapons: He uses an Iron Dagger, and a Woodcutter's Axe, both of which are almost always poisoned. Sometimes he will sneak up, and plant poison on people,
    if he wants to kill more covertly.
    -Armor: Wears no armor, but uses a flesh spell in his off hand. Wears ragged robes or other beggar apparel.

    -Bio: Little is known about Karl's past (he sure as hell doesn't remember!) All we know is that he used to work as a carraige driver in Bruma and a wife and kid. At
    some point, he developed a taste for strong booze and eventually lost everything. First his money, then his family, business, house, dignity and eventually his own
    mind. He lived on the street, begging, stealing, mumbling, weeping and picking fights, day in and day out. Eventually the townspeople got sick of it, and
    ran him out of town. He crossed into Skyrim and began wandering wilderness with nothing but a few primitive weapons and the clothes on his back. Here he
    learned to subsist off of things most people would consider inedible, only entering towns to beg, steal and occaisional kill for booze. Many of Skyrim's rural settlers
    have learned to fear the sound of empty mead bottles jingling in the distance.
     

    Sharhn

    Vampire Hater
    Name: Sharnh
    Race: Bosmer/Wood Elf
    Gender: Male
    Class: Ranger
    Age: 21

    Appearance: Sharnh is around 5'9" in height, slightly taller than most Bosmer. Sharnh has long jet black hair and a clean shaven face. He is considered skinny by most, but still shows some muscle. Sharnh has a small scar going down his cheek that he got from a brawl with a Khajit.

    Skills: Main: Archery, Sneak, Light Armor
    Secondary: Speech, Alchemy, One-Handed
    Sharnh is very acrobatic and can climb almost anything. He can jump from rooftop to rooftop or from tree to tree.

    Weapons: Sharnh always carries an Elven bow, which is his main weapon. He also has a quiver full of hand-crafted arrows. Sharnh has learned to brew his own potions, and some of his arrows are coated with poisons. When he is forced to go into close combat with enemies, Sharnh has Dragon bone dagger, which he made after killing a dragon after he reached Skyrim.

    Armor: Sharnh prefers light armor, and wears a set of Leather armor, minus the helmet. He prefers not to wear a helmet, as it gets in the way of his vision.

    Personality: Sharnh has a strong sense of right and wrong, and is very kind to innocent people. Sharnh loves to travel and has been to many provinces of Tamriel. He is a believer of Kynareth. Sharnh also has a deep hatred for vampires, as his family was murdered by one.

    Bio: Sharnh was born in Valenwood, in a small house in the forest. He was an only child and lived with his father and mother. As a child, he taught himself archery and hunted animals for his family. Sharnh became a very skilled archer and the forest was his domain. When he was 18, Sharnh was attacked by a vampire. Luckily, the vampire was weak from lack of feeding and Sharnh killed it easily. He quickly ran home to tell his parents the tale, but another group of vampires attacked his home too. Sharnh quickly killed then too, but was too late to save his parents. The vampires killed them after feeding. After this Sharnh traveled across Tamriel to Skyrim, after hearing rumors that the Dawnguard had returned there. He hoped to join the Dawnguard and kill as many vampires as he could.
     

    Grimm_Moon

    Member
    Name: Tadock
    Race: Orc
    Class: Berserker
    Gender: Male
    Looks: Tadock has dark greed skin with scars on his right eye and a large scar across his chest. He is very large for an orc. Very muscular body with broad sholders. He has black eyes. His black hair is in a mohawk.
    Personality: Loyal to his friends but brutal towards and opponent. He is traditional with his worshipping of the Daedric Prince Malacath. Normally wont speak unless being asked to do so. Strong sense of honor is used in most of his choices.
    Misc: Once a member of the Legion. He dual wields orcish war axes and wears orc armor. He doesn't wear the helmet. When he goes into a berserk rage dark veins cover his face.
     

    Simus

    An Excellent Site Member
    Name: Simus Psyrakon

    Race: Imperial

    Gender: Male

    Age: 54

    Class: Spellsword (dual wielding, dual cast shock destruction, smithing, enchanting)

    Looks: 5' 7" Caucasian with an average build. His body is covered in scars but in excellent shape considering its age. He has shoulder length straight silver hair and a warm smile on his face. His left eye is blind and he has four large scars running from the top of the eye to the bottom of his left cheek. The scars were given to him by a particularly nasty high elf wielding a particularly nasty lightning-enchanted claw during the Great War.

    Personality: Simus has all the grace and refinement that would be expected from an Imperial and as such is a persuasive speaker. He's a kind and generous man who deftly mixes the energy of youth and the experience of age. Service in the Legion during the Great War, as well as decades of adventuring have let Simus experience a great many things and he is eager to teach others that seek guidance. Simus feels that the current Empire is not the one he fought for thirty years ago: It's become intolerant, corrupt, and it has allowed Cyrodiil, its heart and his home, to become ravaged with strife. He cannot in good conscience defend this Empire, and he sees the Stormcloaks as a force of renewal, rather than destruction. As such, he himself is an active Stormcloak and has a true desire to help them liberate Skyrim. He’s leery of Ulfric however, and believes the he can be a good High King only with proper guidance, but he still believes Skyrim’s liberation from the Empire to be its salvation, not its damnation. One Skyrim is free, it can help to do away with the old empire and create a new one, just as Tiber Septem did during the third era.

    On the battlefield, Simus is fiercely protective of the soldiers under his command. This has earned him their absolute loyalty, and he feels like a father to many of the younger men and women under his command. He grieves for every imperial brother and sister he kills however, seeing it as wasted blood when the Thalmor are the real enemy. He knows that the Stormcloaks and the Legion are going to need each other, regardless of who wins this war, when the second Great War inevitably occurs.

    Combat Prefs: Simus has been interested in learning, enchanting and magic since he was a boy, and this interest blossomed into real talent during his teen years. When he joined the Legion, he learned how to smith and how to fight, finding out that the studies of a mage and the drills of a warrior required very similar discipline and focus. During the war, he found he could use both steel and magic to become a cunning and creative warrior. If engaging a ranged or hard to reach enemy, Simus will use lightning spells augmented with both hands to slay his enemies. In melee combat, he uses his two ebony swords Ashes and Cinders and The Chill of Death to quickly and violently slay enemies. His suit of dragonplate armour, supported by magical jewelry, keeps him protected. He forges and enchants all of his own equipment and repairs many of his soldiers' gear to keep his skills sharp. His skills in restoration magic are moderate at best, a far cry from those of a dedicated healer, but he's skilled enough to heal most common battlefield wounds and he practices whenever he can.

    Misc: Simus is a devout worshipper of Talos and he and his family took their worship underground when the Great War ended and Thalmor oppression in Cyrodill began. Six months before Alduin’s attack on Helgan he and his family were found out. They escaped their home in the Imperial City with the Thalmor hot on their heels. When they reached Bruma, the contact who was supposed to book passage for them to Skyrim sold them out to the city guards. Rather than be handed over to the elves by his own imperial brothers, Simus decided to fight his way out. He had made many friends all over Cyrodill during his career as an adventurer, so a great many rose up to help him and his family escape. What followed was a bloody street battle that resulted in their escape, but not before the Thalmor caught up with them. Simus’ wife sacrificed herself so that the rest of her family could cross the border. After seeing his mother ran through, Simus’s eldest son flew into a rage and attacked the elves. Simus and his younger son tried to hold him back while his two daughters tried in vain to save their mother, but it was too late. A bloody melee ensued and Simus was knocked out cold. He awoke during the night freezing, covered in fresh snow and greeted by his wife’s frozen corpse. He found his oldest son, barely alive and laying on top of several thalmor bodies. His last words to his father were that his brother and two sisters were still alive before passing out, but Simus was able to save him. The two men decided to spit up to look for the rest of their family, vowing to reunite someday. Simus has since headed into Skyrim, both to search for his children and to look for a fresh start. He’s found comradeship among the Companions, intellectual challenge at the College of Winterhold, duty in aiding the Stormcloaks and satisfaction by doing good works while adventuring. He has found true happiness only recently however, when he and his eldest daughter were reunited. They found each other in Whiterun on her 19th birthday and Simus experienced joy that only a father reunited with his daughter can feel. She considered the best birthday present anyone could ask for. The two now live together in Whiterun and adventure across the hold and the rest of Skyrim when not fighting alongside the Stormcloaks. The both continue their worship of Talos and thank him for each day they have together, putting their past to rest as best they can and always on the lookout for their missing family.
     

    meben15

    Lord of the Meeblings
    Character name: Edwin

    Race: Brenton

    Class: Rogue/Mage

    Gender: Male

    Looks: Approximately 5'8, skinny and quick with shoulder length dark Black hair, dark green eyes, and Tan skin. His face is thin and he almost always has a mischievous smile playing across his lips. (age 23)

    Personality: Edwin is a cunning smooth talking renagade with an air of trouble always floating around him. He dables in minor crime such as petty theft, smuggling, and the ocasionaly burgalry. He is nice to the few that he calls friends and avoids those who he doesnt like, shying away from direct confrontation whenever posible.

    Combat pref: When forced into a combat situation Edwin will atempt to win by any means posible. He prefers to pick of targets at range with balls of fire or bolts of ice, but is fairly adept at fighting with his daggers and sword in melee as well (when he is forced to). If a situation becomes dangerous Edwin will try to either defuse it with a calming Illusion or set his enemies against eachother with a fury spell. He will then try to escape using invisibility.

    Gear: Edwin is usually dressed in a strange, specially modified robe. Origionally a mages robe from the colledge of winterhold he has added pieces of leather armor to it here and there to provide a little more protection. He also has a variety of bandoliers, potion vials, and pouches arrayed about his torso.
    Weapons: Edwin's sword is a finely made steel weapon that he has put a shock enchantment on (called Shimmerstar)
    His primary Steel dagger also is enchanted, only with a drain life enchantment (its called Thorn)
    He also has three other daggers he uses as throwing weapons.

    Back story: Edwin was Born in High Rock into a wealthy noble family. His adventurous and troublesome personality conflicted with the strict rules of his parents and, at the age of 18 when he was found to have magical ability they gladly shiped him off to the colledge of Winterhold. Edwin stayed there for three years, never moving higher than aprentice due to his strong desire not to work at all. During this time however he did manage to become a somewhat competant mage. However this part of his life ended when he was expelled from the colledge when it was discovered he had been stealing valuable alchemical ingredients from the higher up mages and selling them to the Kajiit Caravans as they passed through. Not to sadened by this Edwin joined up with the Kajiit Caravan for two years, until he decided to go out and wander the vast expanse of skyrim on his own.
     

    Kova

    Bosmer Master Race
    Name: Kova (Self-given name; actual name not known to anyone aside from him.)
    Race: Bosmer.
    Class: Archer (Doesn't tend to fight much.)
    Gender: Male (Though has often been mistaken for a female from behind due to his hair style and skinny body.)
    Age: 16-18 (He tends to lie about it often, though it is probably closer to sixteen than eighteen.)
    Looks: Height-Short; Possibly 5'4"-5'5"
    Weight-135-140lbs
    Body Type-Slim/Atheletic; No visible muscles except in his arms.
    Hair-Charcoal black; pulled back in a pony tail.
    Eyes-Also black; unusually big.
    Skin Tone-Greenish. (Y'know, that regular Bosmer hue. xD)
    Weapon of Choice: Crossbow looted off of a dead Dawngaurd enforcer as well as any bow he can get his hands on. (As stated before, he tends not to fight very much.)
    Allies: Pretty much anyone who shows kindness to him.
    Enemies: Not very many, though it seems that he is in bad terms with the city of Markarth. He also seems to have an innate fear of vampires and other such creatures.
    Personality: Jumpy, affectionate, trusting (sometimes a little too much so), funny, relatively happy, childish, outgoing and generous.
    Likes: Nature, Nirn, people in general, playing games, spending money, making money, love, the Divines.
    Dislikes: Dragons, excessively large people, blades/blunt weapons/axes, the Voice (it scares him), magic & potions. (will explain in the bio).
    Bio (I will probably keep this short, as a big part of Kova's character is meant to be a secret except to those that he trusts with it): Kova was born somewhere between 16 and 18 years ago in the Imperial Province to wealthy (if not eccentric) parents. They would often leave him at home alone even in early infancy, causing him to go hungry most days. When Kova's parents were home, they would often ignore his cries and screams, feeding him as little as necessary.

    In early childhood, Kova began to show signs of an extremely dangerous and potentially fatal illness (perhaps brought on by malnurishment in infancy) known as Arcanum Deficiency. This disease made it nearly impossible for Kova to ingest potions or use magic without becoming deathly ill, and makes it very dangerous for him to go up against magical opponents, which is why he tries not to get out of the holds. Eventually, the Empire removed Kova from his parents' care and placed him in an orphanage.

    One thing that we can be sure of about Kova, is that he is at least sixteen, as that is the legal age that one may leave an orphanage. He found the Orphanage to be a fairly friendly place, and left with the much needed affection that he deserved.

    It is unknown what happened between the time he left the orphanage, and the time he was placed in Cidhna Mine, but we can gather that it was probably extremely traumatic for him, as he refuses to speak of what happened directly he was thrown into prison, why he was thrown into prison, or how exactly got out (it is unlikely that he simply served his time, as most inhabitants of Cidhna Mine are lifers.)

    Mmkay. I think that's all I have for Kova for now. :D Like I said, I will probably take screen shots later and upload them as my profile picture or something, but in the mean time, I shall keep his appearance in my forum signature or something. Please excuse me if I am doing something wrong. :/ I'm new, but I read the rules n' shtuff. ^^
     
    Name: Rufinu Gratius​
    Gender: Male​
    Race: Imperial​
    Class: Mage​
    Personality: Rufinu is a kind-spirited Imperial who is mostly a friend to anyone as long as they treat him with respect also. Ruffinu enjoys adventuring across Tamriel and meeting new people. The only thing that Rufinu does dislike is Daedra Worshippers, as he is a Vigilant of Stendarr.​
    Combat: Rufinu likes to use magic when he finds himself in magic, unless that magic involves conjuration. Being a Vigilant of Stendarr, Rufinu refuses to use any sort of Conjuration. While totally inexperienced with two-handed weapons and also one-handed weapons, Rufinu always carries around a steel dagger, just in case. And while not much of an archer, if he has to, Rufinu knows how to fire a bow.​
    Bio: Rufinu grew up in the city of the Imperial City, the heart of the Empire. When he was young his parents were killed by worshipers of Boethiath. With his parents dead, Rufinu moved in with his aunt, his dad's sister. Having never married, Rufinu was like an only child to her. The two were very close. Upon turning an adult Rufinu decided to become a Vigilant of Stendarr. Now Rufinu's mission is to go across Tamirel combating Daedric influence.​
     

    MabFaerie

    Faerie Queen
    Character name: Lilumae

    Race: Unknown specifically, likely of Breton or Nordic heritage.

    Class: Alchemist/Spellcaster.

    Gender: Female

    Appearance: Lilumae is rather short, roughly 5”1 at best, and quite young of age, fifteen/sixteen, give or take. She has dark red hair, normally kept in two long braids, with wide, violet eyes obscured by large black glasses. She has a pale complexion, drawn mostly from her general dislike of heat and sunlight as well as her preference towards staying indoors.

    Younger Lilumae:
    cd72573b-80a9-48cc-8e2f-2884b1e91bed_zpsff076579.jpg


    Older Lilumae:
    4c80a93c-53bc-40fb-ad76-4cec435dac01_zps1697accb.jpg


    Personality: Lilumae is quiet and timid around most people. Considerably younger than most in her line of work, she often is looked down upon or second guessed despite her obvious intelligence. She spends most of her time working on potions and poisons or seeking to discover new herbs and ingredients to use in them. Lilumae is very much a bookworm and is almost never seen without at least a dozen books on her person at all times. When her head is not in a book, she is often exploring and dabbling in every bit of magick she can, amazed with what she considers her natural gift for the art.

    The young alchemist strives to help people if they outright ask her for aid, but tends to fall back and keep to herself otherwise, due to her previous poor treatment.

    Combat Prefs: Lilumae duel wields, but not in the traditional sense. She prefers to use two magically conjured bound swords, finding them to be lighter than their physical, metal counterparts. She is weak with long range weapons and doesn’t possess the tact necessary to wield a bow. In exchange; she uses long range magic to fight, favouring lightning and ice over the uncomfortable heat of fire. Due to her timid nature and history of being treated as less than, she is naturally inclined towards staying out of sight as much as possible and applies that trait in battle.

    Skills: Alchemy, Duel Wielding, Restoration, Conjuration, Destruction, Alteration, Enchanting, Illusion, Sneak.

    Misc: (Background) Lilumae was born in Cyrodil, residing in the imperial city for the first few years of her life, until her father died when she was still a toddler. Lilumae and her mother then moved to the snowy city of Bruma, where her mother ran an Apothecary and taught her daughter about herbs and potions, forming her love for alchemy as she did.
    The people of Bruma disliked the Apothecary owners daughter; Finding the girl far too intelligent for her age, an eerie sort of smart that made them feel as if being in her very presence was unsettling. The little girl spoke eloquently, she picked up magick easily, she understood complex languages as if they were her own mother tongue. She often saw the answers to riddles right away and showed no struggle with the same studies other adults slaved over. All in all, the townspeople envied the little girl, and allowed those feelings to turn into fear for some or hate for others.
    When Lilumae was 12, her mother grew very sick, no herb or potion seemed to change her condition and she grew worse throughout the months. By the time Lilumae turned 13, her mother was gone.
    As much as she loved the Apothecary, every inch of it reminded her of her late mother, causing her more grief each day. Unwilling to be shipped off to an orphanage, Lilumae sold the shop to a family friend who took pity on the girl (Though nearly not enough pity to take her in, it seemed) and used the funds to flee Cyrodil.
    Her journey was long and tiring, causing her to lose track of time as she fled. Hours became days became weeks became months. Somehow, she ended up in the snowy lands of Skyrim. It was cold and comfortable, much like Bruma, but without the obvious reminders of sorrow. With no place left to call home, she decided to do what she could, taking odd jobs here and there to make enough coin to get by. Living day to day as best as she could.
    Still, even here, thousands of miles away, the people were still just as cold and distant. No one liked little girls that knew more than they did. No one wanted a child around who could trounce the jarls magician in a magick duel. No one enjoyed a thought-provoking debate with an adolescent. Despite her attempts, she could find no place to call home. The people here were as cold as the blizzard that surrounded them. Their hearts like the never-ending winters of the region, covered in ice and snow.

    Text Color is as seen here.
     

    Recent chat visitors

    Latest posts

Top