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Info Character Profiles

Discussion in 'Skyrim Roleplaying' started by NikolaTesla, Dec 30, 2011.

  1. Nocte Aeterna

    Nocte Aeterna Sir Not-Appearing-in-This-Film

    Jan 29, 2012
    Likes Received:
    Basic Information

    Name: Aubert Francoeur

    Race: Breton

    Gender: Male

    Age: 31

    Date of Birth: 29th of Midyear, 4E 170

    Place of Birth: Wayrest, High Rock

    Birthsign: The Steed

    Personal Information

    Height: 6’4” (193 cm)

    Weight: 191 lbs (86.6 kg)

    Build Type: Tall with a generous composition of both lean and buff muscle, befitting of a man who runs around in heavy armor all day.

    Eye Color: Green

    Hair Color: Chocolate brown

    Skin Color: Fair, nearly pale

    Physical Appearance: [​IMG]

    Sexuality: Heterosexual

    Religion: Eight Divines

    Occupation: Guardsman, occasional bard on the side

    Marital Status: Single

    Current Residence: Markarth

    Political Views: Generally favors the Legion.

    Diseases/Ailments: None, though he bears multiple burn scars on his abdomen and back, as well as down his right thigh.

    Family Information

    Father: Lefevre Francoeur (4E 138 – 4E 188; died when corsairs sacked Wayrest)

    Mother: Severine Francoeur (4E 135 – 4E 188; died when corsairs sacked Wayrest)

    Siblings: None


    Positive Traits: Brave, calm, resourceful, caring, loyal

    Negative Traits: Quiet, shy, introspective, naïve, pensive

    Interests: Fishing, combat training, cooking, medicine, playing the lute, singing, and traveling.

    Other Trivia: Much as he is reluctant to admit it, Aubert gives excellent rousing speeches. He also has a great singing voice.

    Combat Information

    Alignment: Neutral Good

    Class: Paladin/Crusader

    Affiliations/Factions: Markarth City Guard (consultant/battalion commander), Imperial Legion (by extension), Dawnguard (western extension)

    Laterality: Right-handed

    Major Skills: Two-Handed, Block, Heavy Armor, Restoration

    Minor Skills: Archery, Smithing, Speech

    Combat Style: Combat-wise, Aubert is a classical knight with a penchant for restoration magic in addition to defensive combat. He primarily fights with the greatsword – a heavy weapon typically reserved for the bravest and the physically strongest – but he displays excellent proficiency of the weapon with aplomb nonetheless. When faced with undead foes, the Breton augments his swordplay with Stendarr’s Aura, a powerful cloak spell that shrouds himself with pure light, exhuming any and all enemies from beyond the grave. He is also proficient at healing his own wounds and the wounds of others, but his restoration spell work is average. Occasionally, when engaged at a distance, Aubert also favors the crossbow, which sacrifices accuracy for power.

    Gear and Inventory

    Primary Weapon: Steel Greatsword (Flawless)

    Secondary Weapon: Enhanced Crossbow (Exquisite)

    Armor: Steel Plate set with Dawnguard Full Helm

    Inventory: Aforementioned weapons and armor, a few healing potions, waterskin, food, crossbow bolts, a small lute, and tattered parchment for lyrical purposes.


    Gather ‘round, ye lads and lasses

    For a tale worthy of the tallest glasses

    It began midsummer, 4E 170

    Our story begins in High Rock, the Breton theocracy

    Wayrest yonder, a city far south

    Nursed the Francoeur family from the depths of its pouch

    Aubert the only, born far before term

    His ailing infancy, for which Oblivion yearned

    But he grew tall for a Breton, did Aubert the Brave

    For he knew perseverance even at a young age

    He learned combat at his dear dad’s request

    Because sometimes we think that father knows best

    Adolescence did not differ much from years before

    Little did he know that he’d seldom learn more

    He was taught in earnest, through song and sequester

    But 4E 188 brought forth a wound that would fester

    Pirates and corsairs, brandishing blades in the night

    Assaulted Wayrest not far from first light

    Aubert fought bravely, greatsword in hand

    But this fateful evening was the Francoeur’s last stand

    Butchered like hogs on a poaching vacation

    Mother and father’s death brought forth no elation

    And for once, Aubert ran

    He had been wounded and burned, and wanted not to understand

    He fled Wayrest without a second thought

    Too much violence, the bandits had brought

    He had his armor, his lute, and his song

    And he prayed that his instincts would not steer him wrong

    Eastward he went, as the story goes on

    He thought he’d make it to Evermor next dawn

    This proved false, as that was also sacked through

    The elders, the sickly, and the children, too

    Ambushed at once by a remaining troop

    Aubert and his greatsword slaughtered the group

    He was victorious, indeed, and his charred flesh showed it

    But it was time to move on, he said;

    For corsairs, High Rock was a pulpit

    Skyrim greeted him with the Reach in his view

    To Markarth he rode, smelling of ash and sinew

    He would surely find more refugees there

    Or be imprisoned by the Nords without even a care

    But the latter was not so, it seemed

    For the Reach had its own mortal disease

    The Forsworn, they said, were killing innocents

    In a flurry of unprecedented events

    So the valiant Aubert took up his blade

    And said, “I’ll fight for Markarth – my home is dismayed.”

    Thus he defended the dwarven-forged lands

    With steel and healing magic to guide his hands

    Over a decade later, and our story is the same

    Only, Aubert is known in Markarth by name

    He goes where is needed, and sings afterward

    With lute and voice to revitalize the hurt

    Indeed, the Breton is a man of honor

    And as for Markarth, a new age is upon them

    He aids the guard whenever he can

    To assist the Jarl in defending his land

    And though he is valorous, lyrical, and true

    This is where our epic finally concludes

    For Aubert the bold, the loyal, the great

    May have just written this poem to impress a date!

    (But he didn’t. He’s just a good guy, though generally more modest in person.)
  2. TheRipper

    TheRipper Skyrim's Finest Ripper

    Aug 23, 2015
    Likes Received:
    This Is A Reference For His Attire
    (Not His Look)

    Vistha Galmesh
    Name: Vistha Galmesh

    Alias: Vist

    Age: 27

    Birth Date: Sun's Dawn - 30th

    Birth Place: Cyrodiil - Leyawiin

    Birth Sign: The Lover

    Origin/Race: Saxhleel Or Argonian

    Gender: Male

    Laterality: Right Handed

    Sexuality: Heterosexual

    Marital Status: Single

    Affiliations: Dark Brotherhood, Silver Hand & Dawnguard

    Alignment: Chaotic Good

    Afflictions: Mild Schizophrenia

    Religion: Nine/Eight Divines

    Patron Deity: Mara & Kynareth

    Habits: Continuous Foot Tapping


    (image is To Show His facial Looks)

    Being calm,collected and quite unpredictable at times Vistha is both dangerous for his animosity, yet quite deceitful for his ability to hide his aggressive nature with a calm collected and sensual cocky voice. Many would consider him to be arrogant, short tempered and bizarre. Although living in Skyrim has made him that way for seeing how his kin are treated. His short temper is caused by the sights he had to see in Windhelm, not only that fact but the limited aid and help other Races were given just like his kind.

    Positive Traits: Unpredictable & Strong Willed

    Negative Traits: Unpredictable & Short-Tempered

    Likes: Ale,Women,Violence & Death

    Dislikes: Stormcloaks, Imperials & The Altmer

    Fears: Torture,Vampires,Werewolves

    Aspirations: Obtain a mass amount of wealth and status within Skyrim

    Quirks: Stutters Under Pressure And Talks to Himself Alot

    (This is to Define His Stature and Body Build As Well as his Skin Pigmentation)

    Height: 5'11
    Weight: 155lbs
    Build: "Well Endowed"(As he would describe Himself) Fit, Strong Build & Almost Military Like Posture and Stance
    Hair: None
    Eye Color: Light Blue
    Scars: Four Scars Two Across His Lower Jaw And Two Across His Left Eye
    White Face Paint That Cover His Eyes


    "At the age of about sixteen my family decided it was better to find shelter and warmth away from Leyawiin so much had happened to it before I was born, and even at my birth my family and I were living in a cheap inn. One bed to ourselves and that was it, father always went out from the sun rise to go hunting, don't think he went hunting for us, he did it for the lord of the lands around Leyawiin, all he got was a few meaningless coins for his service, while mother stayed at the inn as a bar-hand. I kept to myself mostly mother and father were always so busy, I guess it was a good thing since I was able to explore the town for myself. Leyawiin was either raining or cold, probably cause it was built right near the ways of water. or perhaps the Nine, sorry Eight thought it would be nice to always have wet weather."

    "Hahah I remember one day I was out looking around, just exploring on me own I notice an odd new fellow in the town, he was well kept, well spoken and look to have gold upon gold encrusted jewels on him. Fellow was not very bright though, he stumbled into a rough part of the town, I guess he was a Breton, well I thought he was a little to short for an imperial plus those longer looking fingers. Anyway enough about how he looks, the point i am trying to get to is a funny one. So the fellow starts asking around to some of the folk that live in the shanty part of town. Not to sure what it was about, but while he was asking the local some of those cats snuck up on the poor fool and stole away with his pouch of gold."

    "That day was a good one, but it got even weirder for the next few days. After those thieves made off with lots of gold and jewels it started showing up around town, thieves must have been apart of the thieves guild. You know the guys that take from the rich and give to the poor. So after my little wander around the town I head home, well to the inn and as I open the door, their they are those cats and my father talking. Shocked really I was but that was not what got me, those cats had handed him a good amount of gold that they had taken. From what I overheard they found out about me mah and pa and the rough life they are living. Mah was almost in tears and Pa just kept saying thank you over and over again."

    "One of the cats noticed me as I stood there looking dumber then a piss pot, I was only a wee little lad at the time just exploring all I could trying to learn from everyone, cause mah could not afford for me to be properly taught by the local priest even. Anyway the cat kneels down to my height holds out a small pouch full of gold, of course I was scared at first this cat was not what I would expect a thief to look like black fur but built like a soldier come to think of it he might have been an Ex soldier.Anyway he looks at me straight in the eyes and says 'Remember' that is all that bastard said, of course I still remember it"

    "So within a few days Pa had planned to make a desperate run out of the town befor anyone realised that we were running, it would have been simpler, but someone reported Pa as a thief,which meant we were always being watched. All I can think about that day is being so tired, Mah and Pa just stayed up and kept watch for any chance we could go. right then as the sun began to rise Pa grabbed me not even my hand just picked me up and took what he never, which was his bow and arrows, while mah took nothing. My head is just looking down at my parents feet as they begin to run fast, here I am popping up and down on me Pa shoulder as he runs like a wild animal for the gate before anyone notices us. Then I hear it 'shut the gates!' real loud Pa swore under his breath as he ran, almost their we manage to beat them closing the gate Now Pa pops me down and tells me to run fast, I nodded and took haste with Mah as we ran."

    "Looking back now an again I see Pa just keeping up following not far behind me and Mah, dam I felt so exhausted but mah would not let me stop, and for dam good reason to man hunter were hot on our trail now all of us had a bounty on our head, not a small one either one thousand coins each to whoever brings our heads back. All I can think while I am running is where are we going to go?, its like were wanted criminals now. After about four hours of endless running we reach water. Without haste we all went into the water, but swam under so no one could see us. Pa caught up them and took hold of me and Mah leading us more north. As I was young and never had any knowledge at the time where we were swimming to Pa had taken me and Mah past Bravil"

    "After about almost 6 hours in the water we head back onto land, Pa looks at me and Mah with desperation on his face in his mind he only cares about us making it. What made that worse was as we began our journey towards Bruma we all heard what sounded like horses at speed, Mah keeps going forward and I look back, their they are six horse riders pointing us out, man hunters. Pa looks at Mah and me for one last time before he says goodbye.As sad as it was I knew we would be next mah just took my hand rough and led me up into the wilds. For one last time I look back and their I see my dad standing face to face with four other man hunters, the other two he must have taken down with his bow."

    "I could swear he looked right at us, before those bastards drove a sword through him each. He made no noise no sound, just lots of blood, Shaking my head now as those images haunt me on the rest of my Travel towards Bruma, no one told me it was cold and we had to traverse across mountains. Just our dam luck Mah and me had to stop for something to drink, luckily up in Bruma we were unknown. mum used some of our new coin to get drink and food. Straight away as we finished we were off and this time now having clothed ourselves with fur so we don't freeze to death."

    "Perilous it was, we had to climb a dam mountain that was how desperate we were, I just kept thinking those Man hunters were right their, it drove me forward, but also into something else, something that still haunts me to this day. Anyway once we finally reach Skyrim we are free, not really Mah still had the coin but I knew something was wrong, call it a gut feeling but we were being watched. each time we moved whatever I felt moved with us, I never saw it the next thing I do is turn my back to see if we are being followed. While turning around I am struck with blood, it just hits my face and chest. at first I looked at me in shock was I shot?, then I look to Mah and it was to late, they got her, right through the dam throat."

    "Panicking I run over to her to see if she was still alive,faintly she was still able to move, in which so she would give me the coins and just point like she was angry in a direction.Tears running down my eyes I see several men and women in fur to, Having no choice I ran with haste in tear, running through dense thick woods. Exhausted I collapse struggling to breathe, With the faint sight left I see a dark figure, to me it felt like a long time I was out, when I awoke my clothes were changed my body was tended to, it was so strange then out of the shadows, a familer face shows up, it was the Khajiit that said remember to me."

    "Why was he here I thought to myself, then my mind went into a blaze of fit the memories of my Pa and Mahs death haunted me. comforted by the cat I looked to him asking where I was, he replied my new home, Shock hit me now I remember where I was, I knew it was Skyrim but I had no idea what town or what part of Skyrim I was in. 'Ratways' said the cat, I was confused I had no idea, then he helped me to my feet and showed me, we were underneath the city of Riften he explained he said it would be better off if I stayed with his family, odd a bunch of cats living in ratways, he laughed as I said that, then he would show me what he meant by family."

    "The Ragged Flagon now that was something new to me, a bunch of thieves live underground. However I was afraid at first, but the cat introduced me to the family said I would be working as a bar hand, like my mother. Well he said I would work their till I was ready. Always thought it was odd that he said I would be better off living with them underground them above ground while I was young. On my forth winter at the age of 20 I was aloud to leave the ratways, to live my own life now. It was hard I only knew how to live in the ratways this was something knew to me, however I felt comfort by the water, so I would start to live right near it, I found a small boarded up area that i could pull open it led to what looked like a former part of another ratway, but it was all covered up and some of it collapsed."

    "It was home for me now, luckily I still had a good amount of coin I got from the cat and my own means, they were thieves after all I learnt a few things from them and by them I mean they whole lot down in the Ragged Flagon, crazy bastards they are. Life was not easy I tell you that, eventually I began exploring Skyrim, moving around and doing what I can here and their working for who I want when I want"

    "Most people always question me about my existence to the Silver Hand, and most of those asking are either companions of werewolves. None of this would have happened if it was not for my own mistake, it was a cold night out in the holds of Skyrim I was not far from Winterhold. Although the cold was getting to me I had to take refuge somewhere there was nothing around me to make a fireplace or a tent, of course if I had not spent all my coin on ale I would not be in that position of starvation and idiocy.Anyway i found a small cave that seemed to hold off the cool air well."

    "I was desperate I had no choice so i took it upon myself to enter the cave, at this point i was already regretting the decision to, but I had no choice it was either freeze to death in the cold or take home here and wait for the storm to calm.In my mind i thought that cold would stay forever, it was as my mind just focused on that. Managing to stop those thoughts I would go to see what resources i can find in the cave.Suddenly i here this chatter from some Nords who had just wandered into the same cave i was it, dam i said to myself only lightly to, but somehow those bastards herd me and in seconds one of them would come running towards me no weapons, just a loud growl and almost leap towards me"

    "In panic and fear i would kick and punch back against the one who was going for me, i hit him a few times making him angry, boy at that time i thought i was going to die that Nord just growled then howled loudly transforming into a beast. A werewolf as they are known, in a mere second so did the other Nord, But his transformation was stopped by a group of kinsmen that were well equipped with armour and what looked like silver weapons at the time. While distracted I would roll away from the werewolf that was right above me, a battle erupted between those armed with silver and the werewolves. The battle looked like a lost cause, those werewolves were tearing apart the kinsmen. I knew i had to help so i took it upon myself to take a dead Orcs silver great-sword, with a lunge and a stab towards the first werewolf i would puncture its flesh deep and drive the sword all the way through so it came out the other side"

    "With that the beast went foul and its last howl was loud and deafening, however with that as a distraction those that were left alive from the werewolves fatal attacks would strike as a group upon that last werewolf slashing, hacking and mauling the thing to its bloody and brutal death. Personally I was exhausted, but those that saved me would once again come to my aid explaining to me that they are werewolf hunters, or Silver Hand as they called themselves. The leader of the group that saved me was a gorgeous Wood elf she would then tend to my wounds and treat them, in a quick decision I would ask if I am aloud to become one of them. The wood elf looked at me with strong eyes examining me. I barely had any experience how to use a weapon properly, but she nodded and said that they would train me and teach me survival tactics properly. After all the things i learnt would have most likely killed me faster then save me. " (Still Work In Progress)

    #1122 TheRipper, Aug 23, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 23, 2015
  3. Vauldis

    Vauldis Member

    Sep 5, 2015
    Likes Received:
    Name: Vauldis
    Race: Argonian ( Vampire)
    Sexuality: Heterosexual
    Class: Necromancer
    Alignment: Neutral Evil
    Gender: Male
    Looks: Because I'm bad at describing I'm just going to link an image ( it's just my avatar)
    Ehhh doesnt show that much so i'll describe him abit more. He has red war paint covering most of his head. He is not particularly stocky or thin, just average and he is average size for an argonian. His head has two relatively small spikes coming out of the pack with a tuft of dark red hair between them.

    Personality: Vauldis is very cold , intelligent and rather unsensitive. He's also rather cruel. Despite this he has a soft spot for many of the creatures around Skyrim , although this can make him seem insane due to the fact this soft spot is filled by wolves , bears, and to a degree frostbite spiders. There's no apparent reason for this really. He prefers to be alone, with like-minded people ( mages , preferably necromancers) or with his undead minions.

    Likes: Reading,testing out spells ( on creatures..or people), silence, killing and burning, alchemy.
    Dislikes: the divines , vigilants of stendarr, dwemer ruins, fist fighting.

    Religion: Daedra worshipper (Molag Bal).

    Political views: Vauldis cares little for the civil war and sees it only as an opportunity to spread misery and discord. He sees the Empire losing Skyrim as just that. So naturally he supports the Stormcloaks but doesn't really involve himself in the war.

    Starsign: The Mage

    Age: 23 (age when turned into vampire, in reality he's pretty damn old)

    Birthdate: 3E 410 Rain's Hand,5

    Diseases: Slight case of pyromaniac , gets a feeling of joy when he sees things on fire. Vampirism

    History: Assumed to be born a few weeks earlier than when he was found abandoned on the streets of Bruma, Vauldis showed signs of magic proficiency even at that age , accidentally shooting sparks or embers. He was quickly adopted by the Mages Guild ( mainly due to the fact that nobody else would) and raised by the lead mages there for some time. However a year or two after Vauldis was taken in by the Mages Guild there was a break in from a servant of the Black Worm cult who was sent to kill and steal from the mages , however this member of the worm cult noticed the extremely young argonian and thought stealing him away could cause major amounts of trouble for the guild. Vauldis , despite many of the necromancers disliking the idea was quietly raised and taught about necromancy, the daedra and all manner of things he would have not have learnt for years otherwise. He didn't exacty have the kindest or most patient of teachers but he learned quickly, if he didn't would face extreme punishments such as being locked in a small cage with nothing but bread and water. He didn't have the friendliest relations with his.... guardians.

    Eventully he was a fully fledged necromancer of the worm cult and,however this didn't stop a blood starved vampire ( who was a member of the cult himself) feeding off the young necromancer and accidentally infecting him. Vauldis saw this almost as a gift as to him in meant he could continue to perfect his skill in necromancy forever.
    After the worm cult was destroyed (again) Vauldis quietly moved to Skyrim and experimented in secret and solitude until the civil war and the dragons came about. He decided to travel to the college of winterhold and see if he could pick up any new tricks under the guise of a young mage.

    Skils: Conjuration ( mainly necromancy), Destruction(mainly fire), alchemy, basic enchanting skils
    #1123 Vauldis, Sep 6, 2015
    Last edited: Sep 7, 2015
  4. Balomew

    Balomew Active Member

    Jun 10, 2015
    Likes Received:
    This is dead.

    Gelid wisps harried the northmost sphere
    Everything bleached hollow under the heavenly eyes
    O’er sea untouched by immortal gears
    By divine presence, mortal essence dies

    CURRENT RESIDENCE: Heljarchen Hall, a family hosuehold in The Pale:
    Upon entering, the guest is greeted with a small dining hall. A kitchenette and miniature library are indented in the right wall. To the left is a small empty room.
    A trapdoor behind the stairwell leads to the cellar, decorated with a disturbed archery target and combat dummy. Dust gathers on an armored mannequin, and on the rim of the shield and steel of the Ferik heirlooms. Storage is sparsely occupied by mead.
    The second story consists of another small bedroom. A single bed sits vacant besides one wall. An old double frame, dust gathering on its pine planks and metal ornaments, leans beside a desk and wooden chair laden with study equipment. A few books are piled on the desk's face, their corners so often damaged that they appear frayed and uneven when closed.
    Overlooking the front of the sturdy old two-story building, a large and often shaded second-story window gives a view of a petite greenhouse. Inside of the window space, a shrine sits on a small shelf: the clothes there are stale and stiffly folded, but the amulet of Mara lies polished and unbroken.

    POLITICAL VIEWS: Raised by parents determined to let their child make decisions entirely his own, and spending his years of youth in a time of peace, he didn't form a significant preference until the civil war started. The local jarl wasn't logical in his support of the rebels. Knowing that enemy forces may seek to destroy native traditions, Mryfwiil would prefer that Nords maintain solid control over their home province.

    PHYSICAL DETAILS: Mryfwiil has the typical Nordic visage, reaching 5'8" with general moderate muscle bulk and a solid stance. Sun-kissed skin and numerous scratches and gouges across his back, arms, and one old gash at his left hip off-white and knotted with scar tissue. Shoulder-length tarnished bronze hair, voluminous and coarse, is bound in many places by thin braids kept by thin metal wraps. Above a short boxed beard on a round jaw, focus is drawn to bright teal eyes cloaked by drooping eyelids and shadowed by thick, protruding brows.

    Large brown-furred knapsack with emergency supplies, ragged burlap bedroll, a torch, and a woodcutting axe
    Small black leather-bound journal with many pages filled by tiny crabbed handwriting

    PERSONALITY: He has become who he had feared he would develop into as an adult. In his younger years, this man was known for his boastful smile and tragic comedy. Much has changed within a short period of time, after encounters with death countless times over. Now he is rigid and formal, serious and with an eerie calm. He might break out, suddenly, with a discharge of emotional distress. When once he dreamed, now the recent past haunts his sleep. Seen, perhaps, as an alcoholic, though in truth he avoids liquor in even small doses, though the bottle does call him at times with a taunting pitch, one that promises not answers but to quiet the questions.


    He was as uncommon as any child in Tamriel, which was, to say, common. Mryfwiil was raised to ask any question, to be curious about any thing, except for his parents' opinions. Early on in youth, he learned that it wasn't opinion that mattered, but how you presented yourself to others regardless of judgement. Both parents worked at a private lumber mill not far from home; they would work all day, keeping some of the wood for them and having the rest sent to Dawnstar. In return, a runner from Dawnstar would sometimes return with meats, saving Mryfwiil a run to the frozen coastal city. As a child, he explored and wondered, running and immersing himself in an imaginary world in which nothing mattered but the bonds that held people together, and that was the only currency - likeness. So he was an unusual child in that, instead of playing soldier and kicking around his nearly three years younger brother, he read and sang to himself, and when he didn't realize it, his parents listened and smiled to each other. Life was a daydream and he was the daydreamer, constantly spinning tales.

    In his teenage years, the lack of time spent with parents, plus the unmentionable and long puberty years, slowly separated Mryfwiil from his parents and even his little brother, who followed him around and saw him as an idol, a mentor on how to think and be you. Yet even as he gravitated away from his family to begin poking around to find his own path through this paragraph of life, he became known to the Dawnstar locals as the rowdy young man with the wild open grin. He was hopelessly romantic, flirting and breaking promises as soon as they were made. He was a polite man, but also emotionally off-key. These were the years that he found who he was.

    He moved out of home in his mid-twenties, moving in with a girl that he believed he loved beyond any competition. She had challenged him at his every advance, but it wasn't the thrill he was seeking anymore. He was still lost, but now he had somebody and he was certain that he was in love. They stayed together, bonded by love but not married, until he received a particularly imposing letter from his father. He and Jorlaf were going adventuring to the Sea of Ghosts. Wheras Ricard felt certain that there was no danger except for mystical lights, and Jorlaf was still entertaining the prospect of adventure even at this age, Elisea felt uneasy and was superstitious about the Sea. Ricard had extended an invitation, and though his mother begged him not to go, he took up his father's offer. He had no fear of the legendary Sea-Ghosts, and he had always wondered about how it was on the Sea past that great endless horizon.

    It was the Sea-Ghosts that did them in the end, though. The claim that they drew sailors to their death was right. The crew quickly fell in love with the playful magical balls of light. Everyone did, except for one young crewmate. The Ghosts seemed to lure them towards something and, like a skeever after rot, they thought that something hidden lay ahead just for them to find. They did indeed, but not the material goods that they had expected. One night grew particularly stormy, lightning and thunder rattling the roiling waves. The wisps guided them, they still thought. The ship pulled up like it had been pulled from above at one end. It tilted, slammed against the waves, and just like that the Maria Forster and her crew were smashed and pulled under. The water brimmed with the light of the wisps as they lingered just above the water like they were watching the dying drown.

    The listen, surely, has noticed by now that we still speak as though our character still lives. Of course he doesn't. We're not talking about some demigod favored by the divines. He yelled, screamed at the wisps, and the last thing he knew was the tip of something hard against his head. A number of wisps had been following his movements. He had heard that they were the souls of the drowned at Sea here, perhaps dead Atmorans or spirits from the original islands swallowed up by the hungry ocean. He did now know it then, but he knew soon after his wake on an ice block miles from the wreckage.

    He knew from the way he felt. Unbeknownst to him, Mryfwiil had sit the side of a jutting plank that drove into his scalp. Yet there was no gnarly scar, only a thick package of blood where his head hurt most. He had died at sea, as the Ghosts had, lost in this world without form. And slowly his creative mind began to realize the concept. Suppose that his soul had been fleeting, but mortal souls are stubborn. He was bound there, but even as there was vacant space within him, another soul joined. They gathered around him, maintaining the life in his body even as the concept of his existence by magical law faded. A man that lived after death, but he could not walk after that trauma. He didn't know who he was anymore. He had another spirit within him, a force that seemed to threaten to push him out. They coexisted - they had to, for this body to survive.

    He floated. It was as if divines - or some deep magic - had tugged him closed to home. A fishing boat had found him and brought him to shore at Dawnstar. The people didn't know this man without a smile. His brows brooded, his skin darker but lacking that healthy glow. He was a stranger to the woman he loved, who turned him away and refused to bed with him. She had felt him pass, but only knew that something was wrong. She told him that she didn't love him anymore, and told him to leave and never return.

    At the family home, blood stained the polished pine floor, a tiny dry pool of it. His mother had felt something terrible had happened, so terrible that she could not live anymore. She couldn't live for anything else. Mryfwiil found her with an empty hand and knife up her jaw. He felt lonely, betrayed, and totally isolated. He was unknown to the people he had been with for a great portion of his life. He had no direct family left. He now spends much time at the Dawnstar port, staring out at the endless horizon over the Sea of Ghosts, a plain line and rugged waves. Now it was not just a legend of lost souls, but a fact of his own lost soul and the pain of losing the ones that had always meant the most. Often he looks at a knife, a stabbing of longing in his heart, and wonders if death might be the better option than this undeath, this nonexisting. The internal silence was drowning him from the inside out. He had fits, but was mostly dead quiet, just sitting at the pier watching the unchanging horizon, as if that ship might come back home and return it all back. But no ship ever came.

    Rather than plan a simple history, I wrote directly from my singular soul. It bleeds into my fingers and types until I can't feel my fingers anymore. Bless the muse that gifted me with this sweet dream - of the average-looking Nord, sitting in the snow watching the horizon, his hair thick and scruffled with messy braids and eyes deep or empty. I saw the look on his face as he thought that this was true loneliness was, and feeling it all for the first time. I saw him stand, trek off in silence, and even then peek back, a sharp, angry look in his eyes. A lost, broken, hopeless man - this is when heroes and villains are made.

    So anyway, I know that the history probably wasn't what you were expecting entirely. It's flawed, of course. I've been writing for at least seven hours straight, all off of a dream. I don't even know how my brain is still working by now. The history was straight from my dark heart, with virtually no refining. I refuse to change anything in this. It is how it is. It will be further defined in roleplay. I'm just glad that I got all of this character crap out. It's gone, it's out of my system. Hate it, love it, whatever. Let me know what you think. Maybe I'll recreate him at some point, but it's hard to do that without advice. PM me if you have anything to say, even if it's just "Your history section sucks." But I'm not taking plot ideas. All of the general concepts here stay the same. Alright, I think I've rambled for long enough. Now I can finally sleep in peace, now that Mryfwiil lives elsewhere.. and that something else lives within him, deep inside.
    #1124 Balomew, Sep 19, 2015
    Last edited: Oct 31, 2015
  5. fish-with-feathers

    fish-with-feathers King of Trash

    Aug 26, 2015
    Likes Received:

    : Ardarume Caemahl
    Age: 329
    Birth Date: 6th of Morning Star, 3E 307
    Gender: Female
    Race: Altmer
    Class: Dark Battlemage
    Birthplace: Alinor, Summerset Isles
    Currently Lives: Windhelm, Skyrim


    Appearance: Ardarume has the telltale golden skin and height of an Altmer, standing at around six and a half feet tall. She has a narrow face with a pointed nose and chin, as well as slanted amber eyes. On the upper left corner of her lip she has a small scar. Her hair is sandy and done in a sidecut. Her torso is of a willowy build, save for her fairly defined butt. Across her chest and back she has various other scars, a result of being tortured while incarcerated.


    Apparel: She wears Master College robes with a scarfed hood. Around her neck she wears a silver pendant in the shape of a eight pointed star with a ruby set in the center. On her hands she wears a pair of lightly armored black gloves, along with a silver ruby ring, and on her feet she wears a pair of heeled boots. She also has a trimmed wolf fur cloak she wears in colder regions and a mask that allows her to water-breath. All of her apparel has been enchanted, mostly to increase her magicka pool and regeneration rate.

    Personality: Sadistic, psychotic, vengeful. There are many words that could be used to describe this monster of a woman. She feeds on the pain of others and the only person she truly holds any love or care for is herself. As such she has no qualms with abandoning her allies in danger or using them to ensure her own survival. She is frighteningly brilliant and years of being the in middle of Thalmor politics has made her very good at hiding her true intentions, often appearing benevolent to the general public. Woe to the traveler who encounters her on a lonely road however...

    Major Perks: Conjuration, Destruction, Alteration, Enchanting, Speechcraft
    Minor Perks: Illusion, One Handed

    Weakness: Glass cannon, prone to act rashly when enraged
    Strengths: Magically strong, very smart, agile

    Commonly Used Spells:
    • Destruction: Firebolt, Fireball, Sparks, Lightning Bolt, Frostbite
    • Conjuration: Bound Sword (Soul Trap & Dispel Daedra)
    • Alteration: Ebonyflesh, Candlelight, Paralyze, Detect Life
    • Other Schools: Fast Healing, Fury, Muffle

    • Bound Sword - Her main weapon of choice, she prefers using it over a traditional sword as it has no weight and requires no repair work. She has enhanced it through her studies so that it can trap souls and banish summoned daedra.
    • Steel Dagger - A backup weapon she keeps hidden in her robes. She has enchanted it with a powerful life draining ability.
    History: A former member of the Thalmor, she was one High Inquisitor but was branded a “traitor” and incarcerated within the very Hall she once served. Managing to escape and kill her replacement, she fled towards Skyrim in hopes of hiding among the chaos of the uprising. She was caught however and sent for execution, only to again get free, this time by the appearance of Aludin. For their actions against her she has sworn vengeance on the Thalmor, devoting herself to hindering and killing them by any means possible...and if people around her suffer in the meantime, all the better!
    #1125 fish-with-feathers, Sep 19, 2015
    Last edited: Oct 16, 2015
  6. Mercutio

    Mercutio Assistant Regional Manager

    Jul 15, 2013
    Likes Received:
    Might as well try, right?


    Name : Gandalf

    Birth Date : Unknown :eek:

    Place Of Birth : Unknown :eek:

    Aliases : The Grey, The White, Olórin, Mithrandir, Incánus, Tharkûn, The White Rider, Greyhame, Stormcrow, Old Grey Beard, Big Grey Beard, The White Pilgrim, Láthspell

    Age : Around 2,000 years old (looks like mid 60's)

    Religion : Unknown (Some say he's a God :eek:)

    Current home: Throat Of The World....locked away from the world. Just awakened

    Appearance : A 5'6" old man. Long white hair and a long, silver beard.

    Apparel : Wears long robes. Also has a big wizard hat

    Weapons : Gandalf has a magic staff. He also wields Glamdring, a sword (can be used 1/2 handed). Also has Narya, a ring (Not known what it does but it is thought to be very powerful)

    Items : Always carries a smoking pipe

    Perks : Alteration, Illusion, One handed/Two Handed and, Restoration

    Theme song:

    Mods are amazing :)
    Latest Given Reputation Points:
    lizardisok: 13 Points Nov 11, 2015
    #1126 Mercutio, Sep 29, 2015
    Last edited: Sep 29, 2015
  7. Jake Johnson

    Jake Johnson Active Member

    Aug 1, 2013
    Likes Received:
    Name: John Tnopreip (pronounced nop-reap - the "T" is silent); the last name is Pierpont backwards
    Race: Imperial (for the extra gold perk)

    Primary Skills: Speechcraft (for better selling prices of scavenged goods)
    One-Handed Blade (he carries a sword)
    Destruction (Fire)

    Required Quests: No Stone Unturned (for the Prowler's Profit perk)

    Story: John came to Skyrim because he heard about the land for sale. His being captured with Ulfric was simply bad luck.

    He seeks to become Thane of all nine holds, with the houses and lands (especially the Hearthfire lands!) to support the title. Simply put, he wants to own all possible properties in Skyrim.
  8. Taliion the Ashstrider

    Oct 3, 2015
    Likes Received:
    Name: Taliion

    Known as: Ashstrider

    Race: Dunmer

    Gender: Male

    Morality: Grey, Inclined to good.

    Body: Dark blue skin, black hair and red eyes. Is 1.87 cm tall, weights 93 kg. Has a scar right through his right eye, rendering him blind on said eye.

    Story: I was born of an Imperial father and Dunmer mother, and I lived with Redguard step-brother. My parents names shall not be said, as it pains me too deeply. I was born in the Imperial city, under myLegionnaire father and Mage mother. My big Brother, Tohbu, was always a gifted fighter, clad in Ebony and unnaturally tall, even capable of matching Father in sword fight, a feat not done easily. My father had just finished teaching me the art of the sword, when suddenly, smoke and fire appeared, everywhere. The door opened, and five men and women came in with swords, axes and magic, not to mention red, piercing eyes. They quickly decapitated my mother, and both my brother and father stood up to fight. I sat there devastated, looking at my mother. Then, a sword slashed my eye, and I screamed as I didn't think possible. With my good eye, I saw my father dispatch the creature, only to take an arrow right between the eyes, and brother getting pinned. When I woke up, my brother's left some gold and an Ebony ingot, not to mention a card, telling me to not sorrow, as high Fathrr and mother would have mp wanted so. I travelled for years, until crossing a border to Skyrim. Things did not go so well...

    Equipment: On cities, Blue Noble robes and a Steel Dagger. Outside, Chitin Armor and Skyforge War axe.

    That is what I got so far!
  9. Muad'dib

    Muad'dib The mouse-shadow

    May 16, 2015
    Likes Received:
    Name: Tarr

    Gender: Female

    Race Orc, with the Volkihar strain of vampirism

    Date and place of birth: 4E 167, Orsinium

    Sexuality: Equal-opportunity sadist

    Appearance: A tall and savage-looking orc, yet with a terrifying beauty about her, Tarr stands at over six feet, four inches tall and weighs at least two hundred pounds when nude. Her features are typical of an orc, with dull green skin, and short hair trimmed around the sides with a small, curved knot in the back. Smoldering vampiric eyes are surrounded by dark, almost black circles that give her face a skull-like appearance and make her eyes appear like fires in a deep pit. It isn't obvious whether it's makeup, tattooing, or some form of corruption, but on closer inspection they appear to be paint of a dark purple hue. Several scars mar the face, including a gash running from the chin to the left cheek, and apparent claw marks on the left cheek, running towards the eye. One of Tarr's tusk-like fangs is also chipped. The orc is built like a predator, with a hint of feminine curves showing through the muscle - and that's if one gets a glimpse of the woman without her heavy armor.

    Biography: Tarr was born in Orsinium like many orcs, initially living a stronghold life and learning to forge armor, fight with blade and axe, wear heavy armor, and hunt animals. After her parents were killed in a clash with some group of humans or another, she left Orsinium and moved into the Breton land of Wayrest, abandoning her "gra-" last name. She grew up as a city orc, caring little for the primitive life and troubles of the stronghold orcs. Tarr had a brutal, calculating intelligence from early on, and survived her teenage years as a thug and enforcer for a local crime lord, then joined a mercenary company that traveled High Rock, Skyrim, and occasionally Hammerfell. Quickly working her way through the ranks, she led the group of mercenaries into a rebellion against their employers, and set herself up as a bandit chieftain like many orcs, raiding caravans and occasionally a large town. Once they killed a prominent nobleman attempting to take back his kidnapped daughter by force rather than pay the "generous" ransom, however, they were hunted and slowly whittled away. Realizing their time was at an end, Tarr killed many of her fellow bandits and offered the rest as a sacrifice, tying them up and letting the authorities find them while she left with a large amount of money to travel the continent.

    She did just that, up until ten years ago, when she heard of a Dark Brotherhood contract in Skyrim that wasn't being replied to. She spoke to some nobleman or another, passing herself off as a member of the Brotherhood, taking his money and killing one of his competitors. Tarr wasn't very surprised when she found herself in a dark, damp cabin facing a blonde Nord that demanded repayment. Upon confirming that the only way to leave the cabin was by killing someone, Tarr quickly killed all three "targets" for Astrid, effortlessly bypassing her little riddle and impressing the woman with her brutality. For several years thereafter, Tarr worked as an assassin on behalf of the Dark Brotherhood, rarely being sneaky in her kills, but being smart enough to use subterfuge and cover them up - or frame another group for the kill. Five years ago, however, all that ended when she found herself at Castle Volkihar, being given the gift of blood by Lord Harkon after having delivered a valuable artifact to him, whose previous owner was a Brotherhood target. She enjoyed the additional power that arose from her vampirism, and the sudden hunger for blood that didn't surprise her - Tarr had held a bloodlust for quite a long time, but only figuratively, and blood didn't nourish her before.

    Of course, Tarr knew that she couldn't hold allegiance to two powerful and influential groups at the same time...she had to make her choice, and the choice was to embrace her new nature as a vampire. Astrid informed her that the price for leaving was the same as entering: death. Unfazed, she put up her own money for a contract on a nearby bandit lord, and after saying goodbye to Astrid, carried out the contract herself. When the bandit's head was separated from his body, so too was Tarr separated from the Dark Brotherhood - permanently. She missed it a little, but didn't dwell, and eagerly began her new life as a creature of the night.

    • Heavy Armor - The orc's physique is well-suited to heavy armor, and Tarr usually wears some form of it, occasionally hidden beneath a dark cloak.
    • Two-handed, One-handed, Block - Tarr prefers two-handed weapons, but usually keeps a dagger on her and doesn't mind quick war axes.
    • Destruction - Although she isn't one for the magical arts, Tarr does appreciate the use of a well-placed fireball, and anything else that brings widespread destruction and suffering upon her enemies.
    • Smithing - an early childhood as an orc in a stronghold started her on a path of improving her smithing skills, and she pursues it as a hobby, as well as remaining self-sufficient in weapons and armor.
    • Speech - With her newfound vampiric powers, Tarr finds it even more easy to intimidate people, or seduce them and take them someplace quiet for a feeding or a kill, though mainly the former.
    • Speech - When it comes to speaking with people or trying to persuade them to lower prices, or anything of the sort without intimidating them or using her vampiric powers, Tarr's orc nature makes things difficult, not to mention making friends.
    • Sneak, Pickpocket - She can use her vampiric powers to remain unseen or stalk prey from a distance, but her size and bulk make it impractical to sneak around lifting keys and gems. She much prefers the direct approach, in any case.
    • Most schools of magic - Tarr has begun to dabble in Conjuration, but the realm of magic remains closed off to her, due to a lack of interest and capability.
  10. thaioden the nord

    Apr 8, 2015
    Likes Received:
    Name: Agandaur

    Race: Khajiit

    Age: about 45

    Personality: Quiet/ Some what reserved

    Looks: 7'0", extremely muscular, he looks like a cross between a snow leopard and a bobcat.

    Weapons: He wears a great sword on his side, and wields it like a long sword, one handed. He also keeps a silver dagger on his belt, just in case.

    History: he grew up in elsewyre, and fought in the last great war, where he lost his left eye. After the war ended, he moved to skyrim, for a new start, and to forget the past. But his sense of adventure always gets the best of him. While serving in the great war, he became very skilled as a battle mage, but likes to call himself a paladin
    #1130 thaioden the nord, Oct 23, 2015
    Last edited: Oct 28, 2015
  11. Alys The Wanderer

    Mar 29, 2015
    Likes Received:
    Female Bosmer
    About 19

    She has velvet red hair that she likes to pull up in a twist with two plain metal chopsticks. Her eyes are emerald green with flecks of gold and she wears no warpaint. She grew up on Solstheim, but no one knows who her parents are or where she came from. Some Skaal found her in an abandoned house as a baby and brought her to Ravenrock where she was adopted by Geldis Sadri.

    She grew up to realize that, though the Dunmer accepted her as one of their own, she was still too different to truly belong. She spent most of her time on her own exploring nearby ruins and playing in the forest as a child. The danger that can accompany such activities quickly prompted her steppa to ask Teldryn Sero to mentor her in self-defense because his attempts to get her to stop wandering off at all weren't working.

    Teldryn accepted and oversaw her training in archery and with daggers, and when she was finally old enough to convince her steppa to let her, Scarlett set of for Skyrim in the hopes of finding her calling in life and escaping the monotony of a village content to sit and slowly rot as the mine completely dried up.
    Latest Given Reputation Points:
    Kalib: 2 Points Nov 12, 2015
  12. Balomew

    Balomew Active Member

    Jun 10, 2015
    Likes Received:


    SEXUALITY: Presumably heterosexual.
    RELIGION: Traditional Nordic pantheon esp. Kyne. Susceptible to Daedric influence.

    CURRENT RESIDENCE: Currently residing in the Cistern under Riften. On the road soon.
    AFFLICTIONS: No afflictions have been observed.
    OCCUPATION: Dawnstar guard.
    POLITICAL VIEWS: Prefers native authority. Afraid of losing native traditions. Neutral.

    Typical Nord. Tall, overall built and lean, solid posture. Pale skin, shaggy dirty-blonde locks, hooded light blue eyes. Straight brows and short boxed beard.

    • MARKSMANSHIP expertise accounts for aim, speed, and force.
    • LIGHT ARMOR guards against cuts and thrusts and allows for fluid movement, but is susceptible to axes and heavy projectiles.
    • SPEECH means easy persuasion and, if requirements are met, intimidation.
    • SNEAK thieves have quiet footfalls and blend with shadows.
    • LOCKPICKING skill makes locks open and lock quick, easily, and quietly.
    • ONE HANDED is for emergency situations in which a dagger must be drawn.
    • Fletching. Barbs heads and slims shafts for smoother flight but more fragile and not very effective at piercing armor. Does not apply poison.
    • Basic first aid. Always carries first aid supply kit.
    • Oak bow weathered and worn from use but cared for. Uses steel arrows unless Orcish, elven, or ebony is available.
    • Orcish dagger, sheath silent by wool.
    • Set resembles Thieves Guild garb because it is. The bandoleer is missing and the bracers are slimmer. Well-worn.
    • Hooded burlap cloak.
    • First aid supply kit. Gauze, alcohol, health potion.
    • Journal, 3/4 complete. Keeping eye out for new journal.
    • Engagement ring.
    • Bedroll.

    FAMILY: Elujah, female Nord, mother, alive but mentally ill and currently missing. Harrison, male Nord, father, deceased and buried outside of Dawnstar, residence garden memorial with red mountain flowers at residence site.
    PERSONALITY: Serious, formal, and confident to the point of stubbornness. Doesn't like people relying on him. Empathic and guides by calculation rather than gut instinct. Insecure about actions once taken. Fierce if successfully angered esp. if drunk. Forward-minded, shy of loyalty.
    INTERESTS: Writing about locations and people, ancient lore and legends, Draugr, and dragon magic to name some.

    Early in childhood, Aesgir learned that it is not opinion that matters but bearing: how one presents oneself to others regardless of judgement. It was at this early age that he grasped the concept of language, and quickly became a natural at persuasion, which was easy as a child and became more rewarding during his teenage years when adults looked down on people his age, coming to be recognized as an unusually mature boy. He spent the first dozen years of his life dawdling in Dawnstar with his father, who had been a sailor during the Great War and rooted for the Imperials. Sailing was something that Aegnir has never tried, much to his dismay. He felt uneasy over deep water.

    There was a sailing expedition in his teens. Aesgir had been invited but decided to hang back due to his insecurity and lack of experience. During the trip, a storm hit the Sea, common in the area. It hit so hard and unexpectedly that his father's boat tipped. Wreckage and corpses washed up at the docks thereafter, including Harrison's. Elujah was devastated and began to gently descend into madness. Her shock forced Aesgir to ignore his own grief and console her.

    It was during this difficult period that the mother and son abandoned the family home, moving from Dawnstar to Riften. There, Aesgir's skills at persuasion were quickly exploited by the struggling Thieves Guild. They taught him how to lockpick and sneak, and Niruin trained him in marksmanship, a skill he soon exceeded at. He was a natural at fletching. Elujah was proud at first, but became more distant and prone to fits of anger. Memory loss plagued her. He cared for her deeply but was terrified of her presence, subconsciously pulling the two further apart.

    Aesgir met a lovely young Argnonian woman called Asvee during these years. She was impressed by his stealth and anonymity in the presence of law. He grew proud and the two began to court. His attention turned from his tormented mother to this new woman in his life. In his late twenties, Aesgir was given a special assignment by the Guildmaster concerning a noblewoman and an amulet of interest. As this was the type of mission impossible to complete alone, he brought Asvee with him to retrieve it. The pair infiltrated the noblewoman's mansion, snatching up additional valuables on their way to the bedroom. After avoiding the guards, they entered the bedchamber and, after searching, found the amulet.

    It wasn't until Aesgir reached the window that he noticed the wealthy couple murdered in their bed. He turned to Asvee to insist that they escape as soon as possible. Instead of his guildmate, however, he came face-to-face with guards, Asvee nowhere to be seen. Aesgir escaped through the window and returned to the Cistern. The Guildmaster was displeased and didn't believe his story. The mansion was crawling with guards, so he could not re-enter safely to find clues.

    Aesgir is currently hiding from the Riften guard in the Cistern. His mother has disappeared and the guards haven't been persuaded to look for her yet. There has been no word about Asvee, the necklace, or the murderer. With the Guildmaster casting blame upon him like a persistent shadow, the town against him and his mother vanished, Aesgir is eagerly searching for an opportunity to escape from the town for a while. Around this time, stories of dragons begin to circulate. Here is where this story ends and ours begins.

    • Creative Creative x 1
    #1132 Balomew, Oct 31, 2015
    Last edited: Nov 3, 2015
  13. Hjalund Erikson

    Hjalund Erikson The Madman! o.0

    Nov 10, 2015
    Likes Received:
    Name: Maximus Delcius Vulso
    Race: Imperial
    Gender: Male
    Age: 30
    Height: 6"2'
    Eye color: Heterochromia iridum: Left Eye Blue, Right Eye Green
    Hair: Raven black, short cut
    Scars: Sabercat claw right face, several sword and burn scars across chest and back
    Armor: Armor of Thorns
    Armament: Spear of Thorns
    Misc.: Maximus suffers from amnesia, not remembering anything past when he woke up one day in the wilderness of Skyrim with his strange armor and weapon.

    Good fun
    Unique traits/armor/weapons
    Slaughtering bandits
    Adhering to the norm
    Beind bored

    Personal Quirks
    Tends to lose focus easily
    Cannot resist a good woman
    Easily annoyed by what he classifies as stupidity

    (Anything else is a WIP)
  14. KageYuuki

    KageYuuki Darkness rises when silence dies

    Nov 10, 2015
    Likes Received:
    I'm going to preface this by saying most of the history and abilities comes from another site. Though even on the original site she's from, I've worked hard to keep her from being "OP". (And compared to the other two Immortals, she's far from it)

    Name: Falin Nightlake

    Gender: Female

    Species: Bosmer (Wood Elf)

    Age: 210 (Despite her age, she still looks like a fairly young Bosmeri woman)

    Class: Ranger

    Major Skills: Stealth and archery

    Weapons: Senche Tiger bone dagger, bow. She makes her own arrows from the bones of fallen prey and enemies. Depending on the creature, these arrows can have slightly different properties.


    Falin shares many similarities with other Bosmer: a small, slender yet strong build that allows for an agile fighting style, and her eyes carry the unnatural look Bosmer are known for. Black sclera with a blood red iris. She prefers to keep her snow white hair cut very short. The wild hair often appearing spiked on its own.

    Taking on an aspect of the Wild Hunt out of desperation wasn't without its consequences. Horns now grow from her head and her teeth are closer to a Senche Tiger's than a Bosmer's. The horns themselves aren't overly large, they sit between six to seven inches at their full height. The off-white horns bear a close resemblance to the antlers of a deer, even sprouting small tines as time went on. A training accident left her horns growing unevenly with the left now sitting about an inch shorter than the right. The true properties of these horns remain unknown with one mage discovering they seem to have large amounts of magic stored within.

    While typically hidden beneath her armor, her right arm is covered in a sleeve of intricate tattoos. Complex knot work of vines and flowers representing the Bosmeri connection to the Green. The emblem of the Warriors of Y'ffre can be seen at the top near her shoulder.

    Her armor is made from leather. Dragon scales have been meticulously layered along the cuirass, vambraces and boots resulting in an armor than can absorb some blows but still allow her to move freely. Carved dragon bone adds ornamentation while providing for extra reinforcement.

    • Generally polite unless around friends. Being with people she knows tends to bring out the more playful and teasing side of her.
    • When in the company of those she dislikes or distrusts, she tends to keep a polite however rather cold air about her.
    • If she find herself having to work with a new team, she tends to remain quiet and professional. While she will follow the leader's orders her thoughts will be made known if something is amiss.
    • While she's willing and able to work with others, she does enjoy the peace that can come with being alone. Something that stems from her relying so heavily on stealth and taking enemies down from afar.
    • Given that most of her village was burned down, she has a fear of fire. She's far more likely to just freeze up until survival instinct kicks in and forces her to move. She has gotten to the point that she's fine with campfires and fireplaces given they're under control.

    • Does not like people touching her horns
    • When angry or frustrated, she's likely to be hiding someplace high up. Be it the treetops or the rafters of a building.
    • Despises the cold (For reasons unknown she keeps ending up back in the bitter cold of Skyrim.)

    As a child, she unintentionally led to her village being "cleansed" by the Thalmor due to the humans that had married into and lived with the clans. Nearly everyone that lived there had been killed. She was found by a group known as the "Warriors of Y'ffre." Among the patrol that found her was a young recruit by the name of Dereth Nightlake. What began as a rather bitter rivalry between the two eventually developed into a very close friendship. Ask around the members of the Nightlake clan or fellow Warriors of Y'ffre and they'd tell you the two were practically married though they would vehemently deny that claim. Falin adopting the Nightlake surname doesn't help her argument.

    Being raised and trained by the warrior sect led to her becoming a close follower of the Green Pact. A series of rules put in place by the god Y'ffre in exchange for giving the Bosmer their form. Thanks to her rigorous training, she's become an expert marksman. However despite her strength from scaling and maneuvering through trees, she struggles to hold her own in close combat. Falin eventually decided to leave Valenwood and begin wandering Tamriel in search of some kind of purpose.​

    She ran into Sauriil while traveling through Skyrim and was pulled into helping save Tamriel from Daedric invasion. After helping cleanse Nirn of corruption in a later adventure, she was named an Immortal and became the vessel of Y'ffre. Though her newfound powers came with a cost: she could never settle down. Trying to create some kind of permanent home would result in tragedy befalling it and destroying it.​

    Abilities: As an Immortal, Vessel of the god Y'ffre, she's been granted abilities that others wouldn't normally be able to use

    • Controlling the Green: She is able to take control of plants and use roots and vines as an enchanted binding on her opponents. Plant life will bend to her will and she can use them to gather information on the surrounding area. This ability is amplified greatly within Valenwood
    • Summon Spectral Beasts: Call spectral creatures to aid in scouting, combat, or travel. However, these creatures can be easily slain. They can be summoned even if she's unconscious as a sort of defense mechanism.
    • Champions of the Hunt: Summon the champions from previous Wild Hunts. Can only be used once per week
    • The Great Story: Access and even alter the memories of another. Requires the person to be in a trance like state otherwise it causes great strain on her and the one whose Story she's viewing. Also more likely to fail.
    • Outside of her abilities as an Immortal, she is incapable of using any kind of spell.
    • While her title is Immortal, that does not mean she's truly immortal. Time won't kill her, though wounds certainly can.
    • As a result of almost becoming a creature of the Hunt. Her sight, hearing, and sense of smell are far greater than any man or mer
    • She can heal from minor cuts, bruises, etc. in a matter of minutes. More serious cuts are typically healed in 5 hours. Grievous wounds and broken bones require several days to recover from.
      • She cannot regenerate lost limbs, digits, etc. Teeth, however, seem to grow back after a month or so.
    Latest Given Reputation Points:
    lizardisok: 13 Points (:)) Nov 11, 2015
    #1134 KageYuuki, Nov 10, 2015
    Last edited: Nov 18, 2015
  15. Hjalund Erikson

    Hjalund Erikson The Madman! o.0

    Nov 10, 2015
    Likes Received:
    I can vouch for her.
  16. scipiobatman

    scipiobatman Wise Fool

    Nov 10, 2015
    Likes Received:
    Name: Scipio Inferus

    Race: Imperial

    Class: Vampiric Spellthief

    History: Scipio has always had a knack for gathering information. His parents had blessed him with one of those completely unremarkable faces. No one ever noticed if he was around. This led to some rather... interesting misadventures involving a treasure beyond gold, a tyrannical noble, a lovely maiden, and only one lockpick. While he came from a noble family he had no interest in wealth. Instead he deals in knowledge, from spells to myth to gossip to great magics, and one day he learned of the Order of vampires. Sadly his unassuming manner, his quick wits, and his handy thieves tools and magic were not enough to save him. He died for knowing too much. Oddly enough, the Order decided to keep him. When he woke the next day the Order began to train him in their ways. Because of them, he knows how to hide his sickness from the most vigilant hunters. Because of them, he knows how to keep silent under any threat or pain. What little doors were closed to him were now opened. When the dragons attacked skyrim, he was curious. So with the Order's permission he journeyed northward.

    Misc: Scipio is odd in that he does not eat unwilling food, unless it is from an enemy he has killed.
    Latest Given Reputation Points:
    KageYuuki: 1 Point (Nice, may be worth going into appearance too) Nov 13, 2015
  17. Deadpool.

    Deadpool. OG Forum member

    Jan 7, 2013
    Likes Received:
    Name: Caeser

    Race: Imperial

    Class: Warrior, Tactician

    Age: 25

    Alignment: Lawful neutral

    Sexuality: Straight

    Relationship status: Divorced

    Laterality: Both hands

    Likes: Reading magic books, Wine, His job, law+order, Adventure away from his tasks

    Dislikes: The Thalmor, Altmer, arguments, blackbriar mead, Talos, Daedra

    Appearance: Wears the in-game armour of the Penitus Oculatus and a hood similar to one of a greybeard. He is muscular, and tall (standing 6'4). He has a multitude of battle scars accross his body and face. Carries an imperial sword that instead has the penitus oculatus logo on it, also has a silver sword hidden on his back and an ebony dagger hidden in each of his boots.

    Occupation: Imperial Tribune (officer) Penitus Oculatus, (occsionally a Daedra slayer)

    Personality: Caeser is very chivalrous, and very bold. Due to the atrocities he had seen and done he has developed distrust he holds towards everyone, knowing that he would be punished for them. During the great war he developed a kind of 'spidey sense', he could sense danger in a room filled with people.

    History: He was born to a very wealthy family in Cyrodil, His father: A General in the Imperial army and his mother: a restoration mage. He was taught by imperial scholars until the age of 20 and became one himself for a short time, during this time he had bad experiences with Daedra, as his fellow scholars were slaughtered in a Tomb belonging to Mehrunes whist trying to research more about the razor. After his father passed away due to natural causes, but his mother died of a terrible disease. He decided that he should join the legion and live up to the same standards as his father and hopefully reach his position. The great war broke out and due to his education they made him an officer, fighting in the battle he had seen and made his men do many atrocities that still haunt him today, these atrocities are the reason he is unpleasant, but also very succesful. After some success in the battle he was re-assigned to the Penitus Oculatus where they needed his values in leadership, intelligence and ruthlessness. He spent majority of his time with the Emperor, as a personal body-guard. After some years he was given the duty to lead a section of the penitus oculatus for the purpose of eradicating dangers to the emperor (such as the dark brotherhood). He used to have be married to his generals daughter, however whilst he was away on duty she was secretly with another man, he still seeks another woman to share his remaining happiness and life with. He works alongside the Vigilants of Stendarr because of his hate for Daedras.


    #1137 Deadpool., Nov 14, 2015
    Last edited: Jun 12, 2016
  18. TheQuirkyFerr

    TheQuirkyFerr YourAverageUnextraordinaryNerd

    Nov 22, 2015
    Likes Received:
    image.jpeg Here goes nothing. First time writing out a character for role play :)

    Name - Nisha
    Race - Dark Elf
    Play Style - Assassin Necromancer
    Age - 25

    Personality - Anger is her motivation, closely tied in with an unapologetic bloodlust. Anger clears her mind, and gives her focus as she moves on from one goal to the next. But her ultimate target is a high born Nord male, who raped and brutally killed her sister Nova. Him and all his kin. What she gets, Nisha pays back tenfold. Coldly analytical but passionate about a cause, Nisha presents a strange paradox as her fury takes on different forms and influences her in different ways. Sometimes a cold, concentrated current that burns in a way only ice can. Sometimes a hot river of emotion that spits and sparks and scalds anyone in vicinity. Nisha has a few scattered ties to a hand full of people over Skyrim. But she has almost an innate bond to other Dunmer. Stealing and killing to get her way and get what she needs, Nisha is far from a moral character.

    (Will probably side with Lord Harkon and his ilk)

    Related Factions - Dark Brotherhood, College of Winterhold

    Skills - Archery, Sneak, Conjuration, Illusion

    Did I do this right? :v
  19. Ihadabadday

    Ihadabadday Member

    Dec 19, 2015
    Likes Received:
    This is my first post on the site, and first attempt in a long time at any kind of RP on a forum. Any feedback is welcome!

    Race: Nord (Werewolf)
    Class: Melee Fighter/Hunter
    Gender: Male
    Age: 23
    Looks: 6'0 Tall. Caucasian appearance. Blue eyes. Black, medium length hair. Blood red warpaint over the left eye. Muscular athletic build, lived most of his life outdoors. He wears a lighter armor, the appearance is that of the "Vagabond Armor" mod, with Guild Masters Boots/Gloves mixed in.

    Ronin is withdrawn, numerous tragedies have seriously affected his social life. His political views lean towards the Stormcloaks ideals, but he doesn't openly support the rebellion. His foster parents did support them, hence where his opinion of them originated. He has faced many tough situations, and tries to avoid a fight. However his temper tends to be short. On the other hand, most of the time he is a very patient man.

    Ronin spends a lot of time in wooded areas, typically hunting. His skill with the bow is great. However the time he spent with his foster father, who was a stormcloak, forged him into a skilled swordsman. Ronin has always fought with a Steel Sword. Overall he is tough. Spending so much time outdoors in Hjaalmarch and Falkreath before that, has hardened him to the elements and sculpted his body to handle the rigorous tests it constantly faces. Other than that, Ronin occasionally visits local inns.

    History: Ronin's family was killed when he was 13, under a full moon. He can't remember much about that night. He struggles to picture the wounds he found on his mother and father that next morning, which are the best clue as to what did it. They were torn apart, as though by a beast. But something of this magnitude suggests something big. He later realized something about him was different as well. He had red markings around his left eye, but he couldn't figure out what it was. Ronin was soon found by a pair of travelling nords, headed to their home in the area near the Nightgate Inn. He lived under their roof for 9 years until the husband joined the rebellion. A mere month later he was killed in action. Distraught, the wife disappeared never to be seen again. Ronin had nothing save the skills he learned under the husband, to be a skilled fighter and huntsman. Striking out as a mercenary, he continued to roam Skyrim looking for work. At the age of 23, he gave up the mercenary's rugged lifestyle. He hated many of the people he met, and the few he respected were killed. Isolation, he decided would be best. For the first time since his family was slaughtered by mysterious beasts, Ronin returned to Falkreath. Not being able to afford his own property, Ronin set up camp in the woodlands surrounding Falkreath and survives as a hunter. A month passes, and Ronin meets a small band of hunters. A nord woman by the name of Angi especially rouses Ronin's interest, and he joins the group, later forming strong friendships with all of them. From here we have yet to see where Ronin's path will lead. But his past was a violent one, and has followed him since the night his family was killed. For most full moons in Skyrim, and seemingly after each major event in his life, Ronin could slightly detect a malicious presence nearby...but could never find where or what was following him. Even now, he remains very aware of this anomaly as the frequency of it increases. Especially now that he has finally found happiness
    #1139 Ihadabadday, Dec 19, 2015
    Last edited: Dec 19, 2015
  20. Balomew

    Balomew Active Member

    Jun 10, 2015
    Likes Received:
    I D O N N E
    R E L I G I O N : Devout to Kynareth, believing that it could only be she that blessed her with the Shadow constellation as a birthsign. Much of her life has indeed revolved around this deity, and it seems that their interactions will not cease at prayer and holy action. Like her kin, Sheor is blamed for unexpected failure, especially in crucial moments.

    P H Y S I O L O G Y : Idonne is a 24 year old female Breton. Her pale, somewhat waxen complexion and height at 5'3" is expected of one of race. Tawny hair is often pinned up in a bun to accentuate green eyes and sharp angular features. Exercise has squared curvy features and straightened her posture. There are few marks on her skin besides her right hand, recently scarred by magical fire, the skin thick and taunt.

    S K I L L S : Idonne is skilled in stealth. Shadow and silence her allies, she is experienced in sneaking undetected in residences. She is capable of picking open locks quickly and quietly. Speech saves when she cannot escape. Idonne is skilled at memorizing maps or geography and is versed in deceit in the face of authority. She is evasive, utilizing guerilla tactics, preferring to cave in and then unexpectedly strike with force.

    S P E L L S : None currently but she will potentially train in illusion in the future. Due to her unusual birthsign, she can chameleon for a short duration.

    G E A R : Idonne has had no combat training or experience, and she has never used the dagger for defense that she was given young. She will use the environment or concoctions to escape. Idonne continues to don the fine clothes she wore in Wayrest, although they have been rendered thin, tattered, and filthy from travel, and provide no protection. Idonne does carry a satchel containing a few lockpicks and a journal containing descriptions of people and locations.

    F A M I L Y : Both her Breton father, Colin, and her Breton mother, Fianna Rosalis, are alive in Wayrest. Idonne's Breton brother, Bradic, is alive somewhere in Cyrodiil, where he manages the family trade there.

    P E R S O N A L I T Y : Idonne has never killed nor paid for her crimes. She is arrogant, naive, and convinced that her actions benefit others. Beneath this all, she is undeniably fiercely loyal to family and desires companionship. Despite this, she is not a trustworthy companion on the field, being more interested in her well - being more than others.

    H I S T O R Y

    On the ninth of Hearthfire 4E 177, a second child was born in Wayrest, High Rock to a family of three well - doing merchants. Although she was supposed to be born under the Lady constellation as befits one born in the month of Hearthfire, it was the Shadow that crept overhead that night, and so it was that an opportunity was granted to newborn IDONNE GOSSELIN by Kynareth's watchful touch. While a youth, Idonne learned how to steal from merchants, at first reprimanded. To her, it was a game. To local merchants, she was a mischievous child going through a phase, and certainly her curiosity would eventually steer her away from the dark path of a thief. For a time, that cold have been true, for she eventually saw no need to continue.

    Shortly, corsairs invaded and raided the local Dark Brotherhood sanctuary, and eventually left when trade circulation cut off, no longer able to sustain their presence. The took their memory with them, for Wayrest soon forgot them. Idonne's parents educated her about politics, specifically as it pertains to merchants, which it a Game most crucial to Breton society throughout the province. The Gosselin family was known in this region for their business. Their main competition was the neighboring Weir family. Idonne had no patience for this political game, for why play it when you know how to win? But nobody seemed to understand, and she was expected to fulfill her role as her brother had. Her unhappiness provoked an idea.

    It was during Idonne's years as a teenager that items in the Gosselin household disappeared from one place only to be found in another. For a time, the family believed that a poltergeist was behind this mischief ; in truth, these were Idonne's practice sessions at an old childhood sport. As the family became more cautious, so did she, adapting to their strategies. This went on for longer than anticipated, several years in fact, and never did either give up their guard. Comfortable with her talent, Idonne came to realize that she knew little of the Game, and opened up to her family as a unique opportunity to secure a foothold in it, to favor their position.

    She was proud to burglarize the Weir household in the name of her family's pride and welfare. She stole for many years, tampering with documents and items in the house to bewilder the family and make them seem incapable to the people. The Weir family suspected than an ally of the Gosselin family was behind the burglaries, but their word was never taken seriously. As the family's security gradually tightened, Idonne's abilities improved, and there a fault was found at the foundation to crumble what she had so long built.

    The thief, a shadow, always left a white aster only found wild in the neighboring forests. Idonne dwelled there often, to a sanctuary in the trees where she could reconnect to Kynareth and herself. It was as if Sheor had tattled on her. Idonne was followed here by the Weir heir and his friend. They were unarmed when they confronted her and accused her of thievery. When she rejected their claims with growing hostility, the heir pushed forward and burned her hand as punishment. This, then, was about revenge, not justice. When they continued to pester her, she vanished before their eyes. Although shifting grass betrayed her route, she only escaped when they drew too far from the city.

    To Wayrest citizens, she haunts the wood, murdered by players of the Game. The antics of the clothed thief remain of some interest to merchants in High Rock. In all truth, the falling darkness inspired Idonne. She was unwilling to return home, for although she may have already jeopardized her family's good name, she is fearful of further punishment she might face, scared of living in fear or doubt. And, perhaps, she was hit with a measure of wanderlust. She disappeared into the shadows of the wood, heading northeast to the Skyrim border. There she crossed near Dragon Bridge. Hammerfell was not a viable option, as its borders were sealed and guarded after their conflict with the Aldmeri Dominion and removing itself from the Empire. As of now, Idonne is found near Dragon Bridge with no coin, no gear, and not a clue what to do.
    #1140 Balomew, Dec 26, 2015
    Last edited: Jan 14, 2016

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