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    TrannyTrain5000

    New Member
    Name: Ra'Sava Sahir

    Race:
    Khajiit

    Age:
    26

    Height:
    5'11"

    Gender:
    Male

    Class:
    Thief

    Look:
    Ra'Sava has short orange fur, and jet black markings lining his body and tail. The left half of his face is mostly black, along with part of his right cheek. He has short jet black hair and a mustache that he braids. He has scars that dot over his face and his body. He's decently built, but relies more on speed than strength.

    Personality:
    He enjoys being near people, though he despises talking to anyone he doesn't have to. Ra'Sava tends to have a cold expression on his face no matter what mood he's in.


    Misc: He loves to travel, and will walk until he HAS to stop to rest. Although he is a thief, he will collect small treasures and sell them to local shopkeeps. He's very skilled with a dagger, but he's not perfect. Same with sneaking, he's very good, but he still gets caught sometimes.
     

    Kim243

    New Member

    Name: Garakh Murzush

    Alias: N/A

    Age: 22

    Birth Date: 4E 189, 2nd of 1st Seed

    Birth Place: Midwife’s hut, Dushnik Yal

    Gender: Female

    Race/Origin: Orc (100%)

    Class: Fighter (Heavy Armor/Polearms)

    Profession: Bounty Hunter (Armorer during peacetime)

    Laterality: Left Handed

    Sexuality: Bisexual

    Relationship Status: Single (Sinmir’s ex)

    Family: Sheoth Murzush, Mother (deceased); Bormok Buruk, Estranged Father; Muga Buruk, Estranged Half-Brother on father’s side; Rulum Rugdek, Auntie on mother’s side; Urzgat Bhaar, Estranged Grandmother on father’s side

    Possessions/Heirlooms: Steel plate armor she forged for herself; tiny, carved wooden figure of Malacath; silver & sapphire earring she occasionally wears

    Affiliations: The orcs of Dushnik Yal, though their relationship is strained; initiate status with the Companions, though she also left them; loosely with the Imperials, as she forged armor for them for a while, but was never really a part of the Empire, nor did she desire to be.

    Afflictions: Awkward right shoulder from when she dislocated it as a child; Anxiety that presents itself in an aching chest, which she berates herself over and tries to ignore.

    Religion: Prays to Malacath and tries to appeal to his affinity for strength; also respects Zenithar


    Appearance: 5’9” tall, 200 pounds, mostly muscle, though some fat; pierced eyebrow with orichalcum ring through it; short, black hair around two inches long; pretty muscular, with a slightly larger left arm thanks to smithing; heavy lower jaw associated with orcish blood, though her tusks are small, as befitting her sex; tries to offset her masculine appearance by speaking in her upper register, which results in her sounding like a human woman, though sometimes also results in voice cracks; when wearing more form fitting clothes, her broad hips and breasts are perceptible, but she usually dresses more utilitarian than that; when naked, there is no question of her sex, though the muscles are usually more readily apparent than the breasts. Several scars, the two most prominent a draw cut down the back of her left arm and a lateral one across her right cheekbone.


    Personality: Boisterous and irreverent around people she doesn’t know well, and often is around people she does know well, too. Definitely has a softer side, but hardly ever shows it, and pretty much only to people she very much likes or even loves. Tends to anger quickly when people accuse her of things, or when talking about sensitive subjects, as a result of the anxiety she tries so hard to suppress. She keeps her cool during fights, usually, and uses work as a form of meditation. She exercises and trains regularly, and also tries to use that as a form of meditation, though it is less effective. In fighting, she is brutally efficient, and doesn’t usually take extra strides to act mercifully. Regularly gives beggars and orphans extra money when it’s convenient, but usually when no one’s looking.

    Habits/Quirks: Twiddles a coin between her fingers absentmindedly, sometimes putting off the wrong message by accident; habit of cleaning dirt from under her fingernails with a tusk; eats overly properly in public, but overly messily on the road; voice often cracks when she laughs; mutters to herself as she works, sometimes counting hammer strikes, sometimes having imaginary conversations; cracks her knuckles a lot; tends to sneer at people she dislikes without thinking about it;

    Skills: Quite skilled with polearms and large axes, but truly shines when wrestling; smiths armor quite well, but is less skilled at other kinds of metalworking; cooks food that isn’t much besides edible; basically proficient with a bow; great at beating people to death when she’s wearing gauntlets; can fight in full plate armor without flagging too bad for a good fifteen minutes

    Aspirations/goals: Earn a comfortable living right now, but long term, survive the war and reconcile with her family and tribe, while also (warning) killing the plops out of her dad for forcing her mother into sex and beating his kids, and end it all with setting up a smithing trade in Markarth or Whiterun, depending on which way the war goes.


    Gear and fighting style

    Wears full steel plate armor, though sometimes moves the faceplate to keep fighting longer. Wields a lucerne with an orichalcum head and a one handed warhammer and dagger, usually, but could swap the lucerne for a bow or shield, should the situation call for it.

    Head: bascinet w/hinged, perforated face plate and a chainmail coif

    Torso: sturdy, skyforge steel breast and backplate, loose steel hip guards, thick steel codpiece, with gambeson and riveted mail beneath

    Arms and shoulders: standard shoulder pauldrons, elbow guards, and lobstered gauntlets that cover most of her forearms and have slightly protruding knuckles, with gameson and riveted mail beneath

    Legs and feet: riveted mail down to her ankles, with sturdy leather boots and steel knee guards

    Every day carry: see above for when she’s doing mercenary work or is travelling in dangerous areas. In cities, thick, fine clothes and a dagger on her belt, with a few extra pieces of jewelry, and when smithing, a thick blacksmith’s apron, heavy leather gloves, a hammer, and a dagger.

    Weapons: Usually fights with a lucerne that has an orichalcum head, a steel, one handed warhammer, and a slim bladed, steel dagger. Also has a hunter’s bow, a quiver of 20 steel tipped arrows, and an oaken heater shield, should the situation call for it

    Fighting abilities: see skills

    Fighting style: A brutal, efficient fighter. Kills or disables as efficiently as possible in order to end the fight in her favor. This means charging lighter armored opponents to defeat them before her armor can tire her out, or, if they are also heavily armored, crushing their helmets with the lucerne, or tripping them up with it, and then sticking them with the dagger after maintaining a dominant position over them. If an enemy closes past her lucerne, then it is time for the warhammer, or for some wrestling. If her enemy is lightly armored, she’ll go for elbows and punches in the clinch or on the ground, as she is quite dominant there against most opponents. Outside of her armor, she will do whatever it takes to win, if that means killing, maiming, strangling, beating them until her hands break, stabbing them with her dagger, or if she can’t win, then getting help, running away, or surrendering.
     

    Talia Wind-Strike

    Collector of Dwemer Artifacts
    Talia Wind-Strike
    Race:
    Nord (moddifed facial structure to look more like an elf with the RaceMenu mod)
    Standing Stone:
    The Warrior
    Skills:
    Heavy Armor(Juggernaut 4\4, Well Fitted, Cushoned)
    Two Handed(Barbarian 1\4)
    One Handed(Swordsman 4\4, Blademaster)
    Block(Shield Charge)
    Modded Ability:
    Tonal Resonence(activates the Tonal Archetecture Spells.)
    Tonal Archetecture Spells:
    Tonal Teleport(instantly moves the player to wherever the spell is being cast. has to be cast on the ground.)
    Modded Spells:
    Steam(shoots a gout of steam that does 10 Damage to Health)
    Vanilla Equipment:
    Dwarven Armor of Emenent Destruction
    Dwarven Bracers of Emenent Wielding
    Dwarven Boots of Muffling
    Dwarven Helmet of Emenent Destruction
    *Dwarven Sword of Sparks
    *Dwarven Shield
    *note: the reason why my sword and shield in the picture are really big is because i have scaled them up using the RaceMenu mod and also because with the Dwarven Hyperion equiped the armor is supposed to one whole Powersuit (read backstory) and it has a strength boster allows her to wield them that big in RP.
    Modded Equipment:
    Dwarven Hyperion Master(from the Space Wikings Dwemer Exo-Skeleton mod)
    Dwemer Goggles(Worn with helmet to make it ocular enhanced)
    Dwemer Scouter(Worn with Hood)
    Heavy Dwarven Mage Hood
    (note: see my profile for the pictures of the armor and weapons equiped)
    Ocupations:
    Seinor Member of the Archeology Guild of Tamriel
    Archeological Advisor to the College of Winterhold


    She is a Nord female with elven features that she gets from her father who is a Bosmer(Wood Elf) Noble from the provence of Morrowind. Her Backstory starts like this: Her life began as most kids do with the instant curiosty to explore like most babies
    but as she got older instead of the curiosty going away like most kids it became even more intense she would question everything and just kept wanting to know more about the world.
    so one day when she was old enough and had learned how to protect herself her father had brought her to Cyrodill to join the Archeology Guild in hope that she would be happy there and she was! all until one day during an expiditon to Morrowind to explore a newly discovered dwemer ruin. while she was exploring the lower levels of the ruin she came across an intresting artifact it was round sphere-like gem and what was intresting about it was the fact the when she got near it she heard whispers and when the other members of her group came into the chamber where she found it they could not hear the whispers so later that night when she was alone in her tent she took the gem out of its box and as both of her palms pressed flat against the gem suddenly time stopped around her and the whispers became voices, very deep and gruff voices she couldnt understand what they were saying but she did recognize a few words that were said because they were the names of dwemer ruins she had read about, and then she realized: she was hearing the dwemer, then she rememberd one of the theories she had read about during her studys on how the dwemer disapeared it said that during the war between the dwemer and the chimer, The head dwemer Tonal Architect Lord Kagrenac took Keening and struck the heart of Lorkhan and ever single dwemer vanished! they just disapeared! Then it made sense why she was hearing the dwemer: she had just tapped into the tonal structure of the universe! and so she began to tap into tonal magicks that no one except the dwemer ever had access to! and as she used the magic she got more confident in her ablities and took more risks not realizing that doing so would prove to be a fatal mistake because 30 years after her discovery she decided to try and change somthing about the tonal structure of her being and it went very very wrong. when she tried to expand her lifetime she instead made it so that her lifeforce was draining out of her and slowly killing her! so she tried as best she could to stop it. and so being the resourceful type, she managed to take the blueprints of a dwemer powersuit and modifed them so that the powersuit had a modified dwemer power core that acted as a life support so when she wore it it would constently fortify her lifeforce, but what she did not expect was that the power core not only kept her alive, it had also increased her lifeforce one hundered-fold making her basicly immortal but still able to get hurt! so now that she knew the consqences of being reckless she deceded to never again use her tonal magic and take her second chance at life knowing that there is some magic that should not be used! so she travels to skyrim and gets caught crossing the border and when she is made a prisoner of war she tells the soldiers not to remove the powersuit because if they did she would have died a few minutes later luckly when the guards didnt believe her there were a few battlemages there who could tell the powersuit was keeping her alive so they ordered the guards to leave her powersuit alone and when they got to helgen they just removed her helmet because it wouldnt matter if her health was being fortified the axe would still cut her head clean off! And there you go her backstory up until the start of Skyrim.
     
    Last edited:

    Hlíf 'Ulfr

    Nothing but a lyre
    Staff member
    DLAXJR9lb4hTUJnV1neEEHTxxk6C-WPkvMPy_emiRGb3FYqszgqNzqgifaGeC0GETMPhitjKxQYo3J0H4wuWfCNuBiZleWj9EW88wnY6HH4mGl0a-edZcOLC6fBm6dqcD8t-aJY0

    Céleste Moulin
    27 YEAR OLD FEMALE BRETON
    12TH RAIN’S HAND, HIGH ROCK, THE MAGE​


    “...unforgivingly, and forcefully magnificent...” - Maquita Donyel Irvin


    PERSONAL DETAILS:

    Alias: She takes pride and or ownership of all her actions and needs no other name attached to them. This means that some more informed may recognize her name and her status.

    Apparent age: The tenderness of youth has not left her to wrinkle and shrivel and yet there is an age to her face, a weight on her shoulders that denied any illusion of innocence. She is not young enough to be coddled but still within her prime, made evident in her movements. She appears in this way to be exactly what she is, a rare occurrence.

    Sexuality: She would keep the company of men, should she be able to find one she thought suited her however unlikely that may be. Despite that, she does appreciate beauty, an appreciation that extends to the finery and tenderness of women. With an inclination to covet beautiful things this could be confused with desire and has managed to create the occasional spell of uncertainty.

    Marital status: Single

    Occupation: Her family name presented her with the opportunity as one of many advisors to a young lord, however, she was able to quickly distinguished herself amongst them. Her voice held more weight, and her words and opinions more appreciated. She was important in all of the many roles she played. Someone that commanded respect and fear and so often sent out from court to court in search of solutions that she could easily have been considered a diplomat, likewise manipulative and sly enough to be called a politician. She had claimed the secrets of many and knew just how much of her hand to show, just when to play each card. Officially she was an advisor but there was not a soul who knew of her that believed she was that alone. Perhaps most accurately she was a facilitator.

    With all this lost she tends to travel aimlessly with no need to make extra coin for all her hidden wealth and ability to make something of so little. What she does do serves to occupy her attention, to aid in ignoring the void left by lack of purpose.

    Residence: Her old haunts are vacated, dust gathering and their old tenant cast out to drift in the wind. She roams now, searching.

    Family: Her living, immediate family consists of her mother, father, and brother (Émile) all of whom are estranged. Her twin sister (Cécile-Élise) died suddenly as a child.

    Affiliations: Having mostly operated within Highrock and other surrounding territories only when needed her affiliations in Skyrim are limited.

    Note-worthy Personal Relationships:
    Camille: He goes by one name, though recognizes none. While living he was known as a great hero to many within his homeland, a brilliant tactician and an exemplary warrior sadly killed in his prime. While it was a loss for most it presented an opportunity for a select few. It was rumored that after his tragic death the body disappeared. In truth it was collected and gifted by a lord, as reward for the discretion and loyalty of one of his advisors. Once decorated with titles and notoriety for his service, his animated corpse now goes without such formalities.

    As things stand he would have been unrecognizable in his current state even uncovered in Highrock. His wounds and mutilations only aided in maintaining the facade. When brought out in public, as well as when hidden in storage, he wears a respectable set of heavy armor that seemed to never be in disrepair. His visage hides in a simple helm, while his shoulders support a worn cape with layers of fabric falling around his neck and across his chest. His weapons and shield, though without flash, were well made. One might not, therefore, immediately recognize him as a husk if caught off guard.

    Frédéric Bouchard: The closest thing to a true companion she had ever gained during her adulthood was this man. A romantic affection existed between the two, alluded to often but kept unspoken publicly due to a love of mystery which injected the whole affair with excitement. As was proper they shared the same social and political circles and were both otherwise unattached. Nothing forbidden or inappropriate existed there which might have foreshadowed the traumatic betrayal that saw them separate, though it came regardless.

    Auguste: A proud and loyal creature, of fine breeding who commands the uptmost adoration. Magnificent in his colouring, a dark bay steed worthy of nobility whose black mane, tail and stockings contrasted beautifully with the blood red undertones, and small blooms of amber. Certainly not a draft horse, the trim and sleek stallion offered both stamina and speed but would never pull a plow.
    Political Views: Her thoughts on the politics of Skyrim are very critical as she finds them and their guardians often indelicate and brash.

    Religion: Though she recognizes “Talos” as a hero, a notable figure within history, she does not view him as a god. She believes that his worship should be treated more so as ancestor veneration. It's a middle ground which can be manipulated to be minimally abrasive if ever it was to be brought up in a political setting. Otherwise, religion is not what motivates her. She has a healthy respect for the divines and recognizes them but she is no temple priestess.

    Affliction/Disease/Ailments: Most likely she could be diagnosed with some form of anxiety and depression.

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    PHYSIOLOGY:


    She was dark, in presence and in look with just enough mystery to put one ill at ease. Even The air that hung about her seemed to be heavy as if it was difficult to breathe in her midst. It could have been that deep-set gaze, distrusting and only a hair's breadth from ebony that made her beautiful in the way all things unobtainable are, or perhaps it was simply the way she held her shoulders back as she considered the room with an inexplicable sternness resting like a veil over her face. She was like smoke, I decided then, as I watched the delicate pale skin of her throat grow taunt before a curtain of inky black tresses obstructed my view. If she came too near, and I should breathe her in, I feared I would never recover.

    She walked as if the world waited on her alone, a slow and purposeful walk which emphasize the smooth sway of her hips and the long legs that lead her. She was never generous with her laughter, no smile lines marked her, preferring to languidly extend a slender, soft hand in greeting with an undeniable sense of poise. It was all she needed, to cast her net of intrigue and to pull the unsuspecting in, a knowledge that was conveyed perfectly by the overwhelming intensity of her eyes. Indeed, she had a way of commanding respect, and expected it, as only those who had been impressive throughout their lives could. She was elegant and controlled but the darkness circling her eyes betrayed many sleepless nights, almost as much as that which lived in her gaze. Celeste Moulin was an embodiment of the pure essence of midnight, it pumped through her veins, with tragedy being its terrible consequence. It went without saying that within that women, somehow condensed to fit her 5’6 frame, was the power to build an empire or ensure it's destruction.


    Voice: A voice soaked in bourbon, raw and smokey. Steady and unwavering.



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    “Confident and strong, and as all of the best stones, most likely formed under intense pressure.”​


    PERSONALITY:

    The ability to take what was given to her and grow it into something far more fantastic, as she had done with herself, was learned young. She had been subjected to constant pruning and pushing, and many other such attempts to manipulate her to fit into the tight space they wanted her to fill throughout her youth. Whereas many would have submitted, and been tempered she rejected limitations and thrived.

    Each opportunity became tenfold with her own effort and tenacity, her overwhelming desire to succeed, and ambition for which she made no apology. There was always a drive for excellent fueled by recognition she refused to seek out or accept without earning it first. It brought her more pleasure than most anything else, and although not immune to pride, it had always been confidence that consumed her and helped to define the elusive woman in the eyes of the onlookers. To others, she was reliably true to her own agenda and strong beyond what was expected of her. Her charm, a particularly palatable variety of poison.
    She was an unpredictable team player, however, and not opposed to exposing the weaker members. The gift of her loyalty was so incredibly rare, and temporary alliance much more common, that it made her intense passion for safeguarding those she pledges herself to seem extreme, an opinion not without truth. Balancing diplomacy and a blunt and fiery temperament with unsettling ease made her uniquely suited to her position and though she felt no need to bite her tongue or hide her opinion she was still deeply private. Always keeping her own secrets hidden.

    In the political sphere she seemed to operate seamlessly but away from the space in which she shone, Celeste was profoundly tragic. She discouraged most physical affection, like her bones were made of glass and she was wary of being broken. Though she had built herself something worthy of gratification no satisfaction was awarded to her for any length of time, a soul stuck perpetually between questioning her worth and knowing exactly what she deserved. She was desperate for relief from the weight of her own scrutiny and the pressure that gripped her lungs and caused her heart to flutter wildly. But she had no right to feel this way, she believed firmly, for all she had and all those whose troubles here far beyond her own. So she caged her tortured thoughts and presented only her strength to those that were allowed to know her intimately, to her own detriment.

    Despite these dramatic statements, however, darkness did not rule her. Forceful, and pensive behaviour hid a dark sense of humor and the enjoyment of a little foolishness between friends for which she yearned. Likewise, though appearing serious she found that frivolous things pleased her, so much so that she fought herself not to collect them for the joy of it. It meant she made constant reminders that like people, possessions needed to have some use, to fulfill a purpose or she would drown in her own imprudence. A thought that likely revealed something unsettling about the way she viewed others. This was not helped by a concealed yet deeply sentimental nature and great tendency towards nostalgia. For this reason, all of her possessions held more meaning as they had utility, and were injected with traits that brought her happiness often through their luxury.

    Due to a great disturbance in her life, however, it is important to note, she has become increasingly unpredictable. What still lives of the political player is fractured, a creature evolved to suit a specific environment then cast from her biome. The risk of danger associated with her presence, therefore, has increased tenfold.

    “she was completely whole
    and yet never fully complete”


    -Maquita Donyel Irvin


    Positive Traits:
    Headstrong, Smart, Problem solver, Independent, Thorough, Disciplined, Discrete

    Negative Traits:
    Moody, Evasive, Pessimistic, Demanding, Mistrustful, Abrasive, Spiteful


    Likes:

    Gems and other finery
    Hot springs or being drawn a hot bath
    A strong and astute leader
    Stimulating and complex conversation
    Intricate lace and the feel of velvet
    Triumphing over an adversary
    Solving a difficult problem


    Dislikes:

    Incompetence
    Sexism
    Unseemly public displays of affection
    Being impacted by the social ineptitude of others
    Underserved or foolish leadership
    Having outsiders expect services of her


    Fears: Failure, Betrayal

    Current Goals: To redeem herself and expose those who have wronged her and chased her from her home. She is also ever searching for another hero to fall in her midst and to be recruited into her personal ranks.

    Alignment: Chaotic Good

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    COMBAT STATS/ DETAILS

    It was always excepted and natural that magic should be her field of study, though she could never accept being ordinary. Not that there was ever much of a choice. Céleste would have liked to claim that she had chosen necromancy, that it's taboo nature and intrigue drew her in, but it had chosen her in a most terrible of ways. From the unsettling past, however, she was able to build on a skill many refused to acknowledge with immense speed as if gifted. Using such skills, combined with a variety of other wells of knowledge she fortified herself to be a formidable opponent both in the verbal sphere and in the realm of physical warfare.

    She used them like walls to guard her, or did once. It is more accurate to say she used him to guard her with shield and sword and unshakable devotion. Camille was her wall, pushing against the tide as she sent courage through a body where nothing but emptiness. As in life, when her walls failed, she used fear to poison them and send the enemy to cower and await their demise in the shadows. To wait for the moment that she would choose as the end or to turn them against each other. Sending ice to hold them, to burn their skin with sick irony. To appear without a sign and use an embodiment of her power, summoned to take their souls. A shadow of a blade, glowing blue with its hate.


    Class: Necromancer, Witch

    Major Skills:

    Speech
    Conjuration
    Ilusion

    Other Note-worthy Skills:

    Destruction
    Sneak
    Lock Picking
    Alchemy


    Weapons: Her biting wit and magical talents don’t tend to fail her, however, it is always prudent to carry a supplementary dagger or two. Dagger and cloak as the saying goes…


    /GEAR/:

    The black velvet of her doublet was perfectly fitted and seemed to hold her in a way that no other was permitted. Bordered with a half inch of white ribbon with overlaying lace along its hem and climbing along each side of it's joining point which ran along its front. An inch away another similar ribbon mirrored the placement of the first. Structured until it reached the waist it gave way to flattering pleats and opened at this point in the front. Pearls were sewn carefully, scattered like stars bursting from the darkness of the upright collar though they faded and never reached very far. The scoop of its neckline could reveal any number of chemises, though while traveling a luxurious and lightweight linen was preferred for its breathability.

    During inclement weather, a great, heavy woolen cape swallowed her in its expanse, hood all but eliminating her from sight. Over black trousers and long leather boots which ended just above her knee, a layer of elegant travel skirts could be used to fight off the bite of cold. A jacket was also available, with long tails and demonstrating exemplary tailored work. Finally, though wool was often sufficient in its ability to retain warmth when soaked, a roll of waxed canvas was almost always to be found on her steed while she traveled.


    Laterality: Right-handed

    Inventory: TO BE ADDED

    HISTORY: TO BE ADDED

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    “She was a genius of sadness, immersing herself in it, separating its numerous strands,appreciating its subtle nuances. She was a prism through which sadness could be divided into its infinite spectrum.” ― Jonathan Safran Foer

    REFERENCES:

    Pronunciation of Céleste:
    Pronunciation of Moulin:
    Auguste: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/13/60/02/13600276eb3c5322ff59ef3146225d5f--cleveland-bay-horse.jpg


    A WEIRD SONG/ POEM TO FOLLOW THIS CARD:
     
    Last edited:

    Old soul

    New Member
    Name: Obron Azarain Race:Nord/Dark elf Class: Combat Rouge (Hybrid) Weapons: Dual wielded War knifes (blade of woe) destruction magic(fire) and crossbow. Birthstone: serpent Backstory: Obron Azarain was born into a life of hell and misery being a small and frail not to mention he wasn’t even a pure blooded which in turn made the Ashlanders mock him and treat him as a nothing he was teased for being different and not having ash skin like his brethren and was mocked but his mother was always there to stand for him and never let anyone hurt her child. His father was a nord who he’d never met before his mother always told him that his father was a valiant warrior who saved her life. But as one day when obron was playing with the other children they noticed a black hole in the ground where a stone laid with peculiar markings the other children bullied obron and threw him into the hole as obron hit the bottom he was broken and destroyed the kids he could hear teasing him from the top but then silence came. You do not pray for your gods said a voice obron looked up and said no, the being asked why and obron said the gods have never helped me aedra not daedra why should I ask for help now? The being grew form and turned into a black shadow with with only red/ orange eyes with a swirling blackness in the center the being reached out and grabbed him and comforted him in the place child there is no pain only empty no love or hate only silence this is the music of life. Obron began to cry as the being was comforting him and then his mother jumped down to save him but as she descended down the hole the being closed the entry my boy I have watched you struggle and I’m not like these gods your people worship I take no affairs in mortal life for I’m not bound to I am the inescapable darkness, the silent night, the empty all around you I am the void. My name is sithis. The boy looked up and said what will you do to me sithis shadow no human form wrapped around the boy and said I will grant you death the boys eyes faded to black and the world grew cold but as quickly as death took him it was gone he re awoken but felt different his mom screaming from the other side couldn’t see or hear him. Until a distinct sound rang out the sound of fire erupting from the hole obron came flying through black fire surrounded him and two blades in each hand rose and thorn a gift from sithis
     

    Specter of Death

    Omnipresent Moderator
    Staff member
    (The art used in this CC are not 100% depictions of this character, but rather accurate ideas of what his visage is. Please keep this in mind while reading, and rely mainly on the descriptions in his CC and use the photos as reference points and imagery.)

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    Verros Cassian
    "You can either change the world or waste your time protecting yourself from it."
    - Faleen, Housecarl of Jarl Igmund


    ~-- Basic --~

    NAME: Verros Cassian
    (pronounced [Veh-roh-ss]; [Kas-sea-en])

    ALIAS: Boy, Cassian, Squire

    AGE: 21

    BIRTH-DATE: 1st of Midyear, 4E 380

    BIRTH-PLACE: Unkown

    GENDER: Male

    RACE/ORIGIN: Imperial [100%]

    CLASS: Warrior/Housecarl

    PROFESSION: Squire to Faleen, Housecarl of Jarl Igmund of Markarth

    LATERALITY: Right Handed

    SEXUALITY: Straight

    RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

    FAMILY: Unkown

    HEIRLOOMS: His sword, a gift from his master; and his armour, crafted as a badge of his service.

    AFFILIATIONS: Markarth's Ruling House

    AFFLICTIONS: Night Terrors, Mild Insomnia

    RELIGION: Agnostic


    summersun_by_gerryarthur-d5cosgb.jpg


    ~-- Appearance --~

    HEIGHT: 5'7"

    WEIGHT: 143 lbs.

    BUILD: Average, Active, Youthful

    FACE: The softness of his youthful face is betrayed by the maturity in his eyes and stoic stare; a single scar divides his face while soft stubble accentuates his jaw and chin

    EYES: Hazel-brown

    SKIN-TONE: Slightly Tanned Caucasian, with somewhat of a "farmer's tan"

    HAIR STYLE: Cut comfortably short, thick with natural waviness

    FACIAL HAIR: Gently peppered stubble beard and moustache

    HAIR COLOR: Dark Brown, almost Black

    SCARS: Many small nicks dot the skin all over his body, none noticeable enough to be of note

    TATTOOS: None

    PIERCINGS: None


    counter_light_by_marinamichkina-dae0drp.jpg


    ~-- Personality --~
    the ultimate introvert

    TEMPER: Even-tempered; through his upbringing Verros has grown an extremely high tolerance for the poking, prodding and sharp words of others. He virtually never loses his temper, and if he has he can't remember it ever happening

    OUTLOOK: Mixed, but mostly pessimistic; much like his temper, his past has greatly impacted his view of the world and its workings. If asked he may put on a visage of uncertainty, though this is just to cover up his embarrassingly low opinion and expectations of the world.

    HONOR: Intense and High; as somebody who has never been granted the luxury of honour or honourable treatment, he refuses to treat others the way he has been treated and strives to give others the highest honour he can in hopes of earning the same.

    Alignment: Lawful Good; his training tells him to follow the law no matter what the situation, no matter his opinion. He holds himself to this expectation, as it's what separates him from those who may do him or others wrong.

    POSITIVE TRAITS: Surprisingly and Highly Intelligent, Naturally Protective, Inquisitive, Astute, Loyal, Lawful, Compassionate, Selfless, Charitable

    NEGATIVE TRAITS: Bull-headed, Stubborn, Specific, Shy, Willful at times, Loner

    LIKES: Reading, Exploration, Rain, Weather, Night Sky, Star Gazing, Sword Fighting/Dualling, Weapons Crafting & Repairing, Honorable Behavior, Protecting the Defenseless and Innocent

    DISLIKES: Upper-class Snobs, The Silverbloods, Forsworn, Prejudice, Racism, Sexism, Assuming Behaviors, Dishonesty, Disloyalty, Hate

    FEARS: Daedra; Monsters from other Worlds

    PHOBIAS: None that he's discovered yet

    HABITS/QUIRKS: He has a very stoic face, almost never showing emotion without proper motivation

    ASPIRATIONS/GOALS: To be promoted from Squire to Housecarl, and being Chosen to Serve in someone's name, to protect the people of Markarth and the Reach as a master warrior


    cord_sullivan_by_gerryarthur-d9ovxgo.jpg


    ~-- Gear and Fighting Style --~
    [Note that the Artwork Above this is an almost spot on idea of what I would like him to be wearing]

    HEAD: Most commonly nothing, he doesn't own any helms, hats or hoods of any sort.

    ARMS AND SHOULDERS: His arms are covered will by his white undershirt, while a leather gauntlet and a matching bracer over his left and right hand and forearms. His upper arms and shoulders are covered with a secondary, slightly heavier and denser stone-grey tunic. His leather chest-piece rests overtop each shoulder, while a single pauldron sits on his left shoulder.

    TORSO: His white undershirt sits under his more protective stone-grey shirt, while a thick leather chest-piece/vest wraps around his frame. Occasionally around his torso he wears--from left shoulder to right hip, is a thick leather strap that holds a quiver to his back.

    WAIST: A wide waist cover and belt with 2 pouches and 2 sheathes on either side.

    LEGS AND FEET: He wears thick dark-grey leggings, with shin-high leather boots.

    EVERYDAY CARRY: He never takes his sword or knife off his body unless he is sleeping or engaging in activities that don't allow them, but outside of his weapons nothing but the clothes on his back.

    WEAPONS: His main and most frequently used weapon is his Steel Colovian Longsword, Shira Hel or "Noble Sword". A gift from his master and teacher Faleen, she named it in Yoku--an ancient Redguard language, and retrieved it when she landed her first strike on her teacher. Which is how Verros earned it from her [CLICK HERE FOR PHOTO]. He carries with him alongside his sword, a simple steel knife he crafted with the guidance of Moth gro-Bagal--the Understone Keep Blacksmith [CLICK HERE FOR PHOTO]. His last and most underused weapon is his simple Maple-Wood longbow [CLICK HERE FOR PHOTO], with his own self-crafted arrows--which he crafts in his free time frequently [CLICK HER FOR PHOTO].

    FIGHTING ABILITIES: He's young, and has only a small fraction of the skill his master possesses herself; but for his age, she says "you got the stuff." He's never been sure what that meant exactly, but he always took it as a compliment and assumed it meant he was pretty good with a sword. He's been able to land a total of 366 strikes on his master in their duals so far, which is impressive compared than when she first started training him. He aims to be as good as Faleen one day, and eventually better. He's never really used his bow or knife for anything more than hunting small game, though he can see the usefulness they could carry in other situations.

    FIGHTING STYLE: Verros, like his teacher, is a calculated one-handed longsword user. While most blade users would fight quick and offensively, Verros has been taught to fight reactively. Using the power of his foe against him, choosing to go on offence selectively and strategically. A much different style of blade mastery than most have seen in the northern province--one underestimated and looked down on by many. But the wisest and smartest of men choose this style over most others when given the option.


    comm__hael_by_chuumink-d64rxiw.jpg


    ~-- Voice and Score --~

    VOICE: Youthful, Calm, Friendly, Purposeful, Proud

    VOICE REFERENCE:
    Matthew Broderick as Simba from The Lion King [CLICK FOR EXAMPLE]
     

    Hlíf 'Ulfr

    Nothing but a lyre
    Staff member
    Jk2i4CJsaEdByxutJEcqqd-U7jkfjd1tziwjJ_-I0ElnjsY1OVPw3x133EL3bvdsAONyKvvelsgLNQ3fmxIzy0Pr_ETs_Kmm6LeLNU-bqXYxWd7rlUCpoPT41Xvvf8_1Xm2n8ti1

    “Cerys”
    20 YEAR OLD FEMALE BOSMER
    1ST OF FROSTFALL, UNKNOWN BIRTHPLACE, THE TOWER

    “And just like a midsummer night’s breeze, she ran away, into the moonlight, a fox, proud and strong. The lone wolf walked away, saddened she was gone.” – Jason Winchester


    PERSONAL DETAILS:

    Alias: None

    Apparent age: Youth nearly defines her, from her behaviour to her appearance it is a tool used to disarm and to give her an upper hand. It goes without saying therefore that she is not often mistaken for a woman beyond her years.

    Sexuality: Though never having entered into a relationship before she appreciates the appeal as well as the process of courting. Thus far she has only found herself attracted to men although she is not above a cheeky flirt in order to get what she wants from the fairer sex.

    Marital status: Single

    Occupation: As a second class citizen the bosmer was nothing but a thief and an imaginative problem solver, yet never a beggar. She would take what charity was offered but always, in her own way, attempted to pay back each kindness as well as each unkindness. She evolved with age, however, cleverly using her knowledge of the city to “retrieve” items of value, returning them to their rightful owners to demonstrate her skills. She was the thing they never knew they needed, or at least she had convinced them of such. Her main occupation is now retrieving goods, a venture on which she can support herself without crime and give back. This doesn't mean she has completely given up pilfering valuables, only that she reserves such treatment for the less savory characters she encounters.

    Residence: She grew up on the streets of Markarth, though she was not born in Skyrim, and boasts an intimate knowledge of each street and of the people that walk them. After escaping an attempt to send her to live amongst the other orphans she found some shelter amongst the vagrants in beggars row, learning from them what she could. This is no longer her residence, however, as she has quite literally moved up in the world. During the warmer months, she lives above the city on a covered balcony long forgotten by the rest of the world where she can watch the streets, and be alone.

    Family: The orphan has no recollection of a father figure, though she knows of course that she must have had one, even if only in a biological sense. He was no more than an idea in her mind, an explanation for features on her face who played no role in the dreams she had fancifully created as a lost child. She had never depended on him for hope, he was nothing like the mother she had fought desperately to hold on to, as she slipped from this world. She had pieces of that woman, memories that had been worn from years of being held too tightly. Her favourite of them all being the vague and solitary memory of feeling love.

    Affiliations: Her only affiliates don’t organize under any one name. They are the unfortunate and the impoverished, the unwanted and the undeserving, the beggars and wretches that society has deemed unfit. She grew up amongst them, and would have been one of them had fortune not decided against it.

    Noteworthy Personal Relationships: (Open for editing)

    Political Views: The disdain she holds for the politics of Markarth began with the death of her mother and had continuously been reaffirmed throughout her life. The corruption and treatment of the less wealthy occupants disgusts her, and the guards and leaders who allow it all to happen are met with something closely resembling hate. Distrust was the most she could think to reward them for their past trespasses, caution was a necessity.

    Religion:

    Affliction/Disease/Ailments:




    qajNkBymGRv9rAjZ0MdHcDIjeFmc5ROywUf45lo2T00a3wHcUagQ5gnS8fx_rDFl-mDO0mcvpPgCGSms3rmJYXEezUE07dW0xW8RMJmnfdsWEWQUnnVI28kpUqTJRqGPCUlpVhgU


    “The only thing I was trying to portray was serenity. Also, innocence, vulnerability and elegance.” -Sylvia Kristel


    PHYSIOLOGY:

    She was unexpected, that I could say for certain, in the same way that saw the sun break through the grey of winter to make you realize there was unappreciated beauty all around you, that you had only failed to notice. Likewise, she was a fire, a slow-burning flame that fed itself on tinder and pieces of lumber collected from the parts of the city that could no longer support themselves, that were useful to no one but her. She had that look about her of something that could not be held but only appreciated, more of a feeling or a fleeting experience had always existed on its own volition and came at no ones call or bequest. Snow and fire, like the exquisite paleness of her complexion against the deep auburn of her curls that framed the fox-like face, dotted with muted freckles and pink-hued cheeks.

    Excusing all the frivolously romantic statements, she was to me still a thing of intrigue. Mountains of curls spilled around her like a river, gleaming in the light, through which slender ears appeared to always be in a state of blushing, glowing as the sun passed through them. When she would bind the mane in braids and leather strips it was revealed that she possessed a rather swan-like neck, elegantly poised between two small shoulders housing a sprinkle of freckles.The rest of her frame I could only assume followed suit, from what I could see her greatest strength was in her legs though she was ultimately svelte, lissome and slender. It was all so clear in her elegant and seamless way of conducting herself, each movement completely natural and spirited. Also worth noting were her quick fingers that would have been ideal for the mastery of any number of instruments which often left me to wonder if the melody I had once thought imagined, playing illusively on the breeze, was of her making. It was all rather mysterious, which only served to draw me in further, mystery being somewhat of a pastime of mine.

    However, I was most transfixed and often enchanted by her eyes above all else. Her face was lovely of course, as already described. High cheekbones and heart-shaped with a slim nose, it complimented her other features kindly, sharp and soft all at once. Her lips could have hoped to rival her gaze should it not have been so piercing, with a deep cupid's bow and an enticing fullness bathed in a gentle rose palette, but there was no hope for me there. I got lost somewhere between the ring of deep dusty green that hinted at blue that circled her iris, and the fern, seafoam green-hued backdrop upon which the rest of the colours reached. Webs of white began to entangle me, holding my lungs captive as bursts of yellow faintly trailed them, as I neared the darkness of the pupil only to find a brilliant burst of fiery orange encircling the black, and defining its borders. Red, I would blush a thousand times to linger on the unique show of colours, but of course, it was her nature that I should never have my wish. She was too sly to ever let me know her as more than a mirage, dancing and ever-changing against the heat of my desires.


    Voice: A breathy, warm, soft, murmured voice. Feminine, evokes a sense of innocents with a playful seductive tone.


    J4NDu8aV5LFy1aDjWQygNvUEC_ZrvPQx51RKE8ejXlV4tGa6Lh1lKN4x0I-6PhLlJ003xzaTZSteWYASSTm-Vbg85KesP8UTvJxXZd38HDpXuS6sMIEfciV6cuYrjn9glPUiZOe4

    “...I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world…” -Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Le Petit Prince


    PERSONALITY:

    As far as most onlookers are concerned two main conflicting traits dominate the lithe bosmers personality. The first of the two was embodied in the way that she carried herself through life with an intoxicating youthfulness and sweet demeanor that made her delightfully unassuming. An Innocents characterized by her age and cultivated by careful presentation and denial of knowledge known to her in order to appear unthreatening. In this, her kindness lived as well, perhaps the most genuine and disingenuine aspect of this specific grouping of traits. Her eagerness to aid coupled with her naive belief that she could make a change that was so often thought to be a weakness, only a lure for a lesson sorely learned to reveal the second grouping or characteristics.

    The second painted her as a sly, crafty character whose role would have been the trickster in any myth or tale. Sharp-witted beyond anyone's assumptions she was almost exclusively able to use these traits in conjunction with the first to leave targets feeling the impact but confused as to where to place blame for the fallout. Deeply manipulative it is wholly unclear if her kindness is genuine in each individual case as she will often choose to treat others as a friend for her own personal gain. With a set of warped yet stanch values that define her she is willing to use others to obtain her goal and having been abandoned and dismissed so often finds it easy to slip away without much of a second thought. This makes her typically disloyal, not finding anyone deserving of such treatment. Those that push her should be cautious as her false demeanor can be abandoned to reveal a rather unsavory vicious edge.

    Beyond the Cerys presented and utilized when facing a harsh world a more playful and true nature exists within the small space she has created for herself, high above the city. Curious beyond reason and with an innate ability to climb and desire to sit atop the tallest spires of the city she often escapes to heights that others should quiver in fright to simply consider. Above the streets, the chaos can not reach her, and she is able to enjoy the solitude of her own company. Cheeky and somewhat scrappy she was not without humor and grit though she had few to share in this aspect of her. She understood survival, and had a great knack for it, but ran into problems considering anything beyond this. Relationships made one weak, she had come to understand, and no one loves a sad girl. She was always quick to learn and had a desire for knowledge, and this lesson she had come all too quickly.


    “A fox is a wolf who sends flowers.” -Ruth Brown



    Positive Traits: Youthful, Confident, Kind, Perceptive, Intelligent, Giving, Humble, Controlled, Street-smart, Driven, Adventurous, Spontaneous


    Negative Traits: Emotionally manipulative, Distrusting, Selfish, Deceptive, Fickle

    Likes:
    • A favourite past time of the mer is to climb to great heights in the city, and on sporadic outings into the surrounding hold. She is extremely adept in this venture being quite dexterous and takes full advantage of this for tactical reasons as well as for personal enjoyment. She finds great satisfaction in looking over the streets and valleys, watching life unfold.

    • She has an insatiable need to learn and a quick mind to keep up with most anything thrown her way, therefore she is always looking to learn something from the world, and people around her.

    • Freshly baked pastries and fresh fruit are amongst her favourite treats, though she almost exclusively avoids meat.

    • One of her earliest memories is that of running her fingers over the leather of one of her mothers' old books and learning to read over those same pages. She finds great joy in them because of this.

    • Warm furs and skins were once a luxury, and remain so to a degree. Being warm and comfortable was never a guarantee in beggars row and so her own sheepskin bedroll is a prized possession.

    • Feeling of being freshly clean and of clean cloth on her skin gives her the sense of a more simple and gentle world. When possible she also enjoys swimming in remote pools of water within the reach.

    • Fragrant flowers are amongst her favorite flora, those with pure white petals enthrall her that much more.

    • Rising with the sun, and finding peace under the light of the moon.

    • As many others do she finds herself quite enraptured by poetry and beautiful words. The same can be said of music and song, both of which she seems to possess a natural talent for.

    Dislikes: Corruption, Sexism, Elitism, Pompous behaviour, City guards, Most of Markarths governing powers, The smell of cooking meat and the sound of sputtering fat

    Alignment: Chaotic Good


    "Down the violet wind slid syrinx melodies, wild as foxes, mad as love, strange awakening." Cecilia Dart-Thornton


    PSFSgRlxubT0on0yJ7trW1sLTiyQROxYfUatgSXPFcbh79Efc0jlphDdNUwS9_X4Iz9KegtvVthMt3N8fKxtxdLkF1xYFZX2A9i2u9Q0Y2Ci6Dg04gyX--1kZNFkIproMjXirpcb


    COMBAT STATS/ DETAILS:


    Being a rather gifted thief has meant that Cerys has not had to face as many confrontations as some in the same line of work, however living on the streets has taught her to defend herself with adequate skill. As a young child she was an easy target for those whose morals did not stop them from preying on children. To avoid going hungry she quickly learned to use her speed, size, and knowledge of the city to defend herself and flee while also remaining constantly alert, relying on her ability to remain in the shadows whenever possible. She learned when to strike first and when to stay hidden and slowly how to fight back.

    With the introduction of daggers she had the opportunity to become lethal, though she always preferred to disarm or incapacitate a threat. Still, the daggers were useful in many other ways and became a staple along with her lockpicking tools, climbing gear, and trusty rope. Should she not be able to talk her way out of something, which was rare, she would be prepared.

    As far as magic is concerned the mer can boast no more than a few simple spells taught by the odd vagrant or patient citizen. She desires to learn and the wit to succeed however she has not been presented with the opportunity which was, as she saw it, everything when it came to magic. For this reasons she will not depend on even those spells familiar to her in a pinch as she believes them to be unpredictable in their outcome.



    Class: Thief/ Rogue


    Major Skills:
    • Sneak

    • Pickpocketing

    • One handed

    Other Noteworthy Skills:

    • Lock Picking

    • Speech

    • Unarmed

    • A tentative command of various low-level spells
    Weapons: The only true weapon she carries are daggers, of various makes but suitable quality. Though one rests on her hip in a fringed sheath the others are more carefully hidden, calculated in their placement for ease of use. Aside from this some of the tools hanging from her belt for use when climbing could also make for glorious weapons should she feel the need.

    /GEAR/:

    The Bosmer avoids being obvious within a crowd and will openly laugh at any thief who clothes and arms themselves as one would expect a criminal to do. The most successful thief is the one that no one suspects is the truth of her practice and the rule by which she adorns herself. When not necessary armor of almost any sort are abandoned, leaving her with only the basics.

    Her boots are sturdy brown leather, comfortably worn and soft. Ending below her knee they reveal brown and white herringbone winingas each pinned with a simple pendant within which her slate grey pants are neatly tucked. Loose along her body and made of what appears to be thick linen they are only interrupted by leather knee guards and a few brass buttons. She sports two reliable belts, with one snuggly around her waist and the other falling to one side. Boasting a number of small pouches, a few dagger sheaths, a length of rope, climbing implements, an embroidered cloth and many small trinkets they are largely utilitarian in nature. Around her waist and ending beneath her bust a more supple and thin leather piece holds her, pale brown leather with cream sinew along it's seams with a loose cream chemise beneath. Other articles depend largely on the season though she wears various gloves throughout the year and always appears in a grey cape capable of concealing her face and form.

    Laterality: Ambidextrous


    Inventory: TO BE ADDED



    0XKv__mP4_-A8Qe3rfljVGeoRWIYlkJHf2sfeQA-8lfmfT_JwjcddU_kO1UAXJ1SLxEM8ydROxlExmc8g16pDG35hXlUny4DYdA60P1TeSmQ1yUFDMJew2tyCF6NWxFlRiQZ0MeC



    HISTORY: TO BE ADDED


     

    Hlíf 'Ulfr

    Nothing but a lyre
    Staff member
    editkat.jpg

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    Ma’Aashi the Fair/ The Pale

    20 YEAR OLD FEMALE SUTHAY
    HEARTFIRE, MISTRAL ELSWEYR, THE LADY


    “Power is no blessing in itself, except when it is used to protect the innocent.” - Jonathan Swift

    PERSONAL DETAILS:

    Alias: Her name is followed by one of two titles, both in reference to her colouration. She is known as both “Ma’Aashi the Fair” and “Ma’Aashi the Pale.”

    Apparent age: Her frame and size may lead those who are not knowledgeable on the variety of khajiit to assume she is a youth or a child. Those who know better can still see her youthfulness, though she is no kit.

    Sexuality: When first afflicted with romantic feelings the target of affection for the girl was a rather androgenous khajiit with whom she traveled for a short time. Though nothing came of it the two made eyes and flirted often, and never did it occur to Ma’Aashi to inquire as to their biological gender. It seemed unimportant and continues to be. She would be identified as pansexual for this reason.

    Marital status: Single

    Occupation: She requires none of her own funds as her family can provide for her and so she treats the ill and injured without asking for anything in return.

    Residence: As she travels the healer offers her services to those she meets as well as the temples and often will stay with them when granted entrance to the cities. When traveling she enjoys sleeping under the stars and by the flame of a fire.

    Family: She was born on a quiet and unseasonably cold night into a prosperous and close-knit family of four. With two doting parents, she always knew love and having been preceded by two brothers was well watched over. The eldest brother, a Cathay like her father, had an even temperament and dotted on his youngest sibling with endless patience. The bond between them was strong despite the large age gap between the two. What lessons she did not learn from her mother and father were imparted through him. Her second brother was a larger creature and though he inherited his father's talent for delicate work he was indelicate in every other sense. His temper was easily stirred, and he lived life with a fiery confidence. He would always defend his sister, though he was just as quick to snap at her.

    Their wealth was fed by trade and skill, her father a master jeweler and metalsmith while her mother commanded an impressive affinity for business and trade. The two were a perfect pair, complimenting each other beautifully, and would become the foundation of what the girl would view as an ideal relationship. They traveled often following new opportunities, exposing the khajiit to many different cultures and people, as well as tragedies. Empathy called to her, and her hatred for war and conflict which damaged the innocent became evident early on.

    Seeing her affinity for charity and compassion her parents were quick to seek out the best available tutors to mold the young mind. She took immediately to restoration and by her brothers' urging also studied alteration. He would protect her in this way, even when far from her side. When they did settle she could often be found offering her time to aid those less fortunate. She was well liked, though slightly peculiar.

    When her mother died unexpectedly it shook the family to its core. Her eldest brother had left years before to break out on his own, to trade in goods and explore Tamriel, returned with great haste. He made it just in time to see his father also pass of what was in truth a broken heart. The sudden loss of both parents brought two of the siblings even closer together, while it isolated the middle sibling as he threw himself into taking over his father's clientele and grew solum.

    She attempted to remain in her families home and managed to do so for the passing of a year. The cause of her departure was the increasingly erratic behaviour of her brother, for which she was most often the target despite her best efforts. Though she aided his mate with their son and gave her time where she could her brother began to view her as a pest. Following an incident that left her burned quite badly in his shop, she was retrieved by her eldest brother so that she might travel with him. She follows his ventures and remains in the same province that he occupies, always rendezvousing with him as he departs.

    Affiliations: Some of the khajiit that travel within Skyrim will recognize her brothers' name, and so too at times his sister. She can often rely on them for aid in traveling from one place to another. Though she does not follow the same religious pantheon that the temples of Skyrim worship she has offered aid to many and so has a generally positive relationship with many priests and priestesses.

    Noteworthy Personal Relationships:
    • Qa’Takaar (Youngest brother)

    • Ra’Zankir (Eldest brother)
    Political Views: Though Talos and his divinity means little to her the war has wounded her deeply for the suffering that it has caused. She wishes for an end to the conflict that does not lead to further harm and war.

    Religion: Her beliefs are those of her parents who followed the customs of their parents before them, following the khajiiti pantheon. S'rendarr, also known as "the Runt" has her patronage and her deviation above all others as the god of mercy and compassion.

    Affliction/Disease/Ailments: None

    3S7bX4v3fRoRWaet5k_rVPOSarSPiZEQ2ELy1Zw124Z7Y_twiEP_E3lPARKA-YZBB1sv0KxOt-w_yKfxK1TI7giv6S3v-vbeqVsVhX76O-4Z9JgMroAMU1Ebk64LdrgXIf_omjEz

    PHYSIOLOGY:

    She was a thing of finery, and so delicate that at times I dare not breath for fear of breaking her. Those who did not know better might think she was frail, for she was thin with prominent bones and narrow wrists. Her frame itself was wispy, fine-boned, and all of her curves were subtle. Standing at no more than 5’2 she took up little space and was far from imposing though she made room for herself humbly in the aura that she radiated.

    Her pelt was reminiscent of mist over the water. It was a glowing, healthy white without being stark or crisp. Fading along the upper half of her appendages, between her ears slipping over the top half of her face, and along the majority of her back a muted beige, grey tone added dimension and complexity. Her markings ranged in shades of brown, the lightest of these being the gentle spots that dotted her back and stripes that slid along her cheeks and began along her thigh and the base of her tail. Those stripes over her arms were similar, though less structured in shape. In all places but her face these markings darkened as they continued onwards though never becoming dark enough to disturb the impression that she had been set in the sun too long and had been bleached by its rays. Her eye sockets remained white while above each of them an oval marking could be found and from the inner corner of her eye, a marking resembling the staining of tears ran. Framing a diminutive pink nose a sandy colour bloomed, covering the lower portion of the bridge of her nose.

    The fur itself was plush and silky to the touch. Of average length over the majority of her body, it grows long and feathery on her elbows, cheeks, and tail. It was well groomed, as were her sharp translucent claws. The hair on her head was ashy and fell in loose waves instead of the popular dreaded style. It's layers framed her face and tapered off beneath her chest. Erupting from the crown of her head two exaggerated ears stood proudly. Almost comical in their size, and featuring small brown tuffs, they were one of her most expressive features. Though largely sandy a white spot was at the center of each while their interior and all other visible skin, including the large burn scar that covered her left shoulder and collarbone, was pink.

    Her face featured a serene countenance with refined features. A certain quality that made it hard to read also made her appear pensive or cold, and her lids heavy when she was deep in thought. Her eyes were peerless, like stars and constellations reflected on a still pool. Flecked with white, and webs of smoke they appeared almost milky but where in fact blue in tint, bordering on lilac. Her muzzle was small, and from it sprang long white whiskers. Hers was a distinctly enticing, attractive visage complimented by her tendency for motionless placidity.

    Voice: Growing up amongst a variety of cultures and people her accent is not as strong as that of many khajiits and is more so an undertone to a soft and even voice filled with rich and warm tones.

    Reference: Catherine Zeta-Jones
    CNQiLwOoK9HuN6N5f6tWzNnFEWJuWidxNxa3MUGqK-i1BSS05pQZFAUSkAfa-981ryb4OeDIC5OIGJLzzMZST2IETWlPy9rO20tKjE4QdywzJ9pAfmOnxqlPgeCa0dMmXlgNvR1J


    “A clear and innocent conscience fears nothing.” - Elizabeth I

    PERSONALITY:

    As a healer, Aashi is generous and giving, as well as patient beyond what anyone would expect of her. Mending others is her calling, her desire, and her drive. The opportunity to carry out her purpose, to instill hope and banish suffrage is all the payment she requires for her efforts. Regardless of the despair that surrounds her the good and the innocent fill her with hope and keep her own spirit from becoming dark. She seeks them out and attempts to guard them against pain, using herself as a shield if necessary.

    Conversely, she can also come across as apathetic at times due to her quiet demeanor and her tendency to observe before speaking. For a supportive figure, she is surprisingly independent and gets easily frustrated when she is assumed incapable. When angered a cold, icy air slips over her to defend against the tears that come with strong emotions. In these cases, she maintains a level voice and head. Believing that she is entitled to her opinion and the right to follow her own judgment she can become bullheaded, though never aggressive. Passive resistance is her favoured tool.

    She prefers to surround herself with people of skill and knowledge who are authentic in their lives and to themselves. One dimensional or typical people bore her and are easily discarded and given less value. She enjoys being dotted on and appreciated by those around her, beautiful words entice her, though she plays coy and disinterested. Unfortunately, her desire to heal others has resulted in her adopting a handful of harmful “friends” in the past with the hope of giving them the space they need to become whole once more. The resulting breaks always leave her torn up and are particularly difficult.


    Positive Traits: Kind, Charitable, Gratuitous, Well-Mannered, Meticulous, Calm, Capable, Empathetic, Modest, Mature, Selfless

    Negative Traits: Stubborn, Disobedient, Picky

    Likes:
    • Cultural songs: She believes that one can tell a lot from the songs a culture produces and so enjoys endlessly listening and examining the intricacies of each one
    • Unique architecture
    • Children and their innocents, as well as all others pure and true in heart without stupidity or ignorance
    • The warmth and glow of a fire, especially under the twinkling of stars and a full moon
    • Sparkling gems, as they remind her of her parents
    Dislikes:
    • Discrimination for her people who have experienced too much of it, and for any person who has suffered it without cause. She personally fights against the prejudice by giving rather than taking and living righteously.
    • Any individual who claims to be perfect, or acts as such. Likewise those that are shallow and lacking depth bore her and irritates her endlessly.
    • She abhors having to suffer fools
    Alignment: Neutral Good


    COMBAT STATS/ DETAILS:

    Ma’Aashi does not generally involve herself in combat, she is a healer and not one to deal injuries. When healing in the heat of conflict she uses mass spells as well as targeted wards to protect others and herself. Alteration is also used as protection and somewhat of a defense, though any offensive spells are a last resort. Even these spells are simply to give her time to escape and not meant to deal permanent damage. She also is quite familiar with herbal cures and remedies, though those are usually only used outside of battle.

    Class: Healer

    Major Skills:
    • Restoration
    • Alteration
    Other Noteworthy Skills:
    • Herbal Medicine
    • Jewel Appraisal
    Weapons: None, though she can often be seen with a simple wooden staff.

    /GEAR/: Her simple robe is made of a luxurious material resembling dupioni silk of reflective silver. It wraps around her side to be fastened with buttons caved of seashells and splits at when reaching her hips. Its lengths go past her knee by some but allow for ease of movement. Over this, a shall of grey, embroidered intricately with white thread, similar to those seen over the robes of many mages, hangs. The sash that holds this is white, and weaving in out of its length a fine silver chain with pendants of polished moonstone dangles. Attached to the belt hidden beneath is a leather contraption within which a book is bound.

    The trousers she wears are cream in colour and rather simple. They are loose without being baggy and are wrapped around her calf in a light pink material. Otherwise, her adornments are few and include silver cuffs and a long, thin silver chain with a diamond pendant crafted by her father. In colder weather, she wears foot covers as well as a heavy shall of white fur. A bag is slung over her shoulder to carry her possessions as she journeys between cities.

    Laterality: Ambidextrous

    Inventory: TO BE ADDED

    HISTORY:
     

    Matthias+

    Down among the dead men let him lie!
    [As I am unfamiliar with these boards, and unfamiliar with this board in general, I will attempt to duplicate the template of the character profile above me. I apologize in advance, both for the blatant steal, and for the drawing below. I cannot draw.]
    Matthias2.jpg

    *A crude sketch found on the wall of a home in a nameless village, in some corner of Skyrim, far in the future.*

    MATTHIAS
    BRETON, THIRTY-FOUR
    SUN'S HEIGHT, DAGGERFALL HIGH ROCK, THE SERPENT

    "Whenever a doctor cannot do good, he must be kept from doing harm."
    ~Hippocrates
    PERSONAL DETAILS:

    ALIAS ~ None.
    -
    Apparent Age ~ It is very hard to tell his age due to the fact that he's constantly wearing a waxed suit, with hat and mask, and even then, he is emaciated due to a weak physical constitution, because of that, it is very difficult to see his profile through his robes. He might as well be a skeleton wearing loose robes.

    -
    Sexuality ~ Matthias has given up on ever fathering children, or caring for a family of his own. Matthias is emaciated, sickly, and diseased. Any hope he could have had as the patriarch of a family was snatched away at birth.

    -
    Marital Status ~ Alone.

    -
    Occupation ~ He hopes to work in a shop of his own in one of the Holds as an alchemist, and a healer. Until then, he wanders the Holds of Skyrim, healing where he can, usually without magic, either with tinctures of alchemic sort, or with his knowledge of physical healing(he tries to practice physical healing, such as sewing up wounds whenever he gets the opportunity. It's a skill not widely practiced but he is convinced he is to be forever inept with Restoration, so It's the only way he seems to be able to heal others, in his mind.)

    (NOTE ~ Having a shop/home/shophome of his own would allow him to experiment privately with this...)
    -
    Residence ~ None. Currently wandering Skyrim. His attire that he MUST wear is typically worn by Necromancers fiddling with corpses, so he tends to travel in a cloak, and when he must sleep, he sleeps only in Inns, and never for long.

    -
    Family ~ His mother was a 'Lady of The Evening', and she abandoned him. Father? Never knew him. The closest thing Matthias has ever had to family was his former teacher.


    A frail boy, taken from the streets, saved from the cold fate that crept upon him in the cold alleyways of Daggerfall, he never knew much about warmth or the touch of another. That is, until he met her. Passing out due to exhaustion in the streets, he awoke some time later with a woman hanging over him, smiling. She was old, that much he could tell. Her hair was dark, but graying. Her eyes were dark, but upon seeing him wake, they lit up like day's sky, unclouded, and clear.

    She was an Alchemist(a good one, too), and an Apprentice of the school of Illusion. She tutored him for the years they shared. Within a decade, he was 18, and now himself a Journeyman in Alchemy, and a Novice in Illusion both. She had also taught him the basics of something she called 'Surgery', a term she used broadly, though it's meaning in the books she had let him read was quite specific. Alas, all good things must come to an end, and to that end, they did.

    She died a year after his 18th birthday, leaving him the small bit of money she had left, and what books she had on the various subjects she'd tutored him in over the years...
    -
    Affiliations ~ He is known in Skyrim by a few mages of The College of Winterhold, though only really because, while a few in the college seem to frown on Restoration in General, many openly mock 'Surgery' as archaic, and unnecessary, mainly due to Restoration. Messy is a word they would use. Other than that, he is not really known, though the guard do get jumpy around him due to the garb he wears.

    -
    Personal Relationships ~ N/A

    -
    Political Views ~ He largely doesn't mind the war, mostly due to the fact it presents many opportunities when it comes to practicing 'Surgery'. That, and he doesn't really like to get involved with matters such as these.

    -
    Religious Views ~ He doesn't really worship any of the Divines, after all, they 'blessed' him with a frail constitution. As for the Daedra, he curses Peryite with ever fibre of his being, mostly due to the fact that, with his weak constitution, he is very susceptible to disease, and what with Peryite being the Daedric Prince of such things, well...


    Let's just say it's convenient for him. He has something to hate for his condition.
    -
    Afflictions ~ Very weak physical constitution. It is surprising he has not caught any other major disease yet, as his work, when it is not focused on the mending of grievous physical wounds, is more focused on the prevention, and curing of diseases. I'm sure he'll catch something eventually. (I'll update this page in the future)


    He has also contracted some unknown condition that causes his skin to harden, crack, and bleed. He studies this condition constantly, but he does not know if it is contagious or not. For his own safety, and for others, he has encased himself in a waxed, semi-sealed suit, and mask. The condition causes him to bleed from the cracked skin, often even moving is painful for him, but he's learned to endure over the years. The condition is very painful, and requires the changing of bandages underneath his suit-robes and mask on a daily basis, for fear of infection. It does not seem to be easily curable by any magical or alchemical means.


    PHYSIOLOGY:

    Wispy is the word I would use. Matthias is 6'2, tall for a Breton, and very thin. Matthias is so thin, he is seemingly emaciated, not that anybody could tell at a glance through all that waxed fabric. His skin was once light, but where there was once smooth skin, there was now cracked, black, and bleeding flesh. He once had a head of blonde hair, but where there was a field of hair, like a field of fine wheat on his scalp, there was now the same cracked, black skin that had infested many other parts of his body. Due to the pain, his emaciated state, and his height, gravity seems to push him down, and without the strength to fight against it consistently, he remains slightly hunched to preserve what little energy he has for moving about without the aid of potions.

    His face itself was handsome at one time, now contorted, both cracked and distorted due to his affliction. The only real remnants of his beauty are his eyes, blue like aquamarine gems, though even their beauty has begun to fade. Fitting that the only part of him that is fit to look at is the only part of him that is visible through his suit, though even then...

    He has a cold stare.

    Voice ~ His voice is very quiet, though loud when it needs to be. When he speaks, you can tell that it is almost physically hurting him to move his lips. He sometimes stops mid-sentence, unexpectedly, only to continue a moment later. Oddly, whenever he speaks he adopts a pleasant tone, laughing often.

    Ref ~ Solaire of Astora

    PERSONALITY:

    After two decades of suffering frailty, disease, and mockery, he has adopted a pessimistic personality, with an optimistic tone. He enjoys mocking life, and sometimes others, depending on who they are. He prefers to surround himself with commoners of the middle class, rather than low lives, or the high born. The low lives abandoned him, and the high born often mock him due to his practices. Overall, though, he prefers to be alone, mainly due to contact with others causing him physical pain. He does enjoy a conversation every now and then, as he has educated himself on a variety of topics ranging from Disease, and Magic, to Alchemy, and History. He prefers to keep out of most incidents involving violence or other such things unless an opportunity presents itself, and he can practice his... practices.

    When angered, he usually just shuts off the person angering him completely. Ignoring them instead of pressing on in any sort of argument. Due to his condition, but also due to his nature, he has no real friends, only acquaintances.
    -
    Likes:

    • History
    • Alchemic Theorem
    • Practical Medicine
    • Sleeping (one of the only times he doesn't have to move)
    • Gardening
    • Scents (food, flowers, the cold etc.)
    Dislikes:
    • Snobby mages
    • The Upper Class
    • The Underworld (Criminal) (Thieves/Prostitutes)
    • Disease
    • Restoration (The only reason he doesn't like it, is he is inept with it, and can't get any better no matter the effort.)
    Alignment ~ True Neutral

    COMBAT DETAILS:

    Generally avoiding combat, Matthias still likes to carry various mixtures with him on the road. If pressed, he will use poisons, Illusion, and his medical tools to fight back against an aggressor. Usually he depends on cloaking/invisibility spells to sneak up on opponents, and hit them with potent poisons before disappearing and watching as they die from a distance.

    Class ~ Doctor


    Major Skills:
    • Alchemy
    • Illusion
    • Sneak
    Other Noteworthy Skills:
    • Herblore
    • Medicine
    • 'Surgery'
    • Historical Knowledge
    • Poison-Making
    Weapons ~ He usually relies on magic, and sneak, preferring not to get into combat. If pushed, he can use his medical tools. He carries a basic set on his person at all times.

    Gear:

    • Wax sealed suit, with fitting mask, and hat, as well as a cane to assist in movement over long distances.
    plaguedoctor.jpg
    • Basic Medical Kit.
    • Carrying bag containing many tomes, and other such reading material.
    • Medium-sized money pouch.
    • Belt, lined with many vials containing different potions, as well as a few pouches containing alchemical ingredients.

    HISTORY:

    I'd like to progress through the RP, and focus on the history at a later point. Perhaps writing it as RP goes on.
     
    Last edited:

    snoozy12

    New Member
    Aanon.gif *found on Google because I don't have the game on pc, had to edit the name out; just a vague representation of what he would look like as Kazi-dar

    Basic Information
    Name: Aanon (the name he gave himself)/Blight-Claw (the name given to him by Brynjolf)
    Alter-ego: Kazi-dar, the harmless Khajiit merchant. He often dons this identity and a Khajiit accent to make people feel less suspicious of him around towns. If they hear an Elswyr accent, they have less questions about where he's from. He normally has a Nordic accent because he was raised in Skyrim by Brynjolf.
    Age: 12 (Khajiit young adult basically)
    Race: Khajiit
    Birthsign: The Serpent
    Class: Thief
    Gender: Male
    Khajiit Breed: Suthay (unknown to him)

    Appearance
    Fur: Dark orange with a black tabby-style pattern
    Eyes: Yellow, wide pupils
    Hair: black, mohawk
    Build: Small, lithe frame
    Distinguishing features: a burn scar on his chest from when he snuck under the Honningbrew Meadery and met an unexpected mage.
    Tattoos: black dye under his eyes to make them seem more ominous in the shadows
    Piercings: three in left ear (two round rings, the bottom one is a string of beads filled with poisons for easy access); two in right ear (both hanging beads, filled with stamina and health potions); two dermal piercings in his collarbone, hidden by his fur (they both hold resist potions, which he can break in case of emergency); septum piercing
    Apparel: Generally prefers clothing with light armor hidden beneath for easy movement and disguise
    Jewelry: three rings (2 rings of stealth, 1 of enchantment and 1 of alchemy); necklace of lockpicking

    Gear
    Weapons: dual-wields daggers; has a bow for long range sneaking
    Magic: None
    Other: enchanted jewelry and hidden poisons (both explained above)

    Miscellaneous
    Personality: If not acting as Kazi-dar, he is jaded and sarcastic. He will take every opportunity to scam and/or trick you either for fun, or for the sake of distraction so he can take something from you. He is clever and always knows when it's time to run from a fight (and has no shame about it). He is generally distrustful, but will always be willing to partner with other people (mostly so he can manipulate or use them for something).
    - As Kazi-dar he will appear friendly and helpful, the kind of Khajiit that breaks stereotypes and is always looking for new, honest customers.

    Quirk: He takes and keeps journals that he finds in his travels, and writes his own because he has never known his family, or where they came from/who they were. He has never heard stories of his ancestors and never seen the sands of Elswyr. This makes him worry that he will never be known after his death, so he keeps a journal and cherishes the stories he picks up more than life itself.

    Goal: To be remembered. He works tirelessly to become powerful and influential in every new city.

    Religion: Nocturnal, the Daedric Prince

    Fighting Style: Dual-wielding daggers, usually using poison to slow or hinder his opponent. He tries not to kill in general unless the person he's fighting is intent on killing him as well; he prefers to incapacitate and keep moving toward his goal.

    Habits: gambling, stealing things he doesn't need

    Hobbies: gambling, stealing things he doesn't need, haggling, hoarding journals he finds in his travels and writing his own journals (he has about 5 of his own, since he started years ago)

    Likes: The thrill of burglary and pick-pocketing; Riften; Brynjolf and the Thieves Guild; journals; making fun of people; Black-Briar Mead; pulling off a tough heist without getting caught

    Dislikes: Solitude, Nords, Imperials, Bretons, Argonians, Dunmer, Altmer (especially Altmer), Bosmer, Orsimer, other Khajiit, magic (but is fine with enchantments; they're less unpredictable than that wickety-wackety stuff those damn sorcerers do); people that aren't him; getting caught and having to sneak out of jail

    Affiliation: Aanon was raised in the Thieves Guild by Brynjolf. He became good friends with many of the members and even trained some of them despite being younger, because of his lifestyle. His most prominent friend in the guild is Sapphire, with whom he makes plans to extort and trick newcomers to Riften.

    Properties: Since he is only a young adult by Khajiit standards, he owns only Honeyside and Lakeview Manor, though he plans on expanding that once he's older and has more experience and treasure. Right now, he spends the majority of his time in the Ratway but stores his treasured journals in Lakeview Manor, where he has a companion as his steward.

    In Riften, he uses Honeyside as a scam Inn for wealthy travelers, who will pay him twice the rate of The Bee and Barb, and thank him for it. He offers them "exclusive service" which is just him and Sapphire cooking and cleaning for the guests, while stealthily taking everything they bring of value.

    Titles: Thane of Whiterun, Thieves Guild Official Recruiter, Thieves Guild Unofficial Trainer, as an annoying nickname: Official Thieves Guild Pet

    Job: Scam artist/thief (but in general, whatever you think he does, it's that)

    Weaknesses: magic. He is wary of magic and magic-users, and when faced by them unprepared he will freeze or instantly go into hiding.

    Backstory:
    Aanon was barely a cub when Brynjolf found him while doing a Bedlam job in another city. The house had been raided already, and it appeared his parents had been killed by the intruders, who only seemed to have left him alive because they didn't know he was there. He took the Khajiit child back to Riften to see if the orphanage would take him, but he didn't like or trust Grelod the Kind after seeing the way she treated the human children there, so he raised Aanon as his own in the Thieves Guild.

    He did not, however, give him a name until Aanon showed his skills with mixing poisons, so before this the cub named himself something to play on being anonymous for the first years of his life. Because of this, he is only known as Blight-Claw to other members of the guild. He has been doing different thief jobs since he was 5 summers old, both due to his own ambition and his small stature.

    It was when he was 10 that he started to explore the world more, gaining more treasure and more journals, and more experience in both sarcasm and extortion. He has brought Sapphire on many of his excursions, and the two have proven to work well as a team, and though Brynjolf has teased him about an attraction to her Aanon has never felt anything but platonic feelings toward the woman. Eventually he developed the Kazi-dar identity because people kept asking questions about why a Khajiit had a Nord accent, and they were suspicious of him faster than when he became Kazi-dar.

    Aanon's Speech/Thought colour
    Kazi-dar's Speech/Thought colour
     

    Screeching Spasmodically

    Spasmodic Screecher
    Name: Kajira

    Race: Khajiit

    Sex: Female

    Class: Rogue/warrior

    Combat Preference: Khajira is an extremely acrobatic fighter, throwing rolls and leaps into her fighting style, sometimes using the enemy against themselves. Her main defence is not being where the enemy expects her to be. This allows her to leap into the thick of the fighting and come out the other side unharmed. She prefers to open the fight with her glaive, slashing and stabbing as she engages the enemy. Should the press of bodies become too close for her longer weapon, Kajira switches to the elven daggers, allowing for extremely close combat. If she should somehow lose those, she switches to her natural claws, shredding the unarmored flesh of the enemy.

    Appearance: Kajira is a slim, unassuming woman, with beige/cream coloured fur, and darker stripes starting at the corner of her eyes, and running to the back of her neck, and ending just before her shoulders. She has deep golden eyes, almost a bronze, and tufted, narrow ears. You wouldn't know it to look at her, but she is surprisingly strong, due to her years of combat experience. She stands at 5'5", and weighs around 100 lbs, soaking wet.

    Weapons: Her primary weapon is her glaive, which she wields two handed,and a pair of elven daggers she keeps strapped to her thighs.

    images.jpg

    Apparel: She wears cuir builli armour, allowing her to take some hits, before she is any real danger. However, the main reason she chose the leather is because of the mobility it gives her. Heavy plate and chainmail is well and good, but only if the wearer intends to take hits. Leather boots offer her feet some protection, as do her gauntlets. She refrains from using headwear, except in foul weather, when she covers herself in a hooded grey cloak.

    Personality: Kajira is an outgoing, friendly individual when not in the midst of a fight. She's eager to discover new things and meet new peoples, though her disregard for the law has gotten her in trouble from time to time. Despite her eager exterior, she is slow to trust, and not likely to forgive a betrayal. Often times, she comes across as naive, only to reveal a dangerous understanding of the motives of men and mer.

    Alignment: Chaotic neutral

    Backstory (work in progress): Born and raised in Elsweyr, Kajira didn't leave her home due to any trouble with the law, tragedy, or other such drama. She simply is afflicted with wanderlust. She has trouble staying in one place for more than a few weeks at a time. Since she was a young woman, she has traveled Tamriel, usually as a blade for hire. Her unique fighting style has built her a reputation with some people in several provinces. However, she is often in trouble with the law due to either misunderstandings, or her simple disregard for their customs. On the other hand, she is greatly sought after for her skillset. Once she's been paid for her services, she is on the road again, looking for her next adventure.
     

    Specter of Death

    Omnipresent Moderator
    Staff member
    REQUESTED DIALOGUE COLOUR

    (The art used in this CC are not 100% depictions of this character, but rather accurate ideas of what her visage is. Please keep this in mind while reading, and rely mainly on the descriptions and use the photos as reference points and imagery.)
    wanheda_by_ishved-d9ozy1f.jpg


    Maelin
    "She lives down in a ribcage within the dry leaves of a heart"

    -~~{ BASIC }~~-


    NAME: Maelin

    ALIAS: Lady Armelle is how she often introduces herself to strangers, as a lack of a surname is often looked down on

    AGE: 27

    BIRTH-DATE: 16 of Rain's Hand, 4E 174

    BIRTH-PLACE: Somewhere near Wayrest, High Rock

    GENDER: Female

    RACE/ORIGIN: Breton

    CLASS: Pure Mage | Scholar | Psychopath

    LATERALITY: Ambidextrous favouring her Right hand

    SEXUALITY: Asexual; she finds no attraction towards any person or gender, and in fact finds herself disgusted by most more often than anything

    RELATIONSHIP/MARITAL STATUS: Single

    FAMILY: None; orphaned at birth and the closest thing to family she has ever had is the Noble family she was sworn in service to; this is also why she has no family/surname

    PROPERTY: She owns a small home perched along the walls of Solitude, once belonging to the city's groundskeeper--a job that is no longer active [link]

    AFFILIATIONS: None; though she'll often lie about being a member of the Bard's College, and the Mage's College in Winterhold

    AFFLICTIONS:
    - Psychopathy: A disorder defined by its spectrum of many features and behaviours. It's mainly identified by an apparent lack of guilt, empathy and deep emotional attachments; narcissism and superficial charm; and impulsive and antisocial behaviours like dishonesty, manipulativeness and recklessness. Psychopathy is at risk for physical aggression, but it is not synonymous with it. More often than not psychopathic individuals are extremely rational and in touch with reality, such is the case with Maelin. More information on her Psychopathic behaviour can be found in the personality section of this CC.

    RELIGION: She worships no "god", but finds herself fascinated with their accumulation of power and worship--especially that of the many Daedric Princes

    fawn_holmwood_by_annahelme-dc7vys2.jpg


    -~~{ APPEARANCE }~~-

    HEIGHT: 5'5"

    WEIGHT: 138 lbs

    BUILD: Slim, Unassuming, Alluring, Prominent

    FACE: Inquisitive, Confident, Attractive

    EYES: Redish-Brown

    SKIN TONE: Pale-white, dotted with gentle freckles

    HAIRSTYLE: Wavy, cut just below the shoulder, usually worn tied back or in a loose braid

    HAIR COLOUR: Dark Red

    SCARS: None on her open skin large enough to be of note, though she has many across her back

    TATTOOS: She has the name "Armelle" tattooed in small red letters cutting perpendicular across her left wrist, close to the base of her palm and a small black "X" in the same position on her right wrist

    PIERCINGS: None

    3beffcf6379e064d941b3710374da2a0.png


    -~~{ PERSONALITY }~~-

    Maelin is a Psychopath. However, such a term brings to mind an idea that betrays the reality of what it actually means. One might assume that a psychopath has to be inherently violent, a killer, or perhaps a serial murderer or rapist. One may even believe psychopathy comes synonymous with sociopathy and sadism, but these things are far from mutually exclusive. However, they do often go hand in hand with each other, as those considered psychopaths may also be socially inept, and/or enjoy the pain of others. None of this is the case for Maelin though, she is rather plainly just a psychopath.

    This does not make her any less of a person, however, to her dismay. She's just much different than most all people, and in her mind superior in many ways. This opinion is something she keeps very deep within her mind, as to avoid any judgement or ill actions from those around her. She lacks any shred of empathy, as in her mind it serves her no proper purpose. It's a waste of her time and energy to try and understand and communicate feelings with others when the way she operates with logic is more efficient. She lacks the ability to sense remourse or guilt over anything she says and does, again because it would diminish her efficiency and logically wasting time analyzing and rethinking her actions is nothing but a waste of effort. On the topic of wasting her time and energy, she holds no room for close emotional attachments with anyone or anything. In her eyes, not only is it again wasteful, but a weakness somebody could potentially use against her.

    Previously it was said that she thinks of herself as a superior person to most of those around her, this narcissism is a telltale sign of what she is and so she masks it behind a charm and confidence that she has learned, in order to be attractive and alluring to all. She's mastered the ways of speaking and sounding like a perfectly likeable individual, one that people want to befriend and get close to. She knows how to speak to people and read them, what they think and feel, what they want and like. She knows how to give it to them, and appeal to their nature-potentially even use it to her advantage if she sees the need. When she paints them a picture of herself, it's using research, facts and experiences she has. Some of it is in the form of lies, some in the form of half truths. If one knows that she is telling lies, through knowledge and experiences of their own, she would continue to weave a web for herself until out of the spotlight of attention and speculation--or more simply just disappear and avoid further communication.

    She is, underneath all of this, rational and more often than not level-headed. Above all else, her intelligence is what sets her apart from the rest of the world, and what defines her as a Psychopath. She enjoys the manipulation of others because she is fascinated by the workings of the world and it's denizens and hopes to understand them. Manipulation is her way of exploring and researching such things. Why she has such a fascination she can only chalk up as a curiousity for understanding her differences from others. She wants to understand the minds of those who aren't like her, and perhaps even shape them and make them better. She's drawn to power, unique peoples, different cultures and experiences.

    Beneath all of this, deep down beneath it all, there is a fire that burns - if you could call it that. It burns for vengeance, and when it comes alive it's violent and destructive. It murders and tortures; dehumanizes and dissects. And she harnesses it when she needs to, when somebody deserves it and the situation calls for it. It's only come out twice in her lifetime, but it's trained and works for her rather than against her will. It doesn't come out because she wants it, or craves it though. Nor that she necessarily obsesses over it or plans it out. It comes out when necessary, like when doing business.

    Overall, it's a rather lonely and chronically bored life to live. One could say that with all of this manipulation and study of the human condition through others is everything but, however, she's always looking from the outside in. Behind a pane of glass, distant and soundless--doing her best to interpret what she sees from those around her without fully comprehending it all. There is no moral compass to guide her, only her logical idea of what is the best for her at the time. There is no connection of motivation for her outside of coming closer to being what she thinks "normal" is--even though her definition of normal could be miles off of what a regular person's definition is. Because of all this, if there were to be one feeling Maelin would ever even come close to feeling or understanding, it would be that of Melancholy.

    (This is rather cut and dry for an explanation of her personality, but for a charrie such as this, it's not an easy thing to describe. Did my very best here with this description, but her personality will show itself much more clear in the posts I crank out for her, so just keep that in mind!)

    TEMPER: Unpredictable but Even; she's always stable and rational on the surface at all times, but without warning, that could change on a dime without any difficulty--it's a tool to her, as the reactions of others towards her energy is something she can use to her advantage if need be.

    OUTLOOK: Pessimistic; the world is bleak, dark, evil and deadly--and she's a fairly large reason and contribution as to why. Fixing the world's unfixable problems is impossible, even the gods can't do it, so join in the unfixable.

    HONOR: Slim to none; respect is for those who operate with morality and empathy, she has none of that. The dead are dead, and the living are on their way to being dead-- honor is a temporary luxury and a waste of time, no person in the world has earned that from her.

    ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral; She cares for nobody but herself, nor does she remember caring for anybody but herself--though others may occasionally consider her as an evil-doer, nothing she does is with the intention of being malicious or ill-willed.

    POSITIVE TRAITS: Intelligent, Wise, Powerful, Strategic, Influential, Confident, Persuasive, Attractive, Alluring, Charming

    NEGATIVE TRAITS: Apathetic, Selfish, False, Dishonest, Antisocial, Impulsive, Manipulative, Reckless

    LIKES: Conflict, Nighttime, Masser and Segunda, Magicka, Literature, Artwork, Alcohol, Alchemy, Writing, Drawing and Painting, Culinary Arts, History

    DISLIKES: People, Authority, Do-gooders, Gods, Worship, Temples, Poor Manners, Imperfection, Those who waste her time, Manipulators, Recklessness

    FEARS: Little to nothing phases her, though she does feel anxiety when she's confronted about her falsehoods and true nature; as if she were to ever truly fear anything--she herself would be the only person or entity worthy of such a feeling.

    PHOBIAS: Phobias for Maelin aren't felt or experienced in any way the same as most other "normal" individuals. These phobias do not fill her with a sense of fear, instead they trigger a dramatic shift in emotion and demeanour. She will quickly see herself falling apart, becoming emotionally unstable and out of control of her actions--often along with the effects and symptoms of intense psychosis (auditory and visual hallucinations, irrational and delusional behaviour, extreme volatility towards herself and others, and finally suicidal and possibly homicidal thoughts). Regardless of how these phobias affect her differently than most, she avoids them staunchly, but casually--as to not draw any unwanted attention toward them.
    - Athazagoraphobia: The fear of being forgotten or ignored, and (more prominently for her) the fear of forgetting. Her mind is her greatest tool, her most powerful weapon, and her safest refuge; and while she wishes for it never to go unappreciated or celebrated by those she deems worthy of learning from it--if she were ever to forget the things she keeps within, it would be her greatest downfall. It has never happened, nor is she sure it ever will; however, from a very young age she was assaulted, beaten for and accused of being dim-witted, forgetful, clumsy, and of limited capacity.
    - Eisoptrophobia: The persistent and irrational fear of mirrors. Tied heavily to the Spectrophobia she also experiences, for as long as she can possibly remember, every time she has ever looked in a mirror at herself all she could ever see was imperfection and something she loathed, hated and disgusted her. She saw herself as everything she ever hated, used, and controlled and over time, she began to fear the monster she saw within herself--despite how invisible it was for everybody else.
    - Spectrophobia: The fear of one's own reflection. See "Eisoptrophobia".

    HABITS/QUIRKS: She enjoys meditation, if one could even call it that--for her it's merely retracing her experiences, recalling her memories and lessons, and reviewing all the knowledge she has attained in her lifetime. She tends to do this anytime she finds herself without the distraction of others, often whilst pacing or sipping wine and listening to an elegant tune.

    ASPIRATIONS/GOALS: She wants some kind of power and some kind of wealth. Not that of a Jarl or the head of a Noble house, no. She'd much rather prefer the power and wealth of a position much less public and more behind the scenes--like that of a vizier or advisor, perhaps even a court wizard. Pulling strings, and manipulating fates without any target or room for judgement towards her.

    bd12b4f1edc745b642a57909d43268c2.jpg


    -~~{ GEAR AND FIGHTING STYLE }~~-
    (the 2 images above and below are 98% akin to what I am imagining she'd be wearing apparel wise)

    Her clothing would be described as some informal combination of casual and elegant, aiming to portray a sense of dignity and worth without giving off an air of superiority or nobility. She always aims for comfort and is fairly good at attaining it in her attire, which allows her natural and inexplicable aura of confidence to shine through and exemplify her appearance. She prefers the comforting and neutral colours of earth tones such as greens and browns, as they compliment her figure well when in the form of flowing gowns. Dresses are her prefered choice of dress, and often the most common pick, though she is comfortable in the occasional trouser and doublet combination.

    HEAD: Nothing, outside of the occasional scarf to wrap her neck and overtop her head during harsh weather.

    OUTFIT: A comfortably fitting dress of decent quality, in the comforting tones of the forest, with a warm light jacked or sweater over top.

    WAIST: A simple leather belt in a colour able to accent that of her attire, perhaps with some ties for a hip bag or other miscellaneous items

    FEET: She prefers comfortable and elegant looking shoes, cut low on the foot just below the bones of her ankle--however the terrain of Skyrim and High Rock require boots of a much higher cut. Both of which she prefers in lighter leathers, hopefully matching that of her belt.

    EVERY DAY CARRY: Nothing really, outside of the occasional tome, parchment and quill. If she finds herself travelling, however, she will carry with her the obvious things necessary: clothes, toiletries and whatnot.

    WEAPONS: None, outside of her Magicka and Spells

    MAGICKA: Maelin refuses to pick only one school of magic to practice, and prefers to use all of them. With this, she has a variety of mastered spells at her disposal that she masterfully and strategically uses. The list is as follows:

    ~ Alteration: Candlelight, Magelight, Ebonyflesh, Detect Life, Detect Dead, Equilibrium

    ~ Conjuration: Soul Trap, Revenant, Conjure Flame Atronach, Conjure Ice Atronach, Conjure Storm Atronach

    ~ Destruction: Flames, Firebolt, Fireball, Ignite, Fire Cloak, Frostbite, Ice Spike, Freeze, Frost Cloak, Sparks, Lightning Bolt, Chain Lightning, Lightning Cloak

    ~ Illusion: Muffle, Frenzy, Rally, Pacify, Rout, Invisibility

    ~ Restoration: Greater Ward, Close Wounds, Heal Other, Heal Undead, Grand Healing, Stendar's Aura, Circle of Protection, Vampire's/Undead's Bane

    FIGHTING ABILITIES: She can be useful in almost every role of a group battle or even solo dual. Whether it be dealing damage from afar or up close, delivering cover or healing for fallen allies, or commanding the forces of those she's influenced or raised from beyond the shadow of death. Her preference if she were to pick one, however, is seeping herself into the minds of her opponents, using their thoughts against them; breaking their will, building their confidence, and harnessing their fears. She is fascinated with the thoughts and feelings of others and likes to experiment within them in many different ways.

    FIGHTING STYLE: Reliable support in both healing and kiting, formidable damage dealer from afar while only decent up close, master influencer over the tides of a battle for both those with and against her.

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    -~~{ HISTORY }~~-

    LINEAGE: Her parents aren't known to her, but she suspects that they were likely of Pure Breton heritage, with little to no racial diversity. Whether her family was of any particular nobility or impoverished influence is far beyond any of her understanding, however. The family she ended up in the service of, however, was of rather intermediate nobility--despite ironically being mixed within Nordic and Imperial bloodlines. The Armelle family is of no particular power in Wayrest, but they are still of Noble roots. They, however, were unlike most other Breton noble houses in that they were well versed in the ways of "charity and generosity" however false it may be. They took in a rather large handful of orphans into their name, but not for wanting of a larger family, rather, larger service staff. Afterall, why hire servants and handmaidens when you can give them your name as payment instead?

    BACKSTORY: I've been debating whether or not to include this information in the histories of my characters, or leave it out in order to allow my writing style to better develop their pasts via discovery writing in thier development during roleplay. For Maelin, I'm going to leave this alone for now, until I feel I have her past a little better fleshed out--as I want as much detail in her backstory as I have in the rest of her CC. Cheers!

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    -~~{ VOICE AND SCORE }~~-

    VOICE: Mild and Classy with an aura of Confidence, Power and Mystery subtly underneath it all

    VOICE REFERENCE: Cate Blanchett as Hela (without the evilness :p) [Reference Link]

    SCORE THEME: "Meloncholia" composed by Lucas King
    For myself, this song captures just how viduous Maelin's life is without emotions or "regular" human thinking. constantly peering in on ordinary life through a looking glass of logic and intelligence beyond normal comprehension. It does not present the air of falseness and performance she gives off to those around her, but rather what it's like for her on the inside while she's doing so. Trying so hard to apply the same logic and reason she does in everything in trying to mimic and understand the world around her--with no feedback that is truly reliable to her.

     

    Alexceratops

    New Member
    (i'm completely new to RP so I apologize for any mistakes, grammatical or to do with role-playing alike.)

    Name: Usynlig Ansatt (unseen worker)
    Gender: Male
    Race: Imperial
    Class: Hobby cycler/drunkard

    Looks: 5'10, short black hair, looks very confused 50% of the time, pale, friendly face, stubble.

    Personality: A hard working man that will do nearly anything for gold, spends most time drinking at various bars across Skyrim, no one knows how he makes time for it, never mind get there so fast. The kind of person to punch a Daedra for knocking over his bottle of mead. prefers to make friends and drink with said friends, rather than hunting dragons for fun, though he would probably punch one too if they knocked over his mead. Honestly doesn't care about the great war, as long as no one hits the mead bottle, NO ONE HITS THE MEAD BOTTLE.
    He has also developed an immunity to hangovers of alcohol poisoning, which is actually kinda impressive if you think about it.

    Behavior: 'A man of many hobbies and talents, can pick up archery one day, and then dungeon exploring the next! I even saw him in high Hrothgar telling the greybeards that "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hur-" and was swiftly shouted off of the throat of the world...' - Klimmek
    Usynlig is usually drunk and will usually be found in a bar, he may even come out of nowhere, from swimming in the sea of ghosts to debating with Sinderion in Backreach.

    Combat: if fighting when sober, Usynlig is usually completely useless and weak; though when drunk, he can dodge attacks rather easily and do some major damage, though since he is drunk, he has low-ish health and might fall asleep in the battlefield, which can be fatal is badly timed. Usynlig is surprisingly good at sneaking for a drunkard, mostly because he uses it so much to get to places he needs to be and surprise any enemies on the way.

    Misc: Usynlig will use nearly anything he can find as a weapon, though he sometimes buys equipment from blacksmiths, if not stealing it. He seems to have an interest in the crossbow and likes to carry his own crossbow on his back, this is a rather high-quality crossbow that he calls "Korrekt" or "Kor" for short, he has enchanted Kor to be extremely easy to reload, so if he doesn't hit the target on the first shot, he will most likely hit it at least once the next 7 times he shoots. He is not the most accurate person in the world, since he usually uses it when drunk, but really, he can do some serious damage if lucky. He usually doesn't wear much armour since he likes to be very quick, but he will wear some if required.

    my first attempt at RP
    since there isn't a picture, just think of brenuin with pale skin and short, black hair and a stubble.
     

    Kabel

    Member
    (The art used in this CC are not 100% depictions of this character, but rather accurate ideas of what his visage is. Please keep this in mind while reading, and rely mainly on the descriptions in his CC and use the photos as reference points and imagery.)

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    JULIEK VRBADA
    devcww.png

    Male, Breton // 28 // 15th Morning Star

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    Original photo: Jarad Vincent
    Appearance:
    Height: 6’0’’

    Weight: Approx 226lbs

    Build: Solid, muscular and slightly defined.

    Eyes: Dark umber brown.

    Skin: Slightly leathery, ivory coloured skin.

    Hair: Shaved, starting to recede.

    Facial Hair: Full thick, chest-length.

    Hair Colour: Dark chestnut.

    Defining Feature(s): A single deep scar spanning from his left ear to the corner of his mouth.

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    Fig 1: The scar


    Personality:
    Temper: Fairly mild-mannered due to frequent self-reflection, but has been known to lose it… To varying results.

    Outlook: Pessimistically optimistic. Depends on the day, but is to be expected given his somewhat sheltered life.

    Positive Traits: Passionate, loyal, ambitious, optimistic, curious, well-read.

    Negative Traits: Can be cold, pessimistic, reserved, impatient, grumpy, suspicious.

    Likes: Animals, Dwarven architecture, ale, quality finery, self-reflection, travel.

    Dislikes: Oppression, Thalmor, sexism, incompetence, disloyalty, braggarts.

    Fears: Poverty, being buried alive.

    Aspirations/Goals: To uncover the ancient secrets of the Dwemer & eradicate vampires.


    Gear & Fighting Style:


    Overview: Boiled lightweight leathers concealed by robes with an off-emerald cloth wrapped around his waist, which is adorned by Daedric lettering.

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    Fig 2: Daedric adorned cloth

    Everyday Carry: He carries a sentimental glass dagger, two small coin purses attached to his belt, a map of Skyrim, a magic scroll, a backpack with various bits and pieces such as a waterskin, alchemical ingredients, a bedroll and furs.

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    Fig 3: Everyday carry

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    Fig 4: Conjuration spell

    Weapons: A glass dagger, which is rarely used in combat. A conjured bow, a conjured dagger and apprentice to adept level frost spells.

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    Fig 5: Conjured bow
     

    Deadpool.

    OG Forum member
    NAME: Wilheim
    CLASS: Knight/Cleric/Sorcery
    RACE: Non-Nordic/White Other
    ALIGNMENT: Sunlight Warriors
    HOBBY: Drinking Estus for good health and praising the sun

    Looks: 6 foot 5 inches, blonde bowl cut hair, sharp features, muscular.

    Rings:
    Ring for fast stamina regeneration, A ring for increased carrying capacity and HP, a ring that increases magic damage and a ring that increases lightening damage

    Consumables:
    Estus flasks (for health regeneration), souls as currency, a talisman that prevents health regeneration when thrown at someone, a powder that when out on a weapon gives it the ability to give lightening damage.

    Magic used:
    Crystal magic weapon (applies sharp crystalline shards and gives the weapon an ability to do extra bleed and magic damage), great crystal spear (a spell that produces a crystalline projectile that does magic damage), sunlight spear (a thrown bolt of thunder)

    Weapons/shields:
    Manslayer- a 4 foot katana, wielded in an Eastern fashion, has bleed damage
    Aged Smelter sword- a HUGE greatsword, with a demonic look; it has a fiery blue glow that does magic damage
    Smelter Sword- the aged smelter sword but with a fiery glow, does fire damage
    Sunlight shield- a round shield that is good for parrying, and has the symbol of the sun

    Armour:
    Armour of the sun
    Helm of the sun
    Gauntlets of the sun
    leggings of the sun

    Lore:
    Long ago in lands far from Skyrim, Wilheim lived a life as a warrior of sunlight, he was a family man with a wife and two kids. Unfortunately something started happening to people, spreading over time like a disease. A black ring appeared on the back of Wilheim, it was the mark of the curse. The bearer of the curse would forget everything- their family, their ambitions when hollowed, roaming the earth as an undead, searching for souls to keep themselves going. Wilheim set off on a journey to the kingdom of Drangeic. Keeping his allegiance to the covenant of sunlight warriors and fought on to keep himself from going completely hollow, keeping his memories of family and ambition. Wilheim fought many demons and other undead for his weapons. But never gave up his uniform and allegiance to his covenant. One day he decided to slumber by a birds nest that had bought him to a far away land. He walked for weeks before finding a settlement- riften, famished for food and seeking guidance he came to the inn.
     

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    Name: Ignisiel Ferdona
    Race: Nord/Dark Elf
    Age: 28
    Height/Weight: 5’9/202 lbs
    Class: Assassin (Mage/Thief)

    Appearance: A tall, slim-but-muscular, charcoal colored man. Short hair, stands up in the front with short, thick beard. Inner iris is red, the outside iris blue, mixing for a ring of purple. A piece of the left ear the size of a nickel missing (from an arrow and covered with a red mage hood). Wears a leather cuirass and pants with leather boots. Silver rings and necklace accompanying his figure. When being the sneaky man he is, he equips a dragon priest mask.

    Personality: A Silver-Tongued charmer. Soft spot for women and children. Will not tolerate any form of abuse, will become violent. Though he has a flirty front, he is always looking and analyzing everyone and everything.

    Abilities: Uses mainly an ancient Nordic Bow, enchanted with fear. The bow was passed down by the patriarch of the Ferdona’s (a dark elf clan). His destruction magic abilities allow for him to lay down rune mines. Illusion magic renders him invisible, as well as allowing people to be deceived by false images. A dragon priest mask boosts his destruction magic.

    Summary: Ignisiel Ferdona is the child of Asba Ferdona (Third Son of the Ferdona clan) and Juline Bearlow (Recently deseased resident of Falkreath). As the Ferdona family has banned the relation between Dark Elves and any other race, Ignisiel was sentenced to exile at age 6.

    Before the exile, Asba told him of his mother; a strong, hardy women from Falkreath. After his birth, the house they had was set on fire. The wicked deed done by the patriarch of the Ferdonas. Juline did not survive the fire, and his father was sentenced to death not long after.

    Ignisiel, new to the wilderness, stumbled through the plains, fell down mountains, and chased by animals. Hate for his family had taken his heart captive. After 5 years of living in the wild, he grew accustomed to the environment. Eating berries, killing small game, and stealing from weary travelers.

    3 AM, Ignisiel witnessed a woman dressed in black, riding a horse as black and wicked as night. He followed her back to a door, ominous and silent. As he approached the door, it asked him a question.

    “What is the music of life?”

    Confused, he stares at the door. He stares for hours, trying to think of an answer. The door opens, standing behind was the same woman he had seen riding by. As his conscience fades, she whispers:

    “Do you have a wish? A wish that a life would be taken from someone who has wronged you? Do not wish, but act. The Night Mother awaits...”

    A small window in the storage room opens. A slender figure slips in. Sneaking through the estate, not making a sound, the figure reaches the room he had been searching for. Opening the door, a man lay asleep in a grand bed. A faint red glow emits from the bow laying next to the sleeping man. A dagger is raised, point dripping with hate and murderous thoughts.

    “Good bye, Patriarch...”
     
    Name: Fa’sien
    Age: 69
    Race: Khajiit
    Height: 6’7”
    Weight: 260
    Class: spell sword

    Looks: he has white fur mottled with black and brown, he has massive scars on the left side of his face from numerous battles during the Great War, which caused him to lose his left eye. He is extremely tall and bulky for his race, at 6’7 he towers over most of his family in Elsweyr; and while weighing in at 260, he is anything but fat, his shear size commands attention when he enters a room. Even for being as large as he is, he is every bit as graceful, nimble, and silent as just about every other member of his race.

    Personality: while there is still animosity toward the Aldmeri Dominion, he stays generally positive. The white gold concordance left a very bitter taste in his mouth, as well as being treated like a criminal after it was signed, causing him to migrate to the uncomfortable climes of Skyrim. While still pining for the much warmer sands of Elsweyr, he has come to enjoy the odd customs of the local nords, as well as all of the mischief of the region in general.

    Fighting Style: Fa’sien has developed his own highly unorthodox( and in some circles, frowned upon) yet overtly effective style of combat, combining both destructive magic and sword play. He started showing an affinity and skill for magic at a young age, and chose to hone the talent while still showing great skill with blades, and there by combined both skills into a beautiful, yet extremely deadly, and wholly unique style.
     
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    AndrewTEM

    Member
    Name: Qa'bil
    Age: Unknown
    Sex: Male
    Race: Khajiit
    Class: Unknown (Freelancer)

    Appearance: Although he is often seen with a mask or helm covering all but his eyes, he has pale white fur with pitch black war paint covering the entire left side of his face. Average build and weight, with pale blue slit-eyes and a battle scar crossing over his left eye, however it is unharmed.

    Personality: Qa'bil is generally known to not speak often, but he still tries to be a loyal and valuable asset when it comes to combat, whether it be with defence of offense. However when he does fight, his style, weapon, and even armour choices can switch constantly, from sneaky and far ranged with light armour, to up close and personal combat with heavy and hard armour.

    Backstory: There is no way of telling who he was or what he did in his past, all that can be relied on is the rumours of the random townsfolk...
     
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    Stone99

    New Member
    Name: Hamelyn Swet

    Race: Breton

    Class: Conjurer/Cultist

    Gender: Male

    Age: Around 30, from his appearance.

    Looks: 5'10", sort of scrawny, with pale skin and short, dark hair along with a trimmed beard. Blue eyes with more bags underneath them than Sanguine has realms in Oblivion. Typical cultish, evil-acolyte-prepping-a-sacrifice attire.
    Ham_Skyrim.jpg
    Personality: Ham is rather flighty, having joined up with and subsequently abandoned several dark cabals over the years. Somehow, no survivors from any of those groups are ever found to tell about him, and if asked about his involvement in that sort of thing he will vehemently deny it. He tends to be standoffish and mostly sticks to plain, simple and polite answers to questions, although the tone of his voice can be best described as 'perpetually done.' He tries to avoid large cities if at all possible, and exists in a nearly permanent state of homelessness. He can be easily swayed into service by threats from large groups or just larger opponents, but will generally try to weasel his way out of unwanted tasks at the first opportunity. The exception to the rule are jobs and relationships that end with him gaining more magical knowledge. He also absolutely hates being called "Ham."

    Gear: A simple wooden staff for summoning fire, a basic steel dagger for cutting things, two sets of robes (in all black, of course), a thick cloak for those cold Skyrim nights, a large pack to hold food and haul a small tent, basic grooming supplies, various scrolls and soul gems, and four leather-bound books whose covers have been painted over along with ink and a quill.

    Magic: Ham proficient in enchanting and manipulating souls trapped in soul gems, although he rarely has an adequate workstation, and can conjure up lesser Daedra such as atronachs, scamps, and clanfear without much trouble. He knows a bit of destruction and is passable at wards, but mostly relies on his staff to defend himself given the draining nature of summoning up minions.

    -Ham is a lycanthrope, having contracted the disease as a teenager.
    -Ham does not like being a lycanthrope at all.
    -Ham is a follower of Hermaeus Mora, seeking knowledge in order to overcome his fuzzier side without having to contact Hircine and risk insulting the Lord of the Hunt. Plus, forbidden knowledge is the best kind.
    -Ham makes his living selling basic scrolls and enchantments to those he meets on his travels (when not employed by some cave-dwelling group of dark magicians, that is).
    -Ham has long since enchanted his pack with a basic homing spell, allowing him sense where his belongings are in case he were to lose them.
     
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    Billiam

    New Member
    Name: Bilkor
    Race: Nord
    Age: 21
    Class: Warrior/Rogue

    Looks: 5' 8", short dark brown hair with a dark brown beard with hints of ginger on the chin mostly. His stature is a mixture of fat and muscle, good build for fighting although may struggle in long lasting combat situations. He has blue eyes, however his sockets are surrounded with dark rings making look like he's constantly fatigued.

    Backstory: found by a traveling group of Argonians, he has little memory of his childhood before. His camp was ravaged by Bandits while he and his Argonian friend, Ushesi. Both of them would spend years together clearing Bandit camps and fighting off any dangerous they would find in the wild. They overheard a potential gold-making job that an innkeeper had passed out. They thought they could use the money to move out of Skyrim and into safer lands. Sadly Ushesi didn't make it out of the hold, and Bilkor was lucky to survive. This led him on a dark and lonely path.

    Personality: tends to stick by himself after an accident that happened to his best friend and travel mate. He has a rough exterior, ignoring most people around him. Almost like he's in a dark daze when in groups. Will often try to stay out of trouble and groups unless he has no further options. He will often be seen alone at a local inn or walking the wild.

    Gear: steel armour chest piece, braces and boots, he carries an Orcish sword, Iron dagger, mixture of basic foods and drink.
     

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