Appearance:
Name: Thorin Whitemane.
Age: 54
Race: Nord.
Weapon: Custom One-Handed Sword, the last work of the late Greymane Mastersmith. The blade is simply called "Silveback". It's custom features is that it can never break. It looks like your typical Steel Long-sword, only with runes inscribed into it. The bottom of it's handle, there's a skull that has been dipped in silver, before attached to the handle.
Skills:
Swordsman: Skilled in swordplay, one of the greatest bladesarms in the land, his skills with the blade is well renowned.
Hunter: A very skilled tracker, Vast knowledge of the wildlife of Skyrim, as well as off the monsters in it. An accomplished archer, dislikes Crossbows.
Speech: Not so mcuh as that he can talk his way out of anything, as he's a master at telling stories.
Mead-drinker: Probably the strongest liver in all of Tamriel.
Equipment: Usually, he's not wearing a whole lot. A ragged shirt, a pair of equally thorn pants, a pair of fur boots.
However, his battle-gear hold of a hybrid of Steel and Dragonbones. The Breastplate is of this mixed material, he wears a chainmail-hood on his bald head during battle. Under his Breastplate, there's Chainmail that sits tightly on his well built frame. Under it, directly on his skin, there's a set of comfortable Fur, to keep the cold away. Still, his arms are always without much protection, showing off his various War-painting.
Job/Profession: Town-Drunk. Occasionally he teaches some poor soul some swordplay.
Strengths/weaknesses:
Experience, epic fights in his past.
Life behind him, he's a good teacher.
Tactician.
Old Age, his left knee is weakened because of battle with a giant.
Bad Temper.
Little Patience.
Background: -I'll write this tomorrow, I'm tired.-
Other:
I'll add Background and tone it up tomorrow, I have a seirous headache and writers block atm .__.



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