Kiin Do Fin Dovahkiin

[julia]

Please note that this is not a real Skyrim song, but a Celtic Woman song.

KIIN DO FIN DOVAHKIIN
Children of the Dragonborn


"For the Dovahkiin!" they shouted, lifting their goblets to the sky. It was the eve of Dragonborn's Moon, a week dedicated to the Dragonborn, who had slain the evil Alduin and saved all of Skyrim, had brought peace between the Empire and the Stormcloaks, and was never too high and mighty to help a child. For this, they revered him and every year, on the 5th of Second Seed, all of his followers would gather in Whiterun for a festival held in his name. On the eve of the Feast, a select few of Skyrim's warriors would be blessed before traveling north to slay one of the dragons that still preside there.

These warriors were chosen at birth, for various reasons, by the Jarls of their cities. The warriors must be within 6 months of one another in birth. At the age of 13, the children were taken to the Castle Dour to train with the Imperial Legion, regardless of their families' feelings towards the Legion. Once they reached the age of 16, they are sent to a fort directly between Solitude and Whiterun, where they will live until death. When the new warriors are of 24 years, they will replace the previous group as the Eve's Marchers, or the warriors who are sent north.

On the eve of the Feast, the Marchers are blessed by the High King and a priest of each of the Ten Divines. They are each given a choice of an amulet. After choosing an amulet, the Marcher must bow and pray to the Shrine of Dovahkiin. The warriors are then given a leisurely night, waited on hand and foot. The following morning, the entire town wakes before dawn to see the warriors off. As they leave Whiterun, they are revered as Children of the Dragonborn, whether they return or not.

You were chosen at birth by the Jarl of your city. It does not matter your race, nor your gender or wealth. There are two chosen from every city in Skyrim, and this is the year that you and your fellow Marchers will be sent to slay a dragon in the name of the Dragonborn. You are a child of him now, and that is a huge responsibility. Do you think you can handle it?

Name:
Age: 24
Race: (Nord, Imperial, Orc/Kahjiit etc)
Appearance: (Picture or description is fine)
Personality:
Short Bio:
Is your character related to a canon? If so, who?: (These must be accepted by me. If you want Lydia to be your great great aunt, you gotta run it by me)
City of birth:
Weaponry and Armor: (within reason)
Theme Song: (optional)
Other:

*The game is rated M, and this will be too. Of course, keep within standard rules of the guild, but don't be scared by blood, gore, language, and the like.
*Be cordial to one another in the OoC. Keep the drama in the IC, please.
*You know the standards of every RP. No god-mod, auto-hit, OP etc.
*Make sure all romance, violence, and connections are mutual between all players.
*Romance is indeed allowed.
*Do not control an NCP that someone was using in the last post. Like children with toys, you have to wait your turn, and when you set it down, its someone else's to take.
*WRITE AT LEAST 2 PARAGRAPHS
*Questions? Ask me!

"Brave" Svein Dark Creek - Falkreath

"Icy" Isa Kalen - Riften

Bjorn "Bigger Hammer" the Wolf-Born - Whiterun

Salms "Too Drunk, Too Sexy" Savil - Windhelm

"Hottie the Highborn" Almara - Winterhold

"Drop Dead Dangerous" Silana Amatius - Solitude

"King's Pet" Alexandria Revus - Solitude

"Hit or Miss" Karn Gro-Urabrask - Markarth

"Dare You Enter My Magical Realm" Bad Luck Rincewind - Markarth

Mienlyn - Dawnstar

LINK TO IC

[OlNoSoul]

Windhelm here!

[julia]

Name: Svein Dark-Creek
Age: 24
Race: Nord/Imperial
Appearance:

Personality: Svein is a quiet, although sweet and loyal guy who is very charming when he wants to be.
Short Bio: TBA
Is your character related to a canon? If so, who?: Great great grandson of the Dragonborn
City of birth: Falkreath
Weaponry and Armor: Ebony set with no helmet. Who needs helmets?
Theme Song: Legend
Other:

[Just Avery]

Name:Isa Kalen

Age:24

Race: Breton/Nord

Personality: Isa is reserved, she prefers not to talk about herself but enjoys listening to tales of places far away. She prefers to spar with words rather than weapons. Despite her brief training at the Temple of Mara in Riften she doesn't frown upon crude jokes which comes as a shock to most people, and can make a few good ones herself. She holds things people gift to her very highly, and will most likely cherish them the rest of her life.

Short Bio: Isa was born in Riften, and raised by her mother. The only thing Isa actually knows about her father is that he was a Nord. It wasn't odd for her mother not to know who her father was as she did get around a bit back in the day. Despite her mother working long nights at the Tavern in order for them to make a measly living Isa never felt the need to try to move up in the world. Her mother however didn't want Isa ending up like her, so she pushed Isa into going into training to be a priestess of Mara. It didn't go over well at first, but Isa did learn a few simple restoration spells, before she was kicked out, supposedly the reason was that she wasn't accepting Mara into her heart, but it probably didn't help to throw a plate at the Head Priest.
It wasn't long after that, on her thirteenth birthday she was forcefully torn away from her mother to start her 'new' life in Solitude. Since she had already taken on some training in restoration magic, it was seen fit that she continued that practice. However, she refused to stop at just restoration magic, she insisted on being trained in destruction magic as well, her specialty being Frost Spells.

City of birth:Riften

Weaponry and Armor: Isa always makes a point to wear her black cloak, that her mother gave her, and in cold weather she wears a green shawl that a traveling priest gifted to her once. Her robes were handmade by her, and don't offer much when it comes to a real fight. She does own an iron sword in case she has to engage in hand to hand combat, but she isn't trained in it.

Theme Song:Luna

Other: Her speciality in Frost Spells comes from being half-nord, and she learned most of her crude jokes by listening through the floorboard of the inn where here mother worked. Despite her nord blood, Isa gets intoxicated very fast, one bottle of a weak ale is enough for her to start using her magic, in ways it wasn't meant to be used.

[julia]

Go for it!

[sandman9913]

Name: Bjorn the Wolf-Born

Age: 24

Race: Nord

Appearance: Without the Armor and Weaponry, of course.

Personality: Bjorn is an overtly warm and calming individual and is usually a jolly person to be around, he is often one of the first to be the one to burst into song and recount tales of the ancient Nordic heroes. He is, by all accounts and purposes, a Nord's Nord. However, under this thick overcoat, lies a warrior whose raged is only matched by his brute strength. He is an absolute terror on the field of battle, and when enraged he holds little regard for his comrades, let alone his enemies. You have been warned.

Short Bio: Bjorn was born in Whiterun, a very progressive and stable hold, in comparison to some of the more traditionalist holds, such as Windhlem or Dawnstar. Growing up in such a multicultural environment, Bjorn came to appreciate the stories told by his Grandpa Olfrid of the Great War and of the sermons in the Temple of Kynareth. As he went from childhood to teenagerdom, Bjorn would remain at least partially ignorant of his fate as a Marcher. He had heard this whisperings about the town, however he paid no heed to them. When he reached the ripe-old age of thirteen, he was escorted by the Whiterun city guard from the Battle-Born Clan House, accompanied by his Uncle Idolaf in the dead of night to Dragonsreach. It was on this night, the night of his thirteenth birth, that he was informed of his fate as a marcher. Bjorn would no longer be living in Whiterun. He was to be something greater. He was then shipped off to Solitude, never to see his family again for eleven years.

For three years he trained in Castle Dour with the Legion, learning wilderness survival skills, how to utilize blades, the importance of heavy and light armor, strategy and tactics, as well as stealth skills. He grew close with some of the children in Solitude, particularly Lucius, a young Imperial Noble. However, his time here was much to short in comparison to the amount of time that lay ahead of him. Indeed, after three years he had to cut ties with some relatively close friends to move on with the other Marchers to Fort Drott Blod, a decent sized Imperial Fort in-between the cities of Solitude and Whiterun. He enjoyed his lengthy stay there, at least for the most part. He was disciplined regularly thanks to his wonderful ability to be able to somehow always end up in the tavern in a village just outside of the Fort, where the soldiers families usually resided. Eight years he spent there, honing his skills and drinking with the Legionnaires regularly. However, he has no returned to Whiterun...it has been eleven years...now it is time to get re-situated to what was once his home. Bjorn has much work to do in the one night before he and his fellow Marchers go off to slay the Dragon.

Is your character related to a canon? If so, who?: Bjorn is a relative of the Battle-Born Clan.

City of birth: Whiterun

Weapons and Armour: Bjorn is equipped with a set of Steel armor, his boots and gauntlets of the finest Nordic make, however he does not wear a helmet. Ever. His theory behind it is "If someone wants to kill me, they can do it with a quick clean blow to the skull.", in addition he has a sacred Battle-Born family heirloom amulet, given to him by his Uncle Idolaf before he went off to Castle Dour. In the weapons department, Bjorn wields a steel war-hammer, often utilizing the spiked back end to puncture the armor of his enemies in combat. For more silent endeavors, Bjorn carries a smaller steel hammer. Why? Because to Bjorn, stealth means 'Just...use a smaller hammer. That way, they wont know if you intend to crush their skulls, or build a house.'

Theme Song: There we go.

Other: Bjorn is a rather strong individual, and he really lacks finesse when he uses his hammer. Usually, he doesn't use any particularly crafty technique to slay anything. It's usually just him killing things out of sheer brute strength. Oh, and his eyes are a pal-greyish color.

[OlNoSoul]

Name: Salms Savil

Age: 24

Race: Dunmer

Appearance:

Spoiler

Personality: Being a bard takes a certain level of charm to woo the crowds and, much more importantly, the women. Salm, being a bard, is naturally loaded with this charm. Salm has always been a good kid and a good man, never going out of his way to harm another lest it was needed. He's always prone to crack a joke whenever the mood gets too heavy for everyone around him and considers himself a gentleman when in the presence of women. When all is said and done, Salm is quite the lovable but hopeless romantic, able to count his escapades on both of his hands- not a lot for a bard.

Short Bio: After the treaty between the Stormcloaks and the Imperials, the Grey Quarter was renamed the Snow Quarter as it once was, and Dunmer were given fair treatment, at least legally so. Content with life in Windhelm, Salms's parents lived in relative harmony with the Nords, seeing as Salms's father was a good enough warrior to earn some semblance of respect from those Nords. Salms's parents had immigrated to Skyrim from Solstheim after his father had left the Morag Tong behind with no ill will towards him and the organization. They settled in Windhelm shortly after the Stormcloak Rebellion reached its climax. As such, they were confined to what was then the Grey Quarter, living out lives of complacency within the discriminating grasp of the Nords. When the conflict came to a head, Salms was born. Salms's parents were overjoyed at the birth of their son.

It also came with somewhat of a mixture of joy, surprise and a bit of sorrow that Brunwulf Free-Winter choose the Dunmer infant to carry on the name of the predominantly Nord populated Windhelm, perhaps the most historically important to the Nords. Some met this choice with cries of outrage, some Nords drank in the boy's name and the Dunmer celebrated that they seemed to finally be accepted as true citizens of Windhelm and maybe now an equal to the rough and tough Nords. Salms was sent off to Castle Dour to train with the Legion but not without valuable lessons in the basics by his father. By the time he got to Castle Dour, he was already prepared for some of the training that he would be put through with the Legion.

He made friends with a skald at the local tavern who taught him how to play the lute, dulcimer, and flute, offering free lessons to the young warrior in return for the good comapny the Dunmer gave him and the rest of the patrons in the tavern. Long hours in the tavern, despite him being underage but the owner not caring, taught him a lot of dirty jokes. By the time he was 24, he was well-versed in the songs both romantic and bawdy, and knew the punchline to almost any dirty joke any patron could deliver. He values his comrades at Castle Dour which had endured the long years of training with him and counts them among his closest companions. When they finally left for the fort, Salms was one of the first to find out where the village tavern was located and didn't hesitate a second to pluck a few strings on his Dulcimer or lute. When he reached an older age, he began to seek after the women of the village, taking care to not pick one with a Ring of Matrimony upon their fingers.

Among the few friends he has outside of his group of fellow adventurers are a few legionnaires and the Castle Smith. As gifts of friendship and camaraderie, the bard who taught him how to play the lute, dulcimer, and flute propose that he give the young Dunmer his own flute and lute while the Smith forged him weapons, knowing full well that the Dunmer and his companions could never return form their quest. Sending it across the sea to the docks of Windhelm, where Salms found himself once again, he received the gifts with possibly the only tears he had shed since he was but a child- albeit, happy ones. Shortly after this, donned on him the realization that he may never actually return. Because of this, he views his role in the tradition of Skyrim as a sullen one, and is conflicted between accompanying his close comrades or not taking the risk of being cooked in his armor by Dragon's Breath.

City of birth: Windhelm

Weaponry and Armor: Chitin armor(sans shield), payed a merchant headed for Solstheim to get it to him on his return. A sword and long dagger, made for him by the castle's smith. Lute is enchanted to cast Call to Arms on the party or Fear on enemies.

Theme Song: It reminds him of his homeland and is often caught playing it on the lute or dulcimer.

Spoiler

[TolarianDrake]

winterhold please! and whats up soul.
Name: Almara
Age: 24
Race: Altmer
Appearance:

Personality: If you aren't an elf, Almara would tell you to your face that she is completely ok with you, but behind your back is a different story. She was always upset that she was born in skyrim rather than the homeland she had heard about so many times. With the thalmor still alive and well she had somewhat gained a racist stance of the nord population, especially after hearing many stories of Ulfric Stormcloak and how easily he persuaded so many nords to "hate" all elven kind regardless of individual history or allegiance. An to add insult to injury, she had dreamed of joining her mother at the college, but taken away for another as she would describe behind closed doors, "Another stupid nord tradition." Her voice sounds like Elenwyn both smoother like serana.

Short Bio: Almara's mother, Feralda, Is a prominent teacher at the college of winterhold during the civil war and subsequent battle for skyrims future from the dragons. As she had aided the dragonborn on more than one occasion it wasn't a hard choice for her daughter to be taken in this prestigious role in life. Before she was taken, many at the college wondered if being near the eye of magnus had somehow imprinted magicka upon her as she radiated quite a bit more magicka than most higher echelon altmer.

City of birth: Winterhold
Weaponry and Armor: Thin, cat suit like leather armor, Fur coat, usually only wears her hood during bad storms. A superior crafted Elven dagger, purchased from a merchant to remind her of Altmer culture. She also knows multiple powerful destruction spells but really specializes in conjuration and restoration spells.
Other: Being born with high magicka grants incredible staying and stopping power in combat but has taken its toll on her mind, her anger and prejudice being only the earliest mental issues generated from it. Luckily for her, no one has seemed to notice yet. Text color will be Violet

[julia]

Everyone looks good so far. I'll update the first post tomorrow

[OlNoSoul]

winterhold please! and whats up soul.

Oh, hey, man! Wish you would've stuck around for VotD, but, hey, your call.