Name: Tagorn
Race: Bosmer, Montalion Vampire
Gender: Male
Age: 346 (claims to be 98)
Birthsign: The Serpent
Appearance: Tagorn is about 5'5 but has a very muscular build for his size. His hair is a deep crimson red and runs down to his shoulders. His skin is a pale grey color, allowing him to pass as a Dunmer in some cases. His eyes are a dark gold color but seem to change to bronze in fire light.
Equipment: A set of light leather armor with the sign of his former raider group on the right shoulder, which is a white skull with a black serpent twisting around it. A ivory bow and arrows, a ebony cross bow, a leather hood and mask that he uses to cover his face, an amulet of Molag Bal, and a metal flask he keeps hidden in his boot filled with a 'unknown' liquid.
Skills: Acrobatics, Athletics, Hand to Hand, Marksman, Sneak
Personality: Tagorn isn't the moody guy that kills life in the room nor is he the life of the party, he is the person in the corner of the room that no one takes an interest in and he wouldn't have it any other way. He prides himself on his obscurity, but not out loud of course. His many years of life have taught him how to put on a good show when he does find himself needing to talk. When he does speak he puts on the air of a cocky sharpshooter, even clamming to be the best shoot in all of Valenwood, that would fit quite well in a tavern or ship full of pirates, but just under the surface lies his true nature that of a monster. Like most of his kind Tagorn has a burning thirst, though not for blood, but for death it self. He craves vicious battles were he has the chance to tear through enemies. He has respect for the strong, even his foes, and pities the weak seeing no real point in their lives.
Background: Tagorn was born to a hunting family in Valewood, their home just south of the border of Cyrodiil. His father was a master hunter and marksmen who looked at the brighter side of life, he always had a grin on his face. His mother was a simple woman who wished to do nothing than to care for her family and raise her children right. Tagorn was the youngest of six children, four brothers and two sisters, each of whom wished to follow in their father's foot steps, save for Tagorn. Even at a young age Tagorn felt a emptiness inside of him, a longing for something he didn't know how to satisfy. So he merely pushed it down inside of him and put on the act of a happy child, laughing and playing with his siblings like he thought he should. He got lessons in archery from his father which quickly excelled, much to the disdain of his siblings who he surpassed. So he went his childhood, dull and full of the lie that he was happy.
After he fifty years he finally saw fit to leave his childhood home behind, an act found to be rather easy even with his mother waving a teary eyed good bye as he left. He wondered for months all over Valenwood, hunting and living off the land, as he searched for something to fill the void that still ate away at him. He thought he would go mad because the feeling, which started to haunt his every waking hour, when he was captured by a group of bandits. They threated to skin him alive if he didn't hand over his coin, a threat he knew they would carry through with. The strange fact about this was he wasn't afraid he was amazed, he felt that the power that the group gave off was what he needed to fill the emptiness in him. He gladly gave over the small amount coin he had and also offered them his serveries. To say the least the bandits were a bit taken back, but they accepted Tagorn's offer. He spent years with the group of bandits, know as the Valenwood Raiders, building up his and the groups reputations. He rose through the ranks of the gang, leading raids on merchant caravans and completing assassinations, to the point he became one of the most wanted men in Valenwood, though only under the alias "Dead Oak". For a time the emptiness did go away and he felt that he had finally found what he was looking for, but it didn't last.
He had spent forty-eight years in the gang, by then being one of the longest lasting members. He had a stable operation, coin coming in from his raids he was able to set up and all the maidens he chose from, but yet the emptiness found it's way back into him. He found himself longing again and he still didn't know what for, but that all changed when he meet her. He had lead a small group of his gang on a normal raiding hunt, a system of raiding he set up twenty years back, when he came across a lone Dunmer wandering the trails. She was obviously a priestess of some sort from the looks of her robes, a very common sight on the roads. Normally Tagorn would of just ignored her and keep searching for something more profitable, like a caravan, but something was drawing him to his, it was the longing as if it was speaking to him. So he had his squad ambush her, much to their confusion and to his to be honest. He slowly approached the seemingly young Dark elf, her expression barely seeming to recognize her path was interrupted. Tagorn went through the normal routine "Hand over all of your belongs before we rip you to shreds." blah blah blah. He was quite honestly just go through the motions, well until the priestess started laughing that is. She laughed for a few moments, all of which Tagorn was quite confused, before speaking in a cold voice that dripped with malice. "Don't tell stupid jokes foolish child. Now move out of my way before I slaughter you all." At this Tagorn's confusion was replaced by anger and he gave his squad the order to kill the woman, a single came use to giving over the years. But the seemingly defenseless woman quickly reacted by side stepping a strike that would of easily ended her life and quickly snapping the neck of her attacker. Down a man the raiders quickly swarmed the woman, a tactic that normally worked on a single opponent, but as quickly as the first man died another was dead from a dagger through the heart. Tagorn stood astonished as he watched the woman seemingly dance around her attackers, he found it oddly beautiful, and took them down. A team of ten was now down to four, counting Tagorn, when the woman was subdued by a blow to the head from Tagorn's bow. Targon's instincts told him to end her now, but a part of him felt she had what he needed, what he truly needed. So ordered to last of his men to bind her and bring her back to their camp, a order he had to enforce by back handing one of the men.
It was late in the evening when they arrived back to their camp, a large fort that Tagron was around the construction of. It was filled with forty, now thirty-four do to the recent deaths, men and women loyal to the Valenwood Raiders. Tagorn had the woman placed in a holding cell, that normally was used for when the raiders held someone for ransom, and held a privet interrogation. He sat for at least a hour just staring at the woman in silence trying to figure out what it was that drew him to her. The Dunmer grew quite restless with Tagorn's eyes staring at her and she broke the silence with the simple threat. "You're going to die." This brought a smirk to Tagorn's face for a brief moment before asked the question. "What are you?" Now it was the Dunmer's turn to laugh. "Well, who I am is Hekelle. What I am is your better." Tagorn wanted to argue but something was telling him that she was not boasting, that she was indeed his better. They sat again in silence before Hekelle approached the bars of her cell and lowered her self so he was at face level with Tagorn, who just in a chair in front of Hekelle's cell. "I can sense it in you. That hole in you that you try to fill but you can't." She said in a seemingly caring voice. "I use to feel like you. But that was before I meet him." She said with a wicked grin, that revealed her fangs. She then pulled out an amulet from her robe that bore a odd marking. "This is the mark of Molag Bal, my master." She had explained. "He is the one who granted my this power. The power that I will now offer you." Tagorn's head spun as he put it all together. She had offered him to turn into one of the children of Molag Bal, a vampire. He can't remember how long he considered the offer, a moment a hour, he could not say. But the answer was still acceptance. He can still recall him unlocking Hekelle's cell and the cold feeling that came over him once she placed the kiss that ended his life on his neck.
The next three days of Tagorn's fleeting life were pure pain and suffering to put it lightly. The first day he had a unquenchable thirst, he drained the forts galley of every drop of ale, rum, and water. The seconded day every sound seemed to hurt his hearing and light of the sun blinded him to the point that he refused to lead a raiding party, but the third was when he had reached his limit. He felt like he was set ablaze, his skin felt it was being peeled off and his bones felt like they were being broken one by one, he refused to leave his bed. The fourth day brought him the joyous release of death. He awoke late in the evening, with all the pain of the past day washed away. Instead of the burning he just felt cold, but as he arose from his bed everything seemed different. He was able to notice things he hadn't before, like the smell from the galley two floors down or the creaking sound of the floor boards in the next room. But the thing that stuck out the most was he was missing something. His heart beat had stop and the rhythm he had grown use to his whole life had stopped. He ran his tongue over his newly grown fangs before he headed back to the holding cells, making sure not to be seen by any of the raiders. Hekelle and Tagorn had set up this plan after she had bitten him, though he was fading in and out while Hekelle made up the final details, but the just of it was to release Hekelle and they'd both feed on the raiders. Tagorn had followed through with he's part of the plane and released Hekelle and they proceeded to clear the fort of the raiders. They struck from the shadows snapping necks left and right, draining dry the occasional raider. It was when the fort was painted with the blood of the raiders when Tagorn turned on Hekelle, she didn't even see it coming. He quickly bit into her neck, nearly ripping it out, draining her dry like he did all the others of his former gang. Some may ask why he did it, well it was because he finally found out what the hole inside of him was for. It was for the power and blood that Molag Bal promised through death and he refused to share them in fear that he might feel empty again. He slowly retrieved the blood stained amulet from the dry corpse of his very brief partner and left his former empty life and fort in the past.
The years since his rebirth Tagorn has traveled all over Tamriel as an assassin, sell sword, body guard and bandit at some point. He even became a pirate were he lead the boarding parties, though he did end up killing the crew of his ship when they found out what he was and tried to burn him. He also has been serving Molag Bal as one of his champions, killing rival priests and priestesses of the other Daedric princess. He has recently found himself in Leyawiin, in one of his rare off times, in search for something to sedate his need for blood.
