Basic information:

Name: Solveig
Race: Nord
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Birthsign: The Steed
Place of Origin: Whiterun
Appearance:


Solveig grew tall, like her father, and thick with it too. Her face is always caught in a frown that paints her as always displeased, though she delights in a good drinking partner and will always light up in the presence of a good brother or sister of the shield. She had icy blue eyes like her mother while her hair is fiery red like her father and her temper. She doesn’t take jabs at her honor well, as evidenced by the scars found along her body from honor duels, usually to first blood.

Background: Solveig was born in Whiterun in 175. Her upbringing was that of an ordinary girl, though as she grew, she was wont to play war rather than pretend to be a princess. Her mother would call her her thane and she wore the title with pride, though it had no weight. Her father was gone, but her mother would tell her stories about him. How big he was, how handsome, how he was a fierce warrior with many victories to his name. The man would visit sometimes, for a day or two before heading out again. Mother said he was a busy man and the money he was earning was helping them keep her stomach full. Though, her mother’s tears on lonely nights painted a different picture. Had he hurt her? She didn’t see any bruises or cuts and there was never blood in the laundry. It wouldn’t be until she was twelve that she would understand. Her mother was lonely, her husband gone so often and at home so rarely. She gave him the cold shoulder and a hard look every time he came around.

She rounded out her teen years as a tavern maid in the Bannered Mare, making a few coins plus a few more on the side from drunken newbeards thinking they’d get her time with a few well-placed coins. When they got angry at their failure, she broke groping hands and cracked a few heads on the bartop. Partly why she lost the job. Instead, she took up work at Ulfberth War-Bear’s shop, polishing and sharpening swords, axes, spears and knives as well as cleaning up the shop at closing. She earned a few extra coins chopping wood for the taverns and the farms, and anyone else who was buying and needed a fire. She pretended the logs were enemies, split down the middle with one great swing of her weapon. Battle wouldn’t come to her, even as her father was away doing just that with men her age and younger, even. They’d receive a letter from her father one day telling them to move to Rorikstead as quickly as they could. They had to leave some of their belongings as well as her friends. Days after, she saw the smoke on the horizon and days after that, she knew Whiterun had been sieged by Ulfric.

They lived in Rorikstead for a while, Solveig and her mother becoming fieldworkers. She went back to chopping wood for extra coin, and many times she had thought of giving it up and running away in the dead of night to sign on with the Stormcloaks to find her father. She never did. Each time, she’d go to kiss her mother goodbye, but her face would only bring back memories of her crying because of an absent husband. She couldn’t take away her mother’s daughter too. She’d sulk back to her bed and lay there until sleep found her. When the war ended, her father came back to see them again. Their shop had survived the siege along with most of the city, really. But their ownership of it wouldn’t continue for long. The taxman, knowing her father was a Stormcloak with inherited debts on top of that, took great pleasure in taking their shop away from them in exchange for expunging their debts.

Once again, her father had that look in his eye and she heard him and her mother arguing again at night, trying to hide it like she was still a little girl. She was a woman, for Talos’ sake, she could take whatever was coming. Gods knew she took whatever had already come through the years. The next morning, they packed what they could and moved to Markarth, her father parting ways at the last crossroads. She apprenticed herself to a warrior and joined him in his exploits as they went to the front lines against the Forsworn, though she did not fight any battles herself. She would find her way back to Markarth after the old boy died in a skirmish after teaching her all he knew. This was all kept secret from her father. In the months her father was with Ashav, she signed on to every fighting band she could in hopes of running into her father but no such luck was granted to her. At least she gained the know-how to fight and to keep up with the others.

She joined the town guard after enough failures to find Jorwen and was assigned duty outside the walls, something her mother kept secret from Jorwen as well. When the Forsworn began raiding the countryside, she won one of the only victories against them when she tracked a warband down and lay in wait for them on the road. Sadly, they never came and she returned home angry to learn that the warband looted and burned along a different road. Once she heard that her father had followed his company to Windhelm, she begged her mother and she followed her there too. It helped that Windhelm was far away from the Reach and the Forsworn business. Now, she stays there, waiting for her chance and trying to gain the nerve to approach her father. She wonders what he’ll say to her wearing his old bear cloak and stormcloak blue. Surely, he’d be proud. Or at least finally accept someone else could earn their gold and he could rest and be a husband finally, instead of an absent father.

Personality: Solveig is a strong woman, that’s what others will tell you. In truth, she’s confused. Twenty-eight years on Nirn and she barely knows her father though she took after him so much. A damn good shieldmaiden, others will tell you, a prodigy of combat. In truth, she’s angry. Angry at herself and her father, her mother too, though her father’s absence is hardly any fault of hers. Solveig hears the call of battle and it resonates in her, more like her father than she knows, and she drowns herself in it if only to keep old hurts away. She's dedicated herself to proving that she's an excellent warrior and she's prone to make boasts and is quick to defend her own honor, she's become quite the duelist.

She's as friendly as you are to her, a drinker, a fighter, unshakable in her loyalty and incorruptible in her ideals- at least as far as she knows- she makes for a woman stepped forth from the songs of the 500 themselves. Her hot-blooded nature is often something that can get her into trouble and there are a few times where she's bitten off more than she could chew. A bit theatric and set on earning a name and maybe deep down, proving herself to her father, she is a good companion and a fine friend.

Capabilities:

Skills: Expert (Spear)
Adept (Sneak, Medium Armor, Shield, One-Handed Blade)
Novice (Medicine)

Weaknesses: Arachnophobia, Fear of Heights
Relations to Other Characters: Jorwen Red-Bear, Daughter
Affiliation(s):

Spells (if any): None
Combat Style: Solveig has quick hands and no fear of a sharp edge. She has proven herself as a very capable fighter with short blades. But what she excels at is the use of her shield and her spear, darting about impossibly fast and stabbing out from her shield. She is a bit of a pragmatist when it comes to fighting as well, using her environment fully to her advantage; Splashing with water or any other liquid, kicking up dirt, spitting, striking groins, gouging eyes, anything to win.
Other Capabilities:

Inventory:

Cash: 34 septims
Keys and Lockpicks: Three lockpicks, the key to her modest home in Windhelm
Clothing and Armor: Simple blue cloth shirt with cloth trousers and a thick fur overshirt. Worn leather boots, leather gloves and fur bracers, a bear-fur cloak. She wears a steel open-faced helm under the bear-hood, as well as thick darkened boiled leather over a padded cloth vest in battle.
Weapon and Ammunition: A steel hewing spear, two knives- one with a blade 14 inches long, the other six. She also carries a shield with a red bear on it.
Potion and Arcane Supplies: None
Jewelry and Novelty Items: None
Books and Documents: ‘On War’ by Francis Bower, ‘The Martial Arts: From Club to Rapier’ by Castus Cruvens
Food, Drinks, Ingredients: Three six-by-six pieces of hardtack, a waterskin and cured meat
Bags, Pouches, Packs: A satchel with the above food contents inside as well as a flint and steel, a map of Skyrim
Other: