@Hank It was a simple misunderstanding on my part, I was assuming since we were being sent on a mission deep into to the jungle to kill a warlord in an elder scrolls setting, the characters would have to be exceptional on some level. It won't happen again and I'll make a character that will hopefully soothe your concerns.
Name: Do'ava Age: 28 Gender: Male Race: Khajiit, Cathay Birthsign: The Warrior Appearance: Do'ava is on the shorter side, standing at 5 feet 8 inches and is lean with muscle. He has a single gold earring in his right ear. His fur is pitch black, turning a charcoal color in direct sunlight. His left hand is oddly pure white, including his left hand claws. His eyes are golden with thin black pupils. This Khajiit has several scars all along his body, a testament to his years as a caravan guard. He has dreadlocks the same color as his fur, if not darker, that go down to the middle of his neck.
His eyes, though acute and sharp, have a somewhat crazed look to them. No doubt due to his skooma use. As such, sometimes Do'ava will appear twitchy and irritable when he is usually calm and friendly. Do'ava typically wears armor that is a combination of leather and metal, with a cloak for when the weather gets rough. He wields two scimitars, both of which he keeps on either hip.
Biography: Do'ava was born in Southern Elsweyr in the 179th year of the Fourth Era. He was the son of a pair of skooma farmers. Obviously illegal, Do'Ava or just Ava back then, was born into a life of crime. Ava learned from a young age to watch his back, as his parents' plantation was constantly targeted by rival gangs. He learned the ins and outs of growing skooma and street fighting, how to dodge guards and cut purses. But Ava grew bored with the life he led, always staying in the same place, talking and fighting with the same people. When he was 15, he left home and headed towards the coast, using his parents' connections to join a smuggler ship. Still working with skooma, but they sailed all over Tamriel. His family, while sad to see him go, were supportive and Ava knew they would get by just fine without them.
The year was 4E 194 and Ava was sailing the ocean. He found it so much more thrilling, learning to sail, dodging imperial ships and pirates alike. Ava found a brotherhood among this band of thieves he had never known before. Cruising into harbors in the dead of night and moving crates of skooma under the noses of idiotic guards. Ava never knew being a criminal could be this much fun, as before he was essentially the son of a well paid farmer. After a year, Ava was awarded his prefix of Dar. Apparently smugglers love nothing if not a good laugh. Dar is the classic prefix for thief. Dar'Ava continued the smuggler's life, but besides learning to sail and move illegal narcotics, he also picked up a habit. Skooma. It's common for smugglers to take skooma to keep alert for the authorities into the night and while Khajiit have a large tolerance, some still get addicted. After 5 years of use, Dar'Ava was definitely addicted to skooma, but he managed it well. Well, until he finally got caught.
They were off the coast of Skyrim, heading back home after an especially risky run on horseback to Riften. It was an early misty morning, and they didn't see the dual imperial vessels and nordic long ships sandwich them on either side. The ships slammed together and the smugglers were quickly overrun. Dar'ava earned one of his scars that day and was quickly thrown into the prison in Winterhold. It wasn't exactly ideal. Locked up in a cold and wet prison cell miles and miles from the warm sands from home. Dar'ava spent a year in prison, where he got the Khajiit earring of a prisoner, a single gold loop through his right ear. It was in the year 201 that Dar'ava was approached by Drovassa, a Khajiit merchant caravan leader. Somehow this silver tongued cat had convinced the infamously prejudiced Stormcloak guards to let him in. However he got in, he offered Dar'ava a choice. With the rise of dragons, caravans always needed capable combatants to protect them. Drovassa offered him a position as a caravan guard. Dar'ava knew if he didn't go he would rot in here for at least another 10 years, best case scenario. So he took it. The next day he was suited up in some custom armor and weapons of his choice and off they went.
Dar'ava had picked up the scimitars from Redguard smugglers and he proved so talented with them that he chose to wield two. Dar'ava began to travel Skyrim with the caravan, guarding the cargo. It wasn't the best paying, not compared to the skooma trade. Speaking of skooma, that year in prison with very little skooma broke Dar'ava a bit and his dependence increased as he binged it when he got out. Of course he was clever enough to keep it from Drovassa, but it was an issue getting it in Skyrim. Regardless, he kept on working, bashing heads and slicing throats when needed. It was in the peak of the civil war that Dar'ava had met Hector Sibassius. Despite being an Imperial stooge, Dar'ava found himself intrigued by the man. That intrigue lasted all the way until the caravan and imperial patrol Hector was a part was ambushed by bandits. It was the most bandits Dar'ava had ever seen in one place and he used to be a big time smuggler. It was bloody battle, half of the caravan was wiped and a quarter of its cargo was ruined. Dar'ava earned another scar and narrowly saved Drovassa's life by decapitating a bandits who was about to lodge an axe into Drovassa's head with a move he learned from an old Redguard man.
This action won Drovassa's respect and gratitude and might have caught the attention of Hector as well. Drovassa declared Dar'ava a thief no more and instead had proved himself a warrior, earning the prefix Do'ava. Do'ava beamed with pride and felt relief he had taken Drovassa's offer. The civil war came and went and Dar'ava continued to work as a senior caravan guard. They had branched out into Cyrodil so the trips were longer and more dangerous, but better paying. Until one day, when Do'ava got a letter from Captain Hector Sibassius telling of a dangerous mission. While Do'ava had no love for the Empire, he always knew the importance of contacts, even from a young age. Plus with dangerous missions comes money and he could always use more of that. So Do'ava took a leave of absence from Drovassa's caravan company and went to meet Hector Sibassius...
Personality: This is where you show me you can create a believable, three-dimensional character with strengths and flaws.
Skills: This covers everything, from combat to magic to stealth to miscellaneous. I'll be pretty free-form about this but none of our characters are prophesied Heroes. Restrain yourselves. Your character can't be an expert in everything. This goes double for mages, so restrict your character to one or two schools of magic.
Equipment: List everything they bring with them, not just weapons and armor.
Other: Anything I forgot that you want to mention.
@The Dow Dragon That's fair. That the odds are stacked against us is a deliberate decision on my part. I look forward to reading your finished second sheet.
@HankSo unfortunately, no one seems interested in my offer on how to get the character concept I wanted involved. So it seems I'll be retracting from this one, barring a sudden burst of character-based inspiration.
Name: Do'ava Age: 28 Gender: Male Race: Khajiit, Cathay Birthsign: The Warrior Appearance: Do'ava is on the shorter side, standing at 5 feet 8 inches and is lean with muscle. He has a single gold earring in his right ear. His fur is pitch black, turning a charcoal color in direct sunlight. His left hand is oddly pure white, including his left hand claws. His eyes are golden with thin black pupils. This Khajiit has several scars all along his body, a testament to his years as a caravan guard. He has dreadlocks the same color as his fur, if not darker, that go down to the middle of his neck.
His eyes, though acute and sharp, have a somewhat crazed look to them. No doubt due to his skooma use. As such, sometimes Do'ava will appear twitchy and irritable when he is usually calm and friendly. Do'ava typically wears armor that is a combination of leather and metal, with a cloak for when the weather gets rough. He wields two scimitars, both of which he keeps on either hip.
Biography: Do'ava was born in Southern Elsweyr in the 179th year of the Fourth Era. He was the son of a pair of skooma farmers. Obviously illegal, Do'Ava or just Ava back then, was born into a life of crime. Ava learned from a young age to watch his back, as his parents' plantation was constantly targeted by rival gangs. He learned the ins and outs of growing skooma and street fighting, how to dodge guards and cut purses. But Ava grew bored with the life he led, always staying in the same place, talking and fighting with the same people. When he was 15, he left home and headed towards the coast, using his parents' connections to join a smuggler ship. Still working with skooma, but they sailed all over Tamriel. His family, while sad to see him go, were supportive and Ava knew they would get by just fine without him.
The year was 4E 194 and Ava was sailing the ocean. He found it so much more thrilling, learning to sail, dodging imperial ships and pirates alike. Ava found a brotherhood among this band of thieves he had never known before. Cruising into harbors in the dead of night and moving crates of skooma under the noses of idiotic guards. Ava never knew being a criminal could be this much fun, as before he was essentially the son of a well paid farmer. After a year, Ava was awarded his prefix of Dar. Apparently smugglers love nothing if not a good laugh. Dar is the classic prefix for thief. Dar'Ava continued the smuggler's life, but besides learning to sail and move illegal narcotics, he also picked up a habit. Skooma. It's common for smugglers to take skooma to keep alert for the authorities into the night and while Khajiit have a large tolerance, some still get addicted. After 5 years of use, Dar'Ava was definitely addicted to skooma, but he managed it well. Well, until he finally got caught.
They were off the coast of Skyrim, heading back home after an especially risky run on horseback to Riften. It was an early misty morning, and they didn't see the dual imperial vessels and nordic long ships sandwich them on either side. The ships slammed together and the smugglers were quickly overrun. Dar'ava earned one of his scars that day and was quickly thrown into the prison in Winterhold. It wasn't exactly ideal. Locked up in a cold and wet prison cell miles and miles from the warm sands from home. Dar'ava spent a year in prison, where he got the Khajiit earring of a prisoner, a single gold loop through his right ear. It was in the year 201 that Dar'ava was approached by Drovassa, a Khajiit merchant caravan leader. Somehow this silver tongued cat had convinced the infamously prejudiced Stormcloak guards to let him in. However he got in, he offered Dar'ava a choice. With the rise of dragons, caravans always needed capable combatants to protect them. Drovassa offered him a position as a caravan guard. Dar'ava knew if he didn't go he would rot in here for at least another 10 years, best case scenario. So he took it. The next day he was suited up in some custom armor and weapons of his choice and off they went.
Dar'ava had picked up the scimitars from Redguard smugglers and he proved so talented with them that he chose to wield two. Dar'ava began to travel Skyrim with the caravan, guarding the cargo. It wasn't the best paying, not compared to the skooma trade. Speaking of skooma, that year in prison with very little skooma broke Dar'ava a bit and his dependence increased as he binged it when he got out. Of course he was clever enough to keep it from Drovassa, but it was an issue getting it in Skyrim. Regardless, he kept on working, bashing heads and slicing throats when needed. It was in the peak of the civil war that Dar'ava had met Hector Sibassius. Despite being an Imperial stooge, Dar'ava found himself intrigued by the man. That intrigue lasted all the way until the caravan and imperial patrol Hector was a part of was ambushed by bandits. It was the most bandits Dar'ava had ever seen in one place and he used to be a big time smuggler. It was a bloody battle, half of the caravan was wiped out and a quarter of its cargo was ruined. Dar'ava earned another scar and narrowly saved Drovassa's life by decapitating a bandit who was about to lodge an axe into Drovassa's head with a move he learned from an old Redguard man.
This action won Drovassa's respect and gratitude and might have caught the attention of Hector as well. Drovassa declared Dar'ava a thief no more and instead had proved himself a warrior, earning the prefix Do. Do'ava beamed with pride and felt relief he had taken Drovassa's offer. The civil war came and went and Do'ava continued to work as a senior caravan guard. They had branched out into Cyrodil so the trips were longer and more dangerous, but better paying. Until one day, when Do'ava got a letter from Captain Hector Sibassius telling of a dangerous mission. While Do'ava had no love for the Empire, he always knew the importance of contacts, even from a young age. Plus with dangerous missions comes money and he could always use more of that. So Do'ava took a leave of absence from Drovassa's caravan company and went to meet Hector Sibassius...
Personality:
Despite being a former criminal and full time caravan guard, Do'ava is a pretty easy going and friendly person. Everything he does borders on obnoxious arrogance but just manages to stay in the admirable confidence zone. In combat, he thoroughly enjoys himself. Do'ava's general approach to life is live everyday like it might be your last. In his line of work that is a very real possibility. But his demeanor changes completely when he's going through skooma withdrawals.
There are several stages to Do'ava when he hasn't got a fix. When he hasn't gotten a fix for a few days, he'll become twitchy and irritable. After a week and a half he'll become straight out rude and hostile and after about two weeks he'll become crazed and dangerous. With each week without skooma, he becomes deadlier, like a cornered animal. His love for skooma is so much he'll put himself and others in harms way to make sure nothing happens to it. While usually a good friend, skooma is the one thing that will completely shatter any affection he has towards a person. While a 'good' friend, Do'ava isn't a fan of becoming emotionally deep or sacrificing his own plans for others. A chief reason why he hasn't had any long term relationships of any kind.
Do'ava's combat style of running and slashing makes him a glass cannon, able to dish out the damage but not take it as much, despite armor. While Do'ava is no fool when it comes to combat, he doesn't have the mindset of a large scale tactician. As such, he will go into battle not considering the possibility of being surrounded or out supplied. He's at his best when he's just living in the heat of the moment, the ground fight.
Skills:
- Experienced Dual Swordsman: Years of fast living on the seas and as a caravan guard has made Do'ava a master of the dual blade combat style.
- Silver Tongued: Being a former criminal and member of a merchant caravan for 7 years, Do'ava knows how to manipulate people.
- Skilled Sailor: Do'ava can sail and navigate pretty much ever ship in Tamriel, given time.
- Skooma Farmer, Smuggler, and User: Do'ava is a bonafide expert in all things skooma, spending his life growing, moving, and using skooma.
- Blood of the Khajiit: Being a Khajiit, Do'ava just has a natural talent for certain things. Stealth and Secrecy is something Do'ava doesn't do often, but when he does, he can keep up.
Equipment:
- Caravan Guard Armor: A combination of leather and metal, this armor set is a great all around light armor. (Similar to Brigand Armor from Skyrim, but more sleeves.)
- Two Scimitars: Scimitars he purchased from a Redguard merchant once he was hired by Drovassa. Named Nisava and Talaasi. Their names are inscribed on the blades.
- Winterhold Prison Earring: An earring he was given by a fellow smuggler before said smuggler was executed. Do'ava wears it to honor his smuggler crew. Who ever said there was no honor among thieves?
- 5 Medium Sized Skooma bottles: Pretty self-explanatory.
- Small Pack: Just the bare essentials....like skooma.
Appearance: Balen is a Dunmer of tall stature, almost as tall as an Altmer, though nonetheless he possesses the sinewy, hard physique and rugged complexion of his kin, although he is a bit on the thicker side. He is, like most other Dunmer, ashen skinned, and red eyed, both his sclera and pupil blood red. Balen is not just peculiar in his height, but also his visage – he has an almost comical face, with a thin, hooked nose, and incredibly large, beetle-like eyes that look like they’re a slight squeeze away from popping out of their sockets whenever he opens his eyes fully. Thanks to this and his swept back hair, narrow chin and gaunt face, his upper head looks much more prominent than normal. He sports large sideburns that curl down from the sides of his head in locks, and is clean shaven otherwise.
Balen’s clothing favors function and simplicity over form. His common attire consists of a grayish-blue waterproof broadcloth robe, recently tailored to bear a sleeveless, leather raincoat on top to function as a cape, and false sleeves; it is a piece of attire that is probably two sizes too large for him and held close by help of a tightly wound sash, over a dull yellowish long-sleeved shirt. His lower body is covered by breeches that are tucked into gaiters, with simple leather slippers covering his feet.
Balen likes puffy, wide-brimmed hats and can often be found wearing one, tucking his ears well into the hat’s crown.
Biography: Balen has led a rather interesting life and picked up many professions throughout, and has mostly managed to stay away from physical harm.
Born in Blacklight, in a foggy Middas of the First Seed, to an upper middle class family affiliated with House Hlaalu, Balen grew up through a rather uneventful childhood as the youngest child. For most of his childhood, he was educated by his grandparents and his father’s grandfather, who was an immensely elderly scholar that claimed to have been saved by the Nerevarine from Kagoutis in Vvardenfell hundreds of years ago. Perhaps thanks to this man’s countless stories, or perhaps thanks to natural disposition, Balen earned a penchant for reading, reading up on the past, of the times before the Red Year. It was during these times, while he was reading the Sermons of Vivec, when he first questioned his faith in Ancestor Worship and Daedra Worship.
Following his father’s death, Balen, the youngest child, was given the duty of taking care of his father’s remains, while his elder brothers tried to get the family profession running again. Seeing this as an opportunity, Balen decided to uphold his father’s last wish and take his remains to Necrom, and joined a trading caravan to go there. During this journey, Balen befriended a Bosmer bookseller, Godron, who told Balen that he’d be happy to accommodate him in Valenwood. After interring his father’s remains in Necrom and buying a bunch of trinkets claimed to be of Akaviri make, he took a ship from Necrom to Southpoint. Here, Balen’s fine writing skills, Godron’s profession, and the money they made selling the so-called Akaviri artifacts, opened an interesting business venture – Godron would buy rare books, Balen would write down the content of books they’d find, Godron would sell the original copy to the highest bidder and then stock his shop with copies of the real book. During this time, Balen practiced his skills of writing, and more importantly, got his hands on books he wouldn’t be able to hear of otherwise. Making spare copies of books he got interested in, Balen eventually built up his own collection. Eventually, he parted ways with Godron amicably, and got on a ship to Alinor, to learn the secrets of the Aldmer. However, he could not get along with the Thalmor officials, and did not stay on the isles for long.
Balen got on a ship to Stros M’Kai to learn more about the Sload and perhaps Yokuda, but the ship was attacked by pirates. It was during this time when Balen first took his first two lives, cutting down a pair of pirates trying to carry his chest out of his room. Following the attack, the ship’s captain decided to dock at Rihad instead, finding its original course too dangerous for the damaged ship to handle. Balen spent a good amount of time in Rihad, comprehending the rather large amount of knowledge he had gathered in form of books so far, and going over them. During this time, Balen began pearl hunting as a hobby, but soon turned it into profit. He earned his fondness for Skooma in Rihad as well, thanks to its relaxing properties.
Balen left Rihad in a hurry after participating in a ritual to summon Hermaeus Mora that went awry. He had participated in the ritual, mostly as a guest, in hopes of learning more about the content of the Elder Scrolls from the Daedric Prince itself. However, the ritual went awry, and Balen, savvy enough to run before the Prince was fully summoned, was able to survive. He’d later learn that the corpses (if they were dead, that is) were literally merged with the walls of the Shrine. Going south, Balen moved to Chorrol and settled there, spending his time with the Mages Guild members. He found most of them too attached to the arts of Magicka to actually care about the grander scheme of things, however. Balen sold books in Chorrol for five years and tried to live a simpler life, compared to his time as an eccentric in Rihad. Then one day, Godron showed up at his doorstep.
After a long talk about what he’d been doing with his life since Balen left, Godron made Balen an offer. Godron told Balen that he was no longer a book seller, but a trader of artifacts. Of course, the risks were much higher as Godron had to fund his own expeditions and often partake in them himself, but it was also much more profitable, and he was able to see first-hand sources, and stop having to rely on inaccurate accounts. As expected, it went somewhat disastrously, and Balen’s friend Godron died, although Balen himself was not harmed physically. Many others could not say the same – he was even once accused of sending the group to their doom by one of the survivors, despite having not led the expedition.
Balen grieved over the loss of his friend, but not much, and not for long. As much as he hated to admit it, the expedition had indeed brought some excitement to his otherwise dull life, and just in time, too, for he had began questioning the things he had learned from books recently. He began to prepare himself for this life of adventure - spending the cash he had earned from his first experience for suitable equipment, Balen started looking for work, hoping to immerse himself in the unknown once more, and eventually found himself in a grave-delving party, where he met Hector Sibassius, with whom he would form a rather odd and unexpected friendship through the series of unfortunate events the group would go through.
After the arduous and almost fatal journey through the Nordic graves, Balen took a rather short break from adventuring, and instead made an innovative return to his roots by making an investment in an invention inspired by the Dwemer schematics he had seen over time – a printing press. Most of the hard work, of course, was thanks to an Altmer, who actually had experience in engineering. The tool itself was not very popular, but it helped Balen create a business around selling books once more, with much more free time.
Despite his newly found prospects, the idea of adventuring still burned inside his stomach, like a guilty pleasure beckoning for another try. Too afraid to seek it himself once more, Balen was both relieved and distressed whenever he stumbled upon anything resembling an ‘adventure’ once again, be it being encouraged by one of his patrons to go for administrative politics in the Imperial City, searching for ancient cities in Anequina, and occasionally helping out his ‘friend’, Hector Sibassius, in their chance encounters.
After the Great Fire of 204 burnt down his printing press, and the building which they were using as a workshop, amongst many other things (such as most his business possessions), Balen finally found himself an excuse to free himself from the ‘shallow life of comfort’ that he had been living. He began oaring and trading through the Niben River and beyond, and even started work on a book that was meant to explain the secret religious creed of the Thalmor. Based off his purchases, bribes, favors and findings, Balen finished the book by 4E 206, had it published, and even sent a copy to the Thalmor Ambassador, hoping to get an Official Permit to visit Alinor again, an act that he considers even today to be a ‘foolish gesture of pride and naivety’. After avoiding three freak accidents following the gift, Balen was eventually invited to Alinor as a guest of honor.
Feeling the invitation as an optional death warrant, Balen contacted his old friend, Hector Sibassius, to help him disappear. Using the connections of his past clients and his friend’s position to fake his own death (nothing more than a bunch of articles asking for an investigation of the controversial writer and some fake mortuary reports), Balen began his life as a Penitus Oculatus asset, going by the name of Eno Indor, working as a cryptanalyst, cryptographer, and walking reference index.
Personality: Balen has gone from amiable and shy, to still and quiet, and nowadays he’s practically somewhat of a prejudiced recluse. He’s constantly monotone, but not dull or dense – he simply believes that he does not have much to share with most of the people around him, so he keeps quiet and does not try to be a sore thumb. He’s not oozing with calmness like a monk, but rather, he’s just contemplative. His quiet and introverted nature does not mean that he tries to get along with everyone for the sake of security, however. As opposed to trying to be on good terms with everyone, Balen simply prefers keeping quiet and picking his words, and the people he speaks to.
Balen is a quiet and considerate man of simple pleasures, making him a useful companion, though he can be hard to get used to, given his rather unorthodox views (such as voicing admiration for the Thalmor’s long term goals). He has developed an interest in the esoteric and metaphysic over time, and enjoys speaking about such matters – at some time in his past, he gravitated towards mages, but over time Balen has realized that most mages don’t care about the nature of magic the way he does.
It’s easy to confuse Balen for a man of peace thanks to his behavior. This is wrong – he’s simply a considerate, practical and somewhat paranoid person, who knows that too much attention is often a bad thing, and thus tries to stick to the corners of other’s eyes, away from the limelight. He’s not afraid to get his hands dirty, being well aware that his new position has not been given to him out of pity but usefulness, and has gotten in and out of messy situations more than once. Nonetheless, he’d much rather prefer that they’d stay clean. Balen has, much to his chagrin, taken a preference for looking for practical applications of things, knowing well that the more useful he is, the more important an asset he is, and thus, less likely to be discarded or sacrificed.
Skills: Balen is an odd case – he’s about as much as brawn as he is brains, in that his constitution is almost prodigious. Balen can walk and run miles without tiring, dive for unexpectedly long periods of time, and carry very heavy equipment without flinching. Despite all of this, Balen avoids physical and ranged combat like the plague, keeping his foes at a distance with use of a walking cane and, as much as he despises putting theory to practice, alchemical liquids. An erudite scholar and anatomist, a skilled linguist and a stenographer, Balen has refined his craft of translating and writing to code breaking and cryptography, and, despite lacking any practical skills of Restoration, can perform medical procedures if necessary. Balen has earned slight practice in magical arts out of necessity, having become a fairly practiced user of the school of Alteration.
Equipment: Balen carries a walking cane made of ironwood as his sole ‘weapon’, with a detachable handle which contains a steel dagger, one that has not been brandished yet, to a degree that Balen has mostly forgotten about its function. Save a padded cloth corselet with a layer of silk to hold projectiles worn over his shirt, and a scaled leather sparring gauntlet to hold onto enemy blades, Balen is unarmored. Slung across his shoulder is a satchel that contains a small pestle and a mortar, a couple of books on Valenwood’s flora and fauna, a book on 'practical' alchemy, a book on the anatomy of the races of Tamriel, a surgery toolkit, and an iron retort along with a purse holding fire salts. Worn across his chest is a bandoleer holding lacquered, wooden containers of alchemical potions.
Balen also carries a steel, hand-pumped spray with a refillable container, commissioned for the trip, to function as a weak poison spray against the rather displeasing wildlife of Valenwood. After a bunch of days spent tinkering, he has managed to attach a separate, additional container, which he has experimented with to ‘spray’ potions, be they beneficial or malevolent.
Other: A former Skooma addict, he has quit the habit, and since found out that he has a keen sense of smell.
Because who doesn't want a practical man with knowledge by his side?
Appearance: Balen is a Dunmer of tall stature, almost as tall as an Altmer, though nonetheless he possesses the sinewy, hard physique and rugged complexion of his kin, although he is a bit on the thicker side. He is, like most other Dunmer, ashen skinned, and red eyed, both his sclera and pupil blood red. Balen is not just peculiar in his height, but also his visage – he has an almost comical face, with a thin, hooked nose, and incredibly large, beetle-like eyes that look like they’re a slight squeeze away from popping out of their sockets whenever he opens his eyes fully. Thanks to this and his swept back hair, narrow chin and gaunt face, his upper head looks much more prominent than normal. He sports large sideburns that curl down from the sides of his head in locks, and is clean shaven otherwise.
Balen’s clothing favors function and simplicity over form. His common attire consists of a grayish-blue waterproof broadcloth robe, recently tailored to bear a sleeveless, leather raincoat on top to function as a cape, and false sleeves; it is a piece of attire that is probably two sizes too large for him and held close by help of a tightly wound sash, over a dull yellowish long-sleeved shirt. His lower body is covered by breeches that are tucked into gaiters, with simple leather slippers covering his feet.
Balen likes puffy, wide-brimmed hats and can often be found wearing one, tucking his ears well into the hat’s crown.
Biography: Balen has led a rather interesting life and picked up many professions throughout, and has mostly managed to stay away from physical harm.
Born in Blacklight, in a foggy Middas of the First Seed, to an upper middle class family affiliated with House Hlaalu, Balen grew up through a rather uneventful childhood as the youngest child. For most of his childhood, he was educated by his grandparents and his father’s grandfather, who was an immensely elderly scholar that claimed to have been saved by the Nerevarine from Kagoutis in Vvardenfell hundreds of years ago. Perhaps thanks to this man’s countless stories, or perhaps thanks to natural disposition, Balen earned a penchant for reading, reading up on the past, of the times before the Red Year. It was during these times, while he was reading the Sermons of Vivec, when he first questioned his faith in Ancestor Worship and Daedra Worship.
Following his father’s death, Balen, the youngest child, was given the duty of taking care of his father’s remains, while his elder brothers tried to get the family profession running again. Seeing this as an opportunity, Balen decided to uphold his father’s last wish and take his remains to Necrom, and joined a trading caravan to go there. During this journey, Balen befriended a Bosmer bookseller, Godron, who told Balen that he’d be happy to accommodate him in Valenwood. After interring his father’s remains in Necrom and buying a bunch of trinkets claimed to be of Akaviri make, he took a ship from Necrom to Southpoint. Here, Balen’s fine writing skills, Godron’s profession, and the money they made selling the so-called Akaviri artifacts, opened an interesting business venture – Godron would buy rare books, Balen would write down the content of books they’d find, Godron would sell the original copy to the highest bidder and then stock his shop with copies of the real book. During this time, Balen practiced his skills of writing, and more importantly, got his hands on books he wouldn’t be able to hear of otherwise. Making spare copies of books he got interested in, Balen eventually built up his own collection. Eventually, he parted ways with Godron amicably, and got on a ship to Alinor, to learn the secrets of the Aldmer. However, he could not get along with the Thalmor officials, and did not stay on the isles for long.
Balen got on a ship to Stros M’Kai to learn more about the Sload and perhaps Yokuda, but the ship was attacked by pirates. It was during this time when Balen first took his first two lives, cutting down a pair of pirates trying to carry his chest out of his room. Following the attack, the ship’s captain decided to dock at Rihad instead, finding its original course too dangerous for the damaged ship to handle. Balen spent a good amount of time in Rihad, comprehending the rather large amount of knowledge he had gathered in form of books so far, and going over them. During this time, Balen began pearl hunting as a hobby, but soon turned it into profit. He earned his fondness for Skooma in Rihad as well, thanks to its relaxing properties.
Balen left Rihad in a hurry after participating in a ritual to summon Hermaeus Mora that went awry. He had participated in the ritual, mostly as a guest, in hopes of learning more about the content of the Elder Scrolls from the Daedric Prince itself. However, the ritual went awry, and Balen, savvy enough to run before the Prince was fully summoned, was able to survive. He’d later learn that the corpses (if they were dead, that is) were literally merged with the walls of the Shrine. Going south, Balen moved to Chorrol and settled there, spending his time with the Mages Guild members. He found most of them too attached to the arts of Magicka to actually care about the grander scheme of things, however. Balen sold books in Chorrol for five years and tried to live a simpler life, compared to his time as an eccentric in Rihad. Then one day, Godron showed up at his doorstep.
After a long talk about what he’d been doing with his life since Balen left, Godron made Balen an offer. Godron told Balen that he was no longer a book seller, but a trader of artifacts. Of course, the risks were much higher as Godron had to fund his own expeditions and often partake in them himself, but it was also much more profitable, and he was able to see first-hand sources, and stop having to rely on inaccurate accounts. As expected, it went somewhat disastrously, and Balen’s friend Godron died, although Balen himself was not harmed physically. Many others could not say the same – he was even once accused of sending the group to their doom by one of the survivors, despite having not led the expedition.
Balen grieved over the loss of his friend, but not much, and not for long. As much as he hated to admit it, the expedition had indeed brought some excitement to his otherwise dull life, and just in time, too, for he had began questioning the things he had learned from books recently. He began to prepare himself for this life of adventure - spending the cash he had earned from his first experience for suitable equipment, Balen started looking for work, hoping to immerse himself in the unknown once more, and eventually found himself in a grave-delving party, where he met Hector Sibassius, with whom he would form a rather odd and unexpected friendship through the series of unfortunate events the group would go through.
After the arduous and almost fatal journey through the Nordic graves, Balen took a rather short break from adventuring, and instead made an innovative return to his roots by making an investment in an invention inspired by the Dwemer schematics he had seen over time – a printing press. Most of the hard work, of course, was thanks to an Altmer, who actually had experience in engineering. The tool itself was not very popular, but it helped Balen create a business around selling books once more, with much more free time.
Despite his newly found prospects, the idea of adventuring still burned inside his stomach, like a guilty pleasure beckoning for another try. Too afraid to seek it himself once more, Balen was both relieved and distressed whenever he stumbled upon anything resembling an ‘adventure’ once again, be it being encouraged by one of his patrons to go for administrative politics in the Imperial City, searching for ancient cities in Anequina, and occasionally helping out his ‘friend’, Hector Sibassius, in their chance encounters.
After the Great Fire of 204 burnt down his printing press, and the building which they were using as a workshop, amongst many other things (such as most his business possessions), Balen finally found himself an excuse to free himself from the ‘shallow life of comfort’ that he had been living. He began oaring and trading through the Niben River and beyond, and even started work on a book that was meant to explain the secret religious creed of the Thalmor. Based off his purchases, bribes, favors and findings, Balen finished the book by 4E 206, had it published, and even sent a copy to the Thalmor Ambassador, hoping to get an Official Permit to visit Alinor again, an act that he considers even today to be a ‘foolish gesture of pride and naivety’. After avoiding three freak accidents following the gift, Balen was eventually invited to Alinor as a guest of honor.
Feeling the invitation as an optional death warrant, Balen contacted his old friend, Hector Sibassius, to help him disappear. Using the connections of his past clients and his friend’s position to fake his own death (nothing more than a bunch of articles asking for an investigation of the controversial writer and some fake mortuary reports), Balen began his life as a Penitus Oculatus asset, going by the name of Eno Indor, working as a cryptanalyst, cryptographer, and walking reference index.
Personality: Balen has gone from amiable and shy, to still and quiet, and nowadays he’s practically somewhat of a prejudiced recluse. He’s constantly monotone, but not dull or dense – he simply believes that he does not have much to share with most of the people around him, so he keeps quiet and does not try to be a sore thumb. He’s not oozing with calmness like a monk, but rather, he’s just contemplative. His quiet and introverted nature does not mean that he tries to get along with everyone for the sake of security, however. As opposed to trying to be on good terms with everyone, Balen simply prefers keeping quiet and picking his words, and the people he speaks to.
Balen is a quiet and considerate man of simple pleasures, making him a useful companion, though he can be hard to get used to, given his rather unorthodox views (such as voicing admiration for the Thalmor’s long term goals). He has developed an interest in the esoteric and metaphysic over time, and enjoys speaking about such matters – at some time in his past, he gravitated towards mages, but over time Balen has realized that most mages don’t care about the nature of magic the way he does.
It’s easy to confuse Balen for a man of peace thanks to his behavior. This is wrong – he’s simply a considerate, practical and somewhat paranoid person, who knows that too much attention is often a bad thing, and thus tries to stick to the corners of other’s eyes, away from the limelight. He’s not afraid to get his hands dirty, being well aware that his new position has not been given to him out of pity but usefulness, and has gotten in and out of messy situations more than once. Nonetheless, he’d much rather prefer that they’d stay clean. Balen has, much to his chagrin, taken a preference for looking for practical applications of things, knowing well that the more useful he is, the more important an asset he is, and thus, less likely to be discarded or sacrificed.
Skills: Balen is an odd case – he’s about as much as brawn as he is brains, in that his constitution is almost prodigious. Balen can walk and run miles without tiring, dive for unexpectedly long periods of time, and carry very heavy equipment without flinching. Despite all of this, Balen avoids physical and ranged combat like the plague, keeping his foes at a distance with use of a walking cane and, as much as he despises putting theory to practice, alchemical liquids. An erudite scholar and anatomist, a skilled linguist and a stenographer, Balen has refined his craft of translating and writing to code breaking and cryptography, and, despite lacking any practical skills of Restoration, can perform medical procedures if necessary. Balen has earned slight practice in magical arts out of necessity, having become a fairly practiced user of the school of Alteration.
Equipment: Balen carries a walking cane made of ironwood as his sole ‘weapon’, with a detachable handle which contains a steel dagger, one that has not been brandished yet, to a degree that Balen has mostly forgotten about its function. Save a padded cloth corselet with a layer of silk to hold projectiles worn over his shirt, and a scaled leather sparring gauntlet to hold onto enemy blades, Balen is unarmored. Slung across his shoulder is a satchel that contains a small pestle and a mortar, a couple of books on Valenwood’s flora and fauna, a book on 'practical' alchemy, a book on the anatomy of the races of Tamriel, a surgery toolkit, and an iron retort along with a purse holding fire salts. Worn across his chest is a bandoleer holding lacquered, wooden containers of alchemical potions.
Balen also carries a steel, hand-pumped spray with a refillable container, commissioned for the trip, to function as a weak poison spray against the rather displeasing wildlife of Valenwood. After a bunch of days spent tinkering, he has managed to attach a separate, additional container, which he has experimented with to ‘spray’ potions, be they beneficial or malevolent.
Other: A former Skooma addict, he has quit the habit, and since found out that he has a keen sense of smell.
Because who doesn't want a practical man with knowledge by his side?
You are unquestionably and ferociously accepted. Balen is looking better than ever.
@Peik Your efforts were handsomely rewarded with a multifaceted and layered character. It only makes sense that he would have progressed alongside Sibassius himself and I'm very glad that we'll have another opportunity to explore the peculiar and unlikely friendship between the both of them.
@Peik Your efforts were handsomely rewarded with a multifaceted and layered character. It only makes sense that he would have progressed alongside Sibassius himself and I'm very glad that we'll have another opportunity to explore the peculiar and unlikely friendship between the both of them.
There is certainly entertainment to be found in exploring friendships between people who heavily contrast with each other. At least we all like board games.
I'm still a bit busy, although I'll try to work on it more tonight, but here's a quick WIP:
Name: Tertullian Fauseius the Sojourner (also known as Tertullian Fauseius Sellsword and mockingly as Tertullian the Unfeathered) Age: 39 Gender: Male Race: Imperial Appearance: WIP; an additional piece of roughly representative character art will also be included as part of the final product
Biography: WIP as well, but here's a rough timeline of the most significant events in Tertullian's life
15-20: Served in the Imperial Legion 21: Wounded in the closing days of Skyrim's civil war in a battle against Ulfric Stormcloak's forces; honorably discharged from military service 21-24: Returned home and entered a period of soul-searching 24-28: Studied at the College of Winterhold; majored in Restoration and minored in Alteration 28-34: Traveled Tamriel as a sellsword using Restoration and Alteration magic to compensate for his injuries and improve upon his previous fighting style; exploits brought him into contact with many cultists, monsters and daedra, earning him the eye of Hector Sibassius 34-38: Quit life as a mercenary and joined the Vigilants of Stendarr 39: Volunteered for the Valenwood expedition, citing his experience with the Legion and desire to bring the justice of Stendarr to Akhar
Personality: Wearing his world-weariness like a badge of (dis)honor, Tertullian is a man who has very little patience for the trials and tribulations of life, and even less for your petty problems. Born a soft-skinned Imperial, life has hardened him by sheer necessity, and he's learned that the best way to move forward in life is to simply tank the blows and hide your pain, saving it and squirreling it away for later when you have the time to bleed and cry. Never let down your guard down emotionally or physically, or you'll be maimed, killed, or damned to Oblivion by some daedra.
And the daedra. Oh by the Nine, the daedra. He's seen even good men fall prey to their wickedness and has witnessed horrors that'd make most Imperials shrivel up into a mewling husk. But not Tertullian. He has honed himself like a blade to be used towards fulfilling a single purpose. Smite evil. Slay the beasts, banish the daedra, hunt the witches and the werewolves, the vampires and the undead. Polished with pain and hate, he pursues that goal with bloody singlemindedness in the name of Stendarr, gripping his sword no matter what injuries he might sustain or what hurdles he might have to overcome. Even his own life is no unfair price to pay in pursuit of Stendarr's justice and mercy, for he is a man who has long since stopped clinging to things like the rattling chains of feeble mortality. No matter how much of him is chipped away, that much will remain. Even when hate itself has been extinguished, he will continue to fight.
Victory or death, and preferably both. That is the only way forward for Tertullian the Sojourner, Tertullian the Unfeathered, Tertullian the Crippled and Beaten, the Lame and the Zealous. Fight however you can, and fight well, until you, like a well-worn blade, break under stress and your purpose on Nirn is at last fulfilled. That is the destiny of a man whose only real truth is the sting of the blade.
Skills: -Restoration: Tertullian spent most of his time at the College studying Restoration magic to heal his crippled body, and thus knows a variety of wards and healing spells, as well as spells to turn back and banish the undead. While he gets the most mileage out of wards and anti-undead spells, Tertullian is a Vigilant above all else, and will not shy away from offering his services as a healer to those in need of Stendarr's mercy. He is an expert in the field, and can heal things bruises, abrasions and shallow wounds in an eyeblink. Tertullian can even mend broken bones without additional assistance from any other healers. A rare skill indeed, but such a feat is still a difficult thing for anyone to do and can take hours of intensive care requiring uninterrupted concentration depending on the severity of the break, making it inapplicable in combat or survival situations. He is, in theory, capable of reattaching freshly-severed digits and even limbs, but can do little for the high risk of infection such a delicate and untested procedure would present in a hostile environment like Valenwood. -Alteration: Though never the primary focus of his magical studies, Tertullian did pick up Alteration after sufficient teaching in Restoration revealed to him that there are just some wounds even magic can't heal. Since learning this, he's applied his study of Alteration to mostly the practical aspects, such as hardening his flesh against attackers and strengthening his body to compensate for old injuries. He can also detect the presence of life and the living dead, a skill he considered to be tertiary to the goals of his studies but also too valuable to ignore. -Swordsmanship: Ever since his injuries left him unable to swing a broadsword at full strength like he could in the days of his youth, Tertullian has favored nimbler, lighter blades which require more elegance and finesse than brute strength. His current weapon, which has been with him for six years, is a sword of Akaviri make and model, forged in the style of the Blades. Whether the sword is the genuine article or just a cheap knockoff is unknown to Tertullian, and frankly of little importance. Its weight and style suit him, that's all that matters. Equipment: WIP Other: WIP
Hopefully this is enough to point out any immediately obvious problems. I was trying to go for some combination of Guts and Isran (I repeat: he really hates those fucking daedra) with a splash of samurai and ronin tropes thrown in. Hopefully it isn't too cliche or anything.
Also, I can dial back the healing if you want. I was trying to bring it across that this guy is an expert (from having tried most of the techniques he knows on himself), but the more I look at it, it is starting to seem like a bit much...
@Turboshitter The fact that several hours of uninterrupted channeling is necessary to mend broken bones means he still adheres to my rules, especially because he doesn't seem to be great at anything else.
@Turboshitter The fact that several hours of uninterrupted channeling is necessary to mend broken bones means he still adheres to my rules, especially because he doesn't seem to be great at anything else.
Okay cool. Anything else jump out at you or will you need to see the finished sheet first?
I sense some friction between Balen and Do'ava coming this way.
I highly doubt that part about Balen would ever come up, given the whole 'new person' thing - that, and he was a pretty functional addict. He only quit because he heard that the Great Fire had started in a skooma den.