Name: Alaron Baird
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Race: Imperial
Birthsign: The Tower
Appearance: Alaron is a taller individual standing at about 6'1". He has short black hair and a face worn and battered looking somewhat malnourished. He wears a long brown scarf around his neck, bringing it up to cover his face during illegal activities. Over his should he drapes a large leather coat with fur shoulders. Once a fine prize from a burglary of a nobleman's home, now worn and blackened from rough use and mistreatment. Simple loose brown trousers and worn out leather boots complete his common thug attire.
Biography: Alaron was born unto a simple life beginning in Chorrol. Son to a blacksmith and a barmaid, life seemed completely ordinary from afar. However, as one crept closer to their quiet family home cracks and fractures in the young man's early years became like beacons of trauma left unaddressed and untreated as the boy grew into a man.
Alaron's early and teenage years in Chorrol were a blur of arguments, violent outbursts, and feelings of vulnerability. His mother and father seemed disinterested in raising him as a child and preferred to argue and fight rather than take the time to send him to school, let alone pay for any supplies he would need for the activity. His earliest memories were of watching their arguments escalate to the point of coming to blows. Both combatants could be considered equally matched given their use of tactics. His father preferred brute strength, often simply beating his mother into submission. His mother preferred quick reflexes and agility, tiring the old man out then slashing wildly at him with knives and other objects. These bouts were as even as they could be given the circumstances and though the victor would have been anybody's guess, the only spectator cowered in his room. Forever terrified of the chance that he be pulled into the ring with them.
It didn't take long for Alaron to seek a form of escape from his home life during his teenage years. Missing the opportunity to acquire friends from school he fell in with the street folk. Beggars, addicts, thieves, and thugs became his companions if one could call them such a thing. They took advantage of his desire for acceptance and praise, particularly the thugs and thieves. Alaron was tasked with causing distractions, pickpocketing, and spying for the thieves in particular. Eventually this arrangement blossomed into a sort of tutorship and Alaron became adept in the covert arts of breaking and entering, lockpicking, smoothtalking, and scouting. By the time he was 20 Alaron had left his life in Chorrol behind and moved to the Imperial City.
Within a few years he had made contact with various fences and crime lords in the Imperial City. He was never particularly close to any of them as they all saw him as just another amateur, but Alaron would occasionally run the odd errand for them and established enough contacts within the city so as he could make a career from stealing and raiding as a freelancer.
For the most part Alaron kept the scope of his operations small. Pickpocketing, some burglary, and the odd mugging when his prey was weak and feeble made for enough coin to keep his stomach full and pay the rent. However after a few years there came a time when Alaron's ambition outweighed his skill. Working off a tip Alaron attempted to break into an Imperial Government building under the knowledge that a sizeable portion of the city's annual taxes were bring stored there for a time.
With adept fingers and feather-like footsteps he weaved his way through the building determined to attain his prize. Foolishly he went in without knowledge of the building's layout and frantically began picking the labyrinth of doors that lined the halls looking for the fabled safe room. Glittering gold twinkled in his mind to the point of obsession, causing him to lose track of time. Time felt as though it had only progressed a few brief hours before Alaron felt the cold steel of the morning shift's guard tap his bony shoulder.
The tax office had been a bust, and he later learned no tax money had been stored there, only records. City watch had him under lock and key and with his tools stripped away from him, he had no escape. After a few weeks in prison word had traveled of his thorough locksmithing job at the tax office and he was approached in his cell by 2 strangers. They explained that they could use someone with his skills but needed some additional leverage to help his case and secure his freedom. A bargain was made that if Alaron agreed to give up some information on the Imperial City's crime syndicate to the town watch the 2 strangers would pull strings and produce a pardon for him. Alaron would also be required to perform tasks for his rescuers in exchange for protection given his betrayal to the criminal underworld.
Over the next few months Alaron's freedom was eventually granted and he began work for his new employers, whom revealed themselves to be members of the Penitus Oculatus. Alaron was tasked with breaking into the homes of high ranking government officials believed to be spies for the Thalmor and collect any relevant evidence on them.
As far as the tasks were concerned everything went smoothly. Alaron aided in identifying a Thalmor spy with damning evidence, namely letters divulging classified information. He stayed in a safe house just outside the city with other Penitus Oculatus agents and on the surface things were going well. However not shortly after his triumphant feeling of freedom from a city watch prison cell the slow decay of paranoia began to worm its way into his mind. While on assignment Alaron walked the city streets in terrified silence, eyes darting sporadically as he watched for any hitmen out for his blood. He began lacing his pipe tobacco with moon sugar in an attempt to calm his nerves and reward him with much needed sleep. Again he felt trapped as he did with the city watch, only now his jailers were also his protectors.
Just as his feelings of terror felt as though they would consume him at any moment another escape was offered. A man came to the safe house requesting an audience with him. Hector Sibassius, an officer of the Penitus Oculatus was putting together a group to embark on an expedition to Valenwood. Alaron hardly cared for the details and cared only for the opportunity to be as far away from his pursuers as possible. His exploits and talents in the fine arts of stealth and lockpicking had brought ruin to his life. Now with Hector's proposal to consider, they may be the key to his salvation as well.
Personality: On the exterior Alaron is confident and abrasive. Raised from a life of witnessing abuse and aggression he attempts to coerce others into doing what he wants. He is the epitome of a bully, but with that title comes the inherit flip side of the coin. Alaron preys on the weak and only the weak. When confronted by anyone even moderately more threatening than him Alaron will shy away from confrontation and will even cower if given a solid push.
These traits are only further accentuated in a combat situation. If the situation comes to blows, blades, or bows Alaron will remain confident so long as his opponent is is barely within shouting distance. However with every step closer Alaron's panic grows to the point of tremors should a fight come to an arm's length.
Skills:Alaron's greatest strengths are his skills in lockpicking and stealth.
He can usually talk his way out a difficult situation and is a decent shot with a bow, but not a marksman by any means.
He fumbles with blades and would struggle to do a chin up unless his life depended on it.
Equipment: Naturally Alaron carries with him a high quality set of lockpicks. A long dagger is kept strapped to his belt, more for show and intimidation than anything else. He also carries a simple short bow and small quiver of arrows strapped across his back should he need to keep an attacker at a comfortable distance.
For the expedition Alaron decided to go the extra mile and come prepared with equipment that suited his major strengths. During the time he had to prepare he wasn't made aware of exactly where he might be asked to go, be it and esteemed nobleman's house or a forgotten tomb. In the event of the latter he decided to bring some extra fine sand should he need scout for traps and pressure plates. For the former he decided to make one last trip into the Imperial City for a spare pair of boots, outsoles fitted with very fine, extra soft leather for the lightest step possible. Lastly his trusty tobacco pipe and a small pouch of moon sugar.