Name: Pharis

Race: Bosmer

Gender: Male

Appearance: Pharis stands at 5'4, as Bosmeri males are normally short, with a slim, lean frame and an athletic physique. His skin is a dark biege tone, a few scars darting his body from his more vicious hunts. Pharis's long hair is a dark brown color, tied into a tail, and his eyes are a maroon color, sporting a short beard. He has the habit of using dried blood as facepaint, painting four horizontal lines on the sides of his cheek (with two on each side).

Personality: Pharis is a mostly quiet individual who tends to keep to himself at times. This stems from his times living as a hunter, and him now being a fugitive. This doesn't mean he's antisocial, however, and is actually a quite friendly person when approached and conversed with, once suspicions have been calmed down.
Pharis has strong ties to Valenwood traditions, being raised in a community that practices the teachings of Y'ffre. As such, Pharis follows the Green Pact, to some respect, swearing not to harm or consume any vegetation or plant life. He doesn't mind if others give him items manufactured from such material so long as it wasn't made from the plant life of the Valenwood. He also doesn't see things such as fungi as "plant-life" and will happily consume or otherwise utilize such materials. As far as cannibalism goes, he only feeds on the remains those who he believes are "worthy foes," only fasting himself before a battle if he knows there will be such opposition he will face. He also practices this because he knows well enough how many others see cannibalism, and won't practice such in front of others... most of the time, at least.
While he is a mostly friendly person, Pharis does sport a rather quick temper to certain things. Those who do not respect his pact with Y'ffre or consider his beliefs "barbaric" aggravate him the most. This does not mean he treats all those who believe his beliefs are strange with outright hostility. He only wishes that others treat his beliefs with respect. As a result, Pharis harbors a seething hatred for the Thalmor, who burned down his clanhouse and who believe his people are savages.

Birthsign: The Warrior

Skills:
Major: Archery, Stealth, Evasion, Survival, Athletics
Minor: Tanning, Alchemy, Trapping, Fletching/Bowmaking, Close-Quarters (Dagger)

Equipment: Pharis sports Leather Armor, crafted by himself, reinforced with bits of bone. The armor is tied together tightly to minimize noise made. Pharis also wears a Black Wolf Hide Cloak, using it both as a means to keep warm and to help him skulk around in the woods, or within the shadows.
For weapons, Pharis carries a Laminated Bone Shortbow, a prized possession of his, as well as 25 Bone Arrows, fletched by himself. In case his opponents get too close, or for when he's gathering the meat and skins of his recently hunted quarry, Pharis has a Bone Dagger sheathed in his boot.

Brief History: Pharis was born in Valenwood, and like most Bosmer, was raised in the teachings of Y'ffre. Known as the most talented of the young hunters from his small community, Pharis became a sort of local celebrity. Word of this went to a Thalmor outpost, who believed he would serve the Aldmeri Dominion well if drafted. A Thalmor agent approached Pharis and proposed thet he would serve well in the coming war. Pharis refused politely, saying that he'd prefer to stay and continue providing for his clan. For some reason, the Thalmor agent was angry at his reply, but accepted it regardless. A few days later, on his return from his daily hunt, he found that his clanhouse had been burned down. He was then approached by the Thalmor agent again, this time with an entourage, who told him that he doesn't have a clan to worry about anymore, and as such, there's nothing holding him back from joining the Dominion's standing army. Enraged from this attack, Pharis shot an arrow through the Thalmor's eye, killing him before escaping the Thalmor's grasps. Now, as a fugitive of the Dominion, Pharis seeks a way to get his full vengeance on the Thalmor and eliminate their hold on Valenwood, so he could return to his homeland once more.

Name: Korja, AKA Burns-His-Foes
Race: Argonian
Gender: Male
Appearance: A bright red-skinned Argonian with a head rather reminiscent of an iguana- though he has a pair of large, curled horns he gets from his mother's side of the family. He's quite stocky, which thankfully makes spending most of his day in his heavily singed steel armor more bearable.
Personality: There is a stereotype of a mad wizard. Cackling, bellowing, using his powers to subvert or destroy others for personal gain. Well, two out of three isn't bad- Burns is one of the few Argonians who have learned to express joy by laughter. Of course, he's also the kind of guy who really likes fire spells- hence his name. He believes that any problem can be solved with a sufficiently large explosion. Actually a pretty mellow guy when he's not in the zone.
Birthsign: The Mage
Skills: Destruction, Heavy Armor, Enchanting, Hand-To-Hand, Mysticism
Equipment: Steel Armor
Brief History: An Argonian born in Black Marsh, his talents for Destruction magic were apparent at a young age. The closest options for magic tuition were the Arcane University in the Imperial City- in the middle of political turmoil as always- or the Mage's Guild of Morrowind- the homeland of the Argonians' most ancient enemy, the Dunmer. So, messages were sent to Burns's uncle, the owner of a fishing trawler in Skyrim, who passed them along to the College of Winterhold. It was quite unusual, but anyone who could cast Enemies Explode by 18 would be an asset to the College. So Burns was sent to the frozen north to receive academic instruction in the arcane arts- though, as ever, he displayed an affinity for Destruction above all other skills. He took in a goat he found on the mountainside, kept to his studies, avoided making remarks about dunmer or altmer students (usually), and spent plenty of time at the tavern. Oh, also, he met the empereror. After a night of drinking following a successful test of the spellmaking altar he'd ordered from the Imperial City, he staggered back to the college, hearing that- as he had repeatedly told everyone- Ancano was a Thalmor spy. Well, he did what he could to help, settling for bombarding the barrier with low-end destruction spells to try and whittle down Ancano's power. Well, for all the good it did, that mess was cleared up by the emperor.

Burns has spent the past ten years continuing his studies in Winterhold, hoping to make a grand breakthrough in spellmaking- though with a former archmage's letter, now bearing the imperial seal, he- and his goat- have been called back into action.