Thank you for your last letter. I received it in good order. I'm glad to learn that you are still well. Tell Julia that I am sorry I could not be there for the birth of her child. I look forward to reading what he will be named. Hector, perhaps? I promise to visit at least once before he has learned to swing a sword.
As for your inquiry about my current activities, father, I have good news. One of the local hunters has found the entrance to an undisturbed ancient Nordic tomb. It is well-known that the ancient Nords used to bury all manner of valuables with their honored dead, so this is a promising lead. I have met several like-minded and capable individuals who have agreed to come with me to explore the tomb and recover what we can. You would like one of them, I believe; a Dark Elf by name of Balen Oril. He is a scholar of history and told me he used to run a book shop. There is also Breton healer with us, a woman named Raelynn, whom Ibram would most certainly fall in love with.
We set off tomorrow. I will write you another letter with my findings when we return.
Give everyone my love. Yours faithfully, Hector Sibassius
- High fantasy adventure that takes place on the continent of Tamriel. - Characters are experienced wanderers from various walks of life that have recently joined forces to tackle bigger quests, with only one objective: gold. - The timeline is set one year after the appearance (and, after defeating Alduin, Lord Harkon and Miraak, subsequent disappearance) of the Dragonborn, namely 4E202. The Stormcloak rebellion ended in favor of the Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion and the Empire are still at peace, though tensions are high. For convenience's sake, Titus Mede II is still alive. - All modern Tamrielic races are accepted (Altmer, Bosmer, Dunmer, Orsimer, Breton, Imperial, Nord, Redguard, Khajiit and Argonian). No extinct races or Akaviri races. - We will play experienced adventurers, but not godlike warriors or archmages. Materials like ebony and glass are too expensive for our characters to afford (for now), and nobody is a Master of Destruction. Err on the side of humility. - I have high standards, despite the recent dilution of the quality in Advanced. Character sheets will be accepted based on merit alone, not 'first come first serve'.
Welcome to Swords & Septims
So, as you may have guessed, we're going to be adventurers. Not assassins of the Dark Brotherhood, or thieves from the Thieves Guild, or Companions; we are all independent operators that are just in it for the money. Maybe you were previously contracted to the Fighter's Guild, but not any more. Perhaps you learned your magecraft in Winterhold, but you are not a member of that College any longer. You are an adventurer!
And now you're part of a group. The characters have only met once before in Falkreath where they decided to band together and follow a lead from a local hunter that found a hidden tomb in the forest. We're going to pretend the Nerevarine, Champion of Cyrodiil and Dragonborn haven't single-handedly cleared their respective provinces of everything valuable, so that there are still undisturbed and undiscovered locations left for us.
At first, we're simply going to delve into a dungeon and see what happens. I have a few ideas for greater, overarching storylines if this roleplay goes anywhere long-term, but those aren't relevant just yet. Focus on having your characters get to know each other, developing respect or rivalries, while fighting side-by-side and back-to-back.
If you find your own knowledge of the Elder Scrolls world falling short, I invite you to use uesp.net (the Unofficial Elder Scrolls Pages) as a resource. I use it myself, so even if it's wrong, we'll be similarly misinformed.
Rules
- Sort your squabbles out in private. If you persistently disagree with another player or they're grieving you, involve me. If necessary, I will smite you myself. - No godmodding (controlling someone else's character). Obviously. - Real life creeps up on everybody and sometimes you just don't feel like, or don't have the time to churn out a lengthy, quality post. That is fine, but try to post something just to keep things moving at least once every fortnight. - One character per player. - My decisions are final. - If you've read all these rules and agree to them, include the word 'Marne' somewhere in your character sheet.
Character Sheet
Submit your characters in a hider in the OOC tab. Accepted characters can be posted in the Characters tab later.
Name: Your character's name. Keep it appropriate to your chosen race; I don't want to see any Khajiit named Charles. Include any optional nicknames. Age: The lifespan of Men and the beast races corresponds with our own. Elves live longer but not by a huge margin unless they're excellent sorcerers, which none of our characters are. Gender: Male or female. Race: One of the sapient Tamrielic races. Appearance: A written description of your character's appearance is mandatory. Pictures are optional.
Personality: What kind of person is your character and how do they interact with others? Remember, they have already agreed to work with others in a group, so a morose, cynical lone wolf isn't going to work.
History: Describe your character's life. I don't need the exact details of their childhood, or an extensive account of all their previous adventures, but be comprehensive. Give me three solid paragraphs, at least.
Skills: Here you explain to me what your character is good at. Every character can have two Major skills and three Minor skills. Major skills are their specialty and your character's main contribution to the party. Minor skills are something your character knows how to do but is decidedly average in. All of the skills that have been in the games since Morrowind are fair game, including stuff like Spear, Medium Armor and Mysticism. Please describe how your character uses the skill in question -- if they are a swordsman do they practice a defensive, robust style or are they instead a duelist with a rapier? What kind of potions can an alchemist brew? Which types of spells do the mages know?
Major: - Skill name here: description here. -
Minor: - - -
Equipment: What do they bring with them on an adventure? Remember, err on the side of humility. Our characters aren't necessarily poor, but they aren't rich either. The first person to mention 'daedric' gets lynched.
Birthsign:"Very good. The letter that preceded mentioned you were born under a certain sign. And what would that be?"
Miscellaneous: Anything you want to mention but haven't been able to cover yet.
@Hank Seems like this place could fit my (slightly altered) character from my currently ongoing Skyrim Let's Play. Say, what do we think of Dawnguard? How did that whole ordeal end? Lord Harkon is gone, but how is the general situation looking? The most amusing thing would be if the vampires had won there, since then he would've been on the losing side in both the Civil War and the Vampire menace :P But since Harkon and the Dragonborn are gone, it wouldn't make too much sense for the vampires to continue being the greater force, no?
Appearance: Skall is one of the most stereotypical Nords one could hope to meet in all of Skyrim. A towering giant of a man, he stands head shoulders above lesser men and his chest is broad with rippling muscle. His arms are as large as tree trunks and end in great shovel like hands. A long tangled mane of golden hair spills down his powerful back, interwoven with braids and locks. Much of his wide face is covered with a great bristling beard and moustache of similar colour.
His face is large and square, mostly taken up by features that would seem monstrous on the visage of any other man, but curiously seem to make a somewhat cohesive whole on Skall's own face. The brow is low and thunderous, the nose like the prow of some titanic ship, each nostril capable of inhaling small passing songbirds. His lips are full and red, and pull back to reveal a smile that could comfortably sit in a draught horse's mouth. Skall's left cheek is adorned with a spiralling blue tattoo of a Nord Berserker, it trails down onto his corded neck and there joins a myriad of other tattoos that adorn his whole body.
Invariably Skall dresses in thick furs, often leaving his arms or chest exposed to show off his impressive physique. Around his wrists and on his neck are torcs of wrought gold, depicting animals twisting and swirling around each other. On his back he wears the pelt of a bear, its flayed head sometimes serving as a hood in cold weather.
Personality: Heroic. Noble. Glorious. These are all the things Skall wishes to be. Unfortunately his own behaviour is somewhat less inspiring than this. He is a drunken lout with more brawn than brains with an indignant temperament and a crude sense of humour. He has a fierce temper when he perceives someone is mocking him or has slighted him. He also struggles with discipline and self control, especially when it comes to money - Skall will happily eat and drink himself out of a fortune.
This is not to say that Skall isn't a good person. He knows right from wrong and will most often err on the side of good. However, his fondness for drink and his general lack of wit generally prevents him from acting in the way he aspires to. He is generally affable to those who do right by him and don't make fun of him. Fortunately for those around him, Skall is more of a merry drunk than a particularly angry one. He has a curious soft spot for older women, he was very attached to his mother as a child.
History: Skall was born and raised in Rorikstead in Whiterun hold by his mother, called Marne, who worked as a farm hand in the fields there. From an early age he was larger and stronger than almost all the other children in the village, but was of a relatively sweet and gentle temperament. He was raised on the stories of Skyrim's great heroes: Hakon One-Eye, Ulfgar the Unending, Felldir the Old, and most of, Ysgramor who let the Atmorans across the sea to Tamriel. It was at this age that Skall decided that he too would be a great Nord hero, a warrior of wondrous repute and fame. The problem was how was he to do so? Skall had naught but the equipment of a farm hand to train with, so he made do, and picked up the wood-axe.
He became stronger and stronger over the years as he learned to swing his axe with deadly precision and tremendous power. None in all of the Whiterun hold could split logs thicker and more gnarled than Skall of Rorikstead he boasted. One day, when he was come of age he made the long journey to Jorrvaskr to try out for the legendary guild of fighters, The Companions. But it was late by the time he arrived at the city and so Skall made his way to tavern, something he was most unfamiliar with coming from such a small and rural holding like Rorikstead. It was here that Skall was introduced to the world of intoxicating liquor, and his life was forever changed.
The next morning he had awoke with a dull and throbbing head, sprawled in a pile of sick and sawdust that was strewn across the floor. He had overslept. When he rushed to the hall of The Companions he found them hard at training. They laughed at this slow boy, clumsy with drink and stained in a night's shameful revelry. They laughed him out of Whiterun and all the way back to Rorikstead.
But Skall was not deterred. He gave up on joining the ranks of The Companions, but they weren't the only way one could become a hero in Skyrim. First he went to Solitude, to try and become of the warrior-bards that did great deeds and wrote songs about them. But Skall had no talent for writing poetry and making sweet music, so he was laughed out of Solitude as well. Then he tried his hand at soldiering, serving as a guard in Morthal and Dawnstar. By this time though he had developed a reliance upon his drinking as a method of coping with social situations and his shame. He would show up drunk for duty and oversleep before his shifts. He was swiftly dismissed. It was around this time he acquired his moniker, Skall the Thirsty.
When the civil war came to Skyrim Skall when to Eastmarch to enlist in the ranks of Ulfric Stormcloak. For a while he excelled, as by now he was a competent fighter and had a great capacity for bravery and boldness. But as always, his fondness for mead got in the way, and after sleeping through one too many Skirmishes, he was dismissed once more. Since the war Skall has been somewhat aimless, wondering and adventuring on his own when he can, making ends meet by doing manual labour and foresting when he can't.
Skills:
Major: - Two handed: Skall can use his immense strength in combination with the added leverage of two handed weaponry to deliver devasting blows that can cleave through flesh and bone like butter. His great height and the increased length of these two handed weapons also give him a reach advantage over almost all of his opponents. - Axe: The axe is Skall's preferred choice of weapon. It is versatile, being able to hack, slash, hook and deliver powerful blows that can damage armour and break bones. It also comes in useful in a variety of other ways - such as finding employment chopping logs or felling trees when adventuring isn't going so well.
Minor: - Light Armour: Acquiring some skill in light armour and its use was inevitable considering Skall's long term use of it. However, his style of fighting makes it clear he believes strongly in the maxim that a strong offence is the greatest defence. - Blunt: Fighting with blunt weapons is quite similar to fighting with axes, but easier in many ways. However, since Skall does not prefer to fight using this method if he can, he is no master of it. - Unarmed: You can't be in as many drunken tavern brawls as Skall without learning to throw a decent punch.
Equipment: In battle Skall carries his trusted Iron Battleaxe and wears his fur armour. He has an iron dagger for carrying out everyday tasks. A large flagon filled with mead or ale almost invariably hangs at his side, along with a cloth sack filled with roasted meat or cheese. The only luxury item Skall carries is a small goatskin drum. Most of his wealth is tied up in the torcs, as evidenced where he had to chip some metal off them in the past to pay his way.
Birthsign: The Warrior
Miscellaneous: Skall believes himself to be a bard and likes to compose and perform terrible skaldic poetry, loudly banging tunelessly on a drum while doing so.
Appearance: Skall is one of the most stereotypical Nords one could hope to meet in all of Skyrim. A towering giant of a man, he stands head shoulders above lesser men and his chest is broad with rippling muscle. His arms are as large as tree trunks and end in great shovel like hands. A long tangled mane of golden hair spills down his powerful back, interwoven with braids and locks. Much of his wide face is covered with a great bristling beard and moustache of similar colour.
His face is large and square, mostly taken up by features that would seem monstrous on the visage of any other man, but curiously seem to make a somewhat cohesive whole on Skall's own face. The brow is low and thunderous, the nose like the prow of some titanic ship, each nostril capable of inhaling small passing songbirds. His lips are full and red, and pull back to reveal a smile that could comfortably sit in a draught horse's mouth. Skall's left cheek is adorned with a spiralling blue tattoo of a Nord Berserker, it trails down onto his corded neck and there joins a myriad of other tattoos that adorn his whole body.
Invariably Skall dresses in thick furs, often leaving his arms or chest exposed to show off his impressive physique. Around his wrists and on his neck are torcs of wrought gold, depicting animals twisting and swirling around each other. On his back he wears the pelt of a bear, its flayed head sometimes serving as a hood in cold weather.
Personality: Heroic. Noble. Glorious. These are all the things Skall wishes to be. Unfortunately his own behaviour is somewhat less inspiring than this. He is a drunken lout with more brawn than brains with an indignant temperament and a crude sense of humour. He has a fierce temper when he perceives someone is mocking him or has slighted him. He also struggles with discipline and self control, especially when it comes to money - Skall will happily eat and drink himself out of a fortune.
This is not to say that Skall isn't a good person. He knows right from wrong and will most often err on the side of good. However, his fondness for drink and his general lack of wit generally prevents him from acting in the way he aspires to. He is generally affable to those who do right by him and don't make fun of him. Fortunately for those around him, Skall is more of a merry drunk than a particularly angry one. He has a curious soft spot for older women, he was very attached to his mother as a child.
History: Skall was born and raised in Rorikstead in Whiterun hold by his mother, called Marne, who worked as a farm hand in the fields there. From an early age he was larger and stronger than almost all the other children in the village, but was of a relatively sweet and gentle temperament. He was raised on the stories of Skyrim's great heroes: Hakon One-Eye, Ulfgar the Unending, Felldir the Old, and most of, Ysgramor who let the Atmorans across the sea to Tamriel. It was at this age that Skall decided that he too would be a great Nord hero, a warrior of wondrous repute and fame. The problem was how was he to do so? Skall had naught but the equipment of a farm hand to train with, so he made do, and picked up the wood-axe.
He became stronger and stronger over the years as he learned to swing his axe with deadly precision and tremendous power. None in all of the Whiterun hold could split logs thicker and more gnarled than Skall of Rorikstead he boasted. One day, when he was come of age he made the long journey to Jorrvaskr to try out for the legendary guild of fighters, The Companions. But it was late by the time he arrived at the city and so Skall made his way to tavern, something he was most unfamiliar with coming from such a small and rural holding like Rorikstead. It was here that Skall was introduced to the world of intoxicating liquor, and his life was forever changed.
The next morning he had awoke with a dull and throbbing head, sprawled in a pile of sick and sawdust that was strewn across the floor. He had overslept. When he rushed to the hall of The Companions he found them hard at training. They laughed at this slow boy, clumsy with drink and stained in a night's shameful revelry. They laughed him out of Whiterun and all the way back to Rorikstead.
But Skall was not deterred. He gave up on joining the ranks of The Companions, but they weren't the only way one could become a hero in Skyrim. First he went to Solitude, to try and become of the warrior-bards that did great deeds and wrote songs about them. But Skall had no talent for writing poetry and making sweet music, so he was laughed out of Solitude as well. Then he tried his hand at soldiering, serving as a guard in Morthal and Dawnstar. By this time though he had developed a reliance upon his drinking as a method of coping with social situations and his shame. He would show up drunk for duty and oversleep before his shifts. He was swiftly dismissed. It was around this time he acquired his moniker, Skall the Thirsty.
When the civil war came to Skyrim Skall when to Eastmarch to enlist in the ranks of Ulfric Stormcloak. For a while he excelled, as by now he was a competent fighter and had a great capacity for bravery and boldness. But as always, his fondness for mead got in the way, and after sleeping through one too many Skirmishes, he was dismissed once more. Since the war Skall has been somewhat aimless, wondering and adventuring on his own when he can, making ends meet by doing manual labour and foresting when he can't.
Skills:
Major: - Two handed: Skall can use his immense strength in combination with the added leverage of two handed weaponry to deliver devasting blows that can cleave through flesh and bone like butter. His great height and the increased length of these two handed weapons also give him a reach advantage over almost all of his opponents. - Axe: The axe is Skall's preferred choice of weapon. It is versatile, being able to hack, slash, hook and deliver powerful blows that can damage armour and break bones. It also comes in useful in a variety of other ways - such as finding employment chopping logs or felling trees when adventuring isn't going so well.
Minor: - Light Armour: Acquiring some skill in light armour and its use was inevitable considering Skall's long term use of it. However, his style of fighting makes it clear he believes strongly in the maxim that a strong offence is the greatest defence. - Blunt: Fighting with blunt weapons is quite similar to fighting with axes, but easier in many ways. However, since Skall does not prefer to fight using this method if he can, he is no master of it. - Unarmed: You can't be in as many drunken tavern brawls as Skall without learning to throw a decent punch.
Equipment: In battle Skall carries his trusted Iron Battleaxe and wears his fur armour. He has an iron dagger for carrying out everyday tasks. A large flagon filled with mead or ale almost invariably hangs at his side, along with a cloth sack filled with roasted meat or cheese. The only luxury item Skall carries is a small goatskin drum. Most of his wealth is tied up in the torcs, as evidenced where he had to chip some metal off them in the past to pay his way.
Birthsign: The Warrior
Miscellaneous: Skall believes himself to be a bard and likes to compose and perform terrible skaldic poetry, loudly banging tunelessly on a drum while doing so.
Looks like a fun character to have around. Simple concept but there's nothing wrong with that. I'd like you to go over the sheet one more time and get rid of the spelling errors, then you can post big ol' Skall in the Characters tab (without a hider).
By the way, is his axe a dedicated firewood axe or is he just brute-forcing it into acting like one? I've been informed that ordinary battleaxes made to be used in combat can't chop wood.
Looks like a fun character to have around. Simple concept but there's nothing wrong with that. I'd like you to go over the sheet one more time and get rid of the spelling errors, then you can post big ol' Skall in the Characters tab (without a hider).
By the way, is his axe a dedicated firewood axe or is he just brute-forcing it into acting like one? I've been informed that ordinary battleaxes made to be used in combat can't chop wood.
Yeah that's correct, battle axes are generally speaking thinner and lighter than wood chopping axes, although you probably can do some lighter woodworking with them. Skall is using a true battle axe, if I do end up splitting logs at some point during the RP I will make sure I use an appropriate tool.
EDIT: I was actually going to make a point of it in my C.S. but didn't because I wanted to keep it relatively brief, but the fact that he trained with a woodaxe rather than a proper fighting axe is also one of the reasons Skall failed his attempt to join the Companions.
With the amount of people already having expressed interest and working on sheets (@Jbcool included) we're now at risk of becoming a bloated party. This means I am currently no longer looking for new applicants, as I have faith in the people that have already posted here/been invited by me to deliver solid character sheets. If you, dear reader, are still interested, leave a comment in this thread and I'll shoot a message your way if a spot opens up in the future.
Vampires are indeed no longer a major menace, @Hekazu. The Dawnguard still roots them out wherever they hide but all-out attacks on towns and villages have ceased since the death of Lord Harkon.
EDIT: Female characters are extra welcome right now, by the way. Diversity quotas don't exist in Tamriel but I'm still a fan of mixed gender adventuring parties.
EDIT: Female characters are extra welcome right now, by the way. Diversity quotas don't exist in Tamriel but I'm still a fan of mixed gender adventuring parties.
If I get time for this, my character will likely have arrows and also be female so you don't have to worry.
Ah, okay. Feel free to finish your CS and post it here, wouldn't want the work you've already put in it to go to waste without being given a chance.
I listed it as a rule in the OOC's first post but I'll reiterate it here to prevent any disappointment: I may not accept all of your characters if we end up with more applications than I'm comfortable handling, at least in the first act. We may expand the scope of the party/roleplay in the future but I want to start with a small/medium group until we've found our groove.
Appearance(from head to toe): This Bosmer stands at a proud height of five-feet-and-three-inches (160.02 cm), her life spent in the lush woodlands of her homeland probably having something to do with that, as well as the mixed heritage of Bosmer biology.
Rich locks of auburn hair tumble down from her head to the middle of her back, most commonly either left free or drawn up into a topknot of sorts, autumnal leaves and the feathers of various birds woven into the curls and about her pointed ears, two small but noticeable antlers of bleached bone visible as they poke through fringe of hair on either side of her forehead.
Below this nest of hair and thin brows of a similar colour is a face that has never seen a drop of foreign blood, a curious and expressive visage holding the balanced oddity of Mer features – a face both beautiful to look upon, but equally just as otherworldly; this is no travelling tradesman or mercenary soldier, but the slender and point-chinned face of one who has spent their entire life in Valenwood. Eyes of pure black look out from deep-set sockets, high cheekbones flanking a slender and slightly button nose, a mouth with full but pale lips concealing two rows of pointed teeth behind them, all set into flesh 'Caucasian' in colour but almost constantly daubed with a layer of dirt and grime.
She possesses a graceful and sylphlike form of packed muscle as one progresses lower – her limbs like coiled springs of corded muscle and her overall frame not as 'light' as one might expect from one of the Mer – she is nevertheless broader than her Altmer cousins across the shoulder, and owns the athletic form of one who has spent their entire life in a constant state of exercise and readiness for conflict; life within Valenwood is anything but easy, and she is living proof of this.
One thing that does mark her out from any other lineage of Mer are the various elaborate tattoos and markings patterning her body and face (the facial marking being especially extensive, covering almost any spare flesh) using a method unknown to man, but probably carved into the flesh, causing it to look more like bark if the dye should fade. These designs vary from appearing as the veins of forest leaves, to the swirls and interlocking variations more often seen among the Bosmer peoples than any others of their kindred. These patterns are generally varying hues of green, giving Erissil a more natural camouflage as well as accentuating her already otherworldly look.
She wears nothing upon her hardened feet, capable of walking over most things without damage.
Biography: Born deep in Valenwood, in the densely forested region known as Malabal Tor, to the rightly feared and often avoided Stagshoof tribe, there is actually very little to tell of Erissil or her life before the arrival of Hector Sibassius and his expedition into her homeland. She grew up much like any other Bosmer, taking on the religion of the Green Pact from her extended family and being trained in the use of the bow by her father, learning all that she needed to know to survive; in the end, isn't it always about survival?
She was seventy-six when the Great War of 4E171 began, when the Aldmeri Dominion and the Imperial forces of Emperor Titus Mede II began their drawn out conflict of bloodshed. In spite of Thalmor control of Valenwood – following from three years earlier, when the Dominion had first annexed the 'province' – and some support from the otherwise insular Bosmer, the Stagshoof clan remain as neutral as they can and therefore outside of the worst of the fighting; whether this was due to allegiances or simply because of their isolation from the outside world did not matter.
Time moved along as it did...the Imperial forces beat the Elvish forces back...and Valenwood went on as it always had.
The blood of Bosmer had been spilt though, for not all had remained out of the conflict, and it was only a year before the end of the war that a group of Aldmeri-aligned Bosmer assailed the treetop homes of the Stagshoof clan. It was a somewhat unfair fight, for the terrain and locals knowledge was with the defenders, and by the end of the raid it would appear that the attackers had simply disappeared into the woodlands.
The clan feasted well after that.
Unknowing of faraway things such as the Stormcloak rebellion, the Stagshoof people were nevertheless highly connected to their land, and when an unknown presence entered the forest they were one of the first to feel it in the roots and the air. Something was not right, something had to be done.
It was a gloomy day when an odd Bosmer, one clad in light clothing of an Imperial manufacture and telling tales of faraway lands and the things to be seen and found there, appeared before the clan and wove tales of these places in such a way that could capture not only the imagination but the heart of his listeners.
He assured them it would be to the benefit of them all to send forth one of their own into the world, for better or for worse, for hard times were coming and Valenwood would not always be as isolationist as it now remained.
Much debate was had before Erissil – the first volunteer to step forth, and to take her first steps as an adventurer - was gifted leave to go, the Mother and elders of the clan not particularly happy with her decision - clearly the Imperial Bosmer had learnt how to lie during his time in the Empire.
Unaware of the outside world or the dangers on the other side of her forest home, she now goes to start her new life with an almost childish excitement. What will she learn from others? What will they look like? What do they taste like?
Little did she know, as she made her way into the chill northern lands, that her life was about to change...
Personality: Like most of her kind she is generally affable and welcoming of outsiders, Valenwood having taken in its fair share of strangers in its long existence, although coming from one of the more insular clans she remains wary and cautious – even skittish – around those she has entirely no connection to; adding to this later penchant for observation before interaction is her bare-bones grasp of Tamrielic, what she does speak usually being quite broken and causing others to see her as unintelligent - possibly true in the conventional sense, but animal cunning and almost genius-like improvisational skills usually put that to rest quite quickly!
What probably effects her personality and mental state the most is not her isolation from 'Civilised society', but a long standing religious tradition of those Bosmer who choose to remain in the deep depths of Valenwood, known to the world as the Green Pact. It is this pact with Y'ffre that not only keeps her from devolving back into a more primordial form (hence the presence of antlers growing from her body), but it also causes her to appear more savage than would otherwise be the case.
Eating a slain foe within three days (the so-called Meat Mandate), protecting the flora and fauna of Valenwood, and producing products of non-plant based varieties are just a few of the things – along with a lot of faith – required of the Green Pact Bosmer.
It is a religious belief that Erissil follows to the letter, and those accompanying her should probably be aware of, for if they cause her to break the Pact...then it may well be their carcasses upon her plate.
Skills:
Major:
- Archery/Bow: It is well known in the wide world that the Bosmer are some of, if not the finest archers in all Tamriel. Whether it is something in their blood, a natural part of them, or their upbringing, this is as true with Erissil as any other of her kind. When she uses the bow it is with a skill and fluidity honed from over a century of experience – fast, unerring, and lethal.
- Pathfinder: While there may well be those versed in stealth and subterfuge throughout the world – the Dark Brotherhood being a prime example – within the confines of Valenwood it would be hard to find anyone better than the diminutive inhabitants of the place. Erissil has spent her entire life having to live (some would say cope) in what is essentially the most unsafe 'forest' in Tamriel, a place where to anger the wrong critter or a neighbouring clan could mean your painful end at any moment, something that has affected her development deeply.
Tracking, and path-finding, are things come as second nature to her; do you need an animal ran to ground and bagged? No problem. A throat slit by an unseen assailant in the dead of night, as if they were killed by the jungle itself? Easily done. Need some natural poisons to coat a weapon? Here they are.
Within the brick and thatch confines of a city her skills are expectedly negated by her environment, but adaptability is something in which she excels, even if a large basket or within a layer of thatch is not the perfect place to hide.
Minor: - Duel wielder: Versed in the axe-and-dagger style of Bosmer fighting, she is capable of using two smaller weapons almost as if they were extensions of her limbs. Most commonly this is her hatchet and knife, as she hasn't tried with larger weapons (yet).
- Animal Companionship (Racial Power): There is no magic within her, beside the affinity that all Bosmer seem to have with the creatures of nature, and while she is able to perform many feats that may appear magical to others there is no magic involved beside basic instincts and decades of honing them in the light deprived depths of Malabal Tor. This includes 'connecting' with various creatures of the wild – wolves, bears and more – all sensing within the Bosmer something that more civilised individuals lack, a spirit of the wild perhaps?
- Imitation (Speech): While not an exact mimic, Erissil is capable of copying others in a surprisingly accurate way, whether this is vocal sounds (or 'words' to everyone else) or simply their way of moving, she will study and recite until she gets it right. Maybe not capable of impersonating the Emperor, if you play enough games of cards or chess with her...well...you'd best be prepared to eventually lose.
Equipment: Although the Bosmer are not forbidden to use material such as wool, fibres from fur and flesh, and other such thing, there are those within Valenwood that are more barbarous than others. The Stagshoof clan have never shied away from showing themselves in this more backward light, proud followers of the Green Pact and unconcerned with the outside world unless it comes knocking.
Due to this, Erissil clothes herself in such little clothing that strangers would no doubt find it salacious!
On her lower body there is nothing but a stout belt of woven hide, hanging from it a breechclout crafted from the same creature (the ubiquitous stag that gave the clan its name), squares of hide draped over the front and the back - the cloth winding over the belt, under it, and over it again – but leaving the bare legs free to move as they will.
As one moves higher and follows the line of her firm flesh they shall find the remainder of the animal, a large male by the amount of skin it left over, has been crafted into 'shawl' of sorts – a large piece of the hide able to be wrapped about her shoulders, reaching down to her lower back, an imported brooch of Imperial design used to fasten the two together about her neck; beneath it she wears nothing but a strip of hide to keep everything in place when traversing her home.
At a pinch, and in times of need, she can don loose-fitting robes of gossamer and flax layered over the top of with more sturdy treated leather – these reinforced sections mostly covering her shoulders and around the waist area, but prefers to leave the restrictive clothing for those who need it.
Her armament, such as it is, follows along these lines – her foremost weapon being the ever present bow of her people, a 'short bow' of a recurved design constructed from imported wood and layered with bone, the string made from animal hair. Paired with this is a quiver, worn across the back, containing numerous arrows of varying designs. From the most common arrow, a simple triangular-headed shaft, to bodkin arrows more capable of piercing thick flesh and armour. These tips are usually crafted from bone, although some make use of iron for arrows that would otherwise be unable to penetrate anything more than leather armour.
For closer fighting (which she tends to avoid) as well as general purpose tasks, she carries on her hips – one tucked into her belt and the other in a sheath on the opposite hip - an iron-headed hatchet capable of being thrown or as a melee weapon and a double-edged dagger handled with deer bone.
Lastly are what one would call 'miscellaneous' items – these includes a bone pendant of Y'ffre's symbol that hangs about her neck, and a small pouch at the rear of her belt containing medicinal herbs.
Other: She enjoys mimicry and playing tricks, is a pretty good seamstress with materials she knows, and is eager to learn if a little withdrawn at first.
