Appearance: Compared to the typical Dunmer, Helspar Dalas is less angular. Standing at 1.8m and weighing in at 73kg, some people say he looks more human than elf, and it is not without merit. His eyes are narrow, often concealing his dark red irises. His dark hair grows over his ears, hiding the slight elven tips unless freshly trimmed. Helspar has relatively wide shoulders for his average build. He has a fit physique, but not heavily muscled. Finally, Helspar's hands are callused from working in the wilderness.
Helspar dresses in layers when traveling. Growing up in the warm and moist region of Shadowfen, Heslpar likes to wrap himself snuggly in colder and drier environments. A woolen long coat, scarf, leather gloves and a fur hat are his traveling essentials. To prepare for hostile encounters, Helspar wears a chainmail vest, leather bracers and epaulets. A guar hide quiver, loaded with up to a dozen arrows is slung with his backpack.
Helspar doesn't like to look others in the eye. His gaze will flick around left and right, until settling on an empty area.
Personality: When it comes down to it, Heslpar is a timid and mellow person. However, he appears to be more outgoing and gregarious at first glance. He enjoys the company of jovial crowds, but often takes a backseat and let other do the talking. Helspar is naturally empathetic, often sharing the mood of his companions, whether he likes it or not.
Heslpar solves problems through patience and creativity. He's not a scholar, but likes to analyze difficult situations before pursuing a course of action. Impatience rarely affects Helspar, to the point that some says he's too patient (and not decisive enough). Helspar is aware of the danger of inaction; he tries to make faster decisions, though he frequenly falls back to deliberation.
Unlike many dark elves, Helspar has few prejudices. He believes sentient races are equal for the most part (with some having "peculiar" tendencies). Magic is useful a tool for him; it does not make the wielder superior or sinister. One of the few things Helspar frowns upon is necromancy. Defiling the dead is taboo in both Dunmer and Argonian cultures. Plus, raised corpses smell absolutely putrid.
History:
Helspar was born a decade after the end of the Planemeld. His parents, Dunmers unaffliated with any Great Houses, were soldiers of the Ebonheart Pact. His mother, Derevys, was a scout, while his father, Uvanon, was a healer. They met on the battlefields of Cyrodiil, and upon completing the campaign, had fallen in love with each other. They became engaged and settled down in Stormhold, taking advantage of the Pact's colonization initiatives.
Even though Stormhold was a city directly administered by the Pact (in the form of three vice-canons; Nord, Dunmer and Argonian), the majority of its population remained Argonians. There had been, however, an influx of retired soldiers like Helspar's parents, which caused increasing frustrations among local Argonians. This friction was further exacerbated by the roaming slavers, often abducting lone Argonians for rogue Telvanni or Dres lords.
Initially, Helspar's parents kept him sheltered. They had seen the horrors of war, and wanted their son to take part in no conflict, communal or international. The young Helspar was home-schooled, but he was rarely taught traditional Dunmeri culture. He played in the yard, but only went to the market with parent supervision. As the young Dunmer grew, so did his curiosity. At the age of twelve, his parents realized that his interest in the world could no longer be held. So they allowed Helspar to attend classes with fellow children in Stormhold. The earlier school days were abysmal for Helspar; his sheltered upbringing made him socially-awkward. He didn't get along with Dunmer kids (because he was never raised to believe in the Tribunal) or Arognian kids (because he was not one of them). In addition, Helspar wasn't the fastest learner either.
In his fourteenth year, Uvanon found Derevys sleeping with another man. The ensuing divorce was abrupt; Derevys stormed out of the house and never to be heard from again. Uvanon soon fell apart. Before he was fifteen years old, Helspar saw his father become an alcoholic. The family debt piled up and forced Helspar out of his study. He began running odd jobs to fuel Uvanon's addiction. Three days before Helspar's sixteenth birthday, his father became so miserably drunk to point of choking on his own flin. Helspar ended his father's pitiful life there with a quick knife slash.
Helspar's sixteenth birthday gift was a heavily armored debt collector. There's no money left in the household, so the only way to clear his family debt was slavery. The collector was going haul Helspar to a Dres plantation, until an Argonians intervened. This Argonian was Aca-Itla, an expert hunter that Helspar occasionally worked as a delivery boy for. Aca-Itla killed the collector, not out of pity for Helspar, but because he was one of many increasing brazen slave-snatchers in Shadowfen.
With nowhere left to go and nothing to do, Helspar apprenticed himself to Aca-Itla. Well, it wasn't as much of an apprenticeship as being an underpaid errand runner. He spent two years cleaning up Aca-Itla's shop and delivering around Stormhold. Helspar was only allowed to handle a bow when he reached eighteen years old. He was a horrible shot at first, though Aca-Itla said he had the patience for trapping. By the time he was 24, Helspar had become a mediocre archer and a skilled trapper.
Then, Aca-Itla let Helspar go. Gnarl-Braids, Aca-Itla's nephew, had come from Gideon to study with his uncle. The old hunter had only time for one apprentice, and his family obviously came first. Before sending Helspar off, Aca-Itla gave him a parting gift, a rusty old skinning knife.
Armed with said knife, a rickety short bow and an outdated map, Helspar made his way to Mournhold, the first Dunmer city he had seen. The city was loud, chaotic, and quite frankly, exhausting. Renting an inn room was expensive, and the constant preaching of Tribunal priests made him uncomfortable. So Helspar went to work in a kwama mine. It was not the right kind of work for him. Though he adapted quick to the kwamas, Helspar felt claustrophobic in the depths. After three months, he quit and was on the move again.
Helspar was 25 when he reached Blacklight, the capital of House Redoran. The city was one of the Pact's military strongholds, and everyone there did something related to war. Heslpar didn't involve himself in any of that. He remembered his parents recounting the horrific battles in Cyrodiil, and if there was one thing learned, it was that war would always be bad. So Helspar spent a year washing dishes in the local tavern. In some evenings, he would practice archery on scribs. His shot got better and he would sometimes bring back scrib jelly to sell. One day, a Redoran recruiter noticed him.
They told Helspar how the army needed a sharpshooter like him. Helspar, in return, always smiled and said no. But the recruiters were persistent. If Helspar refused to volunteer, they would conscript him.
Now 26 years of age, Helspar found himself reluctantly getting ready for battle. Pact troops were battling the thanes of Morthal. Helspar honestly couldn't understand why. What he also didn't understand was being pulled from the frontlines two days before an assault. Not long after, he was discharged from the army. He saw a Dunmer woman at the headquarters, someone who looked just like his mother. But before Helspar could approach her, she was gone.
Skyrim was a strange place for Helspar. The cities there weren't as suffocating as those in Morrowind, though its inhabitants were equally as loud, if not louder. Windhelm was too cold for Helspar, so he went south to Riften. Riften was finally a mild enough place to settle down. Lake Honrich provided enough moisture to sooth the skin, while the woods of the Rift were excellent places to unwind. Helspar took up jobs in the fisheries. It was stable enough for him to study alteration at the Mages Guild, and further hone his marksmanship by hunting with the local Undaunted. Helspar even fell in love with a strapping Nord lad, though it was unrequited, since the lad preferred the company of Nord maidens.
It had been seven years in Riften when Helspar received a letter. He had been promoted to supervisor at the fishery, so letters addressed to him were not out of the ordinary. Though the name of the sender was a curious one; Derevys. It was Helspar's mother; she had married a rich (and currently deceased) Nord man in Whiterun, and was dying of rockjoint and witbane. The letter was written by Mitra Battle-Born, the half-sister Helspar never knew existed. At first, Helspar doubted the letter's genuity. After a week of deliberation, and a reluctant consultation with the temple of Mara, Helspar decided to see his mother for the last time, before she passed away.
Turned out, Derevys died in that week of deliberation; Helspar arrived days too late. All that greeted him was his grieving half-sister. Mitra was Dunmer in appearance (like any mother's offspring), but lived and drank mead like a Nord. She would legally be inheriting the estate of her parents, except the officials in Whiterun didn't recognize a "foreigner's" claim and awarded her inheritance to an obscure cousin in Markarth. Mitra was mad, but what really drove her over the edge was the Helspar's presence. In Derevys' final months, she was so delirious that she couldn't even recognize her own daughter. Yet on her death bed, Derevys pleaded to see Helspar. Mitra was jealous; she blamed her loss on Helspar.
Helspar did not know what to say. He had prepared his condolences on his way, but with a frustrated Mitra yelling at him, Helspar was at a loss of words. His apologies were not good enough. Honestly, it wouldn't be good enough should their positions be reversed. Helspar knew what it was like to lose the only family he knew, and left alone in an unwelcoming world. Finally came midnight, Helspar murmured one last sorry and returned home.
The next two years were uneasy. Feeling utterly alone, Helspar gradually lost the motivation to work. Even worse was the political situation in Skyrim. Jorunn the Skald-King, the architect of the Ebonheart Pact, fell ill. Without Jorunn's cooperative directions, ultra-nationalists and xenophobes filled the power vacuum. Dunmers and Argonians suddenly found themselves discriminated by Riften natives. Helspar was fired from the fishery. He wanted no further part in the conflict, so he bought a rundown cabin near the Jerall Mountains and lived off the land.
Another year later, Jorunn died. Riften seceded from the Pact. On one of his rare market visits, Helspar learned that dark elves and Argonians were no longer welcome in Riften. This news was proven in action on Helspar's walk back home. A group of Nord "vigilantes" beat him senseless for no reason other than the shape of his ears. These hooligans even took his toiletries!
Enough was enough. The Rift couldn't be his home forever; maybe it's time to return to his first home, Stormhold. While passing through southern Morrowind, a Dres councilor offered Helspar a slaver's job. Helspar declined. That night, the councilor's henchmen attacked him, intending to keep the slave operation secret. Thanks to his honed instincts, Helspar managed to shoot a few of them down, and ran into Black Marsh without getting too hurt.
Stormhold was a completely different city than he remembered. Three vice-canons were condensed into one, whom was unsurprisingly, an Argonian. It still flew the Ebonheart Pact banner, unlike the recently separate House Dres in the north. Contact with Mournhold had been cut. A thick palisade now surrounds the outer areas, to keep out slavers that were no longer restricted by Pact laws.
The first place Helspar went to was Aca-Itla's shop. Aca-Itla was dead; Gnarl-Braids was running the place. They vaguely remembered each other, and Braids agreed to let Helspar in on the business. The reason was safety. Slavers posed a major threat to anyone venturing beyond the palisade, including hunters. Strength in numbers, or so they say. Having an extra archer was worth splitting the profits for Braids.
The last thing Helspar expected from his homecoming was romantic attraction. Yet within three years of hunting and selling game alongside Gnarl-Braids, he found himself falling for the Argonian. Braids was quick-witted and always had a joke ready. Braids was also a strong and nimble man. Most importantly, Braids listened to him. Perhaps he was just getting too lonely, but Helspar was not brave or desperate enough to confess his feelings. He saw Braids being very close to an Argonian woman. If Helspar told him, he would ruin their friendship, like with that Nord lad.
Helspar at 40 was hunting a dangerous type of prey. Sure, Gnarl-Braids, him and their associates were still taking swamp game animals, with the occasional wamasu for trophy. But in 636, the Argonians withdrew from the Ebonheart Pact, causing Morrowind to re-legalize slavery. Droves of slavers poured in from the north, often abducting entire villages in Shadowfen. The few Dunmers that remained in Stormhold were often lynched by the Argonians, whom feared a betrayal from within. Helspar remained safe, thanks to Braids vouching for him. He was now hunting slavers, partly to prove his loyalty, and partly out of his own conscience.
On a misty evening in 637, while Helspar, Braids and two other Argonians were stalking a band of Telvanni thugs, they were set upon from behind. The Telvannis outnumbered them three to one, because their necromancers had raised dead Argonians from Hei-Halai. The ensuing fight was one-sided. Seeing no way to win, Braids told Heslpar and another Argonian to run, while he and the other covered their escape. Helspar made it back to Stormhold, but the other Argonian did not. He brought guards out to find Braids. They found nothing; the Telvannis already crossed back to Morrowind.
When the news spread across Stormhold, Helspar was no longer welcomed there. Many Argonians believed he betrayed Braids and the others. However, he still had enough backing to be exiled, instead of beaten to death by an angry mob. Helspar left Black Marsh for Morrowind, for the second time in his life. Unlike before, he had a clear goal in mind; to rescue Gnarl-Braids. The goal was lofty, as he discovered upon entering Dres territories. Someone had recognized Helspar from years prior. Apparently, he was a wanted criminal in Deshaan. It mattered not, for the Telvanni were situated further to the north, and had a separate justice system from the Dres. Said justice system was the next problem. Helspar had no idea how Telvanni freed their slaves, if they did at all. He planned to buy Braid's freedom, except, Braids had be found first. After wasting his money traveling across Telvanni Peninsula, someone finally informed Helspar that his savings were nowhere near enough to buy a slave. The same person also said Helspar had promising alteration talents. Maybe he would like to work as a lab assistant?
Working his way up the Telvanni hierarchy would be the plan then. Helspar could curry favor with an abolitionist magister and win over Braids' freedom.
"Funny," the Telvannis laughed, "no magister would abolish slavery." The closest thing was Magister Therana, who was indifferent toward slavery, and even once admitted Sun-in-Shadow, an Argonian, into the house. Therana was currently traveling to Stros M'Kai, to present her research at the chartering ceremony of its Mages Guild. Helspar could wait for her in Morrowind, but Therana was known to be whimsical in her travels; she could be away for months. The Telvanni slave pens were notorious for their attrition rates, so the longer Helspar waits, the more likely it was for Braids to die. Plus, it could be easier persuading the magister in places where slavery is outlawed.
Stros M'Kai it was. Chartering a ship was out of Helspar's budget. A caravan through Cyrodiil was the alternative. The Alliance War had died down years ago, and the local counts had reestablished some order in the Imperial Province. What's the worse that could happen?
Motivations and Regrets: Helspar travels to Stros M'Kai for one purpose: get Magister Therana to free Gnarl-Braids. In doing so, he would achieve several more things. The first would be proving his innocence to Stormhold, which could allow him to return home. The second would be to confess his love to Gnarl-Braids. If he would be rejected, so be it; he needs to get it off his chest. The third would be to overcome his inaction. Helspar always waited; he must take initiative now.
The lack of initiative is Helspar's biggest regret. He feels like he has been a passive observer through most of his life. The divorce of his parents, the sorrow of his half-sister, not being able to say goodbye to his mother, his ejection from Riften and Stormhold, and ultimately, losing Braids. All of these could have turned out differently, should Helspar tried to make things better. Instead, he thought too much and acted to little.
Stats
Skills:
Expert: Archery
Adept: Provisioning, Acrobatics, 1H Blade
Novice: Alteration, Lockpicking, Speech
Spells: Magelight, Telekinesis, Burden, Feather
Equipment: Beside his outfit, everything Helspar travels with have been taken by the mysterious assailants. This includes his Argonian style elm bow, it's guar hide quiver and a dozen steel-tipped arrows. Helspar's beige canvas backpack has also been taken. The contents in that backpack; his travel documents, journal, quill, ink, fishsticks, sweetrolls, cure disease potions, and change of clothes, are all gone. The skinning knife attached to Helspar's leather boot has been taken as well, though the small repair kit in his coat pocket is still there.
23 | Female | Breton The Ritual | Wayrest, High Rock
Profile
Appearance:Appearance: Annmarie is around 5 feet (or perhaps even shorter) and no more 100 lbs, a rather small individual who could easily be mistaken for half her age from a distance. She has flaxen blond hair that ends just a little above her shoulders in a wavy long bob sort of hairstyle. Her eyes are a bright sky blue, wide and impressionable. The rest of her is rather different. Save for her face, it would almost seem as if her entire body has been stitched together, big black seams joining pieces of her body together. Added to this, she is missing her left hand and ear, but other than that... she's pretty complete.
For this very reason the young Breton tends to keep herself covered up almost completely, including her arms and even her neck. She dresses in long dark dresses of various colours with long sleeves and boots, along with large hats or hooded cloak that hide nearly half of her face.
Personality: Anne-Marie is something of a mixed personality. While on the outside she seems friendly, albeit awkward and a little bumbling, when she is amongst many individuals, she becomes rather reclusive, a shy wallflower sort who would rather not be noticed. Having low self confidence in general, the way her body now looks as well as her missing ear and hand cause her to feel even worse about herself than she used to. She does attempt to keep those reasons hidden to herself, satisfied with letting people think she's simply bad at socializing... it's easier than telling them the truth. That being said, she does yearn to interact with others and make friends, though her life experience has made her somewhat cautious and even a little paranoid in that regard.
Social aspect aside, she is still at heart a rather kind and empathetic person, feeling the need to help those in need, if she can. Cultivating patience had been ingrained in her since she was a young child, and the same could be said for working hard to achieve what she wants. A compassionate and sensitive sort, it's very easy to pull on her heartstrings and bring her to tears... and in the same fashion she is also one who can easily cheer up and smile from simply hearing a kind work or seeing something happy and pleasant. While she is thoughtful, often she will do as her heart dictates rather than follow logic and reason, which in the end may very well be her downfall.
Spells: Grand Healing Necromatic Healing Conjure Familiar Magelight
Equipment: A compartmentalize backpack which contains alchemical ingredients, a mortar and pestle, an extra pair of clothes, rolls of parchment, and charcoal to write with.] A satchel which contains nonperishable foods A water skin A knife A restoration staff (a rather simple wooden pole with a crystal at the top)