Thanks Dervs, I must've missed that part where the Wood Elf mentioned our gear, my bad. I figured since Marassa's sword had been grabbed up they were all just knicked in the chaos :p
I felt bad for not having anything so while I was waiting for a reply I typed up a quick
Name: A mystery to even himself, "Cub" remembers only the chiding nickname those of the Stronghold used to ostracize him.
Race: Orc
Family Origins: First Son of the Chief of Narzulbur, Cub was born and raised high in the mountains above Windhelm. Ebony veins allowed superiour arms and trade agreements making Narzulbur one of the more influential strongholds when procuring mates leading to stronger bloodlines and warriors.
Appearance: Standing just over Eight feet, the ironically named Cub is a mix of muscles and scars from his many years of battles both in the Stronghold and since leaving to join Zhaveed's party four years ago. Everything from singed flesh to dragon bites coat his thick green skin, badges of his stalwart defense for those he claims as his friends. Because of his large size and exhaustive years of combat, finding sturdy armour is no easy task. His latest ensemble is predominately custom Orcish made for his Day of Trial over four years ago with the curious cuirass of a Dwemer Centurion hammered and shaped by the Sons of Skyrim in recognition of his part in slaying the Last Dragon in Skyrim. the most transient bit of armour Cub possess is a simple steel helmet. This is the current iteration as it seems he can never keep one for more than a few months even going so far to covering his head with a bucket on one occasion. Such is a necessary evil however as The Coward's Crown which adorns his face and head are a marking to any True Orc that he is to be killed on sight.
Age: Still a youth of 22, Cub is much in his prime though his size and constant injuries are beginning to take their toll. More and more he is forced to look on helplessly as he in outnumbered and outmatched leaving the innocent to suffer for it.
Equipment:
Giant Ebony Hammer adorned in weathered red runes of Malacath.
Large Orcish Gauntlets, Boots and Greaves all adorned in weathered red runes of Malacath.
Tattered Green Traveling Cloak chewed on the ends by Shavie the Mule and weathered to near rags.
Silver Shortsword (Dagger in Cub's hands) bestowed by Malacath.
A single Dragon Bone on a length of Saber Cat Sinew worn about the neck; owed to Arbus, leader of the Sons of Skyrim.
Miscellanea: Having recently been attacked by bandits, Cub has no equipment.
Favored Skills:
Highly Proficient: Two Handed, Heavy Armour
Under his Father's grueling tutelage, Cub trained mercilessly for nearly two decades.
Moderately Proficient: Smithing
Given the strange nature and rapid transition of his armour, Cub has had to learn a few things in recent years about basic smithing practices and upkeep.
Background and a "brief" history:
Four years ago Cub's Stronghold was destroyed by frost trolls, an incident during which Cub cowered and was subsequently (and literally) branded an outcast by the few survivors. The details are sketchy as exactly what happened was claimed by Cub's long-standing amnesia pointing to more than a simple troll attack.
Fleeing what remained of his home, Cub encountered a motley crew in Windhelm and, with nowhere else to go, joined up. While never fulling understanding their motives, the child-like Cub imprinted himself on the charismatic leader of the group, a Khajiit corsair named Zaveed.
Through the party suffered losses, some Cub mourns to this day, they were eventually successful in toppling an emperor and saving all of Tamriel though Cub knows only that he helped the good guys. Once the spell was broken, the party returned to their lives keeping some contact. With no home or family of his own, Cub returned to Windhelm and become a blacksmith's apprentice having a natural affinity for the forge. Two years of peace passed in Skyrim though less so for Cub. Strange visions haunted his sleep, familiar yet alien voices urging him to act. Act on what Cub wasn't sure but he could never shake the feeling he was meant to do something.
Over half a year ago the Dwemer tore Windhelm apart. Cub was at the forge at the time and, having hung up his armour long ago, was helpless as men, women and children were cut down in battle. Being Nords they refused to die without a fight but the technologically advanced Dwemers were too much. Deciding this is what the voices meant, Cub set off to find Zhaveed, the father figure he had come to equate with doing the impossible. If anyone could stop whatever was happening, he could.
Now in Eastern Hammerfell and in company of Zhaveed's half-sister, Cub is determined to find Zhaveed, though being on his own raised many questions about his past he never had to face in the company of the party. As the Dwemer burned the settlement of Rihad around him, Cub was faced for the first time with doubt. What if he wasn't strong enough? What if he never found Zhaveed? What if they couldn't save anyone? In his despair, Cub cast himself into the sea.
Rather than drown, Cub was visited by a doppelgänger and forced to fight for the amusement of a shadowy specter who promised Cub the strength he would need if he served as its harbinger. Now torn between visions of his past, finding Zhaveed & saving Tamriel and serving this mysterious new master, Cub finds himself in a fight his size alone cannot win.
Fighting Style: Trained for exhausting battles with his hammer and using his armour to glance off even the mightiest of blows, Cub is a tenacious fighter often placing himself between the enemy and his brothers-in-arms. The most extreme example of this was Cub leaping into the very jaws of a dragon to negate its fire and frost attacks.
Personality: A melting pot of rash emotions and measured decisions, Cub is a paradox. In combat the large Orc controls the ebb and flow of battle by outlasting his enemy and soaking up attacks meant for his friends but any other time his thoughts are muddles whims sending him into tangents and strange behaviour only he truly understands. It's been said the giant's not quite all there while other whispers tell of more than one sharing that great green head of his. The truth of the matter, unfortunately, is shrouded from even him.
Font Colour: If we ever get them back, yellow as the sun and twice as bright.
since Cub's official one was never recovered from the Wreckage of the Old Guild ;_;
Edit: Upon a second look, the weapons WERE handed out to the troops but I think I can safely assume the hammer is still in the tent as few others could wield such a monstrosity.
