Hi there, welcome to the thread. This is our Elder Scrolls RP with some custom lore to fill in some gaps.
The character sheets below are currently out of date as story arcs have changed and expanded our original cast a bit. This has kind of blown out to a longer jaunt than either of us expected, spanning three nations of Tamriel, roughly a year of in-story chronology, and over a year of real time.
Please note that we are not perfect writers. I mean that mostly in the narrative sense; hindsight is 20/20 after all. We try to do our best in the meantime.
For those who would actually want to read all of the IC thread, may your gods have mercy on your masochistic soul. This was never designed from the start to be a well-paced and entertaining read. You have been warned.
The character sheets below are currently out of date as story arcs have changed and expanded our original cast a bit. This has kind of blown out to a longer jaunt than either of us expected, spanning three nations of Tamriel, roughly a year of in-story chronology, and over a year of real time.
Please note that we are not perfect writers. I mean that mostly in the narrative sense; hindsight is 20/20 after all. We try to do our best in the meantime.
For those who would actually want to read all of the IC thread, may your gods have mercy on your masochistic soul. This was never designed from the start to be a well-paced and entertaining read. You have been warned.
So, starting off, Fendros has turned and has spent an indeterminate amount of time as a werewolf around the great wood a distance from Cheydinhal. He's probably lying in his Dunmer form somewhere in the wilderness, quite unconscious.
Character repository:
EliteCommander's characters
Name: Meesei
Race: Argonian
Gender: Female
Age: 28
Appearance: Meesei is of average height, has light green scales, orange eyes, red feathers, three small horns above each eye, and two large horns that curve down and forward, one on each side of her head.
Equipment: As a mage, she carries no physical weapon. She does not use armor and wears what she can make from the bodies of her kills, usually loincloths with assorted leather or fur (same as Ahnasha, think of forsworn).
Skills: Destruction, Restoration, Alteration, Illusion, Enchanting, some Conjuration (bound weapons, though she is not particularly skilled in their use)
Background: Meesei was born in a small village in northwest Black Marsh, her role in the community set from the day she hatched, as she was the daughter of the village’s shaman, her father. From the very beginning, she was trained in the ways of magic and in the traditions of her people. The role of Shaman was one of the three leadership positions of their community, so the responsibility on her shoulders would be great. She would be the absolute authority on anything of a magical nature when she took the role of her father, so she practiced rigorously with her father every day. She would also be one of the voices of the village to the outside world, so she was taught Cyrodilic and taken from time to time to the surrounding cities to witness the customs of settled people firsthand.
Meesei’s life continued mostly as expected until she turned seventeen. Shortly after the anniversary of her hatching day, her father died of unknown health complications, placing her immediately into his position. This was at the same time as the village was suffering a crisis with a food shortage. For whatever reason, their hunters could simply not track their usual prey on their lands, almost as if they were nonexistent. The village’s Master-Hunter had exhausted all of his options, so he called upon Meesei to see if there was some type of magic at work, some foul curse that was killing their prey, or driving them from their land. She tried at first to solve the issue with her own knowledge of magic, which was quite expansive, despite her young age. Even so, she could find no answers to their problem, so she turned to her last resort, the Daedric Lord of the Hunt himself.
In secret, Meesei ventured away from their territory into the lands of neighboring clans, then performed hunts and sacrificed her kills to Hircine. She eventually managed to contact him and made a deal with the Daedra. He brought game back to their land, and in exchange, she continued to hunt in his name and sacrifice the bodies of her kills to him. While at first she did this simply to honor their bargain, she eventually began to respect Hircine, then idolize him. From that point, she knew her fate in life was not simply to be a shaman for her clan, but to serve an even greater master.
For three years, Meesei worshiped Hircine in secret while training her replacement, one of her childhood friends who had also received extensive magical training. Shortly after entering into her twentieth year, Hircine called upon Meesei to leave her village and meet with one of her hounds, who bestowed upon her the gift of beast blood. She did not meet that hound again, but instead lived alone in the wilds of Black Marsh, hunting in the name of Hircine while she learned to use her new abilities. Seeing the potential in his new follower, after two years, Hircine directed her to travel to Cyrodiil, so that she might begin a pack of her own.
It has been six years, and Meesei is the alpha of a pack of five werewolves. While far from the largest pack in existence, every member of her pack is a skilled hunter, each with their own talents and exceptional promise. They are a close knit family, but one that is not quite yet complete.
Race: Argonian
Gender: Female
Age: 28
Appearance: Meesei is of average height, has light green scales, orange eyes, red feathers, three small horns above each eye, and two large horns that curve down and forward, one on each side of her head.
Equipment: As a mage, she carries no physical weapon. She does not use armor and wears what she can make from the bodies of her kills, usually loincloths with assorted leather or fur (same as Ahnasha, think of forsworn).
Skills: Destruction, Restoration, Alteration, Illusion, Enchanting, some Conjuration (bound weapons, though she is not particularly skilled in their use)
Background: Meesei was born in a small village in northwest Black Marsh, her role in the community set from the day she hatched, as she was the daughter of the village’s shaman, her father. From the very beginning, she was trained in the ways of magic and in the traditions of her people. The role of Shaman was one of the three leadership positions of their community, so the responsibility on her shoulders would be great. She would be the absolute authority on anything of a magical nature when she took the role of her father, so she practiced rigorously with her father every day. She would also be one of the voices of the village to the outside world, so she was taught Cyrodilic and taken from time to time to the surrounding cities to witness the customs of settled people firsthand.
Meesei’s life continued mostly as expected until she turned seventeen. Shortly after the anniversary of her hatching day, her father died of unknown health complications, placing her immediately into his position. This was at the same time as the village was suffering a crisis with a food shortage. For whatever reason, their hunters could simply not track their usual prey on their lands, almost as if they were nonexistent. The village’s Master-Hunter had exhausted all of his options, so he called upon Meesei to see if there was some type of magic at work, some foul curse that was killing their prey, or driving them from their land. She tried at first to solve the issue with her own knowledge of magic, which was quite expansive, despite her young age. Even so, she could find no answers to their problem, so she turned to her last resort, the Daedric Lord of the Hunt himself.
In secret, Meesei ventured away from their territory into the lands of neighboring clans, then performed hunts and sacrificed her kills to Hircine. She eventually managed to contact him and made a deal with the Daedra. He brought game back to their land, and in exchange, she continued to hunt in his name and sacrifice the bodies of her kills to him. While at first she did this simply to honor their bargain, she eventually began to respect Hircine, then idolize him. From that point, she knew her fate in life was not simply to be a shaman for her clan, but to serve an even greater master.
For three years, Meesei worshiped Hircine in secret while training her replacement, one of her childhood friends who had also received extensive magical training. Shortly after entering into her twentieth year, Hircine called upon Meesei to leave her village and meet with one of her hounds, who bestowed upon her the gift of beast blood. She did not meet that hound again, but instead lived alone in the wilds of Black Marsh, hunting in the name of Hircine while she learned to use her new abilities. Seeing the potential in his new follower, after two years, Hircine directed her to travel to Cyrodiil, so that she might begin a pack of her own.
It has been six years, and Meesei is the alpha of a pack of five werewolves. While far from the largest pack in existence, every member of her pack is a skilled hunter, each with their own talents and exceptional promise. They are a close knit family, but one that is not quite yet complete.
Name: Lorag gro-Konesh
Race: Orc
Gender: Male
Age: 32
Appearance: Lorag is a standard Orc, being very tall and muscular with dark green skin and short black hair. He has a single large scar across his chest, and an assortment of smaller ones across his body, including one just above his left eye.
Equipment: He is skilled with the use of heavy armors, but as with the rest of the pack, he cannot rely on being able to keep his equipment for an extended time. Currently he has a set of iron armor and a steel warhammer, but will make a set of the toughest, thickest leather armor he can manage and a spear if he loses them.
Skills: Two-handed, heavy armor, unarmed, smithing, one-handed (blunt weapons specifically)
Background: Lorag fits almost every stereotype of an Orc, and is proud of it. He was born in Cheydinhal to a family with a long history of service to the legion, so naturally he followed suit. He was born after the end of the Great War, so he missed his chance to fight there, but he was among the legions assigned to deal with the Stormcloak uprising in Skyrim. He fought in several battles in that war, but he did not see it through to its end, as he was turned to a werewolf before then. His patrol was ambushed by a pair of werewolves looking for a meal, though they found far more of a fight than they were expecting. He alone managed to slay one of the lycans, but was wounded in the process. His patrol was scattered by the other lycan, so he was left alone, wounded, and infected. After some time, he became one with the beast world and decided to leave Skyrim for his homeland, though he knew he could not go back to civilization. He lived in the wilds for 9 years before Meesei tracked him down, guided by Hircine.
Lorag can be described as a crude individual. He can be brutal and prone to rage, but generally he does not take himself too seriously. He is often sarcastic and loves to make jokes, no matter how inappropriate. He likes to drink, though he rarely gets a chance anymore living in the wilds. He follows Hircine willingly, but he is not religious and could not exactly be described as a “worshipper” per ce. He is, however, loyal to Meesei and would not think of betraying her.
Race: Orc
Gender: Male
Age: 32
Appearance: Lorag is a standard Orc, being very tall and muscular with dark green skin and short black hair. He has a single large scar across his chest, and an assortment of smaller ones across his body, including one just above his left eye.
Equipment: He is skilled with the use of heavy armors, but as with the rest of the pack, he cannot rely on being able to keep his equipment for an extended time. Currently he has a set of iron armor and a steel warhammer, but will make a set of the toughest, thickest leather armor he can manage and a spear if he loses them.
Skills: Two-handed, heavy armor, unarmed, smithing, one-handed (blunt weapons specifically)
Background: Lorag fits almost every stereotype of an Orc, and is proud of it. He was born in Cheydinhal to a family with a long history of service to the legion, so naturally he followed suit. He was born after the end of the Great War, so he missed his chance to fight there, but he was among the legions assigned to deal with the Stormcloak uprising in Skyrim. He fought in several battles in that war, but he did not see it through to its end, as he was turned to a werewolf before then. His patrol was ambushed by a pair of werewolves looking for a meal, though they found far more of a fight than they were expecting. He alone managed to slay one of the lycans, but was wounded in the process. His patrol was scattered by the other lycan, so he was left alone, wounded, and infected. After some time, he became one with the beast world and decided to leave Skyrim for his homeland, though he knew he could not go back to civilization. He lived in the wilds for 9 years before Meesei tracked him down, guided by Hircine.
Lorag can be described as a crude individual. He can be brutal and prone to rage, but generally he does not take himself too seriously. He is often sarcastic and loves to make jokes, no matter how inappropriate. He likes to drink, though he rarely gets a chance anymore living in the wilds. He follows Hircine willingly, but he is not religious and could not exactly be described as a “worshipper” per ce. He is, however, loyal to Meesei and would not think of betraying her.
Name: Ahnasha
Race: Khajiit
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Appearance: Ahnasha is a moderately small individual with light brown fur, with lines of black fur all across her body in various patterns.
Equipment: Ahnasha fights exclusively with bound weapons, so she carries no physical weapons with her. She does not wear armor, so she wears whatever she can make from her kills, usually loincloths with assorted furs and perhaps trophies from her kills (think forsworn apparel).
Skills: Archery, one-handed (shortswords and daggers), illusion, acrobatics, some conjuration (bound weapons).
Background: Ahnasha was born in Leyawiin to parents who owned a local general store. It was a stable life, but one Ahnasha found incredibly boring. She had no interest in learning how to run a shop or barter for gold, instead wanting something with excitement, and perhaps some danger. As soon as she was old enough, she started practicing with a bow, then went out hunting local creatures as soon as her parents would let her. As long as she stayed close enough to the city and brought back the pelts to sell, she was allowed to hunt pretty much every day.
Over time, Ahnasha honed her skills, including magical skills she learned from reading books that passed through her parents’ shop. The ability to summon bound weapons was rather useful, especially considering how expensive arrows could be, and the school of illusion was invaluable to a huntress such as herself. She never found herself particularly compelled by the Eight Divines like her parents, so she looked elsewhere when the thought of worship came to her mind. Naturally, Hircine was the first being to grab the attention of the young huntress. She worshipped him in secret for years before her master finally called her to her destiny. After proving her skill by slaying powerful local beast, a minotaur, Hircine guided Ahnasha to Meesei, from whom she received the gift of beast blood, and was born into the pack.
Ahnasha is young, confident, and always looking to prove herself. She follows Hircine with fervor, approaching each hunt with enthusiasm. She does not have the crude sense of humor of Lorag and tends to be more serious, but does not mind being friendly and laid-back with the fellow members of her pack.
Race: Khajiit
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Appearance: Ahnasha is a moderately small individual with light brown fur, with lines of black fur all across her body in various patterns.
Equipment: Ahnasha fights exclusively with bound weapons, so she carries no physical weapons with her. She does not wear armor, so she wears whatever she can make from her kills, usually loincloths with assorted furs and perhaps trophies from her kills (think forsworn apparel).
Skills: Archery, one-handed (shortswords and daggers), illusion, acrobatics, some conjuration (bound weapons).
Background: Ahnasha was born in Leyawiin to parents who owned a local general store. It was a stable life, but one Ahnasha found incredibly boring. She had no interest in learning how to run a shop or barter for gold, instead wanting something with excitement, and perhaps some danger. As soon as she was old enough, she started practicing with a bow, then went out hunting local creatures as soon as her parents would let her. As long as she stayed close enough to the city and brought back the pelts to sell, she was allowed to hunt pretty much every day.
Over time, Ahnasha honed her skills, including magical skills she learned from reading books that passed through her parents’ shop. The ability to summon bound weapons was rather useful, especially considering how expensive arrows could be, and the school of illusion was invaluable to a huntress such as herself. She never found herself particularly compelled by the Eight Divines like her parents, so she looked elsewhere when the thought of worship came to her mind. Naturally, Hircine was the first being to grab the attention of the young huntress. She worshipped him in secret for years before her master finally called her to her destiny. After proving her skill by slaying powerful local beast, a minotaur, Hircine guided Ahnasha to Meesei, from whom she received the gift of beast blood, and was born into the pack.
Ahnasha is young, confident, and always looking to prove herself. She follows Hircine with fervor, approaching each hunt with enthusiasm. She does not have the crude sense of humor of Lorag and tends to be more serious, but does not mind being friendly and laid-back with the fellow members of her pack.
Muttonhawk's characters
Name: Fendros Avarul
Race: Dunmer
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Appearance:
Like many on his race, Fendros bears stony grey skin and thick jet black hair, which he wears brushed back with some braids through it. He stands a hand shorter than most imperials, but is solidly built. His eyes are red, as is to be expected, and are sharply angled down with his brow. Somehow, this doesn't make him look angry all of the time, in fact the rest of his facial features remain relatively soft in their youth.
Fendros was out hunting in the woods outside Cheydinhal in a set of finely crafted leather armour over a white cotton shirt and breeches to keep the wind at bay. His equipment is on his back and his belt.
Equipment:
A steel sword in scabbard, a steel skinning knife, a hide-covered wooden shield slung on his back, a hunting bow, 24 steel headed arrows on a quiver on his back, enough bread and cheese for a single meal, a skin of water on his belt.
Skills:
One-Handed, Block, Light Armour, Archery, some Sneak for hunting, and some Speech for the purposes of trade.
While virtually talentless with regards to magic, Fendros is a quick and intelligent learner in most other things.
Background:
Fendros was brought up on a Cheydinhal vineyard with Dark Elf culture and Dark Elf pride, even if he had never laid eyes on Morrowind. Being told that you were part of a great and ancient clan despite its name being unknown to most of the public beyond your immediate family was just one of the factors that has made him a verbal and headstrong individual. Growing up was a combination of being educated by his family, interacting with his younger sister and brother, and working with his family. Not much interaction with people outside his family went on for him, especially since their family did not worship the Eight, reducing their interaction with the Aedra worshiping community. This was due to them keeping ties to the Tribunal Temple, mostly out of proud stubbornness. Some of the most frustrating lessons in his education were when Fendros' parents tried to shove arcane knowledge and magical skill into Fendros' mind. Not only was Fendros born under the sign of the Atronach, making practice frustrating in their family that lacked the means to acquire magicka potions and supplements, but magic was never something he could get a hang of. He could never do much more that shoot a jet of flames to catch the upholstery on fire.
The more productive education came from the subjects of trade and mercantilism, but again, this was not a passion of Fendros. What young Fendros daydreamed about was being like the war heroes of his family's heritage, fighting off beasts and invaders alike. Great warriors and generals, all of them. When Fendros was deemed old enough to join the fighter's guild, training with a sword and hunting were his only activities where he could get away with it. The years went by and Fendros was unfortunately still ostracised from his parent's good graces by his lack of passion for magic and commerce. He is good to his younger siblings however, who seem to reciprocate his respect.
The past few years have given Fendros some autonomy, but sometimes he has to clear his mind by venturing into the Great Forest to hunt. Fendros was on a hunting trip for a day and a night now, having no luck so far. Little did he know just what strange fortune would find him on his hunt.
Race: Dunmer
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Appearance:
Like many on his race, Fendros bears stony grey skin and thick jet black hair, which he wears brushed back with some braids through it. He stands a hand shorter than most imperials, but is solidly built. His eyes are red, as is to be expected, and are sharply angled down with his brow. Somehow, this doesn't make him look angry all of the time, in fact the rest of his facial features remain relatively soft in their youth.
Fendros was out hunting in the woods outside Cheydinhal in a set of finely crafted leather armour over a white cotton shirt and breeches to keep the wind at bay. His equipment is on his back and his belt.
Equipment:
A steel sword in scabbard, a steel skinning knife, a hide-covered wooden shield slung on his back, a hunting bow, 24 steel headed arrows on a quiver on his back, enough bread and cheese for a single meal, a skin of water on his belt.
Skills:
One-Handed, Block, Light Armour, Archery, some Sneak for hunting, and some Speech for the purposes of trade.
While virtually talentless with regards to magic, Fendros is a quick and intelligent learner in most other things.
Background:
Fendros was brought up on a Cheydinhal vineyard with Dark Elf culture and Dark Elf pride, even if he had never laid eyes on Morrowind. Being told that you were part of a great and ancient clan despite its name being unknown to most of the public beyond your immediate family was just one of the factors that has made him a verbal and headstrong individual. Growing up was a combination of being educated by his family, interacting with his younger sister and brother, and working with his family. Not much interaction with people outside his family went on for him, especially since their family did not worship the Eight, reducing their interaction with the Aedra worshiping community. This was due to them keeping ties to the Tribunal Temple, mostly out of proud stubbornness. Some of the most frustrating lessons in his education were when Fendros' parents tried to shove arcane knowledge and magical skill into Fendros' mind. Not only was Fendros born under the sign of the Atronach, making practice frustrating in their family that lacked the means to acquire magicka potions and supplements, but magic was never something he could get a hang of. He could never do much more that shoot a jet of flames to catch the upholstery on fire.
The more productive education came from the subjects of trade and mercantilism, but again, this was not a passion of Fendros. What young Fendros daydreamed about was being like the war heroes of his family's heritage, fighting off beasts and invaders alike. Great warriors and generals, all of them. When Fendros was deemed old enough to join the fighter's guild, training with a sword and hunting were his only activities where he could get away with it. The years went by and Fendros was unfortunately still ostracised from his parent's good graces by his lack of passion for magic and commerce. He is good to his younger siblings however, who seem to reciprocate his respect.
The past few years have given Fendros some autonomy, but sometimes he has to clear his mind by venturing into the Great Forest to hunt. Fendros was on a hunting trip for a day and a night now, having no luck so far. Little did he know just what strange fortune would find him on his hunt.
Name: Sabine 'Runt' Montgrave
Race: Breton
Gender: Female
Age: 14
Appearance: Sabine is a gaunt and pale girl who always seems to shield herself behind her knees whenever she sits still. Her green eyes dart between people's faces and various seemingly inconsequential details in the area from behind frizzy auburn hair. Like her pack mates, she wears cobbled together clothes from pieces of hide, but likes to keep a cloak of sewn together fur pelts from various animals to keep herself warm.
Equipment: Sabine carries a few pouches of alchemical ingredients as well as a round stone and a hewn wooden bowl to make salves and poultices. She also has a sharp steel cutting dagger and a few small glass vials, both have unexplained origins. Also bundled with her pouches is a long sling and a few smooth river pebbles. She guards all of her belongings closely, and doesn't let anyone so much as touch them without her permission.
Skills: Alchemy, Enchanting, One-Handed, Sneak, also handy with a sling. The only spell she knows outside of any enchanting is a soul trap spell.
Background: It is unknown to all in the pack exactly where Sabine came from. All that is known can only be retold by others in the pack, whose experience is limited to after she joined. What is known is that she was a werewolf before joining the pack, but was drifting alone in the wilds around the Panther river, surviving however she could. Sabine gained Meesei's trust after the body of a hunter armed with silver arrows was spotted nearby their camp one morning, his head cracked by a pebble that had Sabine's scent on it. Upon tolerating her presence in the pack, Sabine demonstrated exceptional knowledge of local plants and their various alchemical effects, as well as having a surprising affinity with enchanting when given soul gems and something to enchant.
Interacting with Sabine is often difficult. She rarely makes prolonged eye-contact, and only speaks in short sentences with a quiet voice. She appears compassionate to her pack mates and is always willing to help, even if the others call her 'Runt'. In werewolf form, Sabine is smaller than her pack mates, but is fast, and can climb better than any in her pack. Sabine seems to be more open with Meesei than anyone else, and follows her unquestioningly. Even so, Sabine remains withdrawn about her past. It was only recently that Meesei was able to coax her out of giving her family name.
Race: Breton
Gender: Female
Age: 14
Appearance: Sabine is a gaunt and pale girl who always seems to shield herself behind her knees whenever she sits still. Her green eyes dart between people's faces and various seemingly inconsequential details in the area from behind frizzy auburn hair. Like her pack mates, she wears cobbled together clothes from pieces of hide, but likes to keep a cloak of sewn together fur pelts from various animals to keep herself warm.
Equipment: Sabine carries a few pouches of alchemical ingredients as well as a round stone and a hewn wooden bowl to make salves and poultices. She also has a sharp steel cutting dagger and a few small glass vials, both have unexplained origins. Also bundled with her pouches is a long sling and a few smooth river pebbles. She guards all of her belongings closely, and doesn't let anyone so much as touch them without her permission.
Skills: Alchemy, Enchanting, One-Handed, Sneak, also handy with a sling. The only spell she knows outside of any enchanting is a soul trap spell.
Background: It is unknown to all in the pack exactly where Sabine came from. All that is known can only be retold by others in the pack, whose experience is limited to after she joined. What is known is that she was a werewolf before joining the pack, but was drifting alone in the wilds around the Panther river, surviving however she could. Sabine gained Meesei's trust after the body of a hunter armed with silver arrows was spotted nearby their camp one morning, his head cracked by a pebble that had Sabine's scent on it. Upon tolerating her presence in the pack, Sabine demonstrated exceptional knowledge of local plants and their various alchemical effects, as well as having a surprising affinity with enchanting when given soul gems and something to enchant.
Interacting with Sabine is often difficult. She rarely makes prolonged eye-contact, and only speaks in short sentences with a quiet voice. She appears compassionate to her pack mates and is always willing to help, even if the others call her 'Runt'. In werewolf form, Sabine is smaller than her pack mates, but is fast, and can climb better than any in her pack. Sabine seems to be more open with Meesei than anyone else, and follows her unquestioningly. Even so, Sabine remains withdrawn about her past. It was only recently that Meesei was able to coax her out of giving her family name.
Name: Janius Aetius
Race: Imperial
Gender: Male
Age: 21
Appearance: Janius may look lean, but his strength and his liver, along with his short blonde hair, has resulted in him being mistaken for a Nord on several occasions. He stands at an average height for an Imperial, and has a thick goatee that hides most of his mouth movements unless he grins. His hide clothing appears to look less rushed than most of the pack, as if he still tries to keep closer ties to civilization with what style he wears.
Equipment: On his belt, Janius carries his steel war axe and his imperial shield. For his clothing, he wears sewn hides and leathers like his pack, but also wears armour. Although they are visibly hammered back into shape from whatever warped form they assumed when Janius first transformed, he still wears his iron helmet, cuirass, right pauldron and both bracers. With some prepared knot work, Janius can loosen his armour so it would fall of him without warping if he would transform, but it does not fit him quite as well as it had done and he's still experimenting to try and get the knots right.
Skills: One handed, Heavy Armour, Destruction, Block, some Pickpocket to show off.
Background: Janius, grew up as a child caught between being brutish and quick-witted. On one hand, he loved to experiment with magic and to socialise with various groups, from the social elite of his wealthy parent's friends, to whatever females decided to sit at the tavern that night. Unfortunately by the time he reached adulthood, he found himself without aspirations and didn't make an effort to really grow up and make something of himself. Janius cruised under the wealth of his parents for about two years, but it was never going to be a lifestyle that lasted. With his father high-ranking in the Fighter's Guild in Bravil, it was disappointing to find that his son in such a shameful state of ambivalence that he 'enrolled' him into the guild branch to beat some discipline onto him. Having no choice, Janius had to learn how to fight fast, but found that he was quick enough on his feet to manage, and with some extra practice flinging destruction spells, he might have even been considered an asset. After a few months accompanying the guild to solve various civil disturbances and other minor issues, Janius was assigned to accompany a group of two other fighters to clear out an abandoned mine of a family of cave bears that had been threatening travellers. What was thought to just be a mother bear and her cubs turned out to be a heavily populated spider nest. In an extraordinary set of circumstances, Janius' party was trapped by a cave-in and had to run around the labyrinth of the mines, killing off the spiders as they went and trying to survive. Janius was the last one standing because of a combination of incredible luck and that he had fire spells that his shield-mates did not. Janius could not escape however, and had to wait by the cave-in area for help to arrive. Help came in the form of Meesei's pack, who had been commanded by Hircine to find Janius and gift him with beast-blood for his tenacity in killing the spiders.
Janius was resentful to the pack for a while, as Hircine did not give him a choice in the matter, but after a while he found that the pack became more of a family to him than his real family had ever been. They were also true friends, unlike the hollow sycophants that followed his family's wealth around. Janius goes into hunts enthusiastically, as they give him purpose. He is always eager to join in the revels of his pack mates with good humour.
Race: Imperial
Gender: Male
Age: 21
Appearance: Janius may look lean, but his strength and his liver, along with his short blonde hair, has resulted in him being mistaken for a Nord on several occasions. He stands at an average height for an Imperial, and has a thick goatee that hides most of his mouth movements unless he grins. His hide clothing appears to look less rushed than most of the pack, as if he still tries to keep closer ties to civilization with what style he wears.
Equipment: On his belt, Janius carries his steel war axe and his imperial shield. For his clothing, he wears sewn hides and leathers like his pack, but also wears armour. Although they are visibly hammered back into shape from whatever warped form they assumed when Janius first transformed, he still wears his iron helmet, cuirass, right pauldron and both bracers. With some prepared knot work, Janius can loosen his armour so it would fall of him without warping if he would transform, but it does not fit him quite as well as it had done and he's still experimenting to try and get the knots right.
Skills: One handed, Heavy Armour, Destruction, Block, some Pickpocket to show off.
Background: Janius, grew up as a child caught between being brutish and quick-witted. On one hand, he loved to experiment with magic and to socialise with various groups, from the social elite of his wealthy parent's friends, to whatever females decided to sit at the tavern that night. Unfortunately by the time he reached adulthood, he found himself without aspirations and didn't make an effort to really grow up and make something of himself. Janius cruised under the wealth of his parents for about two years, but it was never going to be a lifestyle that lasted. With his father high-ranking in the Fighter's Guild in Bravil, it was disappointing to find that his son in such a shameful state of ambivalence that he 'enrolled' him into the guild branch to beat some discipline onto him. Having no choice, Janius had to learn how to fight fast, but found that he was quick enough on his feet to manage, and with some extra practice flinging destruction spells, he might have even been considered an asset. After a few months accompanying the guild to solve various civil disturbances and other minor issues, Janius was assigned to accompany a group of two other fighters to clear out an abandoned mine of a family of cave bears that had been threatening travellers. What was thought to just be a mother bear and her cubs turned out to be a heavily populated spider nest. In an extraordinary set of circumstances, Janius' party was trapped by a cave-in and had to run around the labyrinth of the mines, killing off the spiders as they went and trying to survive. Janius was the last one standing because of a combination of incredible luck and that he had fire spells that his shield-mates did not. Janius could not escape however, and had to wait by the cave-in area for help to arrive. Help came in the form of Meesei's pack, who had been commanded by Hircine to find Janius and gift him with beast-blood for his tenacity in killing the spiders.
Janius was resentful to the pack for a while, as Hircine did not give him a choice in the matter, but after a while he found that the pack became more of a family to him than his real family had ever been. They were also true friends, unlike the hollow sycophants that followed his family's wealth around. Janius goes into hunts enthusiastically, as they give him purpose. He is always eager to join in the revels of his pack mates with good humour.
