[CHAR] The Elder Scrolls: Witchhunters' Gambit

[Mixcoatl]

Riona Galsette (for The Elder Scrolls)



Name: Riona Galsette

Gender: female

Race: Breton

Political Affiliation: none

Age: 19

Guild Affiliation: none



Areas of Expertise:



She is proficient as an archery apprentice. Taught novice level sneaking by beggars and local tramps in the slums of Bravil. Conjuration of a bound sword through practice only being able to summon one at a time for a couple of minutes. Flexible in acrobatics honed in free-runing over obstacles in the roof and major walls of the walled shanty town, its the most developed kill she has being adept. Finally, a decent swords-woman with her conjured blade novice level. Her one handed skill was trained slaying small pests and goblins that roam the outer wilds.



Spell Repertoire:



Touch of fear -novice illusion spell. Bound dagger - novice conjuration



Loot/Gold: 33 septims and a few jewels that have not yet been appraised worth of different values.



Appearance:



Height: 5'6" Skin Tone: slight tanned fair;
Hair: short-cut to a few inches below her jaw. Lose bell shape, auburn colored.
Eye Color: light chocolate wine brown with a gray ring around the iris.
Face: round face with slightly full cheeks and a slight pointed jaw. A small scar across the left side of her eyebrow and a lip piercing on her lower lip being a silver ring. Slim short nose and a thin upper lip over her fuller lower one.
Slim athletic build.



Equipment/Enchanted Items:



black cloth leggings, leather boots, leather gauntlets, leather hood and a leather jerkin over a sleeveless work shirt that she tucks in. A traveling backpack with her personal hygiene materials, a cover, small tent lantern, metal tankard and a fork and a plate.
Weapons: a crossbow and bolt quiver worn on her waist on the left and an iron knife. No enchanted items.

Weaknesses:

Her brash and aggressive emotional reactions that cause her to be much less cautions when she loses her cool. Deathly scared of apparitions, spirits ghosts and wraiths.



Backstory:



Riona is a rouge that takes on any job she can get, she is a self proclaimed "witchhunter" with no former training for the job and only in the title. Fast on her blade as well as tongue, as a rouge, she is similar to a thief but is slightly better trained in the light weapon and armor arts. She possess agility and cunning that make her a formidable opponent where she lacks in brute strength. She prefers speed in combat rather than physical prowess. Persuasive in conversation, her tongue is good enough to save her a few coins but not enough to persuade guards from looking away at her small crimes if caught. In addition to her skills with a bound blade, she picks the locks and pockets of those who won't mind missing something of decent value. Depending on her ability when her words fail, she can either fight or flee depending on the opponent.



Riona grew up in the worst part of Bravil where bandits, thieves, low-lives and beggars made it their filthy paradise. Being the daughter of an independent fence, she learned the value of items and equipment for the right amount of coin. Her father taught her in speechcract and how to make prices shift to her benefit. He is a man completely involved in and around money and more than a dozen shady practices. Due to this fact, she has had to face some of the consequences her father brought upon them living they lifestyle that the slums offer.

In her years of training, her sneak and agility in acrobatics has been honed by jumping and free-running over the roofs of the massive shanty town. She has faced some of the worst undesirables the bad side of the law has to offer. She is no saint or ignorant to the ways of men and their lust and greed either. She has been taken by force more than a few times against her will, either for sick fun and entertainment by some of the local men or as "taken" payment from the piled debts her father had collected. Due to men handling her as an object and the dealing with the mental trauma of rape, she has harbored hate and ire towards any man that looks at her like she's some piece of meat.



She is always wary around any man and with good reason, in her upbringing she has never met a gentlemanly one yet, that did not have hidden intentions toward her. Riona decided to learn the skill of the blade once she was seventeen, her misery had led her to her boiling point and she vowed never to let a man take her body like so cheap commodity or thrill. She has never killed but has wounded those unfortunate to lay hands on her. Her mother had been kidnaped and taken by a necromancer at the age of fourteen. She was taken to one of the more dangerous caves in the area and experimented on till she was finally sacrificed to a deadric lord and her corpse reanimated.

Three years later once she had enough bravery and skill, she set out for that same cave with the intent of getting revenge to satisfy her need to avenge her mother's death. Upon searching the entire cave she found that the necromancer had been gone for years and the only things of value and clues to where he went was an old spellbook and a few jewels.



Riona read the book till she mastered her very first spell "bound dagger" and she's trained with it around the outskirts of Bravil slowly gathering money. With some of her earnings precious stones, she eventually purchased a light armor set, a skinning knife and a crossbow. A few jobs assisting the local fighters guild (not as a member more so as an assistant/intern) gave her the experience on how to use her crossbow efficiently. She spent the next two years training with her weapons till she bought her most recent spell from a traveling merchant who also spoke of an infamous necromancer with the habit of sacrificing women. The merchant had last heard of him back in Skyrim which is her now, ultimate destination.



Personality:



Riona is Friendly, adaptable, action-oriented. "Doer" type who is focused on immediate results. Living in the here-and-now, she's a risk-taker who lives a fast-paced lifestyle. Impatient with long explanations. Extremely loyal to her peers if the prove to be worth having, but not usually respectful of laws and rules if they get in the way of getting things done. Good persuasive skills.

Fun-loving, she makes things more fun for herself and for her personal enjoyment. Living for the moment, she loves to engage new experiences. She dislikes theory and impersonal analysis. Interested in being fair in all things concerning business, less she can tilt things into a more profitable favor. She will always pay her debts and make sure gets paid what she deserves for a job well earned. Likely to be of awkward attention in social situations where people of high status and manners interact. Well-developed common sense and practical ability although often ignored by her brash instinctual nature and rash behavior. She is easily incited for excitement of almost any kind and hard to calm in serious situations.



She is very enthusiastic, idealistic, and creative. Able to do almost anything that she sets her mind to and usually will pick up something fast if she's really into it. Great at banter and taunting especially to get her opponents to make emotional actions as a result. She is also extremely susceptible to taunts herself to a fault. She needs to live life in accordance with her inner values and will even ignore law If it goes against her own code of honor. Very excited by new ideas, but bored with details. She is open-minded and flexible, with a broad range of interests and abilities.

[SoulChrysamere]

Name: Gavinyarel



Race: Altmer



Gender: Male



Age: 110



Birthsign: The Atronach (extremely slow magicka recovery, requires regular use of potions and tonics to maintain spellcasting ability)

Height: 6'9



Appearance: Parchment-yellow skin tone; thick, dark gray hair bound in a ponytail; full beard, trimmed close to the skin; olive green eyes; slightly hooked nose; high, gaunt cheeks; thin, pursed, dark pink lips; lean, slim build; two vampire's claw marks laterally across his left cheek; puncture scars from werewolf claw on right calf; sword slash scar diagonally across chest from left shoulder down to right part of waist; two scrape scars on left side of waist from spear trap



Equipment: Tight-fitting, plain, dark gray robe with a large silver stud and headband ring on the hood, breast and shoulders padded with chainmail, fortifies magicka and its recovery; black, rawhide gauntlets with silver knuckles; plain black trousers with silver knee pads; rawhide, silver-toed boots; all silver on clothing kept coated with a material to hide its appearance and luster; small backpack for food and auxiliary items; healing and replenishing draughts kept in vials in a cushioned pouch at the side; ebony shortsword with fire enchantment kept in sheath at waist; steel, drain fatigue-enchanted throwing knife kept in right boot; silver amulet that resists magicka;



Personality: Even-tempered most of the time, but can be easily annoyed or riled by excessive stupidity, especially during serious situations; loves mind-oriented games and puzzles; harbors a stern abhorrence for those who thieve or cheat merely for personal gain or for causes he judges as unjust; wary of strangers; not racist or proud, gives everyone a chance at first; is not completely against the utilization of dark arts-related items, believing that in the right hands, they can be used for good purposes other than those their original creators or owners might've had;



Weaknesses: Atronach birthsign renders his magicka almost non-regenerative, recovers very slowly over time and requires the use of his enchanted gear and potions to be consistently kept battle-ready; natural Altmeri weakness to magic, experiences around 1.5 times the normal effect of a spell; extremely overprotective of children and those being racially discriminated against, can sometimes go out of his way to involve himself in such business that doesn't concern him at all; can sometimes lose his patience if subjected to prolonged annoyances or ungratefulness; shows a particular distrust and hatred of the Thalmor, of whom he was previously a member.

[Game terminology is just to give a basic idea of the skill-level with different disciplines.]

Skill Repertoire: Skilled with moderate-to-short-length blades (Expert Level), but clumsy with heavier or longer weapons (longswords, claymores, etc.); extremely skilled in destruction and alteration magic (Master Destruction, Expert Alteration), cherry picked skills from other schools (has utilized quiet-casting techniques from Illusion, recharging enchanted items, etc. -- Journeyman Level at best); can care for his steel knife and clothing well enough, but must have his ebony blade repaired by an appropriately skilled smith; not terribly well versed in speechcraft, but has come to understand how valuable some of the items his job rewards him with can be, and knows where to seek proper payment (in game terms, Novice Speechcraft, Journeyman Mercantile); has been taught constant vigilance by encounters with traps and crafty enemies


Political Affiliations: No official ties, but favors the Empire in Skyrim's civil war


Guild Affiliations: Has connections at the College of Winterhold, but is not a proper member, frequently uses it as a client for the loot he finds in addition to the various cities' court wizards and other magically inclined people;

----------------

Backstory (Work in Progress, will be expanded/revised/improved as time allows.)

Gavinyarel was born to Altmeri parents on Summerset Isle in 4E 91. His father, Braletar, was a high-ranking Thalmor officer that had long served as a Thalmor agent in various locations around Tamriel before returning home and wedding his wife. Gavinyarel's mother, Kandeline, was an extremely famous author all across Cyrodiil, a status that handsomely supplemented Braletar's earnings with the Thalmor. Resultantly, Gavinyarel was raised in an environment of self-absorbed racism and bigotry that saw him enlist with the Thalmor armies at fifteen.

During his pre-military schooling, Gavinyarel displayed a prodigious talent for Destruction magic and also showed a firm grasp of Alteration. These, coupled with the swordsmanship drilled into him by his trainers, prepared him for a life of service in the Thalmor army. After finishing his training, he was shipped to Solitude in Skyrim, where he was thrust into a decade long period of clandestine operations against the Empire in its northernmost province. He slowly became disillusioned with the Thalmor over those ten years as serving under his sadistic commander Shalcin let him see how all of the other races grieve during hardships just as Altmer do. He was finally convinced of the Thalmor's evilness when, in Evening Star of 4E 109, Shalcin punctuated the latest of his terrorist missions by torching an orphanage in Dragon's Bridge, which resulted in the deaths of eight children. In his rage, Gavinyarel conjured a bitterly cold blizzard and froze Shalcin and his other partners solid. Afterward drained of his magicka, he fled the town before efforts could be made to apprehend him.

After considerably distancing himself from Dragon's Bridge, Gavinyarel removed his armor and other equipment and tossed it all into a random pond in the middle of nowhere. He then walked away, leaving it behind to rot. Knowing he couldn't return to his parents or show his face among the Thalmor again, and incredibly angry with himself to contributing to their progress for so long, Gavinyarel spent the next four years in an angst-ridden rut, trying to drown his problems with vices. Then, in 4E 114, he met with fate. Well drunk and in a particularly dismal mood, Gavinyarel made the illogical and unwise decision to depart the city of Riften in the dead of night. As he stumbled along the road, his vision blurry and hampered by the scant moonlight, he was being stalked by a creature that thrived in the night: a vampire. As luck would have it, fortune smiled on Gavinyarel despite his stupidity, for the vampire was young and so mad for blood, that he completely abandoned stealth once he made for his soused prey. Gavinyarel turned to face the bounding footsteps behind him and was confronted by the wildly slashing claws and glowing golden eyes of a vampire.

[Parzivol]

NAME: Bruoch Horntree

RACE: Reachman

GENDER: Male

AGE: Thirty-three

BIRTHSIGN: The Atronach

HEIGHT: Five Foot, Seven Inches

APPEARANCE: Bruoch is a toadish man with a broad, ugly face, and large lips. His sunken brow suggests to most that he is almost constantly perturbed, while his narrow brown eyes suggest something snake-like and inquisitive in him. Deep creases at the corners of his mouth and on his forehead make him seem a bit older than he really is, and early-balding hair has done little to aid against the illusion. His thick black-brown beard is braided into three thick, dangling ropes of hair. They give him, despite being high-effort hair pieces, a look of lacked refinement. His hair itself is receded back to the middle of his head. What hasn't been lost, however, is long and roped. The hair on his brow is, itself, rather thorough as well. His brow hair suggests something wild in his appearance, and most aids the illusion that he's just one of the more brutal Reachman like those that associate with the Forsworn.

In terms of shape, he is broad. His shoulders and chest are fit, and his long arms and legs are defined enough in musculature to keep him in proportion. Were he any fatter or any thinner though he'd look a bit off-shape. He takes little effort in the taming of his body hair, and is understandably quite ragged as a result. Several scarified symbols are visible on his back. Most notable is a depiction of the stars in the Atronach sign. He calls this, rather lovingly, his Golem. Beyond that, he frequently paints himself in the spiral symbols commonly found in giant camps, mixed with many of the symbols and signs more conventionally used by Reachmen.

EQUIPMENT: He is a more traditional sort, but not nearly as frivolous in decoration as his kinsmen. The result is a mix of basic hides and furs meant to warm and protect mixed with the various bone amulets and decoration pieces worn by Reachmen. His headdress is the most traditional thing on him, and clumsily depicts the deer-head of Hircine with bone, antlers, and elk-hide. He cares little for exposed flesh, especially in the harsh environment common in Skyrim, the Jerals, and the edge territories of High Rock. To facilitate his warmth then, he wears plenty of layered furs. Beyond that though, he has little else. His sandals are carefully designed to aid in his traversal of the rocky terrain of the Reach, and are rather uncomfortable on flat ground. The result is a lot of complaining.

In terms of arms, he keeps light. His work as a guide in the Reach has earned him access to some higher quality materials, including enchanting materials. The resulting tools were a climbing pick, an iron shortsword, and an enchanted knife called Butcher.

His supply pack is a large satchel in which he keeps alchemy ingredients, food, and other useful necessities. He keeps about fifteen feet of hemp rope with him at any one time (though this is often kept tied around his waist and shoulders rather than in his bag), and a fire drill (bow-drill). Out of habit he keeps a handful of soul gems on him, but he does not know the soul trap spell. Finally, he keeps enough extra furs to erect a small fur tent if he must during travels.

PERSONALITY: He's a pious sort, and will often leave offerings to Hircine. He's wary of being too pious, though. Nothing would make him happier than serving Hircine, but he does not want the Wolf Curse or the Bear Curse. He sees them as beneficial but doesn't like the idea of skin-changing.

There are plenty of ways to approach defining Bruoch, but two stand out. He is kind, and passive. He does what he sees as good for the sake of being good, rather than for reward. He is stoic in his emotional inclination, and values hard work above almost all else. His reasoning for becoming a guide for foreigners in Reach land is for those exact reasons: He thinks the Forsworn are too emotional, and sees them as taking the lazy path. He wants to be good, and as such guides people around Forsworn encampments and traps as a profession.

WEAKNESSES: Nothing of any particular oddity is to be noted. Most of his weakness is visible in his attributes, where he's consistently lacking in the luck, personality, and willpower. Beyond that is his lack of magicka regeneration due to his birth season. There's the constant persecution that has to be handled as well, given that few like the Reachmen. Then there's his issue with tech. Ever since he was a small child he's been largely incapable of being around Dwemer tech without things going terribly wrong. The stuff just makes him destructively clumsy when he's near it.

SKILL REPERTOIRE: (Also Attributes)
Endurance Focus, Speed Focus
STEALTH Character
Master: N/A
Expert: Cold Weather Survival, Athletics
Journeyman: Sneak, Medium Armor, Acrobatics
Apprentice: Short Blade, Alchemy

POLITICAL AFFILIATIONS: Informally he supports the Nords in their rebellion against the Empire. His vision of Skyrim is one that's unified. That means Nords, Reachmen, Hagravens, Giants, and the various other local sentients working together. He thinks that the rebellion against the Empire is misguided, however, and that following Ulfric is going to have no long term impact. Specific to the Markarth issue, he supports the Silver-Blood family and the local Nord populations. It's his opinion that forces like Madanach's are working against the well-being of the Reachmen tribes in the area and the well-being of the Nords. His family is from a South-Western pocket that lives on the edge of the Reach and Falkreath Hold, and as such he sees the leadership of those holds and their opinions as favorable to those in other holds. He prefers Dengeir of Stuhn's reign over Siddgeir, who he sees as childish. He is content with the current Jarl of Markarth, though wish the Silver-Blood Clan would simply be given the seat so that it could rule the city with more economic efficiency in mind.

GUILD AFFILIATIONS: None, though he has been contacted at one time or the other by the Companions to act as a guide for finding particularly secluded groves with righteous game to hunt. He does not know their secret.
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BACKSTORY: Bruoch grew up in the South-West Reach with a small tribe that was mostly his extended family. They kept to themselves, and remained distant from the conflicts that preceded the war. He himself has no children, but that's in part due to his choices. While his direct kin are more moderate considering their close relations with local Nords at Falkreath and in the southern Reach, they do not quite approve of Bruoch's decision to actively aid the Nords. Indifference is one thing, help is another. He was almost thrown out when he joined Ulfric's forces in toppling Markarth's brief period of independence. The only thing keeping him with his family was his closeness to his Grandmother, a powerful Hagraven which acted as the matriarch of the family.

When Bruoch was a boy, his cousins didn't hold his attention. His elder brother was a bore, obsessed only with the hunt and politicking about the affairs of the Reachmen and the Nords. He found himself no affection for his female cousins, as he thought of them too well as sisters and so took not to the idea of keeping the family in the family. With no one else around, he tended to his Grandmother. For much of his childhood she was a simple witch, enacting rituals and providing the family magical protections against those few mercenaries or adventurers that attacked them. She was, for much of his life, his idol. When she underwent the ritual to become a Hagraven, he became a tool to her. His willingness as a teenager to prove himself to her and seek her affection was and is easily abused. During this period though, she willingly taught him bits about alchemy. When he was away though, he was sent out to hunt and survey land and track the growth of particular groves. Little did he know, he was planning out an attack against the local Spriggans. His Grandmother needed the sap and taproots of the Spriggans, and so used her Grandson to do the heavy lifting of the information collection.

When sixteen, he was sent alone to kill and collect a Spriggan for use by his grandmother. He did so, though was maimed when one of the creatures cut deep against his chest. Half-bled out, he returned to camp. His grandmother took the whole mess as an indication that he would become the family's first briarheart upon his death, a hint from Hircine that it must be so. Carefully, in an attempt to maintain her nervous grandson's loyalty, she gifted him an enchanted knife. It was unique in its ability to hack through dead flesh and bone with ridiculous efficiency. He keeps and cleans it as a memento, though he has not seen his grandmother for quite the spot.

The plans to undergo such that procedure began and would unfold over several years. He's had difficulties accepting the ritual, however, and has homesteaded at a small site just West of the Whiterun Hold-Reach border, along the main road. His little shack there has been where he's operated for the past three or four years. With rumors of dragons about and other terrifying creatures though, he goes south to the Jerals. He has no real interest in returning to family, though he knows he must one day, and has grown exhausted with his environment. Surely a different set of cold mountains will help him with that? Surely.

Following a tough night just North of this Roxey village he's heard so little about. His stomach turned a bit as he felt through his empty pack. He needed food. And septims. That was a realization that hit him with a bit of weight. He found a bit of Elves Ear near the bottom of his pack and began to chew on it, content on letting that hold him over. Surely he was Stoic enough to last, yes? Most certainly.

It's always a good morning when your first concern is feeding yourself.

[josephb]

NAME: Fendryn Omaren

RACE: Dunmer

GENDER: Male

AGE: 27

BIRTHSIGN: The Steed

HEIGHT: 6'2

APPEARANCE: Fendryn naturally has a lean body. There is hardly a bit of fat on him but that could be due to his diet and upbringing. He has a thick mop of black hair that is messily pushed back, sometimes it's put into a ponytail when he's trying to make himself look presentable. On his cheeks the start of a beard can be seen but is still patchy. He has a slightly pointed chin and big nose but even with these features he's still handsome for a Dunmer. Like all Dark Elves his skin is a slate gray and his eyes are red and his pointed ears stick out of his hair. In his left ear he has ten black gems pierced starting from the top of his ear to the lobe.

EQUIPMENT: Fendryn always wears a leather jerkin over some light iron ringmail. The Jerkin doesn't really offer much protection, but it looks well made and was personally made in the Dunmer style. With the bottom half of his he just wears plain leather graves and boots with a massive, thick olive green olive cloak draped over him, the bottom is ragged and covered in mud as it drapes the floor. On his left hip is a finely made curved steel Long sword custom made to have a larger grip so he can grab it with both hands and on his right is an iron skinning knife. He has a pouch of iron arrows attached to his back and tied to the bottom of that is a bed roll, there is 30 gold septims hidden in the bed roll. He always keeps a pouch of water with him. Fendryn always carries his hunting bow with him.

PERSONALITY: Fendryn is a lot more outgoing than most Dunmers and will interact with everyone and doesn't look down at them like they are a lesser race, but he is very proud to be a Dunmer and would likely get in a fight when his pride is on the line. He likes to have a laugh and listen to stories and songs.

WEAKNESSES: Due to his families poor upbringing, he didn't really have the right diet for someone his size making him not as strong as other people. Also he has a warped image of his family ancestry believing his family would be a lot more respected among other Dunmers. He doesn't really have much real world experience having lived a sheltered upbringing and has never been in a true battle before. He has grown up being taught to hate Argonians by everyone in his village.

SKILL REPERTOIRE: Expert with a blade, A journeyman in marksman, athletics and also in speech. An apprentice in destruction, sneaking and light armour.

POLITICAL AFFILIATIONS: Sides with the Empire but no official ties.

GUILD AFFILIATIONS: None
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BACKSTORY: Fendryn was raised in a small community just outside of Cheydinhal that was created by his Grandfather and a few other fellow Dunmers who had to flee from Vvardenfell after the Red Mountain erupted. They sold their possessions that they managed to flee with and bought a small piece of land North of Cheydinhal. Slowly the homestead started to evolve into a farming community to make money but the lands they owned weren't really made to grow crops and raise animals so they didn't have much.

Fendryn was the fifth and the youngest child to his mother and father, Anis and Uryn. He was the first and only son they had and from an early age his father expected a lot from him. Uryn used to tell stories to Fendryn about how great and powerful their family used to be in Vvardenfell. He made Fendryn believe that it was up to him to regain everything that their family had lost. After they'd finished their jobs for the day, Uryn taught his son how to use a sword. With Uryn being naturally slim as well he taught Fendryn how to use his speed rather than brute strength to defeat his opponent. Once a week they used to go off hunting together, but the only animals that lived in the surrounding areas were rabbits and squirrels. The meat didn't really stretch far between everyone in the community but it was appreciated, it also made Fendryn good with a bow and to be able to go through the woods unseen. His mother tried to teach him some spells when she got time with him but he never really took to it only learning how to cast a simple fire spell.

As Fendryn started to get older, he started to get bored of being a farmer and his Father didn't want him to stay around as well knowing that his son wouldn't be able to make their family rich again, he allowed him to leave to travel. With the growing tensions in Skyrim with the Empire and the Nords, Fendryn knew the Empire would be looking for more men and being in the army was an easy way to make money.

The day before he was set to leave, his father gave him a sword and a leather cuirass that had been specially designed by a Dunmer who lived in Cheydinhal. He'd used money that he'd been putting away for his son for years. In the morning he set off going down the blue road.