[OOC] The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

[POOHEAD189]

@RobeaticsYour character is quite similar to my second one I am making in some ways. Nobleborn turned adventurer who hates necromancy. They'll probably get along famously^^

[ButtsnBalls]

Ok, @Robeatics, here's a list of things for you to do.

• @Dervish asked you to put her spells in a list; please do that.
• Elaborate on how Eirik transitioned from priestess/heiress to crusader.
• Why did she return to Skyrim? Please put in some explanations in her bio.
• Clarify how many years she spent at each sstage of her life. From what I assumed, she left Solitude at the age of 18 (4E 197), studied in the monestary for 3 years till the age of 21 (4E 197-201) and did crusader things for 4 years (4E 201-205). Put this in if this is the case, otherwise, let me know what you have planned differently.
• For Fruits of Contention, spells used by Stendarr priests, the Dawnguard and ESO templars are categorized under light/solar magic. These are distinct from traditional restoration, and require separate skill points (refer to Skills and Weakness hider in first OOC post). My recommendation is dropping 1H blade to adept and add in adept solar magic. This make sense as Eirik didn't spend too long studying the blade.

[POOHEAD189]

Well THIS took forever. But I finally got it done. That was a long backstory.
For your consideration, my 2nd character

Thieving Spellsword

Allen Blackmoore

Male, Breton/Redguard| 26| The Tower

Profile

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Birthplace

High Rock

Appearance

Thief Garb

Warrior Garb

While he would be considered a fairly light skinned resident of Hammerfell, or perhaps a particularly suntanned Imperial from the southern regions, his caramel coloring causes Allen to stick out like a sore thumb in provinces such as Skyrim, or his home in HighRock. He has mannish features, though his Breton heritage allows him to retain a youthful appearance. Allen sports a trim and athletic physique, with dark eyes and shoulder length, unkempt black hair he keeps tied in the back. While his lips are a bit fuller, and his physique is sturdier than the average Breton, save his light chocolate skin, he looks very much akin to them. Some consider him quite handsome, though others find him unnerving by his mixed heritage.

Personality

Allen's personality, while often pragmatic and with a calm and collected demeanor, stems from a very rebellious and mischievous upbringing. He isn't afraid to question authority, or to undermine it if he genuinely sees it as the best course of action. He knows just how pivotal a chain of command is, and would only do so under extreme circumstances, something that he has become more cautious with in recent years due to the need to keep contracts.

He shares the belief that his fellow Bretons do, that with hard work and a little luck, one can aspire to greatness. He enjoys learning, and has a curiosity that many thought would be the death of him in High Rock. He enjoys learning other cultures, and making himself a melting pot of skills and ideas, simply because he feels that such diversity defines him. Being a bastard in a society of such tightly wrought places in society, he felt more fluid and freer in many ways than his family members. He began to use his half parentage as a means of strength, rather than a weakness to be exploited, and took pride at being unique among them.

While he relies on trustworthy tactics and equipment, he cannot help but feel a tug of wonder when it comes to dangerous concoctions or magic artifacts. Sometimes he catches himself doing very daring things, knowing that improvisation is key to surviving. Luckily, he improvises quite good he's discovered. Allen makes fast friends, and isn't above a good drink in a tavern or banter during a job or engagement. In fact, he quite enjoys one liners and having the upper hand in both verbal and martial duels. However, to many common folk, he seems married to his various jobs and sometimes unapproachable. He theorizes that's mainly because he cannot seem to stop his pursuit of his many interests, which leaves many others wondering what on Nirn could keep him busy so often.

Background

Allen never knew his mother, only being in her care for a few short months before his father left for High Rock. He had been told that due to his mother's low station in life, it was best if he was taken back to High Rock and live among the Nobility. His father was William Blackmoore of Daggerfall, one of the minor Lords within the Kingdom. He sired 5 sons, all true heirs save one. William had extensive dealings of trade in the city of Skaven, and one day brought back a babe, who grew to truly look very much like his father, William.

Because of his darker skin and slightly fuller facial structure, many did not take Allen seriously despite his Breton name and features. He was often poked fun of as a child, at least by other Highborn. He took to a life of mischief, discovering he had quite the ability and enjoyment of climbing. The young Allen would often be discovered in someone's home upon the second story window, or perhaps on their roof to simply bask in the sun or watch the stars at night. He would often take food from the table at his house before his more esteemed family members, which in turn led to him becoming quite the food thief in the city (which caused his father two counts of embarrassment, and angry rants at Allen that he would never forget.)

His father did not mistreat him, per say. Of course, his father would give him a hard look if he ever requested the privileges of his brothers. For instance, they were purchased new swords and horses, and thrown extravagant parties for graduations and birthdays. Allen would be given hand-me-downs, and would be lucky to receive more than a few gifts, like a private affair. His father often told him he was lucky to be treated as one of his own, claiming that as a bastard, this was simply the way things were. That he loved him regardless, deep down.

Lord Blackmoor knew that with such mixed blood, to make Allen a representative of the household would simply not do. However, William deemed that Allen would be a Captain of the Guard and protector of his more true born brothers, and perhaps would be accepted into a Knightly Order when he came of age, so as to bring more esteem to the family. So the Lord had Allen trained in swordplay, and tested in magic when he was very young. Thankfully, Allen's Breton heritage did not betray him here, for his magic potential was not lacking.

For what it was worth, Allen enjoyed learning these skills. His training was given by the best Armsmen in the guard, when it came to martial matters. He was taught to read and write, but he was not encouraged to become more learned any further. Allen did that on his own volition, reading subjects such as history, and alchemy (though he never did practice much), and treatises on swordplay and magic use. He was inducted into the Mages Guild at the age of 16, and it was there he met his first love. A Breton woman by the name of Nalia. Things seemed to be looking up for Allen, but the Divines had different plans that Allen slowly came to realize.

By age 18, he was inducted into the guard as its new Captain, the previous one now taking a well deserved retirement. Needless to say, Allen had less free time on his hands, re-configuring the guardsmen to what he deemed necessary, learning the schedules and making a relationship with his quartermaster, sergeants, etc. He was also required with accompanying his brothers and father on important meetings. Still, he did his best to find time to read, and study in the mages guildhall.

Perhaps it was an overwhelming sense of wanderlust that seemed to take him, or perhaps it was his newfound position weighing on him. He could only learn so much of the wider world through books, he knew. Perhaps it was because his new love, his new capabilities, were too good for himself in his eyes. He was not used to such a feeling, nor did he feel he deserved it. The Nine did give more concrete evidence it was nearing the end of one of his cycles in life, with the loss of two of his brothers over a three year period.

He was only 16 when his closest and older brother Beric disappeared. One day, he had simply vanished without a trace. This was something that hit Allen like a mace. He had been Allen's closest friend, and sometimes even a mentor. They'd both had a rebellious streak growing up, something that Allen had not (nor would he) grown out of. Lord Blackmoore looked high and low throughout the city, but they never found traces of Beric. Allen was glad his father went to such lengths to find his older brother, but deep down, he wondered if the Lord would have done the same for him...

It was nearing his 19th birthday when the news reached him that his oldest brother had been assassinated. It came as a shock to many, for he had been an upstanding citizen and seemingly had no rivals, nor offended anyone. It was not until later that love notes with Jezebel Falthoren of the Daggerfall Falthoren Merchant Company were discovered. Her suitor was Donovan Kirkwall, a high ranking Knight in the Ironbrothers. The death of his oldest brother hit him hard, as it did his father. Unfortunately, his father began to blame Allen, citing that it was Allen's duty to keep tabs on his family, to protect them. It was his only duty, and he had failed. Father and son had such a heated argument that the common folk could hear it on the street passing by. It was later that night that Allen made a rash decision. He grabbed a small fortune of his father's money, only as much so it wouldn't be missed but just enough to give him some security, and he fled. He left the city, unable to go against his yearnings to break free any longer. He did not even tell Nalia, for fear of her rejection, for he would have asked her to go with him. Even to this day, he regrets that, and later swore to himself that he would never run from a loved one again.

He arrived in Hammerfell, hiring himself out as a guard for a caravan traveling through Bangkorai. He made it to the city of Skaven within the month. He had never been, and while deep within his heart he hoped he would find his mother, he knew he was here because it was the only convenient place he could end up at the moment. Still, he made the best of it. He sold his sword whenever he could, stealing food when in need but trying to keep his criminal activities to a minimum. Even a few months in the city, he realized the politics of Hammerfell was very abrupt and dangerous. The Crowns and The Forebears were often at odds with one another, though the Crowns seemed to fancy themselves as the rulers of Skaven.

He would remain in Skaven for a year, lending himself out as an extra sword for scouts or caravan guard duty, learning just how the warriors of Hammerfell fought. He went into mock combat with them once or twice, finding their dueling tactics fierce and tough to beat, and very unorthodox. While he wasn't helpless against them, after sparring, and then needing to fight Redguard raiders twice over the course of a year, he understood why they were referred to as the most feared warriors on Tamriel. These were his mother's people, and he felt somewhat more whole with having lived so very close to them.

A year had gone by, and the sun was just fading into the night as Allen made his way back from the marketplace. It seemed the fate decided he'd been walking in the wrong alleyway, for he was jumped by two Redguards. Without thought to the consequences, he unleashed his magic to defend himself (as well as his sword of course) and ran through one of the men, and the other ran.

To his growing horror, he realized just who he had killed. Kneeling down, he found the black and crimson sash of the Duskmoons, a group of Highwaymen and bandits that had made a name for themselves as ruthless cutthroats. Upon further inspection, he realized this man was Frajid, the cousin of the Duskmoon's leader, Jara. The one that got away would tell him who killed his cousin, and worse yet, that Allen was a mage.

He'd seen a few Duskmoon's on the streets, of course. That, and any rogue worth their salt knew to stay away or join them, at least in this section of the city. Allen also had an unfortunate altercation with them at one point, catching one of them cheating at a game in one of the local taverns he had been playing at. It led to Allen getting into a brawl with them, only for the fight to be halted by the appearance of their leader Jara, a man not known for his mercy, but was fair in this instance. He let Allen walk with only a minor beating. He would be far more creative with a punishment this time.

Needless to say, Allen went into hiding, taking no more contracts and keeping to himself. He felt the roads would be watched heavily by Duskmoon scouts, so he decided to lay low. The sun would rise and fall, and he would do his best to go near none of his usual haunts, which meant he decided to go to the one place that he had never been. Essentially, it was where the Crowns resided, the section of the city with the upper class. Towering spires, circular and oval in nature surrounded him like vast trees. Palaces stood between them, like soaring tidal waves of incredible architecture. He couldn't help himself, and began exploring, looking for good places to steal a trinket or two. The Crowns were not wanting, they would not miss a few jewels would they? He staked out the buildings, sleeping at the top of one of the spires. He could remain unseen if he wished, and so far his little project in the High Class area of Skaven was keeping his throat from being slit by the Duskmoons, who were surely looking for him now.

One night, he lay trying to sleep atop one of the spires, merely gazing at the moon and wondering what Nalia was doing. If she was looking at the same moon...
He shook the notion out of his head, and not moments after he had taken himself out of his reverie did he see a curious figure moving through the shadows.
Not below, for even he couldn't see the street well from so high up. But across. Upon one of the other spires, a lithe figure climbed expertly. As he made his way into the moonlight, Allen could see a wicked Knife clenched in the man's teeth.

Allen acted on impulse, making his way down his own spire and upon the closest parapet, his footfalls silent as he traversed the architecture to chase this man who must have had ill intent. He was halfway up the spire in pursuit when he heard a distant cry, and the young Spellsword thief pushed himself to greater speed. Moments later, he vaulted through the oddly shaped window into the chambers of a beautiful Crown woman, who was fighting for her life against this black clad assassin.

She was trained well, having held her own with her curved blade for close to a minute. But any misstep and the Knife wielder would have her. Allen leaped, and sliced the man on the back, causing him to stagger forward, right into the woman's blade. It erupted out of his back, and he slumped forward.

Allen asked if she was harmed, and she shook her head, unable to decipher if Allen was an enemy or not. He explained he was...in trouble in other parts of the city and thought to remain here, to stay hidden. He had seen this man climbing up, and went to investigate. She believed him, introducing herself as Savranah Mirel, and offered one of her necklaces in thanks for his good timing and helping hand. He was going to deny it, because in good faith he was probably going to steal what she was going to give him just then anyway. But...he was a bit enthralled by how pretty she was, and he let her go and get it without saying a word. As she went to fetch it, he slipped the Duskmoon sash onto the dead man's belt, to give the Duskmoons something to worry about now.

When she presented him with the necklace, they both shared a smile, and he graciously accepted. "On one condition," he told her.
"What's that?" she asked.
"Tell whoever asks, it was stolen." he said with a grin and a wink. She was confused, but nodded. He disappeared out the window, with a new jewel and perhaps a reputation.

Naturally, he couldn't stay here, and traveled to Helgathe. It reminded him of the coastal cities of High Rock somewhat, and he stayed there for a time. Two months, he reckoned.
The first two weeks in, he began wearing the jewel the High born had given him. He had thought to sell it, but there was a sense of honor, and indeed haughty arrogance, that had him keep it to wear.
His arrogance, for once, rewarded him. He feared hunters going after him, but instead he received a small contract from what he later to learn was the thieves guild. Despite his thieving and roguish behavior in his younger years, he never did seek the Guild, nor was he sought after. It seemed the reputation of his last altercation had caught up with him.

Once he had stolen a mere trinket from one of the more fortified towers overlooking the city, he began to take other jobs and he gained a few contacts, though when he found an opportunity to earn a living another way, he took it. Not because thieving wasn't exciting, but he found he wanted a blade in his hands again.
He set up as a crewman and hired sword for the ship called the SilverSaber. It was a warship now used for hauling cargo up and down Hammerfell and Cyrodiil. He only felt it was going to be a temporary job, perhaps for a few months. Allen spent three years in the crew, working his way up from deckhand to Quartermaster, and fighting in four engagements, one where he was grievously sick in, and he managed to kill one Imperial who went bellow decks to the crews quarters.

It was nearing his fourth year when they took a special job to haul cargo to Elsweyr. Unfortunately, the ship was badly damaged in a storm and could not make it to its destination. Most of the crew drowned, but a few managed landfall on the shores of Elsweyr. It was a strange land, hot and humid with lowlands surrounded by lone hills of jungle. He was one of the few to live, and couldn't find more than a few corpses having washed ashore. He had kept a hand on his sword, but it was badly soaked and he set it in the sun for a long while to make sure it had as little rust as possible.

He made his way into the countryside and to Torval, where he was cared for by a Khajiit named J'zin-Dar and his three children. During his state of heat exhaustion and starvation, he heard many strange rumors around town that confirmed the rumors he had heard at sea. Many Khajiit were disappearing into the wilderness for no true reason. He found himself in the position to find out why. Once he was healthy, he felt compelled to offer his help. On his honor, and with a few other Khajiit to aid him, they went out in search of recent disappearances.

One week out in their venture, they found Khajiit and Man tracks near one of the jungle hills further east, inland. They found an entrance under the waterfall of vines, making their way in, until they found themselves in a surprisingly dank cavern.

Allen and the Khajiit with him explored the lower depths of the hillside cavern, finding small sleeping areas and bags of supposedly stolen goods, but no people. That is, until they made it three corridors deep, and found the cavern they were in sloping upwards. It led to an upper landing that overlooked the inner canyon of a large cavern. At the center of it was nearly a dozen bound Khajiit, and swordsmen discussing heatedly on how to deal with the intruders that had tripped their traps.

Many of them ran outwards to find those who dare intruded on what was transpiring here. J'zin-Dar and the other Khajiit went back to ambush them, for there was no other way out than where the captors were headed. Allen promised them he would free the Khajiit captives, and he shimmied down the upper cavern to the lower canyon, his sword drawn as he cautiously approached.

A man garbed in black cloth approached him, a one handed blade pointed at Allen's throat. In his offhand, he held a book bound in red and black leather. He asked Allen what his purpose here was, though the Spellsword knew he wouldn't get out of here if he simply walked away. It only took a short exchange of words before he realized this man's goal. To kill the Khajiit for their corpses, and perhaps to harness their life energies for himself. Allen struck the Necromancer first, but his blade was blocked with a deft movement.

The two dueled before the bound Khajiit, the prisoners knowing whoever won this fight decided their fates. Luckily, Allen was victorious after a minute of suspense, using a counter riposte that sent the necromancer stumbling back and bleeding into the stone. The book in his offhand fell onto the ground before Allen, scuffing his boot and opening by its front cover. He was about to kick it away when he saw a familiar script engraved just behind the cover. It was Beric's name penned into the book. It took him many moments to move, but when he did so, it was almost as if he was moving with a mechanical stiffness as he freed the Khajiit. He took a night or two to think on it in his own way, withdrawing into himself. He decided not to remain too long, and felt a wanderlust to flee this place. The book haunted him as he continued to flee the land that brought this revelation, and brought so many questions.

He traveled through the lands of Cyrodiil, heading along the northward roads until he came upon the Black Road leading to Chorrol. He barely made it past a few bandits, and arrived in Chorrol. He stayed there for a few days, road weary. After his time was done, he decided to head northward along the Orange Road. He thought it would be a quiet journey before he came upon footpads robbing a Dunmer merchant. There were four in all, but Allen came upon them from their flanks in a surprise attack, opening with his sword bursting into flames and searing the leader in the back (mid speech). With that, he charged forward on his horse to cut one down before he could properly defend himself.

The Dunmer merchant attempted to flee, but was stabbed by one of the highwaymen as Allen fought the second, finishing them both individually after having received a rough gash across his head and shoulder, as well as a stroke upon his blade that had broken it through its center. He wiped the blood from his vision, but realized he could not heal the wound in the dying Dunmer merchant. The Dunmer thanked him for attempting to help, but asked two boons of Allen. To take a letter to the Dunmer's sister in Dawnstar (named Ferain, a smith), and to take his fine steel longsword as a gift for Allen's aid.

Allen traveled northward with his new blade and a final mission. He had just given the Dunmer's sister her letter, and has been in Dawnstar for only a day, having heard of a band led by one named Ashav...

Capabilities

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Skills

• One Handed Blade (Expert)
• Alteration (Adept)
• Enchanting (Adept)
• Sneak (Adept)
• Acrobatics (Apprentice)
• Light Armor (Novice)
• Atheltics (Novice)
• Pick Pocketing (Novice)

Weaknesses

Risk Taker: While he isn't an idiot, and indeed knows the value of a sneak attack, he tends to fight more enemies than he can handle, overestimating his abilities. He sometimes performs maneuvers that could endanger himself, such as leaping upon an enemy from up high or fighting on uneven footing.

Criminal/Incriminating Record: He is a known thief in Hammerfell, and a known escapee (and granted, thief) from High Rock. While it is unlikely he will be pursued to Skyrim, he knows he's made many enemies and pursuers over the years. Someday it might come back to bite him in the ass.

Conjuration Hatred/Fear: Due to his time in Hammerfell, as well as the incident with his late brother Beric, he has an uncomfortable relationship with Conjuration, which borderlines on a phobia when it comes to Necromancy. It brings him vivid dreams of mutilated innocents and his brother's tarnished image laughing at him.

Hero Complex: He's far less of a hero than most Knights or Goodly Crusaders, but he has a nasty habit (at least in his opinion) of getting involved in things he shouldn't to help others. He has a soft spot for helping women in need, though it's not done him a disservice...so far.

Childhood Back Injury: Being an avid climber in his youth, it was one day before the 10th year of his life that he fell from a dozen feet off the ground to hit a chair with his lower back. It broke a vertebrae, and while the healing spells allowed to bone to mend, it left him with musculature problems in his lower back. While he still climbs and leaps and spins, he needs to stretch every morning or risk being stiff the rest of the day. If his lower back is hit with sufficient force again, he'll need a serious healer in order to function normally.

Spells

• Feather
• Shield
• Water Walking
• Water Breathing
• Open
• Fire (Sword Enchantment)
• Storm (Sword Enchantment)
• Banish (Sword enchantment)

Tactics

Allen has always been varied on how he chooses to fight his foes, due to his wide ranging skill-set of spells and melee attacks. When fighting a single opponent, he tends to fight one on one via his sword, though he isn't above using enchantments on his blade. If he is fighting multiple opponents, he opens with an offensive spell/rush attack, or he dispatches one or two foes with a sneak attack to demoralize his opponents before fighting them more traditionally with his blade.

Relations & Affiliations

• Thieves Guild
• Knights of the Silver Fist
• Ferain (Dunmer Smith)
• Savranah Mirel (High-Born Crown woman)
• J'zin-Dar and his Village (Khajiit)

Opinions

(For group members; fill after IC introduction)

Other

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Inventory

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Cash

23 Gold

Keys & Lockpicks

...

Tools & Crafting Materials

...

Clothing & Armor

• Chain-mail
• Hammerfell garb

Weapon & Ammo

• Fine Steel Longsword
• Iron Dagger

Potion & Arcane Supplies

• Spellbook
• Moderate Health Potion
• 4 Soul Gems

Jewelry & Valuables

• Savranah's Necklace
• 3 Amethysts
• 2 Diamonds

Books & Documents

Spell book (listed above)

Food/Drinks/Ingredients

• Flask of Wine
• Bottle of Water
• Venison

Load Bearing Equipment

Rucksack

Other

...

[Robeatics]

@Dervish,@gcold, I'll get right on that! I appreciate the feedback. One concern of mine, though. Will dropping Blade down to adept spread her skills too thin? I don't want to be a min/maxer or anything, but seeing as Eirik isn't going to be fighting undead all the time, I figured it'd be a better idea to give her Expert on a combat skill that is effective against just about every opponent. In this case, I could perhaps swap out adept Restoration with adept Solar, and just say in her backstory that she studied Sun Fire and such Solar spells exclusively.

[ButtsnBalls]

@Robeatics, adept blade is still very much viable. In fact, 1H blade is already one of the most heavily represented expertise in our cast, which means you are making Eirik more unique as a generalist. Don't worry about her usefulness in battle; I can guarantee you that these solar spells will come in handy.

[ButtsnBalls]

One more thing, @Robeatics. You need to give Eirik a secure carrying device for her 150 Septims.

[POOHEAD189]

@Dervish@gcoldIt's no hurry, but tagging y'all for me posting my 2nd character sheet just in case. Forgot to.

[Dervish]

@POOHEAD189 I'll get to it when Spaceballs 2 comes out in theaters.

[Robeatics]

Redux! However, I couldn't find any spell lists for Solar magic specifically, so I just split Restoration into anti-undead glowy shit and healing glowy shit. Please let me know if you have a more extensive resource for me to pull from.

Eirik Eiriksdóttir

Eirik Eiriksdóttir

Female Nord | 25 | The Lover

Profile

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Birthplace

Solitude, Skyrim

Appearance

Eirik stands at about 5’10”, with an average, athletic build. She keeps her long blonde hair braided back with a leather cord, which is removed daily for meticulous brushing. Overall, she keeps a tidy appearance when she can, with well-groomed fingernails, teeth, and attire. She carries herself with confidence, and presents strangers and friends alike with the same cheery smile. She lacks a strong Nordic accent, and speaks with clear enunciation and an energetic cadence. She takes care to polish her armor when stealth is not needed, which results in giving her the appearance of an ornament with legs.

Personality

Having been surrounded by nobility and traders all her life, Eirik knows the value of having friends all over Tamriel. She’s quick to jump to the aid of many, even without offer of reward, and frequently trades favors for favors with her companions. She’s quick-tongued and bright, and enjoys humming all manner of songs on the road, from Nordic children’s rhymes to Stendarrian hymns. However, she has a certain sarcastic streak, and seems more willing to get up to trouble than one would expect from a crusader of her faith. She is well-versed in the art of dealmaking, and, excepting cases that conflict with her principles, prefers compromise over argument.

Despite her experiences, Eirik remains hopeful that there’s an innate good in people that is only tarnished by the influence of Daedra and dark magics. Her overall view of the world could be considered romantic; she approaches most dangers with starry-eyed fervor and a prayer shouted like a war cry. To those she can’t manage to charm, she may seem arrogant, naive, and spoiled, focused overly on her appearance and reputation. She doesn’t try to be obvious about her exclusive interest in women, but still yearns for romance, and is easily pulled into others’ arms if she thinks they might actually care for her.

She heavily disapproves of Daedra worship and despises the undead, and will hunt signs of the latter with dogged determination. While she prefers the comforts of a furnished suite, she finds camping and “rough-and-tumble” living to be quaint, and considers poverty the ultimate test of faith (though would not wallow in it willingly).

Background

Background

Eirik Eiriksdóttir was born the eldest daughter of Eirik and Ysol Eiriksson, two nobles of Solitude who had holdings in many businesses around Tamriel. She was wet-nursed by the Imperial Calia, who cared for Eirik through much of her childhood and served as her handmaid in later years. Calia studied and worshipped the Divines fervently, and took Eirik to the temple whenever she could. As Eirik grew older, she was tutored in etiquette, business, and self defense. She grew close to one of her mentors, a retired knight who regaled her with embellished tales of his youth, and yearned to grow up to be just like him. He was entertained by and encouraged her fantasy, perhaps assuming that she would grow out of it and take on the responsibility of her parent’s work.

Now a young woman of sixteen, Ysol began pushing Eirik to attend various parties, hoping to catch the attention of the Nord bachelor Sirkaar Craven. While her parents urged her to marry him, Eirik took little interest in him, much to their irritation. Following an explosive argument, Eirik stormed out of her estate and onto the streets. She found herself drawn to the poor district, and somehow envied the beggars and urchins for their “simple lives”. After convincing a tavern owner of her adulthood, she drank herself into a stupor and awoke the next morning with a whore in her bed. While Eirik threw on her clothing in a panic, the Bosmer woman explained that Eirik approached her in the tavern and waved coin in her face.

Eirik escaped the tavern, determined to never do such a thing again. But over the weeks, hazy memories of that night drifted through her thoughts. She finally relented and entered a courtship with Sirkaar, planning to marry him in a matter of months. She resented her parents for expecting her to take charge of the family trade, she hated her droning history lessons, and she found herself despising Sirkaar, despite his general friendliness. Drawn to the debauchery, she dressed in commoner’s clothes and found herself in the same tavern. She began to visit the whore, Sidra, almost weekly, coming up with an array of lies for her parents. Sidra enjoyed the high-paying encounters, and the two women began to develop an odd sort of companionship. Eirik, blinded by hopes of impossible romance, began to buy gifts for Sidra, sometimes at great expense. She began stealing out of her parent’s coinpurses to satisfy both Sidra and the Bosmer’s addiction to moon sugar.

Eirik’s escapades wouldn’t last, however. Ysol grew suspicious of Eirik’s sudden interest in weekly “hunting trips”, and had Calia follow Eirik. When Calia saw Eirik and Sidra disappear into a tavern room, she hurried back to Ysol. After terrifying their daughter with an explosion of rage, Eirik’s parents banished her from Solitude, at least until rumors of the scandal died out. Eirik felt betrayed by Calia, who had always been Eirik’s confidante and mother figure. Such a betrayal damaged her ability to trust for years, and left her bitter and rebellious. Sirkaar married a different young noblewoman within the year.

She was sent to a temple of Stendarr in High Rock, to study the Divines and atone for her dalliances. The first few months, she raised hell for the monks there, constantly attempting to escape back to Sidra. But the temple sat high in the mountains, spelling certain death for anyone trying to leave without provisions and a sense of direction. Not only that, but many of the monks were retired Vigilants, lending them a severity and strength-of-will that crushed Eirik’s tantrums and appeals. Slowly, her ache over Sidra waned, until she convinced herself that the Bosmer had only toyed with Eirik’s emotions for gold and gifts. Her fury tempered by shame, Eirik ceased her escape attempts and worked toward the sort of piety that might let her abandon her lust altogether. She settled into her new life, finding freedom in simply being away from her family.

The monks, pleased with this turnabout, accepted her into their fold. The temple head, an old Redguard by the name of Roland, tasked her with many arduous and loathsome chores. As she grumbled through these tasks, he would recite the tenets of Stendarr, convincing her that her dissatisfaction with her life was the influence of the Daedra Lords. Roland cited Daedra and their trickery as the source of every evil in the world. Being so surrounded by this rhetoric, Eirik threw herself upon it. Privately, it served as an excuse for her failings as an heiress and daughter.

She shared her dreams of knighthood with Roland, and claimed to cast these aside as shallow and childish. She begged him and the other monks to teach her the ways of "true" gallantry--killing Daedra. Seeing potential, Roland relented, and mentored her in the magics he wielded in his youth: Enchanting, Solar, and Restoration. On the night of Eirik's twentieth birthday, in the stillness of winter, Roland gave Eirik a final test of her training. He brought her into his quarters and gave her his most prized possession, the silver blade he'd used in his time as a Vigilant. She was tasked with enchanting it using her knowledge of Solar magic--running the risk of ruining Roland's treasure should she fail.

Hours later, at the dawn of the next day, Eirik presented Roland with the enchanted blade. He rewarded her with his shield and armor, and proclaimed her as a reborn servant of Stendarr's will. Filled with pride, she prepared to finally leave the temple and set out on her own, her purpose in life realized.

But, not long after, in the spring of 4E 201, Eirik received a letter from her mother. Ysol explained that Eirik’s little brother had taken up the yoke of the family business, that her father was very sick, and that the civil unrest in Skyrim was reaching dangerous heights. Eirik quickly traveled to Solitude, and aided her family in relocating to their winter home in Anvil. Days later, her father passed in his sleep and was buried by the sea. The vulnerability her mother displayed in the preceding days frightened Eirik. As their failed daughter, Eirik could find no way to both comfort Ysol and reconcile her own feelings on her distant father's passing. Unsure of her place in her family anymore, Eirik quietly took the gold given from her father’s will and returned to High Rock.

She bought passage to Hammerfell from a caravan traveling near the temple, and soon found herself in Skaven. Ever-hungry for adventure, she was drawn to the company of an outspoken fellow traveler, a battle-priest of Stendarr. The Ohmes woman had already begun to gather others of similar aspirations, and altogether they sought to erase corruption and protect innocents, following the laws set by the Divines.

The group wound through the south, going by ship to the wilds of Valenwood. In each village they visited, they spent a week or two investigating its rumors of unholy activity. In most cases, it was baseless gossip, but Eirik reveled in the occasional raid on cultist caves and witch dens. Upon saving a noble’s wife from vampires near Greenheart, Eirik was gifted an antlered circlet. She considered it her most prized possession, a trophy of her deeds rather than her birthright.

She continued her work for years, accruing skill and experience, until one night when her companions found themselves in mainland Morrowind, intending to investigate rumors of witchcraft. As they slept in the inn of a remote village, Eirik was attacked by two masked men. She managed to kill one and incapacitate the other, and rushed to the rooms of her fellows. Seeing that they were missing, she turned on her remaining attacker and terrified him into telling her where they were. He revealed himself as the student of a powerful Dunmer necromancer in the area, who had been capturing travelers for her experiments.

Eirik was horrified, and forced the man to lead her to his master’s lair. She charged into the lair, prepared to face the necromancer in a great battle--but the Dunmer was a very careful woman, and prepared to escape the moment she suspected two of her minions had failed. Eirik only saw her face once before she slipped away. The necromancer didn’t care for such a rude departure, however, and left a gift for Eirik: the zombies of her comrades, who wounded Eirik grievously while she was overcome with grief. She killed them in a grueling skirmish, and as she lay gasping on the floor of that dank lair, a new lust for vengeance burned in her soul. After weeks of recovery, she left Morrowind alone.

Wandering back to High Rock, she surrendered to the temple, wishing to cleanse herself of the weakness inside her that cost her companions their lives. Having lost her hand to the necromancer, she and her mentors worked for months on ways to replace it. After voyaging to Daggerfall in search of an expert enchanter, sharing her research, and draining much of her remaining funds, she had it. But she had an emptiness within that went deeper than the loss of her arm. She'd lost friends of five years, and despite being much less worthy than the others, she was spared death. Feeling more lost than she had when her father passed, a certain homesickness overtook her. Being only sixteen when she was banished, she'd never had the chance to see what lay beyond Solitude's holdings. Now, she finds herself wandering Skyrim, searching for another band of companions to keep her distracted.

Capabilities

---

Skills

Adept:
One-handed Blade
Enchanting
Solar Magic
Restoration
Mercantile
Apprentice:
Speech
Shield
Novice:
Heavy Armor

Weaknesses

Repressed: Eirik is much more inclined to trust beautiful women, and despite her best efforts, is easily seduced. She finds herself also tempted by promises of adventure and glory, and may stray from the temperance and self-discipline her faith teaches in pursuit of these lofty ideas.

Staunchly Principled: Eirik finds little reason in trusting conjurers and Daedra worshippers. She refuses to trust any practitioner of necromancy, and will usually attack them if she knows of their actions without a doubt.

Prejudiced: Eirik resents the Dunmer as a whole, believing their culture to be harsh and self-serving. This prejudice stems mainly from her trauma in Morrowind, and how coldly many of the locals treated her. She doesn’t protest discrimination on the grounds of “safety”, such as banning dark elves from businesses or cities due to fear of criminal activity. To a much lesser, subconscious extent, she assumes most orcs, khajiit and argonians are brutish or primitive. While she doesn’t accept automatic, open discrimination of these races, she’s surprised by those who defy stereotypes.

Prosthetic: Eirik was forced to amputate her left arm below the elbow after her Morrowind encounter. She’s since replaced it with a steel prosthetic suitable for wielding her shield. She can position her fingers and lock them into place with her right hand, but cannot move the fingers on their own. She hides the fake arm under her armor and gauntlet, and is somewhat ashamed of the weakness it represents. The prosthetic cannot hold anything in its grip exceeding a few pounds, though the leather straps keeping the prosthetic attached are very sturdy.

Phantom Limb: Eirik experiences a constant throb in her missing limb, and while usually ignorable, when she first wakes in the morning, the pain can be almost paralyzing. She spends a good amount of time massaging the end of her left arm to ease the pain before she sleeps, and if she cannot perform this ritual, she’ll be struggling to sleep through the night. The pain flares up whenever she casts with her prosthetic, to the point that overcharged spells can cause her to black out.

Noble Upbringing: Eirik can’t shake a certain standard of living she’s always felt entitled to. While she doesn’t mind staying in cheap inns or campsites, she can’t bear sleeping in the cold or missing meals. Injury is especially catastrophic for her, and if she experiences continued pain beyond her threshold, she’ll ignore most other matters and focus on easing that pain as quickly as possible.

Stunted: Despite her experiences, she seems unable to change the view on the world she’s had since she was a child. She is very slow to learn from her mistakes, is gullible, and often reacts badly to extensive criticism.

Spells

Solar Magic: Sun Fire, Turn Undead, Repel Lesser Undead, Vampire's Bane, Stendarr's Aura

Restoration: Cure Disease, Cure Poison, Healing, Fast Healing, Healing Hands, Close Wounds, Lesser/Steadfast/Greater Ward, Heal Other

Tactics

Eirik prefers to keep to the front lines, smashing into enemies shield-first and putting her blade through their face while they recover. When facing undead, she is somewhat more strategic, keeping her distance with magic until charging in for the kill. She employs Turn Undead occasionally, but prefers spells in the vein of Sun Fire and, against tougher opponents, Vampire’s Bane. Rarely, she’ll engulf herself in flame with Stendarr’s Aura, but finds it extremely draining, and only uses it in emergencies.

Ever the aspiring hero, Eirik will recklessly place herself between danger and a more lightly-armored ally, relying on her stalwart defenses perhaps too confidently. She is used to and prefers fighting with allies, and is very astute in calling out warnings and split-second strategy. She revels in the rush of combat, though is rarely one to treat her opponents cruelly, giving quick, clean deaths.

Relations & Affiliations

Eirik’s relationship with her family is strained at best, with Ysol wishing her daughter could elect a vocation that isn’t likely to send her to an early grave. Eirik is very guarded emotionally with her mother. Kjeld, Eirik’s younger brother, is somewhat pleased that he was able to take control of the family business after his sister’s banishment, but still cares for Eirik, and worries for her safety.

She has a few ties with the Vigilants of Stendarr, and a few very indirect ties with the Dawnguard, but can’t expect much aid from either. However, the monks from the temple in which she was trained are always ready to offer lodging and whatever support they can.

Opinions

(For group members; fill after IC introduction)

Other Capabilites

She doesn't seem to be bothered as much by cold weather; her handwriting is impeccable; she has a fair knowledge of higher-profile merchants within her family's sphere; she's a flirtatious drunk.

Inventory

---

Cash

150 Septims

Keys & Lockpicks

1 Key to her lockbox. It's tethered to one of her prosthetic shoulder straps, and is tucked under her armor close to her chest.

Tools & Crafting Materials

3 Common soul gems (Charged)

1 Travel enchanting kit. This includes 6 etched stones, a mounted focusing crystal, a troll skull, and a small bundle of candles.

Clothing & Armor

1 Set of simple clothing: undergarments, warm woolen pants, billowy tunic, two pairs of socks, sturdy leather belt, and a dark blue cloak.

1 Set of heavy steel armor and chainmail over a woolen gambeson. The armor is accented with fur for comfort.

1 Antlered headpiece. The antlers are connected to the steel headpiece in such a way that they'd be easily detached if grabbed, and the "gems" in the crown are simple glass.

1 Steel shield.

Weapon & Ammo

1 Silver shortsword, "Yoketu". It has been enchanted with Sun Fire, and bursts into flame upon touching undead flesh.

1 Steel dagger. Mostly used for cutting food and soap.

Potion & Arcane Supplies

None

Jewelry & Valuables

1 Simple wooden pendant, carved in the shape of a stag's head.

Books & Documents

None

Food/Drinks/Ingredients

1 Week’s rations. Consists of tough jerky, nuts, berries, and hardtack.

1 Waterskin

1 Drinking horn

Load Bearing Equipment

1 Leather pack. Equipped with smaller pouches and loops on the outside for her torches, bedroll, skull, and shield when she isn’t wearing it.

1 Belt. Equipped with smaller pouches, a coinpurse, and a sheath for her sword and side dagger. The coinpurse contains 20 Septims.

1 Iron lockbox. Contains 130 Septims. It's small enough to fit deep within her pack.

Other

1 Enchanted prosthetic. It’s covered in intricate etchings which fill with light whenever she casts a spell, focusing her magicka into a rune on her palm. Not only does this allow her to cast through her prosthetic, but this concentrates her magicka effortlessly, allowing her to cast more potent spells than she might from her real hand. It attaches through a light leather harness which braces against her tricep and loops around her shoulders.

1 Light bedroll

1 Firestarter kit

1 Hygiene kit. Includes a sprig of mint leaves and rough scrubbing cloth for the teeth, a few small vials of scented oils, a comb, and a block of lavender soap.

2 Torches

[ButtsnBalls]

@POOHEAD189

---

@Robeatics, praise the sun!

The modifications you made are spot on. Before you post to the characters tab, feel free to grab a spell or two from ESO templar's Dawn's Wrath skill tree (everything except for Nova is fair game).

[MacabreFox]

I'll be home later today, if the prompt is still going, I'd like to get a stab at Sevine's ancestry.

IDEA: Varg-t'uk is an ancient Nord surname. Translated it means, Wolf-Tooth. However many generations ago, one of Sevine's forefathers fought a wolf and stole its teeth after killing the beast with his bare hands. After skinning the wolf that tried to kill him in his sleep, he removes the teeth, and wears them as dentures of the sort 🤔

[ButtsnBalls]

@MacabreFox, the prompt is open as long as I am procrastinating.

[MacabreFox]

@MacabreFox, the prompt is open as long as I am procrastinating.

@gcold

Thank goodness 😅

[ButtsnBalls]

Announcement: the following skills will no longer be available for expertise when creating new characters. This is due to their overabdunce in our existing cast.

• 1H blade
• Marksman
• Destruction

[ButtsnBalls]

And on a more cheerful note: dual wielding is now making it's debut as a combat skill.

Edit: also added Kothringi as an extinct language, and imga whispering as wildlife communication.

[Chrononaut]

And on a more cheerful note: dual wielding is now making it's debut as a combat skill.

Edit: also added Kothringi as an extinct language, and imga whispering as wildlife communication.

@Gcold

Hold on, making a duel wielding samurai who uses alteration spells to make his reaction speed really fast so he can cut arrows out of the air.

[Dervish]

Well THIS took forever. But I finally got it done. That was a long backstory.
For your consideration, my 2nd character

Thieving Spellsword

Allen Blackmoore

Male, Breton/Redguard| 26| The Tower

Profile

---

Birthplace

High Rock

Appearance

Thief Garb

Warrior Garb

While he would be considered a fairly light skinned resident of Hammerfell, or perhaps a particularly suntanned Imperial from the southern regions, his caramel coloring causes Allen to stick out like a sore thumb in provinces such as Skyrim, or his home in HighRock. He has mannish features, though his Breton heritage allows him to retain a youthful appearance. Allen sports a trim and athletic physique, with dark eyes and shoulder length, unkempt black hair he keeps tied in the back. While his lips are a bit fuller, and his physique is sturdier than the average Breton, save his light chocolate skin, he looks very much akin to them. Some consider him quite handsome, though others find him unnerving by his mixed heritage.

Personality

Allen's personality, while often pragmatic and with a calm and collected demeanor, stems from a very rebellious and mischievous upbringing. He isn't afraid to question authority, or to undermine it if he genuinely sees it as the best course of action. He knows just how pivotal a chain of command is, and would only do so under extreme circumstances, something that he has become more cautious with in recent years due to the need to keep contracts.

He shares the belief that his fellow Bretons do, that with hard work and a little luck, one can aspire to greatness. He enjoys learning, and has a curiosity that many thought would be the death of him in High Rock. He enjoys learning other cultures, and making himself a melting pot of skills and ideas, simply because he feels that such diversity defines him. Being a bastard in a society of such tightly wrought places in society, he felt more fluid and freer in many ways than his family members. He began to use his half parentage as a means of strength, rather than a weakness to be exploited, and took pride at being unique among them.

While he relies on trustworthy tactics and equipment, he cannot help but feel a tug of wonder when it comes to dangerous concoctions or magic artifacts. Sometimes he catches himself doing very daring things, knowing that improvisation is key to surviving. Luckily, he improvises quite good he's discovered. Allen makes fast friends, and isn't above a good drink in a tavern or banter during a job or engagement. In fact, he quite enjoys one liners and having the upper hand in both verbal and martial duels. However, to many common folk, he seems married to his various jobs and sometimes unapproachable. He theorizes that's mainly because he cannot seem to stop his pursuit of his many interests, which leaves many others wondering what on Nirn could keep him busy so often.

Background

Allen never knew his mother, only being in her care for a few short months before his father left for High Rock. He had been told that due to his mother's low station in life, it was best if he was taken back to High Rock and live among the Nobility. His father was William Blackmoore of Daggerfall, one of the minor Lords within the Kingdom. He sired 5 sons, all true heirs save one. William had extensive dealings of trade in the city of Skaven, and one day brought back a babe, who grew to truly look very much like his father, William.

Because he was not a true born heir, many did not take Allen seriously despite his Breton name and features. He was often poked fun of as a child, at least by other Highborn. He took to a life of mischief, discovering he had quite the ability and enjoyment of climbing. The young Allen would often be discovered in someone's home upon the second story window, or perhaps on their roof to simply bask in the sun or watch the stars at night. He would often take food from the table at his house before his more esteemed family members, which in turn led to him becoming quite the food thief in the city (which caused his father two counts of embarrassment, and angry rants at Allen that he would never forget.)

His father did not mistreat him truly, however he did not treat him as well as his brothers. Claiming that as a bastard, this was simply the way things were, and that he loved him regardless deep down. His father knew that with such mixed blood, to make Allen a representative of the household would simply not do. However, William deemed that Allen would be a Captain of the Guard and protector of his more true born brothers, and perhaps would be accepted into a Knightly Order when he came of age, so as to bring more esteem to the family. So the Lord had Allen trained in swordplay, and tested in magic when he was very young. Thankfully, Allen's Breton heritage did not betray him here, for his magic potential was not lacking.

For what it was worth, Allen enjoyed learning these skills. He was taught to read and write, but he was not encouraged to become more learned any further. Allen did that on his own volition, reading subjects such as history, and alchemy (though he never did practice much), and treatises on swordplay and magic use. He was inducted into the Mages Guild at the age of 16, and it was there he met his first love. A Breton woman by the name of Nalia. Things seemed to be looking up for Allen, but the Divines had different plans that Allen slowly came to realize.

Perhaps it was an overwhelming sense of wanderlust that seemed to take him. He could only learn so much of the wider world through books, he knew. Perhaps it was because his new love, his new capabilities, were too good. He was not used to such a feeling, nor did he feel he deserved it. The Nine did give more concrete evidence it was nearing the end of one of his cycles in life, with the loss of two of his brothers over a three year period.

He was only 16 when his closest and older brother Beric disappeared. One day, he had simply vanished without a trace. This was something that hit Allen like a mace. He had been Allen's closest friend, and sometimes even a mentor. They'd both had a rebellious streak growing up, something that Allen had not (nor would he) grown out of. Lord Blackmoore looked high and low throughout the city, but they never found traces of Beric. Allen was glad his father went to such lengths to find his older brother, but deep down, he wondered if the Lord would have done the same for him...

It was nearing his 19th birthday when the news reached him that his oldest brother had been assassinated. It came as a shock to many, for he had been an upstanding citizen and seemingly had no rivals, nor offended anyone. It was not until later that love notes with Jezebel Falthoren of the Daggerfall Falthoren Merchant Company were discovered. Her suitor was Donovan Kirkwall, a high ranking Knight in the Ironbrothers. The death of his oldest brother hit him hard, as it did his father. Unfortunately, his father began to blame Allen, citing that it was Allen's duty to keep tabs on his family, to protect them. It was his only duty, and he had failed. Father and son had such a heated argument that the common folk could hear it on the street passing by. It was later that night that Allen made a rash decision. He grabbed a small fortune of his father's money, only as much so it wouldn't be missed but just enough to give him some security, and he fled. He left the city, unable to go against his yearnings to break free any longer. He did not even tell Nalia, for fear of her rejection, for he would have asked her to go with him. Even to this day, he regrets that, and later swore to himself that he would never run from a loved one again.

He arrived in Hammerfell, hiring himself out as a guard for a caravan traveling through Bangkorai. He made it to the city of Skaven within the month. He had never been, and while deep within his heart he hoped he would find his mother, he knew he was here because it was the only convenient place he could end up at the moment. Still, he made the best of it. He sold his sword whenever he could, stealing food when in need but trying to keep his criminal activities to a minimum. Even a few months in the city, he realized the politics of Hammerfell was very abrupt and dangerous. The Crowns and The Forebears were often at odds with one another, though the Crowns seemed to fancy themselves as the rulers of Skaven.

He would remain in Skaven for a year, lending himself out as an extra sword for scouts or caravan guard duty, learning just how the warriors of Hammerfell fought. He went into mock combat with them once or twice, finding their dueling tactics fierce and tough to beat, and very unorthodox. While he wasn't helpless against them, after sparring, and then needing to fight Redguard raiders twice over the course of a year, he understood why they were referred to as the most feared warriors on Tamriel. These were his mother's people, and he felt somewhat more whole with having lived so very close to them.

A year had gone by, and the sun was just fading into the night as Allen made his way back from the marketplace. It seemed the fate decided he'd been walking in the wrong alleyway, for he was jumped by two Redguards. Without thought to the consequences, he unleashed his magic to defend himself (as well as his sword of course) and ran through one of the men, and the other ran.

To his growing horror, he realized just who he had killed. Kneeling down, he found the black and crimson sash of the Duskmoons, a group of Highwaymen and bandits that had made a name for themselves as ruthless cutthroats. Upon further inspection, he realized this man was Frajid, the cousin of the Duskmoon leader, Jara. The one that got away would tell him who killed his cousin, and worse yet, that Allen was a mage.

He went into hiding, taking no more contracts and keeping to himself. The sun would rise and fall, and he would do his best to go near none of his usual haunts, which meant he decided to go to the one place that he had never been. Essentially, it was where the Crowns resided, the section of the city with the upper class. Towering spires, circular and oval in nature surrounded him like vast trees. Palaces stood between them, like soaring tidal waves of incredible architecture. He couldn't help himself, and began exploring, looking for good places to steal a trinket or two. The Crowns were not wanting, they would not miss a few jewels would they? He staked out the buildings, sleeping at the top of one of the spires. He could remain unseen if he wished, and so far his little project in the High Class area of Skaven was keeping his throat from being slit by the Duskmoons, who were surely looking for him now.

One night, he lay trying to sleep atop one of the spires, merely gazing at the moon and wondering what Nalia was doing. If she was looking at the same moon...
He shook the notion out of his head, and not moments after he had taken himself out of his reverie did he see a curious figure moving through the shadows.
Not below, for even he couldn't see the street well from so high up. But across. Upon one of the other spires, a lithe figure climbed expertly. As he made his way into the moonlight, Allen could see a wicked Knife clenched in the man's teeth.

Allen acted on impulse, making his way down his own spire and upon the closest parapet, his footfalls silent as he traversed the architecture to chase this man who must have had ill intent. He was halfway up the spire in pursuit when he heard a distant cry, and the young Spellsword thief pushed himself to greater speed. Moments later, he vaulted through the oddly shaped window into the chambers of a beautiful Crown woman, who was fighting for her life against this black clad assassin.

She was trained well, having held her own with her curved blade for close to a minute. But any misstep and the Knife wielder would have her. Allen leaped, and sliced the man on the back, causing him to stagger forward, right into the woman's blade. It erupted out of his back, and he slumped forward.

Allen asked if she was harmed, and she shook her head, unable to decipher if Allen was an enemy or not. He explained he was...in trouble in other parts of the city and thought to remain here, to stay hidden. He had seen this man climbing up, and went to investigate. She believed him, introducing herself as Savranah Mirel, and offered one of her necklaces in thanks for his good timing and helping hand. He was going to deny it, because in good faith he was probably going to steal what she was going to give him just then anyway. But...he was a bit enthralled by how pretty she was, and he let her go and get it without saying a word. As she went to fetch it, he slipped the Duskmoon sash onto the dead man's belt, to give the Duskmoons something to worry about now.

When she presented him with the necklace, they both shared a smile, and he graciously accepted. "On one condition," he told her.
"What's that?" she asked.
"Tell whoever asks, it was stolen." he said with a grin and a wink. She was confused, but nodded. He disappeared out the window, with a new jewel and perhaps a reputation.

Naturally, he couldn't stay here, and traveled to Helgathe. It reminded him of the coastal cities of High Rock somewhat, and he stayed there for a time. Two months, he reckoned.
The first two weeks in, he began wearing the jewel the High born had given him. He had thought to sell it, but there was a sense of honor, and indeed haughty arrogance, that had him keep it to wear.
His arrogance, for once, rewarded him. He feared hunters going after him, but instead he received a small contract from what he later to learn was the thieves guild. Despite his thieving and roguish behavior in his younger years, he never did seek the Guild, nor was he sought after. It seemed the reputation of his last altercation had caught up with him.

Once he had stolen a mere trinket from one of the more fortified towers overlooking the city, he began to take other jobs and he gained a few contacts, though when he found an opportunity to earn a living another way, he took it. Not because thieving wasn't exciting, but he found he wanted a blade in his hands again.
He set up as a crewman and hired sword for the ship called the SilverSaber. It was a warship now used for hauling cargo up and down Hammerfell and Cyrodiil. He only felt it was going to be a temporary job, perhaps for a few months. Allen spent three years in the crew, working his way up from deckhand to Quartermaster, and fighting in four engagements, one where he was grievously sick in, and he managed to kill one Imperial who went bellow decks to the crews quarters.

It was nearing his fourth year when they took a special job to haul cargo to Elsweyr. Unfortunately, the ship was badly damaged in a storm and could not make it to its destination. Most of the crew drowned, but a few managed landfall on the shores of Elsweyr. It was a strange land, hot and humid with lowlands surrounded by lone hills of jungle. He was one of the few to live, and couldn't find more than a few corpses having washed ashore. He had kept a hand on his sword, but it was badly soaked and he set it in the sun for a long while to make sure it had as little rust as possible.

He made his way into the countryside and to Torval, where he was cared for by a Khajiit named J'zin-Dar and his three children. During his state of heat exhaustion and starvation, he heard many strange rumors around town that confirmed the rumors he had heard at sea. Many Khajiit were disappearing into the wilderness for no true reason. He found himself in the position to find out why. Once he was healthy, he felt compelled to offer his help. On his honor, and with a few other Khajiit to aid him, they went out in search of recent disappearances.

One week out in their venture, they found Khajiit and Man tracks near one of the jungle hills further east, inland. They found an entrance under the waterfall of vines, making their way in, until they found themselves in a surprisingly dank cavern.

Allen and the Khajiit with him explored the lower depths of the hillside cavern, finding small sleeping areas and bags of supposedly stolen goods, but no people. That is, until they made it three corridors deep, and found the cavern they were in sloping upwards. It led to an upper landing that overlooked the inner canyon of a large cavern. At the center of it was nearly a dozen bound Khajiit, and swordsmen discussing heatedly on how to deal with the intruders that had tripped their traps.

Many of them ran outwards to find those who dare intruded on what was transpiring here. J'zin-Dar and the other Khajiit went back to ambush them, for there was no other way out than where the captors were headed. Allen promised them he would free the Khajiit captives, and he shimmied down the upper cavern to the lower canyon, his sword drawn as he cautiously approached.

He was met with a familiar voice, surprised to see him in this far away land. Allen couldn't believe his ears, or eyes, when he turned to see his older brother, Beric. He greeted him as his old self, embracing Allen and asking him why he was here. Allen explained he was here for the Khajiit, and Beric promptly told him he was here for the same. It took Allen a few moments to realize just what Beric meant, and the implications of it...

Allen was almost too slow to block the casual blow Beric sent at one of the bound Khajiit. The steel clashed together, and the two Brothers drifted apart with their swords raised. Beric asked Allen why he was stopping him. He claimed that this was the reason he truly left, and that their father wouldn't have understood. To pursue conjuration and it's power, and to gain life through necromancy. Who would miss these wayward Khajiit? Especially in Beric's attempts at power that far outstripped the cost. He thought Allen would understand.

Allen couldn't speak. His throat was too tight. Instead, he shook his head. It was the answer that began Beric's attack, and the two fought before the bound Khajiit, swords lit up with magicka as they clashed with whirring blades. Beric sliced through Allen's defenses after a long duel, but the movie had him lower his guard. Allen stabbed backwards, gutting Beric who was about to finish him.

He had killed his brother. Something that would haunt him for the rest of his life. The freeing of the Khajiit and the slaying of the Necromancer guards did nothing to make him feel better, and he barely stayed for a thanks and a night's sleep before he was back on the road. This time heading Northward.

He traveled through the lands of Cyrodiil, heading along the northward roads until he came upon the Black Road leading to Chorrol. He barely made it past a few bandits, and arrived in Chorrol to find Knights holding trials for those who wished to join their chapter, named the 'Knights of the Silver Fist." Allen still felt the wound in his soul from killing his brother, and being a disappointment to his father. Perhaps joining the ranks of these Knights would help ease his guilt, for he had run from the Knightly tradition of his homeland. It was a Grand Melee, and Allen was one of three who were allowed to join their ranks by its end.

His tenure as a Knight was far more boring than he had expected. He patrolled more than he fought, though the Black Road was filled with bandits if one only knew when to look. He fought alongside his fellow Knight in a few engagements, battling with them for over half a year and gaining their trust. It was one sunny day when Allen had been sent by his chapter to errand a message back to Chorrol from the Orange Road. It would be a days ride from their current encampment, and he nearly made it before he came upon footpads robbing a Dunmer merchant. There were four in all, but Allen came upon them from their flanks in a surprise attack, opening with a ball of fire and searing the leader from the onset. With that, he charged forward on his warhorse to cut one down before he could properly defend himself.

The Dunmer merchant attempted to flee, but was stabbed by one of the highwaymen as Allen fought the second, finishing them both individually after having received a rough gash across his head and shoulder, as well as a stroke upon his blade that had broken it through its center. He wiped the blood from his vision, but realized he could not heal the wound in the dying Dunmer merchant. Galen told the Dunmer he was a Knight of the Silver Fist, and that he would be there for the Dunmer in his last moments. It was the least he could do. The Dunmer thanked him, but asked two boons of Allen. To take a letter to the Dunmer's sister in Dawnstar (named Ferain, a smith), and to take his fine steel longsword as a gift for Allen's aid.

It was a week later Allen left the Knights, traveling northward with his new blade and a final mission. He had just given the Dunmer's sister her letter, and has been in Dawnstar for only a day, having heard of a band led by one named Ashav...

Capabilities

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Skills

• One Handed Blade (Expert)
• Alteration (Adept)
• Enchanting (Adept)
• Sneak (Adept)
• Acrobatics (Apprentice)
• Light Armor (Novice)
• Atheltics (Novice)
• Pick Pocketing (Novice)

Weaknesses

Risk Taker: While he isn't an idiot, and indeed knows the value of a sneak attack, he tends to fight more enemies than he can handle, overestimating his abilities. He sometimes performs maneuvers that could endanger himself, such as leaping upon an enemy from up high or fighting on uneven footing.

Criminal/Incriminating Record: He is a known thief in Hammerfell, and a known escapee (and granted, thief) from High Rock. While it is unlikely he will be pursued to Skyrim, he knows he's made many enemies and pursuers over the years. Someday it might come back to bite him in the ass.

Conjuration Hatred/Fear: Due to his time in Hammerfell, as well as the incident with his late brother Beric, he has an uncomfortable relationship with Conjuration, which borderlines on a phobia when it comes to Necromancy. It brings him vivid dreams of mutilated innocents and his brother's tarnished image laughing at him.

Hero Complex: He's far less of a hero than most Knights or Goodly Crusaders, but he has a nasty habit (at least in his opinion) of getting involved in things he shouldn't to help others. He has a soft spot for helping women in need, though it's not done him a disservice...so far.

Spells

• Feather
• Shield
• Water Walking
• Water Breathing
• Open
• Healing (Novice)
• Fireball (Novice)
• Fire (Sword Enchantment)
• Storm (Sword Enchantment)
• Banish (Sword enchantment)

Tactics

Allen has always been varied on how he chooses to fight his foes, due to his wide ranging skill-set of spells and melee attacks. When fighting a single opponent, he tends to fight one on one via his sword, though he isn't above using enchantments on his blade. If he is fighting multiple opponents, he opens with an offensive spell/rush attack, or he dispatches one or two foes with a sneak attack to demoralize his opponents before fighting them more traditionally with his blade.

Relations & Affiliations

• Thieves Guild
• Knights of the Silver Fist
• Ferain (Dunmer Smith)
• Savranah Mirel (High-Born Crown woman)
• J'zin-Dar and his Village (Khajiit)

Opinions

(For group members; fill after IC introduction)

Other

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Inventory

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Cash

23 Gold

Keys & Lockpicks

...

Tools & Crafting Materials

...

Clothing & Armor

• Chain-mail
• Hammerfell garb

Weapon & Ammo

• Fine Steel Longsword
• Iron Dagger

Potion & Arcane Supplies

• Spellbook
• Moderate Health Potion
• 4 Soul Gems

Jewelry & Valuables

• Savranah's Necklace
• 3 Amethysts
• 2 Diamonds

Books & Documents

Spell book (listed above)

Food/Drinks/Ingredients

• Flask of Wine
• Bottle of Water
• Venison

Load Bearing Equipment

Rucksack

Other

...

@POOHEAD189

Sheet critique

“Some consider him quite handsome, though others find him unnerving by his mixed heritage.”



Something worth noting is that Allen would be considered a Redguard racially because phylogeny dictates that the offspring takes after the mother primarily in the Elder Scrolls universe and only inherits some traits from the father. This is important because it helps establish the primary racial traits an offspring of two different races will have. Take for instance The Grey Prince in Oblivion, who looked almost entirely like an orc even though he had an Imperial father. I don’t think this really changes anything in regards to Allen for his upbringing, but visually he’d be much more Redguard than Breton, and the traits associated with the former would be much more prevalent, such as poison resistance and elevated stamina verses magicka resistance and intuition, for instance.

Also, for clarification, was Allen the firstborn son or was he the result of an affair Lord Blackmoore had away from his wife? That might have an effect on his relationship with his family and how things were between his mother and father. A case of Jon verses Ramsay Snow, if you will. Also, what town or city was Blackmoore lord of? I don’t think it was specified. This is also doubly important because we need to make sure it isn’t conflicting with NPCs we have established for High Rock and the nobility that’s in place.

His father’s blame for not keeping his brother seems to be out of left field; it sounded like that the lord loved Allen even if he didn’t fit into a trueborn son’s station in life and afforded him what opportunities he could. I also don’t think it was mentioned that Allen was even admitted into the house guards at this point, so in what capacity was Allen expected to prevent against an assassination attempt? I could see this a bit more if the father had always been short with him and quick to cast blame, but this seems kind of like he’s blaming Allen for something he had absolutely no control over without even putting him in a station that would give him the skills to protect against potential assassins. I’d recommend either clarifying what Allen’s position was with the guard, give some clues that his older brother had enemies and that there was some indication there would be a threat against his life, and maybe give some validation to their father’s sudden change of heart.

Allen was also a member of the Mage’s guild, why didn’t he turn to another chapter of the guild for assistance when he fled home? One would think there was a sense of familiarity and trust via association there. The Duskmoon gang seems to pop out of nowhere; how does he know who individual members are, especially enough to recognize them? You should probably have some form of foreshadowing or acknowledgement of them and why they are important to have made an impact on him before he killed them, because he obviously feels like they know who he was. And if he was so worried about retribution, why would he not leave Skaven for another city? I understand he’s poor and being proto-Aladdin here, but if he’s a thief he shouldn’t have that much of a hard time stealing enough fare for a carriage within a short period of time. I understand he moseyed off to Hegathe eventually, but there certainly didn’t seem to be a sense of urgency, unless this all happened within a very short period of time.

J'zin-Dar seems like a bit of a strange name; while most of the Khajiit in ESO have suffixes in their names, they don’t have prefixes. It’s virtually unheard of for a Khajiit to have both a prefix and a suffix. J’ also tends to be given to young men and bachelors, so it is unlikely a married Khajiit with 3 kids would retain that prefix. Unless he was a thief or had a reputation for being particularly sly or clever, he probably wouldn’t have the Dar in his name, either. S’Zin would probably be the closest bet to his name.

I also get that Beric would be corrupted by power and the drive for becoming a powerful necromancer, but would he really immediately turn on Allen for standing in his way? It’s his brother, and one you made clear had a very good relationship with Allen. This confrontation seems kind of forced for the sake of drama; what are the odds that after approximately 5-6 years of traversing the continent he washes up close to where his brother is and stumbles across his brother, who is now super evil without any real indication he ever harboured a fascination with conjuration to begin with? I really think Allen has enough hardships and trauma going on in his life without having to be forced to kill his long-lost brother, who once again was extremely close with him to just turn on him for trying to thwart the ritual.

I’m also unsure of why you had this Knights of the Silver Fist (after being on a ship called the Silversaber, no less…) come up as something that he was drawn to and subsequently discarded because of this merchant he failed to save who wanted him to deliver a letter. I get that he felt honour bound to do so, but would this Dunmer really appeal to his sense of duty more than the organization he swore himself to? And why wouldn’t he bring it up to the grand master of that order to seek permission to deliver the message? It just seems really peculiar to have him join this order only to quit it on a whim as means of setting him up to join the company.

So, I’d axe the whole brother confrontation bit and joining this knightly order, still have him try and save the merchant and keeping the letter delivery bit. If you want to do something with Beric, add some more bits about him and give him more of a purpose than just being the ultimate betrayal in Allen’s life, hell have him still be out there with some evidence of his evil doings popping up from time to time that you can potentially explore for future character development. Maybe the necromancer ritual had a book that Beric penned and that’s how Allen finds out he’s still alive and what he’s up to. Perhaps that’s why he keeps traveling, to try and find traces of where Beric is to try and save him from himself.

For your skills, you have some magic being up pretty high when it sounds like that Allen is mostly a nimble stealth character who is more proficient in martial combat rather than spell casting, and I don’t think you even mentioned any enchantment or alteration in his history, just that he studied some magic when he was signed on with the Mages Guild (that once again, never made an appearance again, nor the Thieves Guild). Given that he had to steal to survive, I’d think that pickpocketing and sneak would be much higher skills for him, and you’ve mentioned he’s done a lot of climbing, so acrobatics would be high, too.

He also doesn’t really seem to have any particular weaknesses other than being somewhat impulsive and feeling the need to be a savior of the helpless, which is extremely situational and is worded in a way to make it seem like he still thinks things through and can resist those temptations. Again, the thing about hating Conjuration is also extremely situational; it’s unlikely that he’s going to lash out at one of the other party members for using it and it wouldn’t change how he handles enemies using it. He hasn’t had anything come up, like injuries, phobias (like drowning?), insomnia brought on by constantly being on the run?

For spells, he has a restoration and destruction spell even though he has no proficiencies in either of them. This has to change. And again, a lot of those spells seem to be there against his character background; he’s had a single mention of having magical training when he was in the guild, and he fled home not long after being admitted to the Mages Guild, so how did he possibly become extremely talented in these schools of magic? It kind of comes across that you gave him those skills simply for having access to higher level spells and enchantments, which almost feels like metagaming.

So yeah, the concept’s there, but this needs a lot of revision.

[Peik]

And on a more cheerful note: dual wielding is now making it's debut as a combat skill.

Edit: also added Kothringi as an extinct language, and imga whispering as wildlife communication.

@Gcold

imga is not for wildlife, they are very noble and of courtly mannerisms

[ButtsnBalls]

<Snipped quote by Gcold>

imga is not for wildlife, they are very noble and of courtly mannerisms

@Peik

Arambey.

[POOHEAD189]

@Dervish

Critique response! WOO!

First off, Thenx Dervs <3
I'll edit accordingly and add some more clarification on what is needed. However, I think you kind of overlooked that he is a spellsword first and foremost, and the reason his magic is above his thieving is because he uses it to enhance his sword skills, which he uses quite a bit. I didn't think it was prudent to say "and when he fought in his ship battles, oh man did he use magic." Since he grew up with it, it wasn't worth much mentioning again. So unless you feel strongly against it, I'll keep my magic stuff where it is (though I took away the destruction and restoration).
Also, I'll need some clarification on a few things for me to edit. Some of your critique is on your taste in substance. I'll switch my story around as much as I can since you da GM (like I'll take away the Knights and probably do the necromancy book where its his name penned in it. Good idea btw), but when it comes to something like, say, why did he think his father didn't love him when his father probably did. Isn't that how many bastards feel? Or couldn't there have been times where his father might have been cold to him but listing "that one tuesday" in my history seems kinda odd. Or for him not leaving Skaven so soon, wouldn't he be thinking that he'd likely be pursued outside the city so he decided to wait it out a bit? (I think I answered my last question for me so I'll edit that in lol).