Greenie — Roleplayer Guild

otherwise known as Meg

Race: Nord/Imperial
Sex: Female
Age: 25
Family Origins: Riverwood, Skyrim/ Imperial City, Cyrodiil
Birthsign: The Lady
Appearance:


Meg is average in both height and weight, though she is on the short side for someone with Nord blood in her veins, tending more toward her Imperial father in terms of both height and looks, both no taller than 5'6. She could be called the wiry sort, her body strong from living an active life since childhood, with no extra fat on her limbs. Her skin is tanned from birth and a little rough from both the sun as well as the winter weather she's travelled in. Her slightly wavy and dark brown hair touch her shoulders, usually tied back to keep out of her eyes. 

Her face is rather angular with high cheekbones and a strong straight nose with the slightest hint of a curve at the tip, set over a wide mouth more prone to smiling than frowning. Her left cheek sports three scars from scratches she received when she was a youngster, but it's hard to tell due to the green double line warpaint she likes to wear. Her eyes are a bland sort of green and are usually lined with black, making them appear darker than they actually are.

As for her clothes, Meg tends to favour comfort and agility. She dons a faded dark tunic, brown woolen trousers, leather gauntlets and knee high sturdy brown boots. For colder days she has a thick green cloak which also suffices as a blanket. She isn't much for jewellery, but she does wear a gold ring passed down to her from her mother as well as an amulet of Mara around her neck. The latter for the time being is kept hidden under her clothes as while she’s not actively looking for romance, it has sentimental value for her.

Equipment:
Skyforge Steel Sword- The sword was given to her by her father. It used to be her mother's sword, although she had not bought it either, rather it was handed to her as a reward during her years with the Companions. Whilst the sword is quite old, it had been well taken care of and Meg is quite diligent in making sure it remains that way.
Banded Armour- Just like her sword, this armour is a hand-me-down from her mother as well, procured ie stolen from someone killed during her years of adventuring as a Companion. It's quite old and not in the best condition, but Meg still wears it for sentimental reasons along with the obvious protection.
Hunting bow and quiver with 20 iron arrows


Misc. Possessions:50 septims. 25 septims are kept in her satchel, while the remainder are in a small, tight pouch at her belt.
Satchel containing some apples, carrots, some salmon and rabbit meat, and a couple of ale bottles.
A second smaller satchel containing herbs which she uses to make restoration/healing potions as well as a mortar and pestle.
10 lockpicks


Family and Associations:
Falen Corvus- Father
Ylva-Mother, deceased
Marne- Stepmother
Sylven- Half-brother
J’raij- friend/travelling companion- deceased


Favoured Skills:
Highly Proficient
Sneak- Having spent most of her childhood doing exactly that, Meg is quite skilled at keeping stealthy. Whilst this was mostly used for entering and exiting places silently, she found it quite useful when having to sneak up on bandits and the like.

Moderately Proficient
One Handed Blade- Meg is more of an offensive fighter with her sword rather than defensive, striking whenever she sees an opening, hoping to land critical hits wherever she can. As she doesn’t like to use a shield, she’s had to learn to parry attacks as well as countering them.
Lockpicking- A skill she had picked up in Riften as a child, Meg’s education in this skill was furthered when she left Whiterun and began the ancient art of treasure hunting, with aid from her Khajiit friend. Practice makes it perfect, but she still has ways to go.
Pickpocket- While Meg hasn’t resorted to this in years, she spent a good deal of her childhood pocketing things that didn’t belong to her and as such… old habits die hard.

Somewhat Proficient
Archery- Using a bow is something Meg had to teach herself after leaving home. It was easier to keep the farmers she escorted alive and unwounded if she could shoot and incapacitate enemies before they came so close that she had to resort to a sword. While she is no master of the art, she has an eye for hitting her target.
Speech- Meg isn’t too shabby at haggling over prices she thinks she may buy for a little less coin, and she does occasionally manage to defuse heated situations with her words.


History:Megana, better known as Meg, was born to a Nord named Ylva and an Imperial named Falen. Her mother was originally from Riverwood though she had moved to Whiterun at a young age, joining the Companions in her youth. As for her father, he was a deserter from the Imperial army. Seeking refuge in Skyrim he found a haven in Riften, where it was easy for him to keep his head low as he engaged in selling his sword for coin. Fate had planned that Ylva and Falen would meet; both had been hired on a treasure hunting mission near Morthal. As they felled draugrs and ghosts in this mission as well as future ones, it became apparent that the two had taken more than a liking to one another, and it wasn't long before they married at the Temple of Mara.

Meg's birth followed approximately a year later. Raising a child obviously slowed down their life of adventure, and unlike their carefree days they could no longer simply rent a room at an inn and waste gold with a baby. So, the couple decided it was time to settle down in Riverwood where Ylva's family house was ready for the taking, seeing her old parents had passed on to Sovngarde years before. For his part, Falen was quite happy with this new relaxed life, working as a tanner at the blacksmith's. Ylva on the other hand was restless with a life as a mother. She loved her daughter as most mothers do, but staying still in one place just wasn’t her. When Meg was old enough that her father could easily take care of her, the Nord warrior decided to once more lend her sword to the people of Whiterun Hold, taking up different quests. Alas, her final fight was against a coven of witches, and whilst she did kill most of them, in the end she lost her life.

Falen took his wife's passing hard. For a good few months he did little more than drink and sleep. Thankfully by this time Meg was old enough to fend for herself, but she was still just a child. It took her falling ill and nearly passing away to break Falen out of his stupor. Regretting the way his grief had overtaken him and nearly killed his daughter, he decided he needed to leave Riverwood and head elsewhere. Selling off most of their belongings for gold, some of which they used to buy a horse, the pair left the settlement with their few remaining belongings. Falen had decided they would be moving to Riften. He knew some people there and the city was familiar; it would be easy for him at least to adjust to the change. The journey wasn't too strenuous, but the many times Falen had to unsheathe his sword reminded him he was still quite proficient at wielding a blade. Perhaps it was time for him to return to his roots?

So it was that Falen was once more hired muscle for various shady folks. It was not safe to take Meg with him on his various daily visits, so he would leave here either at the Temple of Mara. While she was an obedient child for the most part, staying all day at a stuffy temple wasn't fun at all. She took to sneaking out of the temple, making her way through the city and taking in the various sites. Sometimes she would steal a fruit or two from the merchant’s stand. Other times she would sneak her way into the orphanage where she would play with the other children until chased out by the old hag who looked over them. In all her adventures, Meg did keep away from the Ratway; while it set her curiosity on edge, she didn’t know how to swim and she hardly wished to drown. 

It was around this time when Meg came across her first Khajiit, having actually snuck out of Riften itself. J’raij was supposedly a young merchant selling his wares just outside the city walls. Meg had heard more than enough negative rumours about the cat-like people; they were sneaky thieves, they ate weird things that made them lose their minds, they were no better than scum. However, she felt no such disdain for the merchant, much to his amusement. Used to being looked down as less than second class, it was an interesting change of pace for the young trader. Much to her glee, J’raij decided to teach Meg the art of lockpicking and pickpocketing. It seemed a little odd and she was averse to it at first, but he convinced her that some people had too much money and it was actually a good thing to relieve them of some of their gold.

Unfortunately for Meg, the Khajiit merchant wasn't there for more than a few weeks, having been seen as a nuisance and subsequently chased away with threats. This brief time was enough for her to learn that her father and the rest of the folk weren't quite right about the cat-like people. Feeling rebellious and saddened that her friend had been forced away, Meg once more began her rounds around the city, finding amusement in interacting with the less savoury folk in Riften. Whilst some found her rather irritable and would readily skewer her if they had the chance, she did come upon others who were rather eager to teach a youngster the art of picking pockets and lockpicking. When they realized she already had an aptitude for the latter, they began to send her on various errands to unlock doors.

The day came when Falen finally caught wind of what his daughter was up to in no less way than having to stop her from breaking into one of his client’s house. It occurred to him that he should have realized what was going on with Meg much sooner than he actually had. Worse than this realization was that he had failed his daughter yet gain. Not wanting a life of thievery for his daughter, Falen made the hard decision to return to Whiterun Hold, though this time his destination was Whiterun, where he would attempt to find a legitimate law abiding job that would allow him to keep a closer eye on his daughter. By this time Meg was already nearing thirteen years of age and had quite a mind of her own. She did not appreciate being taken away from Riften, and though she couldn’t stop her father from taking her, she took every opportunity to remind him that she wasn’t content. 

As they journeyed, Falen decided it was high time to teach Meg how to handle a sword. Not only did he hope for her to be able to defend herself, the best defense being offense, he also hoped it would help keep her mind from the bad habits she had picked up in Riften. Though she was stubbornly against it at first, an encounter with bandits taught Meg that her father was truly looking out for her. From then on, she took his word seriously and learned from him in earnest; it wasn’t long before she upgraded from killing skeevers to full grown bandits. She was lucky to have taken so well to the sword, wielding it with an ease that reminded Falen of Ylva. It was due to this memory that the night before they arrived in Whiterun, he gifted her with her mother’s old Skyforge Steel sword.

Whiterun was quite a different for Meg. It took her quite a while to get used to a place that was mostly all Nord with the occasional Imperial, Breton or Redguard. As far as she could tell, there weren’t even Argonians in Whiterun. While she was overall disappointed in what the city had to offer, she inherently knew it was probably for the best. As she was now old enough to contribute in bringing in gold home, she would head to the farmers around Whiterun and aid in harvesting their crops as well as other menial tasks, including helping with transportation of goods. This was much more pleasant to Meg, further allowing her to develop her skills with her sword. She was also given a chance to meet interesting new faces, including, much to her delight, more Khajiit merchants and travellers passing through the way. There was always a little inkling of hope that she might see her friend J’raij once more, but alas his face was never among those she saw.

Life continued onward as it usually does, becoming something of a mundane ritual. Whilst Meg wasn’t as unsatisfied as her mother had been with the settled sort of life, she did feel as if there was more to life that carting cabbages around the hold. Once she reached her twentieth year, she decided it was high time she left her father to see the rest of Skyrim, and perhaps further in the future, Cyrodiil as well. Falen had finally moved on and was now courting a lady named Marne; Meg reckoned there would be children coming soon enough, giving her the perfect excuse to leave. Her father was saddened that she was leaving, but she was now old enough to make her own decisions. He gifted her with Ylva’s old armour as a goodbye present, telling her that her mother would want her to have it. 

Protected and armed, Meg started off on her own adventures… which weren’t as impressive as she had been hoping for. Most of them were bounties for bandits, which while dangerous was not exactly what she had in mind, along with the fact that anyone else who had the same bounty would contest for the gold. It was becoming somewhat lackluster when one day a chance encounter with what seemed a roadside robbery became something more. Robber killed and left for the beasts, Meg’s attention had swiftly turned to the victim. She was quite shocked when she recognized the face under the hood. It was her acquaintance J’raij, whom she hadn’t met in more than ten years. He didn’t recognize her at first as she looked quite different. Tales of the past however are hard to forget, and it wasn’t long before he remembered who she was.

As it turned out, he was not a merchant per say. J’raij was a hired thief, though he found himself something of a tomb raider these days. In the same manner she had become enchanted by the khajiit as a youngster, so true did it prove even as an adult. The only difference now was that Meg could actually do more than just learn tricks; she was well trained in picking locks, sneaking about, archery and, of course, using her sword. The khajiit seemed to realize that rather than an amusement, the young woman was actually something of an asset to have along.

So began the partnership between Meg and J’raij, which lasted for a good two years. During this time Meg traveled throughout Skyrim, visiting places she had only heard of. To say she was having fun would be an understatement. Despite the dangers that ravaged both over and under land, she found herself more than content with life as a tomb raider. It also seemed Meg was developing some sort of feelings for her Khajiit companion. She had always liked and respected him, but this was something different, something she had only heard tales of in taverns, or when her father would speak fondly of her mother.

Alas, that sort of tale was not for Meg. An unfortunate accident during one of their underground explorations occurred when an unseen trap was triggered, causing a huge rockfall. J’raij found himself stuck and unable to move. As if it couldn’t get worse, the noise attracted a couple of nearby draugrs. While Meg managed to free herself and fell both of them, she was not able to save her friend and companion. Wrought with grief, she managed to free his corpse from the rubble before dragging him out of the crypt, where she buried his body.

Unsure of what to do now, Meg returned to Whiterun to stay with her father and his new family. Falen was quite concerned, recognizing the look on her face as one that had been on his so many years earlier. While his wife wasn’t too pleased to have an extra person in the house, Falen wasn’t about to get rid of his daughter when she was clearly upset about something. Nevertheless, Meg didn’t stay by her father for more than a couple of weeks, opting to sleep at the Bannered Mare instead. She had enough gold to stay there for ages if she wished, and it was better than being fussed over whilst being given the stink-eye by her stepmother.

It wasn’t long before Meg began to feel the urge to leave Whiterun once more. She was no longer the careless adventurer from before, but after five years of a traveler’s life, she couldn’t go back to staying put in one place. While she still grieved for her lost companion, she knew time would be a healer, and perhaps another grand adventure would be a balm as well.

Personality:
To an outsider, Meg would seem like a rather down to earth and easy going sort of person, a good listener with a decent sense of humour, not shying from drinking, cussing or singing tavern songs. And while that isn't far from the truth, there is quite a bit under the surface that she keeps hidden from the rest of the world, or at least those who aren't very close to her.

Though kindhearted and friendly, a part of Meg is paranoid and untrusting towards people. Life has taught her that most people are only nice to you because they want something from you. So while she genuinely does wish well for others, there is always a niggling part of her that is doubting others and their intentions, sometimes causing her to overthink situations and come up with wrong conclusions. 

That being said, when Meg finds herself close to a person, she becames rather biased and stubborn in her opinions about them, whether she is right or wrong. Even if they hurt her, it will only take a few kind words before she finds herself having forgiven them. Having grown up by her lonesome with literally only one person she called friend has made her rather possesive of the people she likes; there's always a fear in her that she may end up losing the people she cares about, and ultimately left alone.

One thing that can be said for Meg is that she had strong work ethics. If she is getting paid for something, she will do the job to the best of her ability, as quickly and as efficiently as she can. As such, she doesn't enjoy people messing around when it's time to get down and do work, even if she tolerates it to a certain degree, keeping quiet rather than making a fuss. In the same manner, she can be a little impatient when folks make much ado about nothing.

Miscellaneous:Race doesn't really play any part in Meg's perception of people; she deals with them as they act and not as they look.
It’s easy to tell when Meg is pleased- if she’s standing there will be a big grin on her face; if she’s sitting her legs will be shaking with excitement.
While she is something of a tomboy, Meg is also secretly a romantic, waiting for the not so perfect someone.
Drinking too much turns Meg into a sobbing mess who spouts all sorts of nonsense and personal secrets. User discretion is advised.
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