Who Are You?

CannibalTreeHippies

Just a quick rundown...

Gentle Storm Glenlock. Bosmer. Born in Grahtwood and raised in poverty in a swamp, the illegitimate child of a passing warrior and her hardworking mother, Berlyth Glenlock. Her mother named her for herself, a gentle, homey soul who never had a cross word for anyone, and for her father, a windstorm blowing through the land, never stopping or hesitating in one place for too long. Her father doesn't even know he has a child. Her mother took on multiple jobs to keep them barely afloat, one being a job at the local mine. She was crushed in a mining accident when Gentle was nearly a woman.

Gentle left her childhood home without packing a thing, because they had nothing of value, and went in search of comfort and wealth, determined to not die working a tedious, soul breaking job like her mother had. She began stealing from people she thought were too rich to notice a few things missing, but as time went on, her lust for security and comfort grew insatiable, and she began stealing from anyone who had something to spare. She grew antisocial and withdrawn, rarely making or keeping friends, and short trysts being the only romance she allowed herself. When she contracted vampirism, she took it as a blessing, just adding to her stealth abilities, and making it that much easier to pull off heists. She was caught picking a safebox lock in an inn at Dune, Reapers March, and was sentenced to service in the alliance war, which she had before avoided. Forced into close contact with many people for long periods of time, and needing to rely on others is beginning to have an impact on her. Will she befriend a stranger? Or find love on the battlefield?

Deathstroke2424

A Khajiit named S' ra-do, born on a small farm in Elsweyr, to a couple of poor farmers. His farm was attacked by a band of Orc bandits. They killed his entire family, and took his left eye out. He traveled to the city of Dune to beg, and steal to earn a living. When he came of age, he joined the Dominion army, and became a Thalmor agent. He rose through the ranks, and became the head of the Dune branch of the Thalmor. This is the story of my Khajiit, S' ra-do.

Totalitarian

My High Elf: Sola Auroron

Well, Sola was born to a rich Altmer society and family, raised with one sister, she's a young, rather hotheaded, manipulative mage. She enjoys adventures and all manner of things. She's incredibly young and has a great talent for magic. There is, however, one thing she hates about herself, rather humorously. She's full blood High Elf, and her ancestors can be traced all the way back to the Aldmer, but she looks like a man-elf mutt. It's a point of both humor and self-dislike. So, while she tries to act stereotypically elven, she seems a bit more man than mer at some points.
Nevertheless, she's a good little High Elf who obeys her familiy, and prays to the gods, with one little exception: she also likes Daedra. She's not a hardcore daedric cultist, but she prays to Meridia and Azura alongside the other divines. Of course, the whole things is blown out of proporation, and when her family found out, ther was nothing left to do. They gave her an ultimatum to either turn herself in, or they would turn her in. Sola, being the smart, cocky young woman she was (mind you in my eyes she's like 20 I know elves age differently, so she's the men equivalent of 19-20, so about 25, I'd say). Sola goes to the little shrine in her room, with 2 wooden statues of Azura and Meridia. After all, she's a great woodworker, and it's her enjoyment, alongside sewing and dying her own clothes. She prays, and she just has a feeling that those two Daedra are telling her to join the Aldmeri Dominion Military. In the night, she packs up her things in her trusty backpack, throws her sewing kit, the statues of Azura and Meridia, and takes off.
I'm not much of a fan of the whole soul-shriven thing, but if anything, she probably went to a Daedric temple in the Sommerset Isles, ended up being put through some kind of ritual and being trapped in Coldharbour. After her escape, it's back to adventuring. Armed with her wits, woodworking tools, sewing kit, and her natural charm, cuteness, and almost harmful cockiness, she plans on being a good mage that rains down destruction in the battlefields of Cyrodiil, that is, until she decides that maybe being a medic is better, after all, she felt like that's where Azura told her to go. Her sharp tongue, and even sharper wits get her in and out of bad situations all the time. She has, however, broken several restoration staves when she tries to block attacks, or when enemies get to close and she goes HAM on them with it, but that's a whole other problem entirely.

gamsir

Gamsir; born in a village just north of Chorrol, to imperial parents (father is 1/4 bosmer), he's orphaned in a horsecarriage accident at age 7.

As a ward of the city, he's brutalized by a corrupt liutenant of the guard, and forced into crime to pay for the food and shelter he recieves from the city.
With a knack for stealth and agility, together with a surprising strength for his size, he quickly becomes a force in the Chorrol underworld. By drawing on the hatred for the guards, he excels in eliminating underworld competitors and others who threaten his masters.

At some point it becomes too much, and he kills the corrupt guard, now the captain of the guard in a too-public fistfight because of his next designated target; a young woman, mage guild initiate, bent on exposing the daedric and necromantic experiments being performed on prisoners and displaced people who disapear from the streets on random, in the dungeons of the city.

Gamsir runs and joins the legions, working as a scout for general Septima Tharn. When reporting back in Septimas command tent, after scouting the borders of eastern border of Hammerfell, he's reckognised by a necromancer from Chorrol.
Barely escaping the legion fortifications before the alarm is raised, he hides in a small cavern he fell upon while on patrol, weighing his options, he realises that he feels no loyalties anymore, and ponders whether he should go north into the lands he's been scouting for the last year, or maybe seek out his bosmer relatives, whom he knows come from a small settlement called Brackenleaf. Perhaps it would just be better to disappear into unknown lands in the northeast?
Suddenly a whisper is heard, a small chanting followed by pain..
Gamsir awakens in Coldharbour...

Rioghnan

Sola sounds like she'd be friends with Rioghnan, lol.

Draxys

I am AoE barbecue

Rioghnan

Okay brace yourselves. Try not to be blinded by the awesomeness (or the resolution, I play on PS4 and literally snapped these with my phone -- hahahaha):



and on an even worse TV:



He does not look amused about having his picture taken...

BenjamintheMad

Lorcan the Blooded, born to an enslaved Breton family in service to a Dunmer plantation just before the formation of the Ebonheart Pact. Separated from his birth parents and raised as a house servant of the wealthy family, Lorcan never knew his own mother and father. Instead, the young boy was reared as a companion for the youngest daughter of the Ildros family, an outgoing and charming girl named Vyrani. When young Lorcan was old enough to return to work the fields, Vyrani begged her parents to allow him to continue serving as her companion. They agreed, on the stipulation that he learned how to defend their daughter from any and all threats to her safety. After years of grueling training which manifested as an extreme proficiency with magic, Lorcan proved himself to be a sorcerous prodigy.

Fully grown but not yet finished with his training, Vyrani's parents secretly staged a slave uprising to root out their greatest threats within their workers. Lorcan's own mother and father participated in the rebellion, and the Ildros family had taken their precautions and hid themselves within their manor while trusting that Lorcan, so infatuated with Vyrani, would not hesitate to crush the dissenting slaves. They were correct. His birth parents died in the failed uprising, and Lorcan was elevated to the status of a trusted bodyguard to the lovely Vyrani, remaining ignorant of his true origins. When the Ebonheart Pact was forged, Lorcan wound up becoming a full citizen under the new laws, and now seeks to solidify his alliance's strength to ensure that no outside force can ever threaten the life of the only person he has ever held dear. Gods hope that he does not uncover the lie he has lived for nearly thirty years, or there will be deaths beyond the counting.

Nichordius

,

ChillTick

ChillTick

Bash-ley

I play as a heavily armoured Imperial named Clavis Area (Latin for golden key, I thought it would a, suit the imperial theme and b, suit the fact in any elder scrolls game you seem to be the key to all events across tamriel).

Clavis never got too high in the imperial army ranks, but was well known for his keenness to be first in battle and take heavy punishment; always putting his trust in the hammer and armor handed down by his father. After Clevis escaped from Coldharbour, unarmed and unarmoured, Clavis discovered he had the sudden ability to summon deadric creatures, and now bound deadric armour.

Despite his new affinity to magic, Clavis continues to resort to trusting in his physical abilities. still always being the first to jump in to danger, Clavis has come to appreciate his curse.... Who goes by the name Rolt. Rolt is the Clanfear that jumps to the aid of Clavis and often gets him out of sticky situations.

Unfortunately for Clavis, Rolt has an 'interesting' personality and when not in battle enjoys negging and belittling Clavis... (or is this all in Clavis' head???).

I have future plans for Clavis, who is now at level 31, to embrace the blood hunger of Vampirism... Which only.sends him further down the path of madness....

Will Clavis ever find redemption and reignite himself with his father's armour, or will he rival the mad god himself in insanity?

Frozstee

Zharum was an abandoned at a young age, yet there appears to be traces of Dagi-raht in his lineage. The more nimble and secluded Khajiit of the Tenmar Forests who have a natural infinity to the complexities of magicka. Such is seen in his more "jaguar" like appearance with a more dexterous build than most common male Khajiit. His fur is a blend of ash grey tones that diffuse into darker black, a pattern somewhat akin to a domesticated Siamese cat. Piercing crimson eyes glimmer with a deviously inquisitive motive and are always in search of any movement. Zharum's eyes are also a telling sign of his abilities with shadow magic, flickering with a subtle glow upon use.

It is still remains much of a mystery and a burden of heart to Zharum to how and more importantly why he was left. Such drastic circumstances have lead to the Khajiit that he is today. Erratic at most times, having a need like most wild cats to be perched high up or randomly jumping over and around to traverse, rather than walk normally. Zharum's speech is much like many of his kin, but perhaps in shorter clips and "worked" on sayings, a true comedic horror when asking for directions. Though his thick accent and odd phrases make it difficult to understand his intellect or purpose in his words. His rather eccentric actions perhaps paint the opposite picture of Zharum, to an always joyful Khajiit, which masks a lone hunter in search of answers under the surface.
_________________________________________________________________________________________

As recent times progress Zharum finds himself in a tug of war between the role of a lone hunter and becoming more civilized in search of his self worth and family history. In such, he has been finding himself in cahoots with a fellow Khajiit Razum-Dar after joining the Dominion's Eyes of the Queen. The thought of working in a civilized society in which one must "trust" another puts Zharum on edge but it has opened the door for him to find the knowledge he seeks.

(Perhaps will add the rest of the background story at some other time, did not want the post to be super duper lengthy.)

Willy8257

Laryn Cellicia, a Dunmer Vampire Sorceress.

Laryn grew up in a simple but strict household in the the town of Davon's Watch. She was always very polite and almost never got into trouble, however she only ever acted out of fear of what would come to her if she slipped up. Deep down she wanted to be a rebel, in fact she spent most of her adolescence secretly dabbling in dark magic. Her closest friends were (and are to this day) her deadric creatures which she can summon. At the age of 23 Laryn's father arranged a marriage for her to a Dunmer nobleman for the sake of merging their houses for political gain. Laryn was very much opposed to this but she could not muster the courage to confront her parents and speak her mind, so the very night she found out about the marriage she hung herself in her bedroom. Despite the attempt to take her own life death would not take her.

Laryn then found herself in dark damp prison cell. Coldharbour's Wailing Prison was the location. Laryn managed to escape with the help of Lyris Titanborn, and upon escaping she learned about the Deadric Prince Molag Bal, his treacherous plans to enslave all of Tamriel, and most importantly her role in all of this. Having never left far from home, Laryn was very overwhelmed by all these recent events. She didnt want to be the "hero" of this story, in fact she regretted her attempted suicide and returned back to Davon's Watch to apologize to her parents and agree to marry the young nobleman. Laryn soon discovered that she can never return to her old life, she was too late, a Daggerfall attack on the city destroyed her home killing her family. Realizing that there is no use in resisting her fate she embraced her role as the vestige.

(A few months later) Laryn was no longer a fearful girl, she was beginning to discover who she truly was. She now makes choices with good intentions, but is also a firm believer in the notion that people always get the fate that they deserve, no matter the choices they make. This is why when she learned about the tragedy of Lamae Bal she immediately felt a connection that she could relate to. Laryn sought a member of Lamae's bloodline and embraced her curse. That's right; Laryn doesnt see Vampirism as a powerful gift, she sees it as a curse that she has always been burdened with, but is only now manifesting itself.

To this day Laryn continues her quest to stop Molag Bal, treating each journey and each individual she comes across as just another gear turning in the ultimate system of fate. This is why she has no remorse when others feel betrayed by her.

Edit: I know that technically the vestige is supposed to be sacrificed by mannimarco, but In her eyes this is how it happened (perhaps her body was taken by the worm cult and then a ritual was preformed on it)

PurpleStarsaver

I adore reading the backgrounds of all these characters! I hope more decide to share as well.

lyndsie.brown

Rinayla Willowstep is a Bosmer elf in the 35th year of her life. She grew up in the bustling dwelling of Woodhearth and was raised by parents who were strongly cautious of the trade system found within the city. It was a miracle they had settled there at all for Rinayla's family line traces deep into the heart of those who follow the Green Circle laws. Her father, Firian Willowstep, felt that through being close to the trading system he may be able to deter any further changes that may threaten the customs of his people; he was a fiery man and fierce warrior who was not afraid to speak his opinions, he was a dedicated follower of the Green Circle; therefore he expected all members of his family to do the same. However, despite the teachings her father pressed upon her Rinayla never truly settled into the roots of the Green Circle. Never would she harm the forest, but to eat the flesh of another was too much for her gentle heart to bear. This caused great disappointment to arise in her father's eyes each time he beheld her. But in the eyes of her mother, Rinayla could do no wrong. Despite her strange ways of avoiding meat, Aestairia Willowstep held her daughter in the highest regards. The young elf was bright and intelligent, strong in the art of language and graceful in her movements. Rinayla was always eager to learn and her mother willingly provided knowledge of many subjects. Growing under the loving care of her mother Rinayla lived a happy life nestled in the familiar circle of the Tree-sap people. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

In the 12th year of Rinayla's life her mother was lost. A tragic accident took Aestairia's spirit and left Rinayla in a whirl-wind of confusion and pain. Hatred bloomed within her heart for those who followed the teachings of the Dark gods; it was because of them that the cursed animal had found her mother in the woods and left nothing behind. Her father became even more distant, for without the love of his wife no gentleness was left with him and he hardly spoke to his daughter. Rinayla had never loved weapons, had always preferred dance to war, but in these darkest moments she found herself in the woods practicing daily in order to further strengthen herself. She longed for purpose, yet none could be found. Alone and filled with pain, Rinayla settled into a rhythm of numb days. The only relief she had was when escape was granted from the silent home where she and her father lived in uncomfortable existence. Each day at noon she would dash from the house and allow her lithe body to carry her quickly to the docks. Here she would sit, allowing the sound of the sea to wash over her; calming her tight nerves. It was on one of these visits that her life changed.

Sitting on the dock one day, her feet dangling just above the clear water, Rinayla heard the sound of an approaching ship. This was nothing new of course, however she looked up all the same; the familiar cloud of sadness resting over her blue eyes. Something was different about this ship; not the ship itself, but the feeling it brought with it. Not understanding, Rinayla slowly got to her feet and walked around the dock in order to follow the ship's advance with her gaze. it was then that she noticed a figure hanging light and relaxed from the front of the ship, pointing excitedly and calling to someone back on the dock. Picking up her pace Rinayla reached the landing area of the ship just as it came to a stop. Shielding her eyes, the young Bosmer looked up into the striking gaze of a handsome Khajiit.

His name was Ra'ma Bigaard and he was the most energetic being Rinayla had encountered in all her life. He told stories of his life and how he and his brother, Vis're were visiting Woodhearth to experience the trade. Full of questions and stories Rinayla had hardly any time to get in a word before Ra'ma would start off on another tale. She found herself smiling for the first time, not understanding why this complete stranger was taking the time to talk to her. The Khajiit stayed only a mere two days, but when he departed on the ship to the Summerset Isles, Rinayla was by his side. It was Ra'ma who taught her the ways of other cultures, and through his experiences he prepared her for the task she had ahead of her. Vis're was a mentor to Rinayla, teaching her the ways of the blade. After watching her father murder with their people's weapon of choice, maple bows, she could not bring herself to follow in his footsteps. And so, as the two brother's learned more about their companion's life, and the loss of her mother, they promised to aid her in avenging Aestairia's death. This touched Rinayla's heart, and she was once again able to smile and laugh, showing off her graceful skills to Ra'ma by playfully thieving his possessions. They all grew close and Rinayla grew older under the companionship of her new-found siblings.

This happy time was too taken from her, not in the manner of death, but in the manner of simple loss. A year ago Rinayla and Ra'ma were traveling through Elsweyr with the intent of visiting Vis're in his home of Rimmen; but they never got that far. In the dark of the night a whirl-wind of activity overtook them and Rinayla lost consciousness. The next thing she knew she awoke with the need of escaping a jail cell. Without a clue as to what happened to Ra'ma Rinayla now travels the lands of Tamriel in search of him, ever growing stronger in her skills and with the ever burning desire to avenge her mother's death fueling her strength.

Xerosus

Aethros Blackfyre, the latest in a obscure Imperial bloodline of Generals for the Imperium. He is young but rapidly grew to become a respected officer amongst the Imperial Palace Guards. With the arrival of Molag Bal he and many Palace Guards abandoned their duties and sought the aid of the waring factions. Many whisper about the Tharn's legitimacy to the throne and some say that the Blackfyre bloodline might have a better claim. With relatives dead or missing, Aethros has gone east... to Morrowind.

"Might write more later, that was just off the top of my head"

Rioghnan

@Xerosus Love the reference to the beginning of Morrowind there

pepperybrine

Skjorff Chilheart was born in Windhelm and was abandoned by his parents, learning the ways of being a rough tank by surviving attacking dogs, he joined with 14 years the Ebonheart Pact. So he came with a ship to morrowind, this is where a story of a hero begins

Ghanima_Atreides

I have many characters, so I'll just start with two of my oldest and most established ones. I apologize in advance for the walls of text, although these are the simplified versions of their bios. LOL




Katarina “Kate” Murrianus

Race: Imperial
Age: 24
Personality: Stubborn, opinionated, sharp of wit and highly ambitious, can be somewhat reckless in the pursuit of knowledge which is her main goal in life. She holds grudges and will seek revenge, recent trauma and loss having turned her into something of a distrustful loner.
Likes: Reading, complex arcana, staying up all night perfecting her latest summoning ritual, fire magic, Colovian brandy.
Dislikes: The Worm Cult, closed-minded superstitious fools, cold weather.

Bio: Born in the Imperial City to a wine merchant and Legion general, Kate had a comfortable and largely uneventful childhood. From an early age, her capacious mind was drawn to study and she would often be found with her nose buried in a book or practicing simple spells which grew more and more complex in time. When she expressed a desire to join the Arcane University her mother, General Lavinia, was less than enthused, having hoped to see both her children enlist in the Legion (Kate’s older brother Darius was already in training). It took much pleading and convincing on Katarina’s part until Lavinia consented to allow her to join the University, but then disaster struck. Kate had been an apprentice only two years when rumors of impending war began to filter into the Imperial City, although none were aware of the real doom that was approaching. One day, the entire island was rocked by a cataclysmic series of explosions and earthquakes which left much death and destruction in its wake – this event would become known as the Soulburst. Some of Kate’s fellow University mages died, others went mad; her own mind buckled beneath the strain of the immense wave of arcane energy released, straining to crack like an eggshell.

Katarina was huddled together with a few other survivors, recovering, when several figures robed in black burst in and seized her; to her horror, Lavinia was among them. The Imperial general turned Worm cultist was blind and deaf to her daughter’s desperate fury as she was hauled off to Mannimarco’s sacrificial chamber and the last thing Kate saw before the dagger was plunged into her chest was her mother’s cold, pale face peering through the gloom. Unbeknownst to her, Lavinia had been given a terrible choice by the King of Worms: she could prove her loyalty to Molag Bal by sacrificing one of her children in his name, or they would both die. Lavinia chose to save Kate’s brother Darius.

A prisoner in Coldharbour, Katarina met a fellow Imperial by the name of Brius Galenus, and the two of them made their escape together. Far from home and destitute on the shores of Stros M’Kai, they remained together and an unusual friendship grew between the studious pyromancer and the pious Paladin. They couldn’t be more unlike yet at the same time complemented each other as part of their partnership: Kate would often be the voice of reason when critical thinking was required while Brius would appeal to her conscience when vengeful thoughts and the lure of power threatened to engulf her.

---

Dorian Valtieri

Race: Breton
Age: mid 40s
Personality: Intense, well-read, sophisticated, can go from courteous to intimidating in the blink of an eye. Dorian has a mind for politics and enjoys outmaneuvering those around him although he prefers being the power behind the throne rather than the one who sits on it.
Likes: The finer things in life, an engaging book, spirited debates, the art of perfecting a kill.
Dislikes: Personal questions, failure.

Bio: Dorian was born in a troupe of traveling entertainers who made their living by touring High Rock and performing feats of acrobatics, music and drama. By the time Dorian was a teenager, their fame had grown enough that it became fashionable for the rich and powerful to hire them to entertain them and their guests. One Stormhaven nobleman, a man of fairly advanced age was a particularly dedicated fan, although it turned out to be for different reasons. He had taken a strong liking to the fifteen-year-old Dorian and offered his manager a small fortune in return for the boy's permanent addition to his household staff. The deal struck, Dorian found himself sold into the nobleman's service, as his "page" although Dorian knew perfectly well what he really wanted from him. At first, he felt angry and betrayed but soon discovered some unexpected advantages to his new situation. For one thing, his new master was genuinely taken with him and permitted him much as long as he gave him what he wanted. His court mage was an exceptionally learned man, once a Moth Priest although one who retained his eyesight, poor as it was. He taught Dorian to read and write, tutored him in history and geography and even some magic but most of all he awakened in him a hunger for learning the boy hadn't known was there.

Seven years later Dorian's master passed away, leaving him in sudden danger from his wife who loathed him. The young man made good his escape before she had a chance to get her claws on him, leaving High Rock behind altogether and venturing into Cyrodiil. He had an ambition, planted in his mind by his Moth Priest tutor and nurtured ever since: to devote himself to the study of the Elder Scrolls. They fascinated him; he dreamed of unraveling their secrets, of peering into the past and future (into all pasts and futures) through their fabric, although the brash young man that he was, he underestimated the kind of dedication that would require. Dorian was accepted as an acolyte into the order though as the months turned into years and he was no closer to the secrets he craved, he became increasingly restless. One night he snuck into the Archives where the Moth Priests kept their precious scrolls to attempt an unsanctioned reading, but was discovered and stopped. As punishment he was expelled, the mysteries of the Elder Scrolls forever denied to him. A black rage swept over Dorian then, who then returned to the monastery and killed the High Priest who had banished him while he was visiting the privy.

Dorian covered his tracks as best as he could, not that it fooled the Dark Brotherhood. They found him, captured him, and carried him off to one of their hideouts. Dorian was greeted by a man who claimed was not there to bring him to justice as he had initially assumed, but to offer him a place in his "family", where his "aptitude for elimination" would flourish. Directionless and embittered, Dorian accepted, thus beginning his career as a professional assassin. His Dark Brothers trained him in the arts of combat and stealth, an area his years as an acrobat served him well. He devoted himself to his new vocation, discovering that he liked it more than he could've expected. He enjoyed moving unseen among his targets, holding the power of life and death in his hands - it made him feel powerful, almost god-like. The gold he earned fueled an increasingly lavish lifestyle, for Dorian had a taste for the finer things in life and saw no reason not to indulge it. Few would have suspected the genial, cultured Breton killed people for a living.

Until he was betrayed. Stalking his latest mark, a merchant who should have been an easy kill, Dorian was ambushed by a group of robed figures who incapacitated him with magic, bound him, and dragged him off to an undisclosed location where he spent the last moments of his life sprawled on top of a sacrificial altar while voices chanted Molag Bal’s name all around him.



(Needless to say, he is my future Dark Brotherhood character :P )

olddirtybernie

Excellent thread and reading here, btw. This will be my first post here, so hopefully it goes over well.

Here's the backstory to my first character. Wasn't planning on writing this much, but here goes -

Melar Sedrethi


Melar Sedrethi was born to a Dunmer couple who lived outside the walls of their city, operating a small market selling whatever goods they came across in order to make a living. Occasionally, Melar's father would also journey with passers-by who were in need of assistance in order to make a bit of extra coin for the family. Melar's father, and by association his family, were banished to live outside the city walls after denouncing the Dunmer practice of slavery. His father believed that no man or woman should be forced to do things for others, especially demeaning tasks, without fair pay. Melar's Mother and Father were not rich, but they always made sure that their son was not hungry.

On a lonely night, with the father accompanying someone on a journey and the son asleep, Melar's Mother became intimate with a soldier that visited the store. Upon realizing the shame that he could bring on his whole crew, the soldier hurriedly cut Melar's Mother's throat and rushed away from the scene, leaving Melar to find his mother upon waking and alone for weeks until his father returned. When he returned home, Melar's father rushed to his side as Melar explained only what he had heard that night. Father and son were now bound together.
Years passed while Melar and his father ran their store, his father continuing to journey and returning to teach Melar things that he'd learned on his treks. Melar picked up quickly skills in hand-to-hand combat as well as the bit of magic his father was able to teach him. While away, Melar's father had been gathering bits of information about the soldier who had killed his wife, some hearsay and other seemed to be the soldier bragging a bit too loudly.

The day finally came, as his father knew it would, when Melar demanded to join his father in his quest of searching Tamriel for the soldier who had killed his mother. Reluctant, but content that he'd trained Melar enough to survive, his father agreed. They gathered supplies from their store and burned what remained as a tribute to the fallen woman.
Melar's father sat with him on the night after his first battle around a fire and taught him a family tradition, drawing his knife and making a short line explaining that the line represented the battle line. At either end of the line, he poked into the Melar's flesh, explaining that the two dots represented the opposing sides.
“Whether or not we see eye to eye with an opponent,” his father explained, “You must respect them. For one reason or another, they are as willing as you are to put their life on the line for a cause. And for that, we pay tribute.”

Unfortunately, with a single passion blinding both Melar and his father, both were oblivious to larger happenings in Tamriel. At long last they'd found the soldier that had killed both Mother and Wife. He was sloppy at an Inn one night and, as they thought, alone. They followed that night as he left the Inn, but Melar's father could not contain his rage and attacked. Though he punctured the soldier's back with his blade, the blow was not lethal and also attracted a large number of the soldier's bretheren. Melar tried to help his father but was disarmed and held by four of the men. They held him, unable to move, and made him watch as the soldier dispatched of his father in the same way he had his mother.

“Take that one to Mannimarco, he'll be perfect.”

The soldiers brought Melar before Mannimarco, who deemed him as a worthy sacrifice.

After a ressurection of sorts at Coldharbour, Melar roams Tamriel in much the same way his father had before him: A sort of mercenary. If the pay is right, the task can be accomplished. Melar is quite the loner, distrustful of making any close relationships. He also bides his time, hoping to gain revenge on those that wronged his family and put him in his present state.

Todomirk

I'll be following Ghanima's template, as it seems to have everything necessary.

Sees-Through-Trees

Race: Argonian
Age: Late 30's
Personality: Sees-Through-Trees is a leniant and casual lizard, skilled at advertisement and mercantile. He is proud of his heritage and his homeland, yet does not discriminate. He speaks and deals with all people, and is slow to anger. He is relatively skilled at trading, and is willing to travel far and wide in search of opportunity for his business.
Likes: Money, items of cultural significance, historical books and an occasional hunt.
Dislikes: Most Dunmer types, thieves, trolls and drunks.

Bio: Sees-Through-Trees was raised on a small farm in central Black Marsh, just outside Helstrom, with one close egg-sibling (though he considers most Black-Marsh born Argonians to be his egg-siblings) and his parents. His family raised Guar, and while his elder egg-brother, Hunts-the-Wild, was tasked with gathering food for the family, Sees-Through-Trees was tasked with venturing into Helstrom and selling cattle and crops in exchange for gold and tools.

These dealings are what defined and trained Sees, setting him on his path to become a merchant. Though his growth was stunted as a merchant, as his cousin, Whistles-in-Grass, was captured by Telvanni slavers from Stormhold. His elder brother convinced Sees to follow him and join a band of Argonian raiders in hunting down slavers. Partly vengeance, partly seeking their cousin.

For a year and a half did Sees-Through-Trees hunt slavers with his kin. They never found Whistles-in-Grass. Seeing as how his goal was futile, Sees-Through-Trees left the raiders and his brother to join the Helstrom Merchant's Guild. From there he worked with his egg-kin in Helstrom with mercantile advancements, eventually rising through the ranks to earn Caravaneer status, traveling around Tamriel selling Saxhleel cultural wares with the Guild.

As of the recent present, he was granted charge of his own caravan. To this date he is still traveling and selling his Guild's wares and services.

zedich

Warm blood spurts onto my face, the stream of red coming from the split throat of a Dunmer assassin. I had no weapons to kill him with, as the coward attacked me in my sleep. So I stand here, my claws digging into his neck as I watch the life leave his horrified eyes.
Screams, shouts and the sound of steel. I know now we are under attack.
I still have no weapons, I am a simple man...I have my axe that I use for wood, so I take it and rush out of my hut to see my village on fire.
More Dunmer, all clad in black cloths. They sprint around my village, killing everyone and burning our huts as they go. I roar a challenge and rush forward.
I am no warrior, but I fight. The warriors of my village were targeted first, those who were sleeping had their throats slit, and others on watch were killed by arrows. I am no warrior, my swings with my axe are slow and clumsy, but my life tending the farm has made me strong. The Mer tries to deflect my swing with his daggers, but instead he stumbles back from the blow. I rush forward straight into him, the Mer gasps as he did not expect it. I crush his skull with the butt of the axe handle.
I am no warrior, the sound of crunching bone disturbs me and the amount of blood does not help.
An elf comes from behind and stabs me with his twisted dagger, the pain is greater than anything I could of imagined, but somehow I find my axe blade buried in his side and my foot stomping on his head.
I can feel my own blood leaving me, leaking out from the hole in my back and flowing along my tail.
I am no warrior, but I will not wait to be bled out.
An arrow skips off one of my horns, and I reflexively duck and run for something to hide behind.
The screams have stopped now, I hear only the sound of my labored breathing and the bloody mud beneath my feet.
The next arrow impales through my right leg, in through the back and sticking out of the front of my shin. I cannot hold in the yell of anguish as I fall to the ground into the body of an egg brother. His eyes were still open, in them I could see the huts burning and the Dunmer approaching from all around, come to kill this last resister.
We did not want this...We thought the unity of the Pact would keep the Dunmer in line, we thought that the Nords would help dissuade the Mer from retaliating against our small village for not wanting to join the Pact, not wanting to call the slavers 'friend'.
I turn to look at my killers, I try and hiss at them in defiance but my vision is dimming, my own blood covers the ground and I find myself full of hate.
As the elves close in, time seems to slow and I hear a voice in my head. The voice ask if I willingly accept my fate, if I accept death. It asks if everything that has happened here is right, and death is my just reward.
The Dunmer all raise their daggers together to strike me, the killing blow that will be my final moment in this world.
I close my eyes and answer the voice.
"No."

The morning comes as it always does, except this time there are no morning rituals or offerings to the Hist. The Hist smolders and the village is filled with charred and chopped Dunmer...I buried my egg brothers and sisters properly, spitting on every smoldering dunmer I passed as I leave my village. I stop at the broken gate and look back at my village, I remember fondly at what it once was and hope that my friends and family are in a better place. I look at the axe in my hand. It is no longer the simple lumber cutting tool it once was. It has now changed into a weapon from which I gain power.
I hear the voice again from the Axe, it asks me if I will remember them. I respond.
"Yes."

My name is Yogg'sarron. The Dunmer sent assassins to burn my village and kill my people for not joining their precious pact. Every Dunmer I slay is in memory of that night, You will never find any peace in Cyrodiil. You will find only death.

-PC-DC-NA server

Alucardo

I am Noluric Felntia, and this is my story. When I was younger my parents realised how much I loved to train with two handed weaponry, so, when I came of age they took me to Skyrim to train with one of the veterans of the Companions in Whiterun. Mother set up a clothing store in the market, and my father did what he could to finance my training; blacksmithing, gathering materials for alchemists, even worked as a messenger. He cared a lot about us, about me. I trained hard at the Companions to make him proud. Eventually I had worked my way up to the top, and received quite a name for myself.
I finished my training late one night and returned to our house only to find my parents lying lifeless on the floor; their skin ripped and torn like paper, and standing over them, a large wolf-like creature on his hind legs, much like a human.. I had heard stories of Werewolves, but this was no ordinary one. Its fur was as black as night, eyes as red as the blood it craves- it was a Berserker, one of the two most powerful in existence. Suffice it to say I was frightened, but it did not stop me from unsheathing my sword. Before I could blink, the dark shadow with glowing red eyes shot across the room, nailing me to the floor with all its strength. I could feel my chest caving as it dug its claws into me. Stendarr must have been with me that night, because after a howl it had jumped through the window and scaled the great walls of Whiterun out of sight. Why it did not kill me I still do not know.
Following the death of my parents, I decided to start a new life in the Bangkorai wilds, where a curse that consumes and twists me I received on that fateful night may not hurt anyone.
I am Noluric Felntia, and the Bloodmoon calls me.

DrewZeeDC

Danthros Regillus

Age: 26

Race: Imperial

Bio: Danthros was born and raised in the Imperial City, as the eldest son of a respected merchant family. Even from a young age, it was obvious that Danthros had an affinity for magic. His natural charm and skill in diplomacy impressed his superiors, and it seemed that he would reach new heights in the Empire.. He became an apprentice to a powerful mage, named Avondul.

His family, even though they were respected, had lost much of their previous influence and wealth throughout that past two hundred years due to confrontations with other noble families. They used to be one of the most prominent and incredibly wealthy families in Cyrodiil. His father and mother saw Danthros, showing such promise, and placed all of their hopes and expectations on him. Surely, he would rise to the top, and bring fame and glory to the Regillus family name. The pressure to be the family's perfect vessel eventually became too much. Danthros often turned to drink, and became reckless in his magical studies.

One fateful day, Avondul came to his apprentice seeking aid. The made went on about a secret conspiracy he had uncovered. He ranted that the people of Cryodill were secretly enslaved to the Daedric Prince, Molag Bal. He claimed that the Council were all completely under the control of Mannimarco, working for the Lord of Domination. Danthros was skeptical to such a wild claim, but was reluctant to refuse his master. Afraid being removed as an apprentice by his deranged master, thus shaming his entire family, Danthros agreed to help Avondul.

Unfortunately, before they could form any plan to move against the Daedra, they were discovered. Late at night, as Danthros and Avondul met in his chamber, they were ambushed by several member of the Worm Cult. Together, master and apprentice managed to take down many of them, but were outnumbered, and eventually overwhelmed. Danthros watched in horror as the remaining cultists executed Avondul. Defeated and terrified, Danthros surrendered to the cultists. The cultists captured him, and gave him to Molag Bal, who then took Danthros's soul, and imprisoned him in Coldharbour. There, he was to suffer for all eternity.

He would later be rescued by Lyris Titanborn, and would escape from Coldharbour with the Prophet. Danthros awakened in Glenumbra, a city held by the Daggerfall Covenant. His first instinct was to return to the Imperial City, to save his family from the Daedric Prince and his monstrous servants. Though, he knew returning would only get him and his family killed.

Instead, he accepted the hospitality of the Covenant, and saw what they stood for. He saw the honorable Redguards, and the surprisingly respectable Orcs. He learned of their fight against Molag Bal, the evlen lords of the Aldmeri Dominion, and of the fragile and violent Ebonheart Pact. He studied about the other factions, and knew If the Aldmeri Dominion was victorious, the arrogant elves would never allow men to rule over themselves again. The Pact was comprised of nothing but savages, brutes, and slavers. Nothing good would come of their victory.

He decided then and there, to join the Covenant, and fight to set Cyrodiil free from the clutches of evil, and set about the foundations of profitable trade between the two. He would make sure that his family would be one of the first to enjoy this trade, and grow into the power it once was. The people of Cyrodiil would be saved by the hands of men, not by beast or mer.

Ghanima_Atreides

Some good stuff here, I've enjoyed reading about everyone's characters!

@olddirtybernie - Melar is a cool down-to-earth character and his relationship with his father is interesting!

@Todomirk - Sees is one resourceful lizard, I wonder if he'll find his cousin and what will go down then. And I'm flattered you chose my template!

@zedich - Wow, very dramatic storytelling, and I'm very intrigued who the "voice" belonged to! An enterprising Daedric prince, perhaps?

@CheeseDivinity - a reluctant werewolf, eh? The struggle to hold on to one's humanity in the face of the beast is fun to explore, I wonder what choice Noluric will make in the end.

@DrewZeeDC - Interesting backstory, he sounds like a true Imperial in his views and not unlike a character of my own. I do believe the Covenant is the natural alliance for someone looking to restore the Empire of Man since it's based on similar principles.


I have two more to show off as well:



Araneon

Race: Altmer
Age: 30 (barely an adult by Altmer reckoning)
Personality: Soft-spoken and downright bashful at times, lacking in confidence regarding his magical prowess, curious by nature and quite friendly towards those he feels comfortable around. Despite his meek demeanor, Araneon is no coward and can surprise others with acts of unexpected initiative and bravery.
Likes: Learning about other cultures, seeing new and interesting places, fine silk clothes.
Dislikes: His family’s expectations, the theoretical side of spellcasting.

Bio: The youngest son of Canonreeve Sinyon of Dawnbreak, Araneon had his destiny chosen for him from birth: as a noble-born Altmer, he received the best education gold could buy and like his older brothers before him was expected to one day serve the Aldmeri Dominion in a military or political capacity. Much to his family’s concern however, the youth showed little aptitude for either, his timid nature making him a poor fit for either soldiering or politics. Next, he was entrusted into the hands of a respected Guild mage tasked with unlocking his magical potential. Once again, however, Araneon performed below expectations, showing difficulty in grasping the complex arcane theory his tutor insisted any mage worth his salt should master. This further sapped Araneon’s confidence, who struggled beneath the burden of expectations placed on his shoulders and the growing feeling of failure. He had become a source of embarrassment for his family and was gradually excluded from public life, left to his own devices as long as he did not draw attention to himself. Because of this Araneon started mingling with the household staff, thus learning a tolerance towards other races and social classes many Altmer lacked.

Frustrated with his son’s lack of progress Sinyon’s thoughts turned to marriage, deciding that a good match was the only way Araneon could contribute to the family’s prestige. After much maneuvering on his part a potential bride was found in a scion of House Rillis, a young elf of sinister repute known for her eccentricity but whose name and wealth convinced Sinyon to agree to the union. Araneon was returning home from a stressful visit to his betrothed’s estate, who already made him nervous with her apparent fascination with death, when a group of robed strangers descended upon the convoy. The attackers slaughtered Araneon’s guards and raised them as their undead minions right before his terrified eyes, but they had a different plan for the young Altmer. Not to ransom him as he initially assumed, but to deliver him into the hands of Mannimarco for ritual sacrifice.

Following his escape from the dread realm of Coldharbour, Araneon joined forces with an ambitious but highly prickly Bosmer mage named Lalwen and the two of them were recruited by Razum-dar into the service of Queen Ayrenn. For the first time in his life, Araneon felt like he was accomplishing something: he discovered he learned better through practice than tedious study and his skill as a wizard gradually improved as did his reputation as a key member of the Queen’s Eyes.

Perhaps he would prove his father wrong after all.

---

Daenerys Dragon-Soul

Race: Nord
Age: 18
Personality: Aloof, regal, proud to a fault, capable of great generosity towards those who earned her respect and admiration as well as terrifying acts of vengeance against those who have wronged her. Is susceptible to hubris.
Likes: The rush of battle, hunting expeditions, contemplating her destiny.
Dislikes: Cowardice, having her decisions questioned.

Bio: Daenerys was born in Skyrim into an ancient Nord clan that traced its roots back to the times when Dragons ruled supreme but her parents left the province when she was an infant and established themselves in Bruma. The chilly Cyrodiilic border city became the only home the girl has ever known, her mother and father never mentioning other family or their reasons for leaving their ancestral home.

Dany’s childhood was an unusual one. According to her parents, on the day of her birth they were visited by a vision of Akatosh who revealed to them that a grand destiny awaited their daughter which would be revealed on her 18th birthday. To prepare for it, she would have to learn the skills of a warrior so that she might one day wield them in his name so from the tender age of six Dany began training daily with sword and shield as well as in hand-to-hand combat. When she wasn’t practicing in the yard she studied history, geography, arithmetics and statecraft, which left her virtually no time for herself. Not that her parents would have allowed Daenerys out of their sight: determined to fulfill the godly command given to them they controlled every aspect of their daughter’s life, filling her head with promises of an illustrious future as the Chosen of Akatosh at the expense of other interests or relationships. This left Daenerys feeling lonely and isolated but hardened her resolve to succeed, her destiny as the Chosen of Akatosh becoming her primary driving force even while servants whispered that it was foolish to mold a child into an instrument of divine will based on a vision that few believed was even real.

Not long before Dany’s 18th birthday disaster struck Cyrodiil when Mannimarco revealed his true allegiance and plunged the world into chaos by engineering the first stage of the Plane Meld. Shockwaves following the Soulburst reached as far as Bruma although for a while confusion reigned supreme, the residents being uncertain what had taken place. Few paid attention to the black-robed figures lurking among them but Dany’s parents, who had many eyes and ears around the city, did. Fear and a nameless menace were rising, and the robed strangers were connected to it somehow. Hasty preparations were made to smuggle Daenerys out of Cyrodiil and into Skyrim where she would be safer, but either by the twisted finger of fate or betrayal she was found and captured before she could cross the border. It was the very robed figures her parents feared, joined this time by undead and Daedra boiling out of a hellish portal obscuring the sky above Bruma. Dany fought with all her might, cutting down more than half of them, but in the end they proved too many. She was overwhelmed and taken to their Lord Mannimarco to be delivered to Molag Bal as a ritual sacrifice.

What became of her parents, Dany doesn’t know. Although she managed to escape Coldharbour and find her way to the shores of a small island off the coast of Solstheim she is far from Cyrodiil and the destruction left in the wake of the Daedric invasion. She dreams of returning and freeing Bruma from the Worm Cult’s yoke but Destiny calls elsewhere and if Daenerys has been taught anything her whole life, is that Destiny cannot be denied.

SeliniaHlaalu

Selinia Hlaalu - Biography.

Selinia Hlaalu, born in 2E 561, is the daughter of a wealthy merchant member of House Hlaalu, renown for their trading exploits and negotiation skills.

The scale of House Hlaalu represents balance, trade and compromise, influencing everything the house seeks to accomplish.
For Selinia however things did not turn out so traditionally, she never showed the instinctive interest in trade or bartering, and was always excited at the prospect of travelling on the road, and not the destinations her father was attending, she spent a lot of her youth among Hlaalu guards, eventually the guards starting treating her as one of her own, allowing her to practice some swordplay and archery from a young age.

One particular guard grew closer to Selinia, Medura Sadris spent many years by the side of Selinia, not only protecting her but becoming her friend and ravelling companion when her father was too busy playing the business man.

As with tradition with House Hlaalu, the family members are expected to take up the coin pouch and join in with the family businesses and ventures, something which Selinia did not want at all, following on a few years and Selinia’s adventurous side was getting the better of her, many times her fathers guards were sent looking around the dense forests of Deshaan looking for her, wondering where she had got lost this time.

In 2E 578, Selinia had disappeared once more into the western parts of Deshaan, the guards were sent from Narsis to go find her once more, however a new fledging mercenary group had established a small camp which took Selinia’s interest. The Maulborn they called themselves, had found Selinia and held her captive in their camp.

Things did not go as planned, as the guards were charging into the Maulborn camp, a mysterious fissure in the sky opened up, pouring Daedra out into the realm of Nirn, dark blue in colour, they massacred the Maulborn and guards a like. An evil looking Altmer stood among the Daedra as they lined up the remaining survivors, Medura was pierced through the heart. And Selinia was taken prisonor, taken into the realm of Coldharbour, never to be heard from again.

Atrix_Tussand

Atrix Tussand

Race: Nord
Age: 26

Epilog: The night was dark darker than anyone in whole Skyrim could remember. Heavy blood-freezing rain was falling and Myneria Tussand in heavy labors, stuck inside his husband family house under heavy layers of snow caused by the blizzard from last night. In that dire moments, laying there in bed of straws in great pain and fear she though that this could be her last night in this world. Then all of the sudden her husband Joel entered the front door by smashing them as they were stuck and froze from last blizzard. Joel charged in and picked up his wife loaded her on a cart and set horses through the ragging storm in direction of Winterhold. The trip was short but hard. After arriving in Windhelm a local healer took them in. After the scariest night in the life's of Myneria and Joel a baby boy was brought to this cold world. Having his father eyes, father call him...Atrix.

Bio: Sixteen years from that night Atrix turned to be very smart and strong little boy. Spending his mornings with his father in small forge just outside Winterhold. His father Joel was working as small time blacksmith. <It gives me piece forging tools and weapons, rather than using them.> Atrix didn't know why his father is more away from home than he is home. When he asked him why he is he leaving again his father answered. <Such is a life of mercenary, you will understand one day my boy. Now, help my with this blade will you.>

As much Atrix father was...distant person that much his mother was warm and kind person. Myneria was a member of Mages Guild and many years ago she was assigned to help their collages from Collage of Winterhold to work as substitute for professor Valys who was spending his time rather in the ancient ruins than in classroom.

So, thanks to his mother profession Atrix came in touch with magic. That knowledge inspired the boy. The shock magic, the flames the destruction potency. It was all interesting but even than how dangerous it can be if one not knows how to use it properly. So he focused in the arts of Restoration helping her mother with healing sloppy and careless student who from time to time managed to fry, freeze, or electrocute themselves...or Others in their surrounding.

Time passed and after two years of not hearing a word from his father a grave news came when a man wrapped in steel and fur entered in their home. The man name was Jofnir the Ice Bringer. He came to the Atrix with tears in his eyes. That moment Atrix didn't need to hear anything he knew. His father was gone...forever. Jofnir spoke of Joel as a true friend and a brother. <He saved me, from the grasp of the Undead. The best man ever knew.>

Consumed by anger Atrix wanted to leave his home and join the Companions just in the name of revenge. But, his mother stopped him in that decision. After, when rage silenced, Atrix told his mother that they should leave...back to Daggerfall to her home. <Father is gone, there is nothing left here, mother.> Heavy heart Myneria knew that her son is right. Staying here would fill them only with pain.

Two years after moving to Daggerfall, life finally seemed to be better. The weather was always pleasant the people were interesting and kind. All in all life was good. Atrix worked in local forge and trained with low level members of the Fighters Guild. They were impressed with his skill in wielding two handed sword and hammer. Atrix was not even aware that a new tragedy is just around the corner.

After his day of work he entered Mages Guild great hall to visit his mother and check upon book or two about healing and enchanting. Not even suspecting anything a mage named Sandor Cottret, approached him with sad look on his face. When Atrix saw his face his whole world stopped for what seemed eternity. It all happened all over again first father now mother there is no one left he is all alone. Atrix, stood there petrified in his own world of reflection. Not even hearing Sandors words he simply in his absent state of mind walked out thru the door not saying a single word.

For the six years after that event Atrix wondered the Tamriel doing small jobs here small jobs there trading what he could. Healed whomever was in need. Joined and left dozens of mercenary group until one night when he setup his camp close to Wyrd Tree in Glenumbra. He entered his tent and sinked into deep dark. When he woke up he woke in cold and dark cell of Coldharbour prison.

More determined than ever this is where his story...just began.

capnbinky

Vadramea Varo is a powerful fire mage with a unique condition; she was exposed in infancy to an Elder Scroll.

Her parents were Ashlanders who migrated to Skyrim after the Red Year, taking their baby with them. During the journey, they encountered a monk on the road and traveled with him for a time. In return for their hospitality to a blind man on the road, he watched their daughter while they hunted for food. The baby was restless, and managed to wriggle into his backpack at one point, where her chubby fingers encountered something interesting...

From this point onward, Vadramea has struggled with the strange malady of time-sickness. She has accomplished great things in Skyrim, Cyrodiil and Morrowind, but every time she slips in time she loses her memory.

She always retains certain instinctive abilities and responses, though:

She has prodigious magickal abilities with fire.
She loathes the undead, especially vampires.
Something within her responds strongly to any reference to dragons.

Since her untimely murder and re-awakening in Cold Harbour, she has experienced many recurring dreams and nightmares in which her loved ones are murdered by vampires, or she struggles to destroy a glowing stone in a terrible dark tower. The ones she likes best involved flying on dragonback over ice and snow.

Lightninvash

Im vivecs brother Vivic we're twins