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Character Origins (Tell us your story)

  • kaitousenpai
    kaitousenpai
    Soul Shriven
    Hi ya'll. Just wanted to share this story I've been building for the characters I made while playing ESO.

    General: All my characters are named Eisen, but that is not a family name as one would like to think. Eisen is a title granted to special and unique mortals who were bestowed powers by the mysterious Daedric Demiprince of the Arena, Sylanus. Each mortal is unique and has an agenda of their own, and use the powers differently to achieve these agendas (a la Outsider and the denizens of Dunwall). Some have embraced their powers, others chose to avoid it. Nonetheless, it is a covenant bestowed by the Demiprince to influence Tamriel without interfering in its affairs.

    As a side note, those characters I have created but long since deleted are also canon; they were Eisens but due to the breaking of a covenant between Sylanus and the Eisen, their powers were taken and they were rendered non-essential by the Demiprince. They still exist, but have become powerless once more.

    CHARACTER #1 Story:
    [REDACTED] is an Argonian and a Priestess of the Tides, who believe that all life is bound by the ebb and flow of magicka. As such, many priestesses work in temples to perform marriage ceremonies, funerary rites, or coming-of-age rituals. Stationed at the city of Davon's Watch, she is found maintaining the Altar of Marriage to bless the lucky couple. When not busy, she is often lounging around and bathing in the pools of the fountain.

    One particular night, while she was in her lounge-rest, Sylanus gave her a message: that she was the first to be chosen as Eisen. Thus she donned the title of Eisen Licht, and was made as the Avatar of Light: the glimmer of blade before battle, before they are covered in blood. She is the glint in the eyes of combatants, and the shine of the trophies they win after each victory.

    For this reason, she joined the Three-Banners War as a medic in the field, using the power of light to restore the wounded back to health. Unfortunately, she has neglected her duties as a Priestess of the Tides, and by taking a life, or restoring it and reversing death, she is forcing the ebb and flow of magicka unto her enemies. Thus she was exiled from the temple.

    Angry and confused she meditated within the swamps of Deshaan, the murky waters of Shadowfen, to the frozen glaciers of Eastmarch, and the calm lakes of Riften. Wherever there was water, she would meditate and pray to the Tides for grace.
    One day, she met some travelling adventurers, calling for help as they are wounded and in dire need of a healer (LF Healer Vet Pledges). She accompanied these explorers and kept them safe and guided them through the undead infested crypts using the powers of light. She healed them, gave them life, and provided them the lessons of the Tides. It was here that she found renewed vigor; despite what she thought, she was not breaking the balance of the ebb and flow, rather she saw within her a power that emphasized the push and pull to a whole other level. She found the balance between Light and Water.

    And thus, she promised never again to partake in war nor take a life. She would only focus on the restoration of what was lost, the ultimate push between life and death.

    CHARACTER #1 Summary:
    Basically, I made this character for PVP, but after her kit fell apart in PVP, I nearly deleted her. But then, I tried her out in PVE and did awesome as a healer.

    Her two ultimates reflect her balance between the Tides and the Light. Her first ultimate is Rite of Passage: using light to heal allies. Her second ultimate is Barrier: providing shields (made of water) to protect allies from damage.

    She is also a master provisioner and a master enchanter, to reflect on her roles as a priest who provided the much needed ingredients for rituals and ceremonies (you gotta have that food and those enchanted rings for marriage).

    She also frequently uses the Azura's Star memento, to highlight her role as a Light Avatar further.
  • LoneWolf7691
    LoneWolf7691
    Soul Shriven
    Here's a brief history of my main. Still need to post the full fleshed out version.

    Ormvard Red-Wolf otherwise known as 'The Blood Wolf', leader of the notorious 'Sovngarde Steel Arms'. Ormvard was born on the outskirts of Windhelm. He is a direct descendant of Thorgar Red-Shaol. Who was thought to be the first Nord to tame wild wolves for use in combat. Thus Thorgar took on the name Red-Wolf.
    Ormvard grew up with wolves while honing his combat skills, becoming prolific with a battle axe. He knew from a very young age that his combative skills could get him far in Tamriel. He made a name for himself by beheading the noted Nord bandit Hjonir The Deadly. He rode through the streets of Windhelm on his Karthwolf while holding up Hjonir's head as his trophy. His fellow Nords rejoiced and 'The Blood Wolf' was born that day. He was only 17 at the time.
    Over the next year many people who had heard of his victory over Hjonir came to offer him gold and riches in exchange for his services. It was from this he decided to start the 'Sovngarde Steel Arms', an elite mercenary group now known for it's ferocity in battle and exemplary record for getting the job done any way necessary.
    Over the years the 'Sovngarde Steel Arms' have continued to grow not only in stature but also in notoriety, traveling throughout Tamriel accepting any and all well paying jobs. Ormvard is now very well known throughout greater Tamriel. Although a staunch Nord with great love for Skyrim. He has decided to stay impartial in the war for the Ruby Throne and keep himself open for wherever the gold may lead him.
  • freakshowprincess65
    freakshowprincess65
    Soul Shriven
    Ok, so my girl is still a very new character, I've only had her for about a week. I am just coming back to ESO. I could definitely use a crash course in ESO lore and I haven't fleshed out all of the details of my character yet, but here is what I have so far. Hopefully none of the lore aspects are wrong or contradictory. I didn't add too much lore in her story yet for that reason.

    Ali was born in Daggerfall City to a very rich, prominent, uppity Breton family. They were also very political and very devoted to the Daggerfall Covenant. She was their "perfect little angel"- she was beautiful, blonde hair, green eyes, very charming and pleasant. She was also a tomboy, an excellent tree climber and acrobat and she was very stubborn and her parents could barely control her. They made her stay inside most of the time and she had an army of private tutors- music, any academic subject you can think of, magic, foreign languages, etiquette, etc . She did everything she could to rebel. Anyway, when she was 7 years old, she sneaked out of her house and she and some neighborhood kids wreaked havoc around the city at night. They were messing around inside an abandoned building and one of the kids set fire to it. She tried to get them and herself out and in the process badly burned much of the left side of her upper body and face and both of her hands and forearms. She also went blind in her left eye. (wish I had a pic, but my ESO character has the burn scarring and the blind eye) Needless to say her parents were extremely mad and, not only that, they basically did everything short of completely abandon her and throw her out of the street because she was not their perfect, beautiful daughter anymore. They tended to her basic needs, but they showed her no affection and ignored her.

    About a year later, Ali was roaming around outside of Daggerfall, as her parents didn't care what she did anymore as long as she stayed out of their sight and the sight of anyone else important when she happened to come across a traveling circus of Bosmer Wood Elves called, "The Elden Roots". She was fascinated and there were some "freaks" in the show. She decided right then that she had to join them. She wanted to run away from her family and her life so badly and even though the only members were Wood Elves, she wanted in. Much to their chagrin, she followed them around but eventually she was able to win them over with her charm and persuasiveness and they let her join. They decided it couldn't hurt to have a scarred, but still pretty, magical Breton girl in their show and since Ali was very good at acrobatics and she was exceptionally trained in magic, she developed her own acrobat and contortionist routine with a magical act as well. The Bosmers became her family. She was billed as a "Princess" so that's where the character name comes from. I haven't yet decided what her name in the show was, maybe "Fair Fire Princess", hmm.

    Many things happened in the years that she traveled with the circus, some I have come up with, some I haven't thought of yet. One day she was off on her own and was captured my slavers and ended up in Vvardenfell. She is part of the DC, but I can't remember if that's just because I created her as a Breton or if I actually had a choice in which Alliance to put her during character creation, but she will back the Wood Elves with anything because they basically raised her and she is loyal to them. Other than that, she doesn't care about politics. She is a kleptomaniac, but is generally a good person. She will do what she has to do to survive and is quick to jump to an "ends justify the means" conclusion sometimes when certain harsh things have to be done but whenever she has a to chance to help another person she will, no matter who they are, and she will do everything she can to help them.

    I RP her in my head as I'm playing and I don't completely get how RPing with other people in the game would actually work, but I think it's a cool idea in theory. My many years of RP experience come from Myspace (throwback lol), forums, and other websites like tumblr and roleplayer.me. Anyway, if anyone wants to try out RPing in game I'm up for it, or if you just need help with a dungeon or boss or anything else in-game, my username is @freakshow_princess85, PC/NA server :smile:

    Edited by freakshowprincess65 on September 7, 2017 6:09AM
    ~PC/NA~
  • WhoSlappedThePie
    WhoSlappedThePie
    ✭✭✭
    My main characters story:

    My name is Theon Dichonde and I've been clean from drugs for 3 months now. I used to hit the Skooba hard with the boys in the Maw of Lorkhaj. It was Rakkhat who gave me my first hit on the Skooba pipe and now he doesn't want anything to do with me. It's like we were never friends.

    So I'm going to kill him and take his precious Skooba stash from those poxy chests he sturdily guards. He ruined my life.

    I used to be a humble fisherman residing in Wayrest before I met Rakkhat but how am I to return there again when people think I'm washed up? I used to have a family, a wife, children, friends, but now I've been banished to Coldharbour where I spend my days planning the demise of Rakk.

    If only I could go back to a time when life was innocent. If only I could go back to before.
    "It does not matter how slowly you go so long as you do not stop."

    Current Toons (Max CP):
    Magsorc Breton
    Magblade Darkelf
    Stam DK Redguard
    Healer Templar High Elf
    Tank DK Argonian
    Stamblade Redguard

    Completed: vHoF | vMoL | vSO | vSO HM | vAA | vAA HM | vHR | vHR HM | vMA | vDSA
  • TheOOB
    TheOOB
    I finally settled on what character I'm starting, and I made a short backstory to help me think of how she will act.

    Indriell, Aldermi Dominion Bosmer Nightblade

    In the waning days of the second empire, there was little central authority to keep the nobles in line, and abuse of ones subjects was common. Indriell lived in Colovian occupied Valenwood, serving as a serf farmer for a cruel master, treated like a slave in all but name. She never knew her family, and was generally sheltered from anything mer, the Colovian's fearing a revolt. It was a hard life, but Indriell survived, mostly through guile and quick wit, and the teaching and guidance of brokenclaw, a Khajiit forced into servitude as punishment for some crime he had done years before. He taught her the basics of the ways of the Renrijra Krin, teaching her to enjoy life, be courageous but wise, and to fight unjust authority.

    Indriell was freed of her servitude by Aldmeri Dominion forces, the alliance able to save her when her kin alone could not. At first she tried to assimilate back into Bosmer culture, but she found her own people to be strangers to her, their ways alien. She left Valenhood, to travel Tamriel only to find limits to her own abilities, thrust into a similar situation in Morrowind where she barely escaped the bonds of slavery again. She returned back to her native lands, understanding that while she may not fit in among the Wood Elves, she did among the Dominion, she could gain more as part of the alliance than apart from it, and seeing the evils of men first hand she found their goals admirable.

    Thus Indriell became a freelancer in service to the Dominion, seeking to advance the goals of her alliance along with her own station.
  • TheGreatPotato_49
    TheGreatPotato_49
    Soul Shriven
  • Neyane
    Neyane
    ✭✭✭
    My main is called Cindafall and has two siblings. She likes to be called Cinda or Cindy.
    Cindy is a Breton who was born and raised in Daggerfall in Glenumbra. Her parents died when she was a teenager and had to look after her two younger siblings.
    She became a hero in no time, and was known all throughout Tamriel. She was happy and so was her family.
    Cindy's life came crashing down when she got bitten by a vampire and turned into a scary monster that made her a threat to friends and family alike. She killed friends and scared her siblings away.
    Cindy became a different woman after this and lost her care for her family. Instead she joined little mercenary groups, she had fun until she got bored and wanted something more.

    It was then she joined the Dark Brotherhood and became an even more cold blooded killer. She enjoyed murdering innocents a lot. Seeing the life leave their bodies, she was never hungry either... she gladly fed on innocent men and women. It didn't take long for her to get bored again...so she went out adventuring. Cindy bumped into people she didn't expect to see...ever again--it was her younger siblings. She finally felt what she lost all those years ago--sadness, love and hope. She made the decision to get cured and to return to her old self--if that was even possible.

    Cindafall got cured but at a cost, she will never forget the terrible things she did and the people she killed. Her surviving friends don't want anything to do with her and even her siblings do not trust her. She wonders if this was the right decision. Maybe she should have been a cold blooded killer forever. But no, that wasn't Cindy. She was a lovely and friendly girl once she can be one again. Make new friends and move on in life. The past is the past, nothing more or less--what matters is the future, at least from now on.

    B)

    Her story goes on further in detail but I didn't want to write too much here today at least :smile: if you're interested in roleplaying with me in game, I play on PS4 EU server - cikexo.
    The most important thing in life is enjoying yourself.

    Magplar, Stamplar, Magsorc ~ Stormproof ♡

    DC For Life
  • Glockcoma725
    Glockcoma725
    ✭✭✭
    The following is not referring to any specific time place or event. My personal lore knowledge is shaky as best so this has been as generalized as i could make it.

    Soaked to the skin, bones rattling within, hungry, tired and bored. Skyrim is no place for me.

    "Home is a place you'll always long for", my mother used to tell me, and while I may not have liked to admit it at the time, she was right. I miss the sun soaked fields of Cyrodil. The days were long and the work was hard, but it was honest. Time off was sparse and yet well-earned, and my the adventures we had! The late morning breakfasts, fishing all day to see who can net the most Nibenay trout, bets and dares on who would venture deepest into the old ayleid ruins, my cousin even swore up and down he drank and reveled with Sanguine himself!

    The Alliances changed everything. There's always been war in our lands, but this civil conflict has utterly destroyed or driven out most of my kin from our lands. The fighting so fierce, as the war machines creak and groan along their wooden frames across the grassy scapes. The ropes tug and churn as the medievil devices lurch and hurtle massive stones soaring through the air, which crash upon granite walls in an explosion of dirt and rock that would cause even lesser daedra to scatter. We lost our dearest cousin during that first season, not even old enough to wed when the piece of stone debris crushed her. That was when we left.

    We spent months on the road before we began settling on the Morrowind/Skyrim border. As time grew fleeting work became scarce, with more and more of my kin became spread, and thin. Before I had realized it I was alone. Work dried up at the local mill, and winter approached. Hunger can be quite the motivator, and when the red and black banner offered warm food for my gullet and a hearth for my bones, I accepted. My official title was "Courier". It was as simple as Guar tipping when it began. I was simply to deliver this parcel to this outpost, or this letter to that encampment. My assignments were always well within safe borders, but then that letter came. Looking back now it could be considered a grand personal cataclysm.

    I had been escorted by a small Ebonhart Pact sloop, and swiftly we crossed the Pandomaic and landed on a very quaint island of Bleakrock. The Pact had established Bleakrock as it's northernmost stronghold, and from it surveyed the seas, watching for eastern invaders. I was met with Pact soliders informing me the local captain was out on a scouting report, but received my letter. I was told to take the day off and enjoy the village. Previous experience led me to find the Nordic people a brutish bunch, without manners or pleasantries. These humble fishermen however, showed me a true Skyrim welcoming. Upon arrival there was meade, there was dance, and I even helped the locals hunt down a great bat! They named it and everything!

    The morning after however, was much more surreal. I awoke to long faces on the soldiers, and worried panicked voices coming from the murmering crowds of villagers. Upon returning to HQ I was told I wouldn't be setting sail for the mainland, that something had come up. Perplexed, I followed a small crowed of excited yet nervous soldiers as they all made for the watch tower. What I saw then sent my heart plummeting to my feet.

    Through the misty veil of fog clinging to the Sea of Ghosts one could just barely make out the wooden masts and flowing sails. As the great wooden leviathans waded through the seas, the Daggerfall Covenant banner could just barely be made out.

    Time slowed, as my mind raced. I found myself at what would be ground zero for an upcoming battle, and in these moments I found myself thinking of home. A sing-song tune broke my transe, coming from the lips of a nearby enlisted dunmer.
    Soaked to the skin, bones rattling within, hungry, tired and bored. Skyrim is no place for me.


    Thanks for reading if you did. Wanted to make it more descriptive at parts but I did this at work and got interrupted frequently so the flow if it is completely all out of whack. can't wait to go home and play now though!!!
    PC-NA CP505 @Glockcoma
    Maximus Dezimus Meridius Tank DK
    Ri'Skarr DD Stamblade
    Myrddin Emrys DD MagSorc
    Smokes-All-Herbs Healer Templar
  • Eporem
    Eporem
    ✭✭✭
    The characters I play with a little of their backstory in the comment section I have placed here:

    https://www.enjin.com/profile/16385101/pics

    I usually create them to learn more of the lore in game (because I have not played any of the previous ES games) and play them at different times - at the moment it is the Dunmer I find myself playing more.

    They are in-character always in the /say channels so if any come across these ones in travels or wanderings and wish to roleplay a bit please know that I am open to this.
    Edited by Eporem on September 15, 2017 12:28PM
  • ArgonianDovah
    ArgonianDovah
    Soul Shriven
    Azeez-Ei was a sole egg made by enslaved Argonians working on a plantation in Stonefalls. The parents wanted to keep her badly, but soon realized that there was no way they could continue hiding an egg, let alone a hatchling. They knew a Hist tree was nearby in Ebonheart, and that there was a small enclave of freed Argonians there. With the help of a Khajiiti friend who was also enslaved, they smuggled the egg into a shipment of saltrice bound for Ebonheart. After delivering a sack to the town hall mud hut, they let fate take things from there and could only hope that the Hist would guide their hatchling to safety.

    When the pakseech of the enclave realized they had an orphan on their hands, most of the free Argonians came together and raised the egg together. Hatched midyear under the Steed, the Argonian licked the Hist sap on its Naming Day and was given bright eyes and a small frame. The pakseech gave her the Jel name Azeez-Ei, or Bright-Eyes/Shines-Her-Eyes in Common Tamrielic.

    Azeez-Ei was an energetic hatchling who loved to run around the place. The Argonians of Ebonheart shaped this energy into a passion for woodworking and textiles. As she came into adolescence, she found a knack for healing magic and started to learn how to harness it.

    When the Ebonheart Pact decreed the Argonians free from slavery and gave Bal Foyen to them, Azeez-Ei followed several members of the enclave who came to stake their claims with their newly-freed family members.

    She, now twenty, works odd jobs as a crafter, healer, and courier. More recently, the Covenant invasion in Bal Foyen has introduced her to military contacts who are interested in her work. The Pact wants her to heal wounded warriors in Fort Zeren and use her talents to carve shields and staves, not tables and chairs.

    Not having birth parents never really bothered Azeez-Ei, and she had always accepted the people of Ebonheart as her extended family. She doesn't know this yet, but her parents Seif-Tum and Weaves-Reeds-Gently were freed safely. They moved to Stormhold (which just happens to be a new delivery route for Azeez-Ei) and miss her every day.
    Azeez-Ei | @ArgonianDovah | Xbox NA | Templar | Healer/Crafter

    Guildmaster of the Saxhleel Stronghold, the guild for all Argonians and friends of the Argonians.
    Active exploring, item-sharing, trading, and everything else in between. No dues necessary.
    Click here to join our kaj-uxith, clutch-mate!
  • Storymaster
    Storymaster
    ✭✭✭✭✭
    bilka04 wrote: »
    Grozen
    ( pick here-> https://s29.postimg.org/51k5h83jr/Screen_Shot_2017_01_10_at_03_14_50.png )
    Race: Goblin (cross-breed)
    Age: (middle 30s)
    Alignment: Neutral Evil

    A deadly assassin very skilled in mixture poisons

    I love the way you used the character creator to actually make him look like a goblin crossbreed.

    *sigh* Wish goblins were playable.

    Character Profiles:
    Puck Tanglevine - Bosmer Nightblade
    Cyron Kane - Imperial Dragonknight (Retired)
  • andrewbole2011_ESO
    andrewbole2011_ESO
    Soul Shriven
    *Just made a new character, first serious RP*

    Crito the Black Swordsman

    Backstory

    Crito, a seventeen-year-old Imperial male, was born an orphan in the city of Cheydinhal. At the age of 14, Crito left the orphanage and earned enough to stay in the local inn by hunting and fishing. During the events of 2E 582, Crito refused to join the Imperial Legion and decided to flee west to avoid the war. Upon arriving in Ebonheart, Crito booked passage to Vivec City, where he hoped to make a new home.

    Tutorial

    While en route to Vivec City, Crito's ship is assaulted and destroyed by Dunmer slavers. Crito awoke to find himself captured but thanks to the assistance of Naryu Virian, a Morag Tong agent, Crito managed to escape. Crito reluctantly agreed to aid Naryu in her mission to assassinate the slaver captain and destroy the ship. As the ship burned, Crito and Naryu leapt into the water. Crito awoke to find himself warm, dry, and very much alive in the port city of Seyda Neen. Crito was then escorted to an "off-the-books" meeting Governor Salvi. Though Naryu proved Crito's innocence regarding the mayhem of the previous night, Crito found himself greatly disillusioned with the amount of scandalous behavior occurring in the region.

    Story


    Upon release, Crito was not eager to stay in the swampy village of suspicious Dunmer in which he found himself. He immediately set off for Daggerfall Covenant territory, and managed to find passage to Stros M'Kai. Upon the island, Crito freed the "wrongfully imprisoned" Jakarn at the request of an Altmer woman. Having developed a fair amount of skill with swords, Crito agreed to help Jakarn recover "his crystal" from some nearby goblins. Crito then found himself in an awkward position and chose to tell a suspicious orc that he had never met Jakarn. Upon arrival at the inn where the two were to meet, Crito learned that Jakarn was more of a scoundrel he would like to have dealings with: Jakarn had already moved on to his next girlfriend and was planning another theft. Crito decided to leave the island and booked passage to Wayrest before anyone might discover his unfortunate involvement in Jakarn's exploits.
  • JamuThatsWho
    JamuThatsWho
    ✭✭✭✭
    Indaryn Demnevanni was a prominent and studious pupil of magic under the tutelage of House Telvanni. As with any Dunmer worth his ancestor's ashes, he was particularly adept at the control and manipulation of fire, and had an aptitude for alchemical practice.

    One day, whilst out gather potion ingredients for a new experiment, he was attacked by a vampire. Although able to best the beast with a well-placed fireball, he contracted Noxiphilic Sanguivoria. Whilst he was able to hide his condition for some time, he eventually turned and was set upon by the familiar hunger suffered by all the children of the Blood Matron, Lamae Bal. He was caught attempting to slake his thirst upon the succulent neck of a Telvanni noble, and subsequently exiled.

    He wandered the wastes of Vvardenfell, hopelessly hungry for blood. During his exile, he slowly learnt to control his blood-lust, and developed a particular aptitude for stealth, managing to survive on thievery and the odd murder for sustenance.
    He was eventually apprehended by the House Hlaalu guard in Balmora during a botched burglary and brought before Vivec for judgement. In a characteristic show of pragmatism, the Warrior-Poet saw potential and offered the young Dunmer the chance to put his talents for subterfuge to use as a Buoyant Armiger, in lieu of harsher punishment.

    All was well for a time, and Demnevanni served with gratitude. However, the other Armigers soon discovered his vampiric secret and devised a cunning plan to rid themselves of this abomination to the Tribunal. They convinced Demnevanni to accompany them on an expedition to northern Vvardenfell, and there in the ash wastes, accosted him and left him for dead.

    Weak, afraid and close to death, the young Dunmer crawled without purpose or direction, eventually stumbling, drained, into the Caverns of Kogoruhn. There, he was found by the Sixth House and nursed back to health. Like Vivec before them, they too saw potential. Once recovered and fed, Demnevanni was inducted into House Dagoth, and now serves with cold indifference and sharp cynicism, shedding the naivety of his younger self.

    He stills bears the tattoos of the Buoyant Armigers, but covers both them and his vampiric nature in the vestments of the Sixth House until either (or both) serve his needs.

    Throughout his exploits and ordeals, Demnevanni has learnt to curb the characteristic fear of fire afflicting his brothers in blood, with the help of his Dunmeri ancestry and his natural inclination for the raw destructive power of Flame magic. Woe betide any who challenges a vampire that wields fire, for they have suffered much, lost little, and gained more.
    Edited by JamuThatsWho on July 15, 2018 12:12PM
    PC/EU - CP890

    Indaryn Demnevanni - Dunmer Magicka Dragonknight, Vampire, EP
    Azorku gro-Malkus - Orc Stamina Sorcerer, Werewolf, DC
    Scale-Song - Argonian Magicka Warden, Vampire, AD
  • CrazyWolf712
    CrazyWolf712
    ✭✭✭
    I wasn't sure how long my story would be, so I made my own forum post. Here's the link:

    https://forums.elderscrollsonline.com/en/discussion/375043/the-diary-of-slytharyn/p1?new=1

    Hope you enjoy!
  • Chrysa1is
    Chrysa1is
    ✭✭✭✭✭
    The more the merrier guys! Great stories :) Tell us yours!
    Running will only kill you faster when my venom enters your bloodstream.
  • mutefox
    mutefox
    Soul Shriven
    New to the forums here but I love role playing and character building! I’ll just post my character here, let me know what you think!

    Name: Ri'Shavir, or "Shavi" for short

    Race: Khajiit

    Gender: Male

    Homeland: Elsweyr

    Alliance: Aldmeri Dominion, also a member of the Thieves Guild

    Appearance: Ri'Shavir is a lean, rugged suthay-raht with green eyes and ash colored fur with black serval patterns and splotches of white around his muzzle and chest. His long, dark hair is barely kept tidy in a messy sort of top knot with a few short strands falling out over his face. He wears a customized set of dark blue and grey Hew's Bane Thieves Guild leathers.

    Personality: Light hearted, easy going, analytical, prefers to improvise rather than plan ahead, friendly but still a thief at heart, watch your pockets around him, does not like being tricked, prefers to avoid conflict, treats violence as a last resort

    Bio: Ri'Shavir was born to a small but respectable sea-faring merchant family on the southern coast of Elsweyr. He lived a pretty modest life, sailing and trading with different provinces, though even in his younger years, he often got into trouble for taking things that didn’t belong to him.

    One day, when he was about 16 years old, his family's ship was attacked and destroyed by Maormer pirates. The ship sank, and he was cast adrift. Days later, he washed up on the shores of Abah's Landing. Seeing as he was essentially a castaway with no food or money (the Sea Elves took everything before they sunk the ship), he needed some way to survive in this unfamiliar land.

    Most people would probably try to find a job or even beg on the streets for money, but not this Khajiit! He would simply take anything he needed while no one else was looking, and for the most part it worked. He spent the next few months taking whatever he wanted from unsuspecting citizens and shops with very few ever noticing, due in no small part to his natural gifts for stealth and pickpocketing.

    His actions eventually attracted the attention of the local branch of the Thieves Guild, and he's been a member ever since. A few years later he returned to Elsweyr and was drafted into the Aldmeri Dominion military.

    Weapons/Magic: Ri'shavir is most comfortable using a pair of daggers, though he has been known to pick up a long sword or two, and even dabbles a bit in archery, but he is no expert with a bow. He doesn't use magic much, save for a few illusion spells like invisibility to help keep himself hidden when sneaking into restricted areas.
  • Chrysa1is
    Chrysa1is
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    nice story mutefox. :) Hopefully you can post on here again with an update on what Ri'shavir has been up to
    Running will only kill you faster when my venom enters your bloodstream.
  • Chrysa1is
    Chrysa1is
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    nice story mutefox. :) Hopefully you can post on here again with an update on what Ri'shavir has been up to
    Running will only kill you faster when my venom enters your bloodstream.
  • Vermintide
    Vermintide
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    (I created a Dark Elf NB months ago who has, over time, become the lord of all edges. Blacker than the blackest black, times infinity. Continue at your own peril if you never had a goth phase in high school or tend to take things too seriously at all.)

    What remains in the memory of Riz Vulpes' old life is clouded, murky and half-forgotten at best. How that life came to end is, perhaps thankfully, lost to the sands of time. Even the fragments that are left contain nothing but the horrors or war, the smell of blood spilt upon damp earth, the sounds of men and mer screaming as they are put to the blade or cut down by a battlemage's spell. Perhaps the years, decades, if time even had such a meaning in Coldharbour, had been a form of penance? Or was it just another cruel twist in the path of one mortal's fate? The only thing that could be known for sure, is that whatever cause he had believed in before, was meaningless now.

    Screenshot_20171126_004631.png

    Riz had proudly worn the colours of the Pact in life, fighting for his homeland and the freedom of his ancestral traditions. After his escape from Coldharbour, he resumed his fight by sheer instinct, pushing back waves of Covenant and Dominion invaders. But something was different now. Already believing himself dead, such a rigid sense of morality seemed pointless. Witnessing the power of dark magic within Ash Mountain, Riz began to change- Now, he would not simply vanquish his foes, but leech their very life force. No longer held back by a sense of honour or duty, he would stab unsuspecting foes mercilessly in the back, and cremate their blood-soaked corpses before they had even drawn their final breath.

    No longer did the meagre sums of gold paid for a noble warrior's work interest him, even the favour of so-called Tribunal deities satisfying him little. Riz found himself sliding into the dangerous life of an outlaw, as much for the excitement as for the riches, and to satisfy his own bloodlust. It didn't take long for Riz to find himself drawn into the welcoming arms of the Dark Brotherhood, it's sanctuary feeling more like a home to him than anywhere he had been since his return to Nirn. His fate was sealed one fateful night, while tracking a mark though the pitch-black woods of the Rift. Descended on by a pack of bloodfiends, the gift of undeath was bestowed upon him, and it became clear there would no longer be any turning back.

    Screenshot_20171126_000622.png

    The bloodlust he had always known will forever go unsatisfied, no matter how many are slain in an effort to quench it.
    Edited by Vermintide on November 26, 2017 1:46AM
  • Kierro
    Kierro
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    I have two characters I RP, but right now I'll tell about my main RP character. Solo and my headcanon, my character is the ancestor of my Oblivion and Skyrim characters. My ESIII character is father to ESIV but not a relation to my ESO character.


    Name: Spells-in-Shadows
    Race: Argonian
    Gender: Male
    Class/Organisation: Shadowscale Blood Mage

    Spells-in-Shadows, was born into the tribe known as the Kota-Eixleel (Black-Scales; my own created tribe), their exact location is unknown, but it's believed to be somewhere in Shadowfen. The tribe, like the Kota-Vimleel (Black-Tongues), were very big Sithis worshippers. They synchronize their egg laying cycles to match the appearance of the Shadow; the birth sign of shadowscales.

    Like all soon-to-be shadowscales, Spells was given to the Dark Brotherhood apon his hatching, to be trained and formed in an effective killer. He was only nine when he made his first. He killed his target with an unexpected flame spell, that seared the flesh from the target's bones. This impressed his trainer, who figured Spells wasn't suited for bows, daggers, or swords. So instead, he handed the young argonian a mage's staff. With proper training, he thought, Spells could be a powerful mage.

    Each night, Spells and his egg-kin, would stay up late. Talking about the grand aventures of those who became shadowscales. The places they go, the people they fight and kill. It was all such a thrill to the young argonians, especially Spells, he couldn't wait to become a shadowscale. When Spells finally came of age, he returned to the Kota-Eixleel tribe for his Naming Day. The Tree-Minders would speak to the Hist, who would choose for him a name. Once given a name by the Hist, the tribe welcomed Spells with open arms and became a productive member. To celebrate the return of their young shadowscales, the tribe staged a wamasu hunt and feast. Spells, however, had his own little celebration in the tents of a few of his fellow young Shadowscales. When he was not on official Shadowscale business, Spells took apprenticeship with the Tree-Minder shamans, in the hopes to have a better connection with the Hist.

    Unlike most argonians and khajiit, who have a disliking to the other. Spells didn't have any real hatred for any race. Mainly due to his time in the Dark Brotherhood, which doesn't care about race, creed, or other things. Just so long as you get the job done. He does have a liking to the Nords, because they do have a carefree and loving nature about them. However, Spells does hate Dark Elves, namely the Telvanni. He one was once captured by a Telvanni magister, who used Spells in many ways from a simple tea server, to servicing the magister in his bed champers. He eventually escaped but not before killing the Magister who wronged him.

    Now Spells serves as a captain (PvP rank) in the Ebonheart Pact.
    Edited by Kierro on November 30, 2017 6:19PM
  • Mason_King
    Mason_King
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    screen_shot_2018_01_20_at_1_11_35_am_by_mphattyboi-dc0k9ic.png
    Mason Kaegan of Wayrest

    A warm hearted middle class Breton+Redguard. He's Five-Foot, Eleven-Inches tall, Slim-Average build. Born at his parent's Winter home, Grymharth's Woe in Eastmarch, by Trent (Breton) of Wayrest and Warden, and Julia (Redguard) of Stros M'kai and a Templar. Raised in Wayrest, at Gardner House. Had a pretty Charmed Life.
    My mother taught me Magic, and Father taught me how to use a Bow. when I was of age 10, My parents gifted me Cronus, a White River Ice Wolf Pup, and Nyla, Leopard cub. Age 16, they gave me Titan, my beloved horse.

    18 I left High Rock, and decided to finish my schooling in Vvardenfell. My mistake, I was captured and enslaved. Now in my early twenties, I escaped to Balmora, and then to Vivec City, and sought passage back to Daggerfall, and Got a Room at the Rosy Lion Inn.

    But I've been around, traverse mainly around High Rock, mostly in Wayrest and Daggerfall. Outside of High Rock, I recently discovered Valenwood, Gorgeous, Cold Harbour, Clockwork City, the Rift and up into Eastmarch.

    My fighting style is primarily Magic, and my favorite spells are, Power of light, Unstable Core, Blazing Shield, Breath of Life, and Total Darkness. Other Wise I'm using a Hickory Bow, I prefer to fight from a distance, on higher ground. I do Love my Oak Inferno Staff, Gifted to me By High King Emeric. And rarely dual-weilding with a Orichalcum Mace {Of Flame} & and Orichalcum Sword {of Shock}. My top Skills are Provisions, Enchanting, Legerdemain, Alchemy, Clothing and Woodworking.

    My go to Motifs for Weapons, Armor, Furnishings:
    • Breton
    • Redguard
    • Argonian
    • Ancient Elf

    Favorite Foods {As of Right now}:
    • Breton Pork Sausage
    • Cinnamon Grape Jelly
    • Garlic Mashed Potatoes

    Favorite Drinks {As of Right now}:
    • Sorry, Honey Lager
    • Mulled Wine
    • Winter Rose Tea

    My Goals now are to get a bigger place, I've been eyeing Daggerfall Outlook. It's a perfect Chateaux by the Water. Collect wondrous treasures on my adventures, and then Throw some grand parties of the Century.
    Edited by Mason_King on January 20, 2018 6:14AM
  • SydneyGrey
    SydneyGrey
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    ✭✭✭✭✭
    The backstory of one of my Redguards is that she lived in a small village in Alik'r until Molag Bal dropped a dang dolmen on top of them, and whatever members of her tribe weren't squashed by the dolmen were quickly killed by the dremora that swarmed out. She was the only survivor because she was out hunting, of course. :p

  • Chrysa1is
    Chrysa1is
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    Keep em coming guys!
    Running will only kill you faster when my venom enters your bloodstream.
  • Catsmoke14
    Catsmoke14
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    This one has enjoyed all the histories listed here.

    Many are quite colorful. This one presents the history of her husband Alqit the Cunning. Also colorful.

    Alqit is a sympathetic character, yes, but only when this one does not seek to put another knot in his head with a soup ladle. This story was revealed to this one upon a night when Alqit was deep in his cups, and for some time after resulted in many knots in the head. Alqit speaks truth at times, and lies when convenient or colorful.

    The reader may keep that fact in mind, yes?
    A Cat's Tale:
    Alqit the Cunning

    Alqit (later Alqit the Cunning) was raised as the pet of a Breton Noble's daughter by the name of Chaque Jour. As a kitten, Alqit would sleep at the foot of Chaque's bed. As they both grew into adolescence, Chaque became the first to realize that Alqit was actually Suthay-iso, had learned to speak Breton, and was as intelligent as any human. Chaque advanced to Iliac University, and Alqit soon advanced to sleeping under the covers with Chaque.

    These were happy times for Alqit! Alqit and Chaque shared a common interest in astronomy as well, and so she taught him to read and write, and Alqit would often help Chaque with her homework.

    But as he grew, it was becoming more and more obvious to others in the household that Alqit was not just some large breed of house cat, even though he still lapped milk from a bowl on the floor and used his litter box on the dungeon steps.

    Fearing for Alqit's life, Chaque reluctantly determined it best to send him away. She quietly gathered clothing, gear and money for him. One sad, gray autumn day they tearfully said their goodbyes.

    Alqit left her standing in the road, loped quickly away and never looked back. This was not out of any anger or hurt or callousness. He believed the sooner he left, and the farther he traveled the less his heart would ache for their parting. He discovered over time, like many another mortal, that this would not be the case.

    Alqit traveled South and East along the caravan roads. He had studied the histories of his people, the Khajiit, and knew that many were great traders and merchants, a few more were thieves and criminals, and some few were notable pirates. With this understanding, Alqit joined in with the caravans he encountered along the way, and found enough work from kindly Kajiiti merchants to get by.

    Often this 'work' involved tricks and minor illegalities, as Khajiiti merchants engage in sharp tactics when it comes to their business rivals. Alqit appeared to have a natural talent for such activities, and so acquired a reputation of sorts among his kin.

    Having been raised, so to speak, in a Breton household, Alqit was particularly well prepared for dealing with the abundant human population the merchants encountered. His oddest problem was learning to speak Khajiit. His most imminent concern was learning how to fight.

    Khajiit, like any race of cat, are born hunters. Alqit had hunted and killed small animals with his claws and teeth since he was a kitten. Fighting with daggers is a different art, but fortunately one he acquired easily. An old Khajiit merchant, D'far the One Eye, had spent some time "on the account" in his younger days, knew his way around a pair of short blades, and found a serious and adept student in Alqit.

    By the time Spring arrived the Caravan had reached Port Nopoint on the Gold Coast. Alqit had arrived as well. He was now full grown and indistinguishable from any other Khajiit, save for a peculiar Breton accent and a figurative hole in his heart that made him unusually withdrawn.

    D'Far had effectively become his adoptive father. But the caravan was going East, D'Far with it, and not Alqit.

    "Bright moons guide thee, my big strong M'au," said D'Far, hugging Alqit close. "As Khajiit trouble will find you. She will tease you, Alqit, and keep you company closer than any lover. She is no enemy. Make her your boon companion. Learn what she teaches."

    "Walk on warm sands Dro D'far." replied Alqit. "You have taught this one much. You are the father I never knew. It grieves me so that our travels together must end now. I should stay with thee!"

    "No, Alqit the Cunning. It is your time now, as it was mine so many moons ago. The ones you love are never farther than a cloud you plainly see in the sky, even though you can never touch. I will listen for word of thee, Alqit. And mayhap we will meet again."

    They parted then, and once again Alqit felt pain and loneliness. Whenever he saw a cloud thereafter he saw his father D'far, or his long ago lover Chaque.

    Alqit rolled his thumb and fingers over the small keepsake he had stolen from his father's pocket the last time they were together, a small clawfile in the shape of Rajhin. His father would be proud that his son could pick his pocket so cleanly.

    Alqit settled into life in Port Nopoint.

    Like any other Khajiit, he soon found trouble and adventures. He spent some time in jail for petty theft and misdemeanors. While incarcerated he learned new skills. He soon became a very efficient felon.

    Alqit's real troubles mostly began when he decided to have three wives. This he had no problem doing, as he was relatively flea resistant and smelled acceptably. He frequented the "Sugar Houses" that spring up anywhere Khajiiti gather in numbers, and freely spent there such coins as he found lying about in houses, businesses or unguarded pockets.

    First to attract his attention was Sugar Swiftclaws. Khajiiti courtship rituals and domestic arrangements are very different from almost any human culture. In example, Khajiit, both male and female alike, habitually cover their bodies neck to ankle in the manner of a prim Altmeri dowager.

    However, the "Sugar House" scene borrows much culturally from their human counterparts, particularly in the cities and towns beyond the borders of Elsweyr. Sugar Swiftclaws was, in effect. a server-dancer at the largest such establishment in Port Nopoint, the 'Tender Claws Café'.

    Sugar had beautiful brown fur and a lithe body, both amply apparent to the male and female clientele of the 'Claws'. Her bright green eyes locked with Alqit's hungry green eyes the moment she served his whitefish plate and moon sugar compote. Their eyes stayed focused on each other throughout her dance routine, which Alqit felt, rightly or wrongly, was danced for him alone.

    Alqit stayed until closing. He offered to walk her home. "Yes." she said, putting her paw in his.

    Some Khajiiti couples adhere to more ritual, and some less. Alqit and Sugar awoke in each other's arms, and forever on, whenever they were thus intertwined, Alqit's pain was lessened. And forever on, whenever they were so intertwined, Sugar's needs were met as well.

    It would strain the reader of brief histories overmuch to recount all the manner and detail of Alqit's adventures in love and other dungeons. In the end, with respect to his three wives, Sugar was the greatest worker, Hunter was the one he feared the most, and little Vain Silkpaws the one he loved the best.

    Postscript:

    The three wives decided that it was actually worth it to only have to put up with a husband 1/3 of the time, and thus decided to share Alqit. This is the true story behind his wanted poster.


    Alqit found it convenient to move up the coast to Anvil.
    One Night in Anvil

    Late Sun's Dusk Found Alqit the Cunning, his adoptive father D'far, and his number three (but best loved) wife Vain gathered around a table at the 'Mudcrab and Suds' in Anvil.

    A curious Imperial from the merchant sector had joined them, attracted by the talk of magic and science.

    "Tell us more of what you learned from this Breton hussy you were slave to," said Vain Silkpaws.

    "Pet," corrected Alqit, still uneasy about discussing his early years with any of his wives. "Not slave."

    Alqit sipped from his mug, marshalling his words.

    "A two dimensional universe is like a sheet of paper," said Alqit. "Many such two dimensional universes may be layered like sheets one on top of another in the third dimension. But they are separate sheets, and do not intersect. Thus they are separate universes and have no interactions with each other. Hence Mundus and Oblivion."

    "Thus and so," agreed D'far. "When this one is between sheets with S'ala Big Nose there is no interaction whatsoever. Just snoring. Hence D'far and S'ala." He took a generous swig of Moon Whiskey. He was at this juncture, perhaps, not following the finer points of the discussion.

    "Now, angle one sheet so it intersects the other," continued Alqit undisturbed. "The intersection, a line, exists in both universes, yes? This is what the sorcerous ones do when they summon creatures from the planes of Oblivion. It is an intersection between universes, and likewise, an intersection between magic and science."

    Alqit drew a long sip from his mug of Arenthian Brandy.

    "But a summons is not a line, it is a globe," pointed out the Imperial, swirling his wine.

    "Of course," said Alqit. "We are creatures of three dimensional space, thus the intersection most often takes the shape of a sphere, the boundary of least energy."

    "What is energy?" asked Vain. She was never quite certain if her husband was a Khajiit genius or a babbling lunatic, but she loved it when he stretched her thoughts like this.

    "Energy is that quantity that makes things happen. Wind the spring of a music box. You have put energy into the spring. The spring now has some energy to do the work of rotating the drum of the music box, allowing a tune to be played. Energy made that happen."

    "But only so much! The energy of the elastic spring coil soon runs out, and the spring once again must be wound. Oddly enough, the energy did not disappear, nor did it get used up. It remains in the form of 'heat' in the surroundings. But it has lost most of its ability to do work. This goes far astray of our original discussion however."

    "So I could heat our house this winter with music boxes?"

    "With enough of them yes, Vain, but this one would prefer the sound of a crackling fire to the cacophony of several thousand music boxes."

    The Imperial laughed aloud at Alqit's imagery.

    "Ah, so much is clear," expressed D'far the One Eye, belching. "I must use the privy."

    D'far stumbled a bit as he stood to go, brushing briefly against the Imperial, deftly picking his pocket.

    Vain laid her head on Alqit and tucked her paw under his arm.

    "This has been a profitable evening," she purred. "This one expects to see a shiny new music box under the New Life tree, yes?"
    Edited by Catsmoke14 on November 16, 2018 1:13PM
  • Reistr_the_Unbroken
    Reistr_the_Unbroken
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    If this thread ain’t dead- I made Reistr back in Skyrim, did the house of horrors quest and made him a vampire. I read too many things on Reddit so uuuh here’s this-)
    — — — — — — — — —
    Two nords who’s names have been lost to time had a son born on the 8th of Sun’s Dusk. They decided to name their son Reistr the Unbroken who grew up with a normal life until the age of five. By this time, his father had begun to take leave to go to the college of Winterhold so he could learn the arts of necromancy.
    At the of 9, Reistr barely saw his father anymore but had a strong bond with his mother. It was this time that his parents quietly agreed to divorce and see other people, as his father had never been around to help either of them.
    A year later his mother remarried to a dark elf who was nice to them. The new father had begun to teach Reistr about spells and some combat skills which was something the child was excited about.

    Fifteen years later the Nord had decided to go explore the town of Markarth- and from there everything changed. He had unexpectedly run into a vigilant of Stendaar who had invited him to investigate an abandoned house. Agreeing to come and help out and stepping inside the home, Reistr felt that something seemed off; unfortunately the Daedric Prince of domination had been waiting for years for someone to enter.. and at last someone had come.
    The deeper into the house the two men went, the more uneasy Reistr felt. It wasn’t until the vigilante had almost been struck by a flying pan and finding out that a door had been locked that he heard a voice in his head: "Weak. He’s weak. You’re strong. Crush him!"
    Arriving at the now locked front door, both the vigilant and himself were forced to fight to the death; Reistr was guilty of killing his companion, but in his mind it was out of self defense.
    Pleased with what the Nord had done, the Prince lured him down to his shrine and quickly ensnared the mortal in a cage. Terrified by this, Reistr could only helplessly listen to the charming, yet cruel voice that spoke in his mind. A brief conversation between the two revealed that Reistr quietly agreed to help the Prince capture a priest of Boethiah. Eventually he found him and brought him back; however he was soon forced to kill the priest. Molag had rewarded Reistr with his mace, deeming the Nord as his new champion.

    Months after the incident, Reistr had at one point joined the Dawnguard- which soon fell flat when he agreed to join the Volkihar clan. Since it was so close to Molag’s summoning day, the Nord was turned by the Prince himself. It was excruciatingly painful, and he had lost nearly all of his soul as a result.
    A now newly made vampire, everything had been fine until Lord Harkon had revealed his plans to block out the sun. For months the fledgling vampire was trying to convince the clan leader that this wasn’t the way- only to be ignored and called a weakling. Fighting had begun amongst the two until it was a full on brawl; it lasted only twenty minutes, but it was enough time for Harkon to nearly kill Reistr and tear off a piece of his left ear. With a snarl Harkon allowed the vampire to recover in his castle; after that, Reistr had been exiled- but he was glad about it.

    The vampire had been allowed to live in Coldharbour shortly after as he had nowhere else to go. It was a harsh environment, but it was the only place where he was somewhat accepted- yet he wasn’t prepared for the grueling torture that awaited him. Two hundred years passed, many beatings and seeing what happened to the innocent made him slowly despise the Prince. Carefully watching the schedules of the Dremora and Xivkyn, he decided to escape the hell while he still could. He had just barely been able to do it... but now he had to face the problem of the Dawnguard trying to kill him, and Molag’s Dremora trying to drag him back to Coldharbour alive...
    — — — — — — — — —
    I’m sorry this is so dumb-

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