Niri (they/them)

Icy stam-bowden

 

 

RIIIIIIIIINA!

Bow Warden rDPS

ぼく Bow Warden です。

You can only rely upon yourself, you know this well. Regardless of any "allies" you find around you, when push comes to shove you know it is your skills that will determine your fate. So you do whatever you must to be self-sufficient, never wanting to expose any source of weakness. But this has always been your way perhaps, the tale of yours that writes itself has always favored forcing you to adapt and improve, thankfully you've always managed.

 

The Atronach | Sun's Dusk / November | Provisioning, Alchemy

((OMG @Jance you should have poked me to do this sooner! I totally missed these sheets my bad! ))

 

By the time you finish you day's work the moons have risen high into the night's sky. You gaze into a nearby pool of water and find your fur speckled in mud and dirt from another hard day on the farm, your kind heart makes you feel proud at what you've accomplished, but somewhere deep inside you yearn for something a bit more.

 

You gaze upwards upon the moons, and a smile creeps across your face, something feels different about this night... almost as it's the beginning of something new.

Unaware as you are, you couldn't of possibly taken note of the shining of the night stars.... showcasing that of...

 

The Shadow | Second Seed / May | Stealth, Infiltration

 

((Also her and Rina need to be best friends))

Bow Warden rDPS 

Bow Warden rDPS

Another long week of research.... another debatable success. You shrug your shoulders into a stretch, to wake them from their stiff position hunched over the ritual table you've painstakingly prepared; as you do a sound reaches your ears... another would be research thief struggling with your traps to your lab. You smirk with satisfaction, knowing your life's work will not be so easily taken from you, as you have always had a particular skill-set when it comes to security... perhaps it relates to how you resonate when you look upon the stars... and when your eyes always are drawn to that of...

 

The Tower | Frostfall / October | Lockpicking, Spying

((Couple of notes, so the Valeguardians would refer to the group mostly as foreigners. The term mainlander doesn't work as much due to the distance the island is from Tamriel. Also Skill Number 5 is still the template don't know if you wanted a skill there or not. Beyond that looks great!))

 

Berretus, you've spent many long hours alone in the woods; hunting after your prey and living off the land. You've been raised by others, yet somehow feel you need to rely upon yourself. But this doesn't bother you, for you've benefited from such self-efficiency. When you gaze upon the sky, your eyes are drawn to a particular spot... a spot that feels like home.... that of the Sign of...

 

The Atronach | Sun's Dusk / November | Provisioning, Alchemy

Bow Warden rDPS cause it's all I got at the moment. Can run Ice Fortress/Leeching Vines

/Sign

@Telana I'mma need you to be your most pesky of chickens tonight. 

The rays of early morning crack through the trees, shining down upon you at your camp sight, you awaken to the chirps of birds and the rustling of squirrels as the scamper around a nearby bush. As you wipe the morning drowsiness from your eyes you have a moment of inspiration, causing you to think of a tune for a song... these types of moments are common enough for you, creativity has always been something you tackled with ease. After all, when you gaze upon the night sky, across all of the vast space your eyes are always drawn first to that of...

 

The Lover | Sun's Dawn / February | Bard, Artist

 

((Here ya go @witchbolts a sign oddly fitting for your character! Gotta love when that happens ))

Your work often takes place during dark nights, but they trouble you not. You tirelessly perfect your craft, always desiring to learn and develop to be the best you can be.... and you know you're favored in your endeavor... for as you look up at the night sky.... constantly above you... is the Sign of...

 

The Ritual | Morning Star / January | Medical Knowledge, Detective/Empathic Accuracy

You're meticulous, always carefully preparing your moves... one night, as you look from the window of some far flung inn room, you see the clouds part.... only enough to show you what you've always known to be dear to your heart.... that of the Sign of...

 

The Apprentice | Sun's Height / July | Scribe, Tailoring

Life around the battlefield has an odd sense of comfort to you... where others fear the sound of warhorns, they excite your heart deep down. When the dark clouds of war blot out the heavens above, you fear not... for you know looking down at you is that of the Sign of...

 

The Lord | First Seed / March | Military Tactics, Forger

 

(( Jance.... why is your RNG luck just perfect? lmao ))

The night has always called to you, in more ways than one, the quiet silence of the nocturnal hours are your home... the simple bliss of shadows being your comfort... you gaze upon the night sky, with a thin smile, and from above you almost winking back... shines the Sign of...

 

The Shadow | Second Seed / May | Stealth, Infiltration

 

 

((Gosh I love when RNG works perfectly xD ))

You've always shined brightly, with the way you carried yourself, and your interactions with others. People notice that about you, and you've started to notice it about yourself... You look upon the night sky, and see yourself in the stars... within that of the Sign of...

 

The Lady | Heartfire / September | Diplomacy/Persuasion, Jewelcrafting

A voice descends upon you in a dream, calling out to you, desiring to grant you understanding. All your life you've known something was different about you, a natural talent that seemed easier to train. Finally, you have the knowledge of the why... from the depths of Aetherius, the voice calls to you, telling you that of which has guided your fate.... the Sign of...

 

The Steed | Midyear / June | Riding, Beast Mastery

 

((This story takes place prior to The Circle of Hope claiming Claw Ridge Keep as their new stronghold))

 

Syhrina took a sip of her warm spiced mead, one of the many drinks the Orsimer Mort was known for brewing in the frigid cold of The Pale. The young Bosmer was slowly starting to adjust to her new life among the Companions, and learning much and more about the homeland of the Nords.

 

“Aye, and it was such a treat to watch Felix drive his axe through the skull of that troll! The bugger thought he could push past me shield! HA, look where that got ‘em!” Bjorn was loudly retelling another tale to a disinterested Jora and a distracted Mort.

 

Felix, the Colovian, was sitting across the table from Rina, closest to the fireplace. His well groomed mustache seemed to fit his face more and more, the Bosmer thought after the many weeks they had been adventuring together.

 

“Indeed, however, I think the important part is the contract was well worth the trip. Fifty gold a piece? For a single troll? I would drag the wagon all the way to Markarth myself for such an easy job.” Felix laughed in his Imperial accent.

 

“I dunno about all that, but it was a nice amount of gold for an easy task… but in terms of adventure… I dunno it felt kinda cheap.” Rina said as she sipped from her mug.

 

“Siren has the right of it, I say,” Mort looked up from the keg he was stirring, “Honorable fights mean more than heavy sacks of coin, and while I am sure the troll was a troubling menace to the small fishing village… it hardly needed all of us to dispatch it.”

 

“Well we didn’t exactly know it was only a single troll, the way the contractor pleaded in his letter made it sound like the village was being raided by a small army.” Jora said as she adjusted the way she was sitting in the chair.

 

The group continued to both cheer and complain around the table for another few hours. As the night dragged on, and the crew felt their wits drowned out by Mort’s Mead, they went downstairs into their quarters to rest for the night.

 

Syhrina awoke before the crack of dawn, feeling as if her head had a new crack of its own. She decided to go ahead and prepare for the day as she tossed the heavy fur blanket off and stepped into the frigid morning air that left her pale skin riddled with goosebumps. Upon getting dressed the Bosmer left the basement and ascended up the spiraling stairs to the lighthouse itself. Converted into a humble rookery the bright beacon of light also served as a way for mail to be delivered, and in the rough harsh weather of The Pale that was the easiest way to learn of new job contracts.

 

Jora had been attempting to teach the Bosmer how to read, and in these early hours Rina practiced by herself as she took the sealed letter from the raven perched atop the lighthouse’s railing.

“De…..ear, dear…. Wah...war...worry….warriors!” Syhrina worked through the letters best she could as the light of day began to shine across the horizon.

 

Working through the letter she returned down below to find the others near the kitchen, chatting as Mort cooked a humble breakfast stew. Rina moved over and handed the letter to Bjorn who took to reading it aloud to the group.

 

“Dear warriors, oh how nice, ahem. The purpose of this letter is that our humble holding has been the target of harassment by a band of raiders. Blah blah blah, this type of fancy letter writin’ always hurts me eyes, anyway it seems that some small farmin village in The Rift bein’ raided, sounds like that honorable fight ye be wantin’ Stewmaster.” Bjorn handed the letter around the group for those who wanted more details.

 

The group took turns reading over the letter, trying to gather as much as they could from the plea for aid. While they ate their food, Felix spoke up.

 

“It makes little sense to me as why they would not simply turn to the hold guards? Surely a force from Riften could both make it to them quicker and resolve the matter more efficiently?” The Colovian twirled the end of his mustache.

 

“They probably fear that the bandits have bribed the guards into letting them get away with this kind of thing,” Jora said as she finished her bowl, “Most likely they thought to seek aid from the honor-bound Companions. Hoping our taste for gold isn’t outweighed.”

 

“Aye, as usual the Snow-Spell most likely is right, as for I, well I am ready to take my axes to these bandits. When shall we depart Wall-Maker?” Mort said as he tidied up the kitchen.

 

Bjorn looked around the group as he finished writing a letter in response, “We leave as soon as you folks mount up. It’s a decent trip from here to there, but least the weather is nicer.”

 

Bjorn headed up the lighthouse to send the letter back with the raven that arrived in the morning, meanwhile the other four readied their things and loaded their saddlebags. In little time the team was crossing back into the mainland and heading down the icy road leading towards central Skyrim.

 

As the hours passed Syhrina felt the weight of her armor upon her, still growing used to the chainmail protecting her small frame, the Bosmer laid forward and flat against the back of Riellebet. The wolf continued to follow the road without any issues himself.

 

As the light of the sun began to wane the group made camp, finding a thicket of trees to shelter them from the howling frozen winds of The Pale. Felix and Bjorn went off to collect firewood while Mort sought after some fresh meat, leaving Rina and Jora to set up the tents. Small lean-tos forming a half circle. Rina gathered some rocks for the bases as Jora used her magic to reinforce the positioning and clear the snow from the ground.

 

“So where did you learn your magicks Jora?” Rina asked as she finished securing the lean-tos’ bases.

 

“There is a college of sorts to the northeast and while most Nords shy away from the arcane, that establishment is quite esteemed with their understanding.”

 

Rina nodded along and continued chatting for a time until the men returned. The group stoked the fire and began to roast a nicely sized doe. Mort muttered to himself something about seasonings, while Felix and Bjorn arm-wrestled over who’d get to cut up and serve the meat once prepared. Rina took advantage and swiped up a raw portion of the tender flesh that she chewed on happily… much to Jora’s dismay.

 

“That certainly is the quickest way to spend the rest of this outing in a bush somewhere…”  The mage said flatly.

 

Rina gave a dismissing wave of her hand, “Y’ffre blessed the Bosmer with the ability to truly enjoy the natural order of things, she would of never made it were we couldn’t survive off the land without fire!”

 

Time passed and the group enjoyed the simple meal, as the night air began to chill they retreated into their lean-tos and drifted off to sleep. The following morning rushed by, with the Companions packing up and resuming their pace towards The Rift. As they began to circle around the massive Throat, they all were happy to find the environment beginning to thaw out and turn to more comfortable woodlands.

 

Soon the group arrived near the spot that the bandits were rumored to of been operating out of, an abandoned inn left behind to rot away. Bjorn dismounted and adjusted his gear, before stepping in front of the derelict building and shouting out.

 

“Look ‘ere, we know who ye are and what ye’ve been up too. Submit yourselves now and we can give you quick and honorable deaths.” Bjorn called out as he stuck his sword into the soft dirt, a sign of preparing for battle.

 

Felix and Mort stood behind, both taking a whetstone to their axes, while Jora and Rina remained mounted, preparing spells and arrows respectively. As the group prepared for the fight a voice rung out from the inn.

 

“We spit on you and your fake honor, we’re just surviving the way we know best, just like you lot! Sellswords like you pretend to be high and mighty, but just kill for coin just like us.” the voice spat.

Bjorn gave a simple shake of his head, “Nay, you see there is a fair ‘mount of difference. The Companions are honor-bound to their contracts, people pay us to accomplish our jobs and we do it without compromising the values of all true Nords. It’s why you see us here before you giving you lot a honest chance, instead of just burning you out in the night. So… I say again… submit to justice or die violently…. Your choice.”

 

Silence.

 

Fwoosh!

 

From within the inn, one of the window covers creaked open just enough and an arrow came rushing out, Bjorn stood tall and firm as the bolt rushed towards him. The blond man waited half a heartbeat before swinging his shield out in front of him, just in time for the arrow to smack into the dense steel and fall to the dirt. Bjorn straighten his posture, and grabbed his blade from the soil, lifting it into the air.

 

“Companions! For glory! For Honor! For Skyrim!”

 

Jora was the first to respond, the woman muttered under her breath and pressed her hands out in front of her. Her horses remained steady as a fireball shot out and towards the door of the inn, ripping it off the hinges and blasting inwards. The burning wood licked the insides and began to spread.

 

Two bandits wasted no time, rushing out of the now burning inn, armed with a sword and a mace the two rushed towards Bjorn! The mace-wielder eagerly swung, trying to cave in the smirking face of the blond Nord, but Wall-Maker easily stopped the attack with a block of his shield, the swordsman attempted to take advantage of this, sidestepping and thrusting out the point of his blade, aiming for Bjorn’s side.

 

But the bandit swordsman was too slow, and with a sudden swing his arm fell into the dirt, as Felix brought down his massive greataxe. The now one-armed bandit screamed out, until Rina let loose her arrow and silenced him forever. Mort rushed forward and stood behind Bjorn, towering over him, the Orc slammed down his battle axes over and into the shoulders of the mace-wielding bandit, tearing into leather armcops. Bjorn moved his shield aside and thrusted his sword out, piercing the bandit through the throat.

 

As the bodies fell to the ground, Bjorn let loose a sigh and once more shouted out.

 

“This won’t end the way you want it, yer place is aflame and two of you are already dead… save yourself the trouble and submit.”

 

The bandits answered with a volley of arrows. Bjorn raised his shield to cover himself and Felix to his left, while Jora and Rina rolled off of their mounts and out of the way. Mort grunted in anger and fury as two arrows struck him in the chest and shoulder, the massive Orc stepped forward and unleashed a bloodthirsty roar.

 

“Fine by me! I actually prefer to tear you all apart one by one!” The Orc rushed forward, driving his shoulder into the front of the inn, crashing through the fire-weakened wood. As part of the front wall toppled down on top of one of the bandit archers, Mort wasted no time driving on of his axes into the man’s face. One of the other archers inside let loose his arrow into the Orc, sticking Mort in the side, the behemoth pushed himself to his feet and shouted out once more in fury as he ripped the arrow from his side.

 

Bjorn and Felix rushed in, to assist their comrade,blades swinging outwards; Felix’s axe shattered the remaining archer’s bow, and Bjorn’s blade fell just short of ending the man’s life.

 

Rina worked her way up to the newly formed hole in the wall, and from behind the cover of it let loose an arrow into one of the bandits who was rushing towards to try and attack the men from behind, the arrow ripped through the raised hand of the man forcing him to drop his dagger. Jora stepped next to the Bosmer and unleashed a torrent of lightning magic into the wounded man, quickly ending his existence.

 

Bjorn lunged forward finishing off the disarmed archer, stabbing through his leather jerkin and twisting around, cutting the man through and through. The inn was truly ablaze by this point, forcing the Companions to retreat back outside. As they rushed out of the building the burning wood cracked and popped, as it began to collapse, the bandits still inside shouted out in pain as they were trapped inside… left to burn.

 

“What a terrible way to go...Arkay take them with open arms... “ Rina muttered as she covered he face to block the heat of the flames.

 

“They had a choice… and they made it.” Bjorn spat on the ground as Felix and Jora saw to Mort’s injuries.

 

Feeling solemn and as if the battle turned out regrettably, the Companions remounted and headed into the nearby village to collect their reward.

7 hours ago, Chelly said:

@Icy

 

I want to see about changing my sheet, maybe just have healing stuff on her.  I also think I need to fix her age. (age her to say 80-90 since they are long lived )  I thinkI also need to research a bit on it.  Though I am tempted to just bring in a new toon. 

 

It was so much easier to do a sheet on ryver. 

Yeah having some healing stuff makes sense, especially if she doesn't have a background in Restoration. As for the age yeah, for an Altmer the 80s would be akin to a normal person's mid-twenties, I imagine. Where as she is now, she's younger than Rina and Fenris, and you see how they act lol

Tagging RP friendos, come check this out! There will be RP parts to it and also a nice safe place to check out some PvP!

Blessings of Aetherius  descend upon this child, anointing their birth under that of....

 

The Lover | Sun's Dawn / February | Bard, Artist

 

HA, how fitting for your character, eh? But yeah looks interesting and I'm excited to get to know him!

 

Account: @IcyFrost93

 

Character Name: Bjorn Wall-Maker

Race: Nord

Gender: Male

Age: 28

Birth Sign: The Serpent

Occupation: Nord Companion

 

Gear: Nordic Sword and Orcish Shield. Thick leather armor with chainmail underneath.

 

Commonly carried items: Ale-horn on his belt

 

Skills:

1. One-Handed | Adept | 1*

2. Two-Handed | Novice | 0*

3. Blacksmithing | Novice | 0*

4. Intimidation | Adept | 0**

5. Parry | Adept | 1*

6. Shield | Master | 2*

7.Alcohol Tolerance | Adept | 2

8. Athletics | Adept | 2

9. Diplomacy | Adept | 2

10. Hunting | Adept | 2

11. Leatherworking | Novice | 0*

12. Scribe | Novice | 1

13. Nature Survival | Adept | 2

 

 

Points Used: 13

Points Available: 17

 

Flaws:

1. Idealist / Believes in the might of an honorable life. Wants to bring peace to the lands with the might of his shield and sword.

2. Impatient  / Rushes off into battle once the threat is known, can’t abide lolly-gaggin’!

 

Number of Flaws:2

Blessings of Aetherius descend upon this child, signifying their birth under that of...

 

The Warrior | Last Seed / August | Survival, Blacksmithing