i always struggle to make interesting chracters in skyrim ... i just find the game a lot less immersive than oblivion

i have started to play dragonborn with a nords nord, warhammer and heavy armour , it is OK but i am already missing oblivivon

I always read them. I do not always comment, because I do not always know what to say. But I always read.

That's good to know. I was joking up above anyways.

flowerbloom: don't force yourself to play.

well i am enjoying it...its vanilla content , what else can i do?

Hey, did you ever get that link I sent? You should be able to to put that pic of the green White Gold Tower up, assuming I sent you the right link.

Name: Deagan Velnas

Race: Imperial

Gender: Male

Age: 30

Sign: The Theif

Home Country: Cyrodiil

Faction and Rank or Guilds(if none, tell us what they do for a living): Assassin, unaffiliated with any major factions. Thief, affiliated with small organization of his own founding that has achieved only moderate renown.

Class: Assassin/Thief

Class Description: A genuine lowlife by trade, Deagan generally does whatever it takes to get gold out of the pockets of others and into his own.

Skills and talents: Very fast and agile on his feet. Great at speechcraft. Proficient with a dagger or short blade. Has some knowledge of local flora and can create some types of poisons. His fondness for mechanincal function has made him adequate at lockpicking. Is proficient at several things but an expert at none.

Physical Appearance: Deagan is nearly average in every way, shape, and form, which makes him an excellent assassin. His hair is an ordinary dark brown color and he constantly has a light stubble on his face. His appearance is best described as "clean but intentionally left unkept".

Eyes: Brown.

Build: Not heavy but neither is Deagan particularly light. Some lean muscle covers his body but he doesn't stand out in a crowd. His height is about average at 5' 11".

Weapons of preference: Iron daggers, iron shortswords, and bows. Usually prefers cheap and disposable weapons.

Clothing: Varies depending on location and job. Generally will attempt to blend with local population.


Mental Profile/Personality: Deagan is a heavy drinker and drug abuser in his private time. On the job he's generally stone sober. He is a pessimist in nearly every way, rarely seeing the bright side of any situation. He often uses humor and sarcasm as a defense mechanism. He is great at playing on people's personalities and can influence almost anyone given adequate time with them. Despite generally being person lax in morals, Deagan will never betray loyalties of people who have earned them. He will go to great lengths to protect those that he respects but would attempt to keep from endangering himself to do so.


Biography/Life History: He started off as the son of an armorer. His early years were spent running errands for his mother and father. He never wanted to follow in his father's footsteps and decided to pursue his fortune through other means. He has worked briefly as a thief, a bodyguard, and an assassin. He slipped up during an assassination attempt and found himself imprisoned for several years. Through unknown means he escaped and has met up with a group of people that he once knew in his younger years, a gang of his own founding that has grown into a local thieves guild in his hometown. His future intentions are unclear but some hold to the belief that he intends to finish what he started and take out the target that he failed go kill. Those close to him believe that the vendetta he has against the mark is very personal and that he's willing to do whatever it takes to remove this person from society.

Here's a character that I created today and will probably be staying with him for some time.

Name: Chamany La Verden (Ch is pronounced as Sh)

Gender: Male

Race: Breton

Date of birth: 7th of Morning Star 4€164 (37 years old)

Birth-sign: The Ritual

Homeland: High Rock

Appearance: Chamany

Background (short): Chamany La Verden was born in a wealthy, influential and aristocratic family from High Rock but he never wanted to become part of high society which he saw as hypocritical. After breaking off his engagement he travelled far away from High Rock and decided to search for his fortune elsewhere. He worked as a stable boy, blacksmith's apprentice in Orsinium, shield bearer in Hammerfell and eventually a mercenary in Cyrodiil. He was paid to accompany some renegade Nords through The Jerall Mountains to the border of Skyrim but was ambushed by the Imperial soldiers.

Personality: Since Chamany spent most of his life alone, he's very self-reliable and sometimes over confident in his abilities. He can be pompous and ostentatious on occasion - a trait which he undoubtedly inherited from his family. Still, he's a good man but has sometimes his own logic of what is good and what is wrong. Since he was migrating a lot, he dislikes attaching to someone and prefers changing location instead.

Name: Mycharonna the Ice Witch

Status:Dead

Race: Imperial

Gender: Hag

Age: About 50 (middle-aged) in Earth terms

Sign: Mage / Aquarius

Home: Anise's Cabin

Spouse: none. She had a husband in Bruma, but he died. Which is one of the reasons she moved to Skyrim. Turns out, her husband was involved with the Dark Brotherhood during its collapse down in Cyrodiil.

Home Country: Cyrodiil. Her former home was probably Applewatch near Bruma. Or a place just like Applewatch.

Faction and Rank or Guilds(if none, tell us what they do for a living): Dark Brotherhood.

Faction Description:

Class: Ice Witch

Class Description: Mycharonna is basically a Mage who specializes in frost magics.

Alignment: Chaotic Evil

Dragonborn? No !!!!!

Skills and talents: One-handed, Light Armor, Naturalist*, Alchemy, Enchanting

*=tabletop stuff

Physical Appearance: You mean like this?

Eyes: white before becoming a vamp. Now they're red.

Build: slender. Somewhat fragile pre-vamp, but now she's stronger.

Weapons of preference: daggars of all kinds. She carries 3 or 4 enchanted daggars with her at all times.

Clothing: Mostly Necrorobes or other such witchy-looking gear. Fur boots & a variety of gauntlets (both light and heavy). She also can transform herself (shapeshift) so that she appears to wear normal middle-class clothes if she walks into a civilized area. This happens in an instant if I'm using one of Kinect's voice commands.

Miscellaneous:: Mycharonna carries a book of daedra, and also a book of alchemy ingredients. She's a light reader, in other words. She does not care for money, or social status, or being politically correct. She does not ride horses.

Magic abilities or powers: Destruction (specializes in Frost, though), Frenzy, Fear, Raising the Dead, Oakflesh, Summon Fire Atronach, Shape Shifting (see above in Clothing section), plus a variety of vampire spells and powers.

Mental Profile/Personality: When I first 'met' Mycharonna the Ice Witch, I knew nothing about her. Now I realize she's probably borderline schizophrenic: she has "lucid" moments as well as "mad" ones. This is mostly due to some sort of tragedy (or tragedies) in her former life in Bruma.

Biography/Life History: Mycharonna was married to a man, and they made their home either in Applewatch or near it. Her mental health was tenuous at best, and when her husband died, she found herself alone, with nobody to comfort her. She became the "old hag" who lived a the cabin, the type of storybook character adults gossip about and children fear.

I am not sure how she got involved in magic, because she seems to have previously been a farmer, with a knowledge of various ingredients/light Alchemy. But somehow she wound up with a traveling band of rogue mages. Skankee Krahk-ho was another of these mages (see above). Their pack got split up by Lord Haaf-Mersey, my do-gooding Crusader, and Mycharonna happened to also be one of the survivors from this holy attack.

She wound up at Anise's Cabin, and initially wanted to join Anise (who has a note in her cellar claiming to want to form a coven of witches), but Anise attacked Mycharonna, so Anise had to die. Mycharonna is kinda like Skank: she follows her own path, but Mycharonna will occasionally try to get involved in following a quest. But it's never for money; Mycharonna does not care for gold solely on its own; she's after the thrill.

My Ice Witch (...thought I was gonna say My Sharonna, hah? ) recently became a vampire, and gladly so. As a milddle-aged woman completely on her own, she was starting to lose her sanity, and also starting to deal with a variety of aches and pains. She did not look forward to dying. Becoming a vampire was a quick solution to all of these problems. As a vamp, she now wanders around, exploring Skyrim and doing whatever she pleases. She looks for opportunities to screw with people's heads if she can get away with it.

2015 EDIT: She spent much of her time with the Dark Brotherhood, and did this questline until near-completion. She wound up 'sacrificing' herself to Titus Mede II instead of killing him, and to this day, I don't even know why she decided to do this.

you sent me the picture but um.. no line of text i could just copy and paste

Im really terrible with this sort of thing , i literally spent 6 months on the other forums asking people how to use mods and the stuff they came out with bamboozled me , i literally had no idea what they were talking about . After months and months a nice simple user came up and said " i think i have the solution to your problem" and gave me a link to NMM , its probaly not ideal BUT it gets the job done and it does it well .

Yesterday me and mirocu spent what felt like half the day exchanging private messages on how to upload pictures , well he was really sweet and kind and after some extreme patience we finally managed it . Now i can take pictures of oblivion for the first time.

But your picture is bamboozling me , ill go and look at it again but for me if i cant copy/paste something i usally give up ( unless , like in mirocu's case , its really well explained to me so i can actually understand what to do. )

You should be able to cut & paste the text. Try "quoting" your text. While you are in the quote window, the pic should appear as code.

I enjoyed reading about Mycharonna, Renee, her backstory is a little sad, especially after her husband died. And her appearance suits her personality very well.

...and I enjoyed reading about Chamany; looking forward to some tales about him.

Mycharonna is a rather sad person for me to be with, kinda like Ann Thraxx (another char. of mine, but she's in Oblivion instead of Skyrim). But unlike Ann, Mycharonna has more of a will and means to combat her own demons, wheras Ann is only tortured by hers. But Mycharonna doesn't have the equivalent of Haldol or Thorazine or our modern meds, so she "combats her demons" by trying to mess with other people's psyches. IF she doesn't like them, that is.

Here we go, errbody! It's Kayla!!

The only way I could get a shot of her face was if I sent her to the face sculptor. She originally had a braid, but I cut her hair short because it is more practical for her XD the things she fights are pretty grabby. She has a scar on her left cheek from improper healing, but she is still a stone-cold fox! XD

Kayla is hot! Am I guessing right from her golden skin that she is a high elf? I like scars on my characters, they add flavor to their appearance.

Woah!

She sure is a High Elf :] I was making her and going "Wow... she's gorgeous" lol

*







Full Name: Ma'Thjizzrini Qa (now S'Thjizzrini Qa, since she is no longer a virgin)

Nicknames/Aliases: Maxical

Sex: Female

Religion: Any god or Daedric Lord she thinks will listen when trouble hits - which ever one’s name pops into her head at the time.

Race: Khajiit

Age: Turned 21 the same year Uriel Septim was assassinated.

Day of Birth: Unknown to her* Maxical was born 3rd Era 412, the 27th of Last Seed. When she was found orphaned at age five the Legion guessed her age at 2 and listed the birthday given all beasts, making her new birthday 3rd Era 415, the 1st of Morning Star. This was the only birthday she knew till she turned 20 years old.

Birthsign: Unknown

Birthplace: Somewhere on the Septim’s Gate Pass - No man's land.

Occupation: Former Arena fighter, final rank achieved: Gladiator


Major Skills: Blade, stealth, picking locks, illusion

Minor Skills: Light armor

Maxical is small, but she is strong/agile/and athletic. She fights dirty, uses psychological warfare and anything she can get her hands on.

She trained under Alix Lencolia in Blade; the late Uriel Septim in strategic planning and espionage; and Sir Damien in espionage, infiltration, and stealth. She has worked with the Blades.

Unknown where it comes from, but she has “The gift of the voice” - untrained, so knows no thu’ums. (but her singing is known to be some form of torture to Daedra, vampires complain that their spleens nearly rupture when hearing her sing - and it hasn’t been proven, but it is rumored her singing caused the spontaneous sterilization of the rats around the Arena.



** Maxical has a magic conduction disorder that causes 100% weakness to magic and almost the complete inability to heal. It also effects her ability to aim using ranged weapons or spells (therefore she must use area spells). It also causes all her conjures to be hostile.

While the healing side of her magic is blocked, the destruction side is intensified + unstable/volatile. (more likely to blow up a building accidentally killing all in it than kill the one enemy she was aiming at).



Gear: The Honor Blade of Chorrol, un-enchanted. A silver dagger, un-enchanted.

Glass Cuirass, Spell absorption greaves, Spell absorption amulet, spell reflection shield. Springheel Jack's boots.

2 dresses, 1 red striped shirt, (1 same type gray striped shirt for pajamas, it has matching socks and panties), 1 bathing suit. 1 ancient Dunmer ring with 100% resistance to magic (Aren family crest on it), the Jewel of the Rumare (swimming underwater), 2 rings to boost her healing magic. 1 joke ring that makes people giggle hanging on a gold chain, 1 amulet of spell absorption.

2 vials vampire juices, 2 healing potions + 10 chameleon scrolls for duplicating potions when needed.


http://a3.ec-images.myspacecdn.com/images0...fd988d6ec/l.jpg


Family: Adoptive Father and mother: Alix Lencolia and S’Jirra.

Birth mother: Shivani (deceased). Former slave of the Dunmer Stronghold of Hlormaren on the Bitter Coast of Vvardenfell. Shivani and her husband S'Vandra were both freed when a man claiming to be the Nerevarine cleared the Stronghold, freeing all the slaves.

Birth father: Shivani had an affair with Ormellius Goldwine, her boss. Shivani‘s husband S'Vandra (also deceased) is not Maxical’s father.

Two best friends, Eyja and Nisaba (the Khajiit bandit by the bridge just north of Waters Edge).

Appearance: Pure white Khajiit of mixed race (Imperial and Khajiit). Red hair in ponytail, shorter than most Khajiit, (5’2” and weighing 100 pounds). Gray-green eyes depending on outfit. Small breasted/athletic build, keeps herself immaculately clean whenever possible. Does not like to smell like a cat.

Personality: A good natured prankster, naïve, not the brightest candle in the sconce brains-wise. Very quick red-headed temper, but cools down just as quickly. She is frank on speaking what is on her mind, and not always diplomatically (spontaneous blurting). Loyal. Maxical tries to be good (but doesn’t always succeed). She is not always on the right side of things, but believes strongly in whatever she does.

History: Mother Shivani and her husband S’Vandra were killed in a minotaur attack in County Skingrad when Maxical was age 5. Maxical has no memories of the attack or any moment of her life prior to it.

At that same time and vicinity, a centuries long feud had heated up and was raging between three ancient vampires (Greywyn Blenwyth, the necromancer Dagoth-Malan, and his cohort Movarth Piquine).

At the center of the feud was Amiela, a 137 year old vampire who had died a century ago (but the wars being fought over her continued on for possession of her soul). The soul was stolen and through necromancy was hidden inside 5 year old Maxical.

Maxical was dropped off at the Legion Office in the Imperial City, and later moved to an orphanage for the un-adoptable. Because of her tiny size and odd appearance, they labeled her “Unknown albino beast,” guessed her age to be 2 years old. Maxical spoke little Cyrodiilic, and because they couldn’t understand her name (Ma'Thjizzrini Qa) they listed her name as “Maxical.”

4 years later Alix Lencolia and S’Jirra applied to adopt her. Before the paperwork went through, Fathis Aren came to the orphanage to chose a student for a scholarship at the Arcane. Maxical was chosen.

Before the adoption was finalized Dagoth-Malan came to the orphanage to kidnap young girls to “farm” and discovered the soul of Amiela was hidden inside Maxical.

Because of Maxical’s pending adoption and the scholarship, people would notice if she disappeared. Malan instead planted a post-hypnotic command to come to him when she turned 20 (not knowing her age was wrong).

The adoption was approved. 5 years later Maxical started her scholarship at the Arcane. After nearly destroying it they pushed her out the door almost 6 years later. Due to the extraordinary damages she caused at the Arcane that Fathis Aren paid, (and out of schoolgirl crush/love for him) Maxical vowed her virginity to Fathis (but he never came for it). Oh, that didn’t sound good, lol.



Everyone thought she was 17 years old, but Maxical actually turned 20 that year. She joined the Arena and married Gils (the Blue Team Gladiator) in a country ceremony. Because there were no witnesses it was not considered legal, but despite this Gils taught her the sacred Dunmer mysteries (breaking Dunmer law). Since her virginity was promised to Fathis, she remained a virgin.



The day before war broke out Fathis married Maxical, invalidating her marriage to Gils. Then Fathis left her at the altar (and untouched). She had nowhere to go but back to Gils. They almost mated, but before the act could be completed Azura sealed Maxical to Gils, binding her to him for life.

Azura placed the binding seal on Maxical’s tongue. (Azura’s seal = moonsugar when her mate is present, an excruciating burning in his absence. Only an ancient vampire’s presence or the drinking of vampire juices interferes with the seal and stops the pain).

Dagoth-Malan started an uprising and the vampire war broke out the next day. Fathis was thought to be dead. (Malan has Fathis in his dungeon, Fathis is a vampire now). Gils did die, but not before Malan took his soul.

Malan erased Maxical‘s memory of Gils’ death, told her Gils abandoned her and defected with Captain Renault (who Malan actually killed).

After manipulating Maxical to a mentally weak state, Dagoth-Malan performed necromancy on Maxical to raise Amiela’s soul inside her - planned for Amiela to take over Maxical’s body permanently. Through willpower Maxical was able to fight off Amiela from taking her body.

Malan impersonated Janus Hassildor (using illusion magic), kidnapped Maxical and used her virgin blood against Fathis to swear his soul over to Malan. Malan took his soul, Fathis is now a thrall. Malan then took Maxical’s virginity.

Malan pretended to be a Dunmer Arbiter and held the power of that office over Maxical for her illegal marriage to Gils and illegal knowledge of the sacred Dunmer mysteries (to control her).

Malan also put his nature inside Maxical, pretending to make her his chosen. (also to control her) - continuing to try to get Amiela to take over Maxical‘s body.

With the help of Malan's nature, Maxical threatened to eliminate Amiela permanently. Scared of losing Amiela, Malan performed necromancy on Maxical while she slept and removed Amiela's soul permanently from her.

Maxical learned that her extraordinary Blade skills belonged to Amiela, not herself. She lost that ability with the soul. Maxical was left not knowing what parts of her personality had ever been her own (and which had been Amiela all along).

Since then Maxical has been alternately trying to kill Malan or hiding from him. Right now she is hiding from him.


*

YAY MAXICAL!!!

She looks very cheerful

I don't know why I pictured Kayla looking like Nerussa from Weye in Oblivion, (but with red hair). Huh!

WELL, it IS Kayla, lol

Her pissed look doesn't compare to Vokun's though

I am realizing how Kayla looks like a sister to your profile pic. Same coloring, similar expression. Good job with that!

Sorry, but I'm doing machine upgrades right now, so Skyrim and Oblivion are now located only on my Steam account.

Name: Angus MacThurrin, Ysmir Strundu'ul, Dovahsebrom

Race: Breton (half-breed, Breton mother, Nord father)

Gender: Male

Age: 25

Sign: Atronach (Skyrim, assume born during Sun's Dusk for story elements)

Home Country: Born in Cyrodiil, raised in Solitude, then Northpoint.

Faction and Rank or Guilds: Member Ex-Officio of the College of Winterhold. Member-Emeritus of the Companions. Rose through the ranks during respective crises, resigned positions with the selection of proper, more suited candidates. Associated with the Dawnguard. Student of the Masters of the Voice, the Greybeards of High Hrothgar.

Faction Description: Trained and served with distinction as both a mage and soldier-for-hire. Combined the training for good use when learning to hunt and kill vampires. Regularly and frequently spends time hunting down monsters and criminals for the Companions, finding and neutralizing magical anomalies created due to events involving the Collegium, as well as participating in regular extermination missions for the Dawnguard. These are side-jobs. Primary effort has been spent maintaining peace in Skyrim, suppressing the Civil War, and above all else, hunting down and eliminating Thalmor operatives in the province of Skyrim.

Class: Battle Mage

Class Description: Heavily armored, shielded, and armed, capable of using melee combat skills as well as proximity- and distance-based arcane attack. Favors extensive defensive load-out with a mentality of "Your rage is your own undoing."

Skills and talents: Heavy armor, One handed (sword), Block and Smithing in the Martial field. Alteration, Restoration, Destruction and Enchanting in the Arcane field. Trained in other skills, favors mix-and-match talents (perks that do not require matching set pieces) for the anticipated situation. Relies heavily on blocking, wards, sword-work, and killer lightning spells.

Physical Appearance: Big, broad, and agile. He's over six feet and weighs close to 250 lbs. Scarring from foolish/reckless behavior has been kept to a fortunate minimum. Heritage from both sides of his family shows: he has grey eyes resembling clouds and dark blond hair accurately described as 'strawberry blond'. Swinging a shield and sword has given him seemingly oversized shoulders and upper back, but he's not going to win a competition for having the prettiest body. Maybe if the judges liked a man with a short, full beard and body hair to match.

Eyes: Storm grey. It's easier to see the blue under sunlight or white light, but torches and arcane lamps tend to wash the color and leave his irises looking like "a dense as wool fog."

Build: Fighter. Thicker than a sprinter, thinner and more streamlined than a backwoods wrestler.

Weapons of preference: Custom enchanted longsword (fire and shock damage) and mace (shock and soul trap). Carries a couple of daggers as well, for those times when dealing with an opposing battlemage that knows what he's doing. Carries Auriel's Bow, but uses archery less emphatically than others.

Clothing: Armor. Custom enchanted Daedric plate with school-reduction and magicka regeneration-boosting enchantments. Will wear Dragon armor (plate or scale) for situation dependent occasions. Uses Spellbreaker, exhaustively so. Wears appropriate silk and cloth padding under armor (silk is good for reducing the risks posed by the occasional arrow that hits him), and has wool and leather garments for any necessary public functions (hidden chain backing a must).

Miscellaneous: Fully realized Dragonborn. Thu'um Master.

Magic abilities or powers: Master of Alteration, Restoartion, and Destruction. Able to absorb bloody near any arcane attack thrown at him, not bothered by the arrows he can block with his shield. Likes to take it and throw it back, usually in the form of Lightning Storm, cast long, cast hard, and cast often. Uses appropriate Shouts in combat, preferring Slow Time to out hack and slash anything with a weapon, Storm Call for opposing mages, and Become Ethereal just to taunt archers whilst closing on them. If busy or pre-occupied, just whistles up Odahviing or Durnehviir to deal with the issue.

Mental Profile/Personality: Centered. Between the raw emotion of passion and the resolute determination of duty, there lies the serenity of purpose. Between the madness of dominating control and burden of submissive acceptance, there lies the tranquility of inevitable victory. The indecisive individual cannot decide on the action to accomplish anything. The overbearing tyrant finds control slipping through his fingers the more he clenches his fists. The unyielding martyr loses sight of the deeper reason to act. The carefree pixie sees no change of anything for the better.

The wise masters not the world, but himself. In doing so, he turns the world's pressures back against themselves, and breaks the bonds that would tether him. The wise asks himself "Why?", and knows his purpose is examined, and worthwhile.

Biography/Life History: Angus was born Sun's Dusk 08, 4E 175. It was nine months and a day after the signing of the White Gold Concordant, and Angus's father took his family from Bruma County north to the family's farm in Solitude. Still, things were difficult for Thurrin Frost-Roar, and so he agreed to take his wife and young son to Northpoint, where his wife had been raised and where a dissatisfied former soldier could find work. Things went well there. But Thurrin remembered killing Aldmeri elves on the Red Ring. And Thurrin taught his son the lessons any Son of Skyrim should know. And Thurrin reminded Angus, that the Concordant was not the ending of the Great War, but the first thrust of the dagger of the next conflict. Thurrin taught his son caution and care. But all the caution in Tamriel cannot slow the passage of time. All the care in Tamriel cannot prevent an old soldier from losing his hearing. And all the dooms and fates of Tamriel must be accounted and reckoned.

So when a troll gets too close to a fifty year old man in the forests of Northpoint, a man with a slow ankle and an old hip injury, Sovngarde cannot be held at bay.

Angus buried his father. His mother was in tears, but Angus could not stay. Bretons lived longer than Nords, everybody knew that. Even at fifty, his mother was technically just shy of middle age. And so, when Meghain took her sister's advice and began going to services at the Temple of Dibella, Angus packed his possessions, and journeyed to the land of his birth.

Cyrodiil was not what he expected. His father told him of the destruction wrought during the war. But his father also told him of the resilience of the Imperial province. The industry of its inhabitants. It was lacking when Angus arrived.

So Angus realized it wasn't Cyrodiil where he was supposed to make himself. His father's homeland beckoned. Another Son of Skyrim had to go home.

Fate, it seems, enjoys the irony that threads coincidence. Helgen was a terrible place to receive a welcome. Dragons were worse.

There was one part that puzzled Angus when he escaped Helgen with a Stormcloak rebel. That dragon, it was...speaking. He didn't understand it, but the noises were patterned, and there was something behind it.

Learning that he could use Thu'um was frightening. Being enveloped by flaming energy at the death of a dragon was terrifying. Hearing the world shake, and finding out that it was the Greybeards of High Hrothgar that wanted to speak to him, was an inconceivable horror.

To learn that he was Dovahkiin? Dragon, made flesh in human form, rather than wyrm? Discovering his grasp of the Thu'um made it easier. Finding battle kin in the Companions and learning not to fear, but to wonder at the unknown with the College of Winterhold made him realize what it was he fought to preserve. The Thieves had no use of him. His machinations against their crime lords would eventually come to fruition. His dealings with the Dark Brotherhood, less so.

It started simply enough. Rumors of a child trying to perform the Black Sacrament. A visit in good faith to try to sort him out. Learning of a great injustice being perpetrated by a truly horrendous monster. An attempt to show the misguided child a different way. A better way. Why did the old woman insist on getting violent? Angus did not even draw steel. She kept trying to hit him. He pushed her away. She tripped. She fell. She did not rise. The orphans jumped for joy. Had she really been that terrible a person?

The guards listened. The Jarl judged. "Justified force during investigation by a ranking member of the Companions." Charges not even recorded. And a letter, with a note, and a hand print. "We Know."

They found him. They brought him somewhere, and told him nobody left until somebody died. Three victims, waiting for one to be chosen. One assassin, sitting on a piece of furniture. Nobody left until somebody died. No bargaining. No threatening, at least none that Astrid would take. Kill or be killed. Nobody leaves until somebody dies. Who? It was Angus's choice. Right, Left, middle, what did it matter? Nobody leaves until somebody dies. Who to choose? Who to kill? Somebody dies. Anybody? Anybody in the room? Astrid!

She should not have underestimated a Dragonborn. She was slow. Oh, she was fast, for a mortal. She was not Dov. She was not of the nature of Akatosh. Time was not a plaything for her. Angus had no such limitations. And after her, her "family." It was a bloody night. But it wasn't enough.

Alduin was fought. First winning, then retreating, then finally losing. Sovngarde made him see the reward that waited, if he proved continually worthy. Allies, fellow Dov, were found, for aid in battle and instruction in Thu'um.

Angus returned triumphant. Meanwhile, Tamriel mourned, as an emperor had died. The Dark Brotherhood couldn't follow a man to a warrior's paradise. They chose the next best thing.

The Civil War had been halted. It threatened to flare up again. Nobody claimed the Jagged Crown. Nobody could. Angus had agreed to retrieve it, but realized that Ulfric could not have it. Nor could Elisif. He left it at High Hrothgar. The Greybeards understood. It was appropriate. The Blades couldn't be trusted. They had forgotten humility in his presence. It was a lesson badly needed. But he was not the one to teach it to them. Insubordination could not be turned to open hostility. They were left alone, and kept alone, that events would pass them by. Without a Dragonborn, and without a welcoming Empire, they would be forced to change themselves. Or die.

A vampire tried to blot out Magnus, spelling the end of life. He was stopped, killed by the very weapon he thought would deliver him a final victory. It wasn't a victory for him.

A predecessor, tyrant, monster, one that had lost control over himself tried to come back. He too, was killed. Betrayal begat betrayal. No tears were shed.

Skuldafn was revisited. Inhabited. Fortified. None but a Dovah could find it. Other Dov heard Angus's Thu'um. Some challenged. Most were beaten and gave in. Some would not give in. They were consumed. A few chose to master themselves, as the ancient brother of their race on the Throat of the World had done. The old wyrm gained a few more disciples. Most agreed to serve the strongest among themselves. That it was a man was not at issue.

Conflicts were stopped. Battles prevented. Parties of Thalmor Justicars and their ilk were hunted down and slaughtered, their grisly remains a testament that could not be traced to the man that left them. Behind the scenes, several Jarls rose or fell (and one was deposed in one city only to be placed in charge of another). A friend who had served well was evaluated. From Skuldafn, Angus looked out over all of Skyrim. He would place the Jagged Crown on the head of the man most worthy of wearing it, and dare any to oppose him. Ulfric and Elisif would be surprised when they realized they were each alone. It was a start.

From the Throat of the World, Angus looked over all of Tamriel. He meditated. He knew what would come next. His mother's homeland would follow Skyrim's lead. Two provinces, and with them, two thirds of the Elder Council. Angus looked south. He would be tried. They would fall. He could raise armies. So could they. He had an air force of dragons. They did not. The Thalmor would lose.

He breathed, and looked south. His seat was there, waiting. Waiting for him to come. Waiting for him to take it. The Ruby Throne. The Seat of Sundered Kings.

For the first time since the Septim Dynasty, a Dragonborn Emperor of Tamriel would reign.

What to do during the interim. Talos worship was illegal, but people would not respect that. They wanted their gods. But how does one suppress the worship of a deity so much like yourself without drawing backlash? He didn't want to join the Church of the Nine Divines, or the Church of the Eight Divines. It was, in a sense, a feeling of inevitability. He would take the Ruby Throne. And then, when he died, it would not be the Church of the Nine that he joined.

He would join the Pantheon.

Introducing my new character, an Argonian nicknamed Red Archer, doing what he knows the best.

Killing
The
Torturer

The other stuff about him can be read in Fan Fic.

Nice screens!

And Red Archer looks cool!

Holy...I never realized that...

That terrifying WTH moment when you realize you look like your video game character

I would make a hot Altmer.

Make me feel short by being very tall, why don't you

Thanks!

WHOA! That's so bad ass'd!



Yes, this is very true. I just looked at Kayla and (you?) again. Not exactly twins, but ya'll look related or something. Or maybe you have both been to the same salon.

You all know I can never resist threads like this...
Here she is in Skyrim.
Here she is in Cyrodiil.
--
Briefly, and generally...
...She's a Bosmer, from Valenwood but brought up in Skyrim, before moving away in her late teens; she's now 30.
Since then she's journeyed all over, never staying anywhere for too long.
She's been a thief, an assassin, a burglar. If a town has an underbelly she's seen it.
She has enough emotional baggage to fill several houses and she's been the ruin of, and been ruined by, more than one partner.
She has a thing about Khajiits and Women, not necessarily in that order and not necessarily separately either.
She has a burgeoning addiction to Skooma and beer, she's unreliable and untrustworthy, arrogant, selfish, impetuous and fey - and those are just her good points.
She hates and loves herself in equal measure. Outwardly she pretends not to care though but inwardly, increasingly, she's come to realise what she is but the path she's on seems to have no turnings...
--
In Cyrodiil?
the only province where she even vaguely feels "at home", she rents a shack in Bravil, and another on the waterfront of the Imperial City - they are a mess.
She used to have some fine houses, but that seems a very long time ago; things were different then...
...curiously she's become quite religious, when it suits her.
--
In Skyrim?
Well... twice now she has been wrenched from Cyrodiil and thrust back into Skyrim, into a body and mind that is both her and not her. Leagues and leagues, and years - (though this she does not realise), away from her home and what she knows.
Niamh as she exists in Skyrim is a feral, wild creature, a Wild Elf in it's truest meaning. Random, Murderous, Hating and Hateful. Unable to leave, and unwilling to stay, she's all the bad bits of her incarnation in Cyrodiil but with the volume turned Way Up.
All she can do is fight to survive and hope to return or be returned, but live with the fear that she could be stuck in Skyrim for the rest of her life. Which could be a very long time indeed, or very very brief.
Weapons and a little jewellery are her only possessions and all that she wears, that and the dirt and filth and grease of her environment. Possessed of an ill temper and a woeful lack of personal hygiene, she's not exactly pleasant to be around - (although that's not to say that she doesn't have her moments, even she gets lonely sometimes...)
--
Other stuff?
She eats only fish, fruit, and vegetables; and surprisingly has a very soft spot for small animals, of whom she is very protective indeed.

I took the picture of myself when I was about 17 or 18, and hadn't even LOOKED at it for a year before making Kayla. I think most of my characters look similar... Yeesh. Here I was trying to be different and just make a non-scowly character lol

LOl "non scowly" I know what you mean!

Phon, your portfolio there cracked me up. All this heavy [censored] bout Niamh and then it ends with this...

Seriously, that is all true.

Oh I believe it.

One of my latest characters in Skyrim is also Tamala.

Full name: Tamala Christophe

Race: Redguard

Imaginary class: Thief

Screenshot

Short backstory:

Tamala Christophe is a 29-year-old thief from the Imperial City. She hails from notorious Christophe family, whose members were always associated with the Thieves Guild. One of the most prominent members of her family was Armand Christophe who was 200 years ago one of a chosen doyens of the legendary Gray Fox!

Tamala's mother was a psychic but died because of the disease when Tamala was but a child and thus she was raised by her mother's brother - uncle Royer. Royer taught Tamala in the arts of stealth and they were traveling across Cyrodiil and made a living as the thieves.

After Royer became ill in 4€ 200, they returned to the capital and Tamala took care of him. On his deathbed he begged Tamala to leave Cyrodiil because Thalmor and Imperial soldiers were at a war with the Thieves Guild and many high-ranking members were already exposed and executed. He wanted her to leave the country and find her fortune in another Thieves Guild of which he knew - the one in Skyrim.

Royer also revealed her an old secret... apparently her mother who was a psychic, foresaw Tamala's destiny to be fulfilled in Skyrim. He didn't know anything else about it but he begged Tamala to follow her mother's vision and travel north to unveil her destiny.

Tamala promised uncle Royer to head north but she was convinced that he made the whole story about her mother's vision up because he wanted her to start a new life somewhere far away from the Imperial City. After he passed away, Tamala Christope headed for Skyrim and was caught by Imperial soldiers as she was illegally trying to cross the border.

--------------------------------------------

Her backstory is a bit longer than that, but I guess that's enough for an introduction.

Ever since Tamala Christophe died in a fight with a Sabre Cat, I'm rolling with a new character.

Race: Breton

Real name: unknown to anyone, except to him and his distant family

Nickname: Corcaigh

Age: 42

Home town & country: Daggerfall, High Rock

Class: Freelance mercenary (that's how he calls himself)

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Dragonborn: Yes! (he doesn't know it yet)

Primary skills: Archery, Light Armor, One Handed and Conjuration to minor extent

Primary weapons: Bow, sword, dagger

Physical appearance: Picture 1 & Picture 2 are worth more than words.

Personality / Habits : carefree, unconcerned about the future, unpredictable, somewhat selfish, owes no allegiance to anyone, drifts from place to place, likes lasses, strong beverages, meat (baked or raw) and making a fool out of patriots... Corcaigh's not evil but not even particularly good, he follows his own moral compass and is prone to changing sides. For instance, he may ally himself with The Legion as long as there's a benefit in it but he may betray them in the next second if he has a good enough reason. Another example is that he mocks The Nine Divines but uses altars nonethless when in a need of healing.

Short backstory: Corcaigh was born in a noble family from Daggerfall but since he didn't see himself spending his entire life among the haughty nobility of High Rock, he left at a young age and made a living as a mercenary. He travelled across High Rock, Hammerfell and Cyrodiil before arriving to Skyrim which he decided to travel to upon hearing the news of the civil war. Corcaigh knows that mercenaries are sought in these times and he's prepared to offer his services to the highest bidder. It is suspected that he fathered a few children across Tamriel, probably with tavern wenches.

This is how I pictured Corcaigh, in your screenshots. Those pics are pretty much how I've been visualizing him.

I have a new character idea brewing up, and this will finally be a Dragonborn. Yeah...'cause now that I've had a taste of the Main Quest & Civil War (and Uber Kness is gone) I want more of these quest lines.

Lopov, farewell to Tamala.

But a hearty welcome to the roguish Corcaigh!

Really? Nice, that makes me happy.


Her premature death was caused by her lack of combat skills because she was focused only on Stealth. And also because of too slow fingers of her creator who was too late to give her a healing potion. I'm sure Corcaigh will last longer.

Character Sheet(doesn't have to be the exact same as below):

Name: Silas Le Muir

Race: Breton

Gender: Male

Age: Mid-to-late Thirties

Sign: The Thief

Home Country: Cyrodiil

Faction and Rank or Guilds: Thieves' Guild, Blackcap.

Faction Description: Organized Crime.

Class: Nightblade technically, thinks of himself more as a Thief.

Class Description: From the UESP:

Nightblades are spellcasters who use their magics to enhance mobility, concealment, and stealthy close combat. They have a sinister reputation, since many nightblades are thieves, enforcers, assassins, or covert agents.

Skills and talents:

Major Skills:
Mysticism
Illusion
Alteration
Sneak
Short Blade

Minor Skills:
Light Armor
Unarmored
Destruction
Marksman
Security

Physical Appearance: Shoulder-length black hair, stubble, taciturn expression.

Eyes:Blue

Build: Slight.

Weapons of preference: Knives. Thrown or wielded.

Clothing: Common, doesn't make it a habit to stand out.

Magic abilities or powers:Many. Uses Colleges of Illusion, Mysticism, and Alteration to cast spells to benefit his circumstances. Knows a few destruction spells to round out ranged attacks. Born under sign of Thief that grants him above-average thieving skills as well.

Mental Profile/Personality: Everything is a game. The law is only enforceable at sword-point, and freedom can be bought as well as earned. The thrill of the steal can be worth more than the haul. If it can be taken, it probably should be. Live with no fear, or live like you were already dead.

Biography/Life History:Generally unknown. His name may not even be Silas Le Muir. He is the best damn thief in Cyrodiil, and likely many surrounding provinces. Even if he's the only one making the claim.

Name: Master Baytor

Status: Active

Race: High Elf

Gender: Male

Age: Young Adult (I forget how to calculate Elven ages, and seem to have lost the D&D book that calculates this sort of stuff.

Sign: Mage / Scorpio

Home: None, as of yet.

Spouse: none

Home Country: Summerset Isle

Faction and Rank or Guilds(if none, tell us what they do for a living): Thalmor Agent

Faction Description: Master Baytor is an employee for the Thalmor who shall be cross-managing his time directly with the Imperial Legions.

Class: Spellsword

Class Description: MB prefers dual-wielding swords (or a sword/dagger combination) and is also proficient with many types of magic. So far, I don't see him eschewing very many magical spells.

Alignment: Lawful Evil

Dragonborn? Yes.

Skills and talents: Sword & knife-play, Conjuration, Necromancy, Destruction, some Illusion, some Alteration. Although he will use Restoration, I won't put a lot of perks into this area. Tabletop skills include: Literacy, Charisma (Speechcraft), Courtly Graces (the ability to kiss some royal ass, RP-wise), and Scholar (this includes the ability for me to 'cheat' with UESP and Wiki sites; I like to think that he already knows a lot things, especially about government, history, and certain people, that I don't know).

Physical Appearance: Here ya go.

Eyes: Green

Build: Slender

Weapons of preference: Swords

Clothing: Light armor, robes, and clothing.

Miscellaneous: Master Baytor took part in the invasion of the Imperial City during the Great War. After the White Gold Concordat was signed, he dwelt here for several years, becoming accustomed to an easy way of life near the top. His title ("Master") has something to do with his position in life, although at this writing I'm not sure what this might be. MB moved to Skyrim once the Civil War started up north, hoping to aid the Empire, but due to a mix-up he wound up getting captured, and then branded as a traitor. When the events at Helgen took place, Master Baytor followed XXXX to Riverwood, and decided that despite the previous events, he will still support the Empire whole-heartedly.

Master Baytor prefers the finer things in life, and abhors stupidity, poverty, and 'lesser' people.

..more to come...

I am still rolling over his name!

GAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Priceless. Haha. I had a kick out of this one

Awesome, I'm glad you see the humor behind it all. Sometimes I get on the fence whether or not I should share stuff, whether I've gone too far or something.

I did not intend to make my new Altmer a "goldenrod", but check him out. He certainly lives up to the Cyodillic racial slur: gold hair, and gold skin.

Name: Syris <--- click

Race: Redguard

Gender: Male

Age: 44

Sign: The Lord

Home Country: Hammerfell

Faction and Rank or Guilds: none yet

Class: Battlemage (custom)

Class Description: Able to resolve most conflicts with either spell or sword. They are a deadly mix of scholar and soldier.

Weapons of preference: Axe and only axe.

Clothing: Heavy armor, combined with cloaks / capes / hoods.

Skills: Magical (Alteration, Conjuration, Destruction) Combat (Block, Heavy Armor, One-Handed)

Intelligence: highly intelligent

Physical Appearance: Muscular & bald.

Voice: deep

Way of talking: slow and deliberate

Dragonborn: Yes.

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Biography / Life History: not much about his youth is known, he became famous in the war between the Aldmeri Dominion and Hammerfell, his deadly spells and bloody axe slaughtered a lot of Thalmor. After the war he became a wanderer, traveling all across Tamriel, saving several people from their demise while enforcing his own law upon them, violently dealing with anyone that dared to oppose him. Occasionally he served as an advisor to certain nobles and other figures of importance. Syris is often seen as a controversial figure, on one hand efficient and highly sought, on the other hand brutal and fearsome, he places his own welfare above anything else and follows his own moral compass.

Reasons for coming to Skyrim: being an avid scholar, Syris' intention was to travel to the fabulous College of Winterhold, to learn new magical knowledge. Unfortunately, he was captured by the Imperial soldiers and barely escaped an execution in Helgen.

Future plans: vengeful and resentful, Syris' primary goal is to enact his revenge upon Tullius. He won't stop until he'll make the Imperial Commander bleed to death. He's thinking about joining the Stormcloaks, not to help the Nords, but merely to ruin Tullius' plans and punish him. Once he finds about his Dragonborn abilites, his story may take another turn.

I hope my Mister Master Baytor never crosses path with your Thalmor-killing Redguard, sir!