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Hey everyone! it has been a while but I decided to completely restructure and rewrite her story, for the most part now this pretty much finished so its no longer WIP, there are likely chances I will add more things to it. I am hoping to also finish writing the of her family's story soon not sure when I will get time for it be we will see I guess. Shyvana Penelopy Angel Backstory The events of the Great War showered Tamriel with hardships and turmoil. Towards the end of the conflict, Shyvana’s mother, a Breton named Julienne, resided just south of Windhelm in Kynesgrove. A master of the arcane arts, Julienne spent her days farming and knitting luxury silks for trade; on other days, she traveled to the College of Winterhold to teach adept-level magic to the young and aspiring. The College attracted many different people from across the continent. It was on a particularly slow day in the Arcanaeum that Julienne encountered a Nord named Nikulas. Currently a blacksmith in Windhelm, Nikulas had come to the library to study the intricacies of enchanting to better his craft. Confused by the complex archives, he caught the eye of Julienne, who noticed him during her own research. They quickly discovered shared passions, and a spark grew between them. Three years later, they were married. By 4E 182, the aftermath of the Great War had left Eastmarch a shadow of its former self. Coin was scarce, and Julienne was four months pregnant. Fearing the rising instability in Skyrim, the couple agreed they had to flee. They journeyed east to Morrowind, eventually reaching the city of Blacklight. They settled in a small, unnamed town near the border of the Vvardenfell region, as travel to the island itself was heavily restricted. However, the couple’s relationship fractured under the stress of their exile. When a brief window of passage to Vvardenfell opened, Nikulas, driven by restlessness, insisted on going. Julienne, eight months into her pregnancy, chose to stay behind in the town they had begun to call home. Nikulas left anyway, promising to return. Shortly after his sudden departure, Shyvana was born into a world of silence, suffering from partial to near-total deafness from birth. Her mother struggled to navigate this affliction in a time when such things were misunderstood, making basic communication between them incredibly difficult. Despite the silence, Shyvana was deeply loved by Julienne and grew into a quiet, kind-hearted child. Unfortunately, the common folk of the village were not so forgiving; they ridiculed Shyvana’s "strange behavior" and ostracized her. Her father offered no protection. When he did visit, he had grown irritable and cold, remarking that the girl "did not behave like a normal little girl should." Absent for the majority of her life, his rare visits were filled with belittlement and indifference toward the daughter he deemed flawed. While in Vvardenfell, Nikulas eventually met a mixed-blood Bosmer and Dunmer woman named Varona, who provided him with the comfort he felt he lacked at home. They had a child, Kyra, together, and Nikulas eventually returned to tell Julienne he was leaving her permanently. Julienne, acting as a single mother, did her best to secure a future for her child, but that hope was extinguished swiftly. When Shyvana was just five years old, their small town was raided by bandits in the dead of night. In the chaos, both of Shyvana’s parents were killed. Shyvana was the sole survivor; everyone else was either put to the sword or perished in the flames. She managed to escape the slaughter, scrambling up a nearby hill that overlooked the valley. Through the heavy rain, she sat in the mud, knees pulled to her chest, weeping as she watched her once-peaceful village burn to ash. Lost and hopeless, the traumatized and mute little girl found her way to the city of Blacklight the following day. She was a ghost to the citizens; no one batted an eye, rendered invisible by their apathy. With nothing left for her in Morrowind, she took to the road, walking alone for miles on end until she crossed the border into Skyrim. She eventually collapsed in the village of Ivarstead, where a married woman finally noticed the destitute child and took her in. Upon discovering the horrors Shyvana had endured, the woman and her husband adopted her. However, the trauma had taken deep root. By age ten, her foster parents grew concerned as Shyvana began to disappear for long periods. When asked where she went, she would not communicate. These disappearances grew more frequent until, at age fourteen, she abruptly left her foster home for good. For the next five years, she lived as a "Ghost of Skyrim," surviving on her own in the wilderness, her life consumed by severe depression and crushing loneliness. She spoke to no one, left alone with her thoughts and the many voices that followed. It was only after a brutal attack left her near death that she was found by a man named Thaiden. Although he took her in, Shyvana fell deeper into despair, attempting to take her own life multiple times under the belief she had nothing left to live for. Thaiden’s vigilance kept her alive during her darkest hours, but in her desperation, she sought a darker way to cope. Not long after, Shyvana contracted Sanguinare Vampiris from the unfortunate attack that had nearly claimed her life. Yet, the standard curse was not enough to numb her crushing despair. Driven by a suicidal recklessness and a desperate need to feel powerful enough to never be victimized again, she sought out a reclusive vampire mage in Morrowind. She did not just ask to learn magic; she demanded to undergo a "Dark Possession", a forbidden ritual meant to flood her soul with the raw, chaotic energy of Oblivion itself. The mage warned her that a mortal frame was never meant to hold pure Daedric essence; it would either incinerate her or twist her into something unrecognizable. Consumed by her grief, Shyvana no longer cared if she survived. The ritual was an agonizing breaking point. As the dark, Apocryphal magic of Hermaeus Mora fused with her vampiric blood, her body violently mutated to contain the overwhelming power. The cost of her survival was her humanity. She was reborn not just as a vampire, but as something akin to a demon. Prominent, dark horns tore through her scalp, and her eyes ignited with a demonic, glowing orange fire that shifted with her volatile emotions. She had sought a shield against her trauma, but the Daedric taint permanently ravaged her physical form, leaving her to wake up as the very monster the people around her had always accused her of being. Her mental state, already fragile, shattered into severe instability. She suffered from extreme mood swings and "bad episodes" that became increasingly frequent. With Thaiden’s patient help, she managed to control some of the volatility. However, the dark powers she now possessed, mist walking, blood magic, and Daedric sorcery linked to the Tide King himself, Hermaeus Mora, took a heavy toll. She became capable of telekinesis, teleportation, and mind control, but using these arts drained the very life force that sustained her undead state. Thaiden feared she would one day kill herself through the exertion and warned her to use them only in dire self-defense. Compounding her struggle, Shyvana suffered from severe paranoid schizophrenia, a condition present since childhood alongside her deafness. Her mind was split into multiple personalities, and she had horrific episodes where the voices in her head loudly commanded her to commit terrible acts; at one point, she nearly severed her own hand to appease them. Thaiden, with his patient and loving heart, was the only one to know all of her different personalities. To him, she was often a cute, innocent, slightly timid, and humble girl, which he believed was her true self but her other personas were far more unstable and erratic. As time went on, the constant voices quieted, replaced by intense, sporadic episodes triggered by memory or emotion. In addition to these unpredictable attacks, Shyvana suffered from severe nightmares that tormented her rest, blurring the lines between her sleeping terrors and waking reality. During these times, Thaiden was helpless, forced to watch in horror as Shyvana wept in fear. There were episodes where the madness took complete hold, driving her to run off to hunt and kill indiscriminately. Desperate to protect innocent bystanders from her unbelievable, chaotic power, Thaiden found a grim but necessary solution. He guided her toward the Dark Brotherhood, channeling her violent fugue states into sanctioned assassinations. By giving her monstrous urges a specific target, he was able to somewhat ease the destructive fallout of her episodes, though he still had to stick to her like glue, never leaving her sight until he could trust her reality had stabilized. However, this dark arrangement could not last. Thaiden soon realized that while the Brotherhood directed her power away from the innocent, the constant bloodshed was only feeding the Daedric taint within her, validating the very voices she was trying to fight. The final breaking point came when the brutal reality of her assassinations began to mirror the same senseless violence that had orphaned her in Kynesgrove. Refusing to let his wife become a willing pawn for the Night Mother or lose the fragile remnants of her humanity, Thaiden pulled her away from the guild entirely. They severed ties, rendering her a retired assassin, and chose instead to seek a life of quiet isolation where they could focus on truly healing her fractured mind, a decision that would ultimately lead them to the peaceful salvation of starting a family. Even from childhood, Shyvana was described as having "unusual behavior," a trait that still shows itself today. Thaiden describes his wife’s behavior as "curiosity," but it is largely the result of Shyvana having a very active and wandering mind. This is typically viewed by others as her being hyper or constantly needing to keep her hands active, hence her likeness to sculpting. She also does indeed wander off quite a lot, which Thaiden describes as her "being in her own little world." Like her half-sister, Shyvana shares a timidity toward even the smallest, most mundane things, which is why, despite her mortal age, she often acts with childlike innocence. When it comes to her appearance, Shyvana possesses a striking, otherworldly allure, often viewed by those who cross her path as "unnaturally beautiful." Her prominent horns and demonic vampiric traits create a terrifying elegance that evokes both fear and awe. Yet, Shyvana is painfully self-aware of her corruption. She often avoids mirrors, her fragile mind twisting her reflection into a hideous monster that she believes deserves the isolation of her youth. She frequently tries to hide her horns beneath heavy hoods, while the fierce tribal paint she wears over her left eye is not for decoration, but a desperate shield to conceal an old, jagged scar that she despises. Thaiden, however, refuses to let her hide. Whenever she shrinks away or curses her own reflection, he gently pulls her hands from her face. He traces the tribal paint and the dark marks of her vampiric form, not with fear, but with unwavering devotion. Crucially, his thumb softly brushes the area over her left eye, tracing the texture of the old scar hidden beneath the dark pigments, treating it as something precious rather than flawed. To Thaiden, her horns and glowing eyes are not signs of a monster, but the scars of a survivor. He constantly reminds her that beneath the intimidating exterior remains the quiet, gentle girl he fell in love with reassuring her that to him, she will always be beautiful. Later in their marriage and amidst these strange mishaps, Shyvana and Thaiden decided they wanted a child together. In the deep lore of Tamriel, female vampires are traditionally unable to bear children because their bodies are locked in a state of undeath. However, there were softer and more natural ways for Shyvana to bear a child without resorting to the maddening rituals of Daedric magic. It required a profound mix of deep Restoration magic, master-level alchemy, and the unique nature of the vampiric curse itself. Through this delicate balance, Shyvana was able to conceive. When Shyvana became pregnant with their daughter, Carina, it was as if the sickness in her mind vanished, her overall behavior changed completely. Thaiden had never seen her so happy; her restless nights halted, and the sporadic episodes of voices seemed to recede. When Evelette was born, Shyvana became obsessively attached, spending every waking moment with the child, often neglecting her own care in the process. For the first time, Thaiden saw a spark of pure love in her that she often forgot she possessed. Despite all of her profound hardships and handicaps, and the demons she physically and mentally battles, Shyvana has still been able to endure. Nicknames: Shy, Shyv, Penny Aliases: Cursed Beauty, Death Flower, Evil Queen, Demon Lady Race: Nord Demonic Vampire Nationality: Nordic/Breton Gender: Female Date Of Birth: 4E 183 Relationship Status: Married to Thaiden B. Occupation: Retired Assassin (Currently mother of two) Relatives: Kyra Angel (Half-sister), Julienne Angel (Mother) [Deceased], Nikulas Angel (Father) [Deceased] Family: Daughters - Carina Angel and Anya Angel, Husband - Thaiden B. Birthplace: Morrowind, Small Town Near Blacklight. Eye Color: Blue before Vampirism, Demon-like Orange after. Hair Color: Brunette before Vampirism, Steel Black with heavy strands of Red after. Age: 22 Immortal Age: 28 Height: 5'9″ (1.7 m) Weight: 172 lbs (78 kg) Body Type: Curvy, smooth. Identifying Marks: Tribal paint on left eye covering scar. Notably a lot of body paint, red glowing eyes. Scent: Berries Personality: Introvert, Humble, Gullible, very uneasy, Emotional, often times bipolar, has multiple personalities, that she cant control. Her real personality is quiet, easily emotional, calm and timid. Likes: Nature, animals, kids. Dislikes: Guards, Bandits, Dawngaurd’s, Elves', Imperials and Bretons. Hobbies: Sculpting, reading. Magic Class: Vampiric Dark Sorcerer Magic and Weapon Specialties: Certain types of Daedric Magic, teleportation, telekinesis, Lightning and shock magic, Necromancy, vampiric magic, Apocrypha Magic Overall Specialties: Deceiving, quick and slippery, Overall Weaknesses: Sunlight, partially to fully deaf,

Meet the Girls – Iszasha She doesn’t walk — she advances. Not to intimidate. Not to follow. Just because… she was born to face the storm. Iszasha was born on the 6th of Sun’s Height, 4E 173, in the blistering heart of southern Hammerfell — a child of war, sunlight, and unbroken will. Her home lay near the port city of Rihad, where Forebear warriors sharpened their blades under the oppressive heat, while Thalmor banners loomed in the distance. The Dominion's invasion had reached its peak, and Iszasha’s first lullabies were the clash of curved steel and rebel chants. Too young to fight, she ran among tents of sand-worn soldiers — absorbing the art of war like others learn to read. At ten, she served as a desert courier: swift, silent, determined. She endured the sun, thirst, and silence of the Alik’r like she was born for it — because she was. Her people refused to bend. Even after the Empire abandoned them for peace, Redguards fought on. And won. Hammerfell remained free, and Iszasha, tempered in that fire, grew up believing that peace was never given — only earned. At eighteen, she chose a warrior’s path: a life of celibacy and combat. She became a devotee of the ancient art of Sword Singing, channeling the memory of the Ansei into each strike. Her tribal markings are more than ink — they are vows carved in flesh, reminders that her body is not for show, but for battle. She left Hammerfell seeking challenge and purpose. Skyrim, with its chaos and cold, welcomed her blades. There she met Yvelle — and though she knew she could outfight the Breton, she never challenged her. Why? Because leadership isn’t strength. It’s something deeper — and Yvelle had it. In any fight, Iszasha is the first to charge. Her confidence is unshakable. Her body, a weapon forged by sun, wind, and hardship, is something she wears like armor — even without clothes. To see her nude is not to see her exposed… but to witness the pride of a warrior who has nothing to hide. Still, stillness unnerves her. Taverns, warmth, laughter — they are foreign terrain. She was never taught to lower her guard. So when she seems cold, distant, or blunt… it’s only because she doesn’t know how to be soft. Not yet. But among her companions, something is changing. In this strange new family, she has found a place where even warriors can breathe. "I’m not here to play nice. But I might stay, if you’re worth it." Blood type: O

I've been wanting to do a presentation of my characters for a while now and I finally found the perfect template for it. I hope you like it and enjoy the lore of each one of them. --------------- ♥ ♥ ♥ --------------

Meet the Girls – Fjolir She hides behind armor. Not because she’s afraid… but because softness feels more dangerous than any blade. Fjolir was born in Ivarstead on the serene morning of the 13th of Evening Star, 4E 181 — in the shadow of the Throat of the World, where the sky brushes the earth. Her mother died giving birth to her. Her father, a soldier then, never remarried — a quiet vow to the woman he loved. He left the battlefield and became a woodcutter, raising his daughter with calloused hands and a heart that had already lost too much. Fjolir grew up exploring the hills and caves near the village, running wild along the path of the Seven Thousand Steps. She was always smiling… but sometimes, when no one was watching, she would sit alone and imagine what it might have been like to know her mother — a woman she only knew through her father’s stories. Their bond was strong. In the forests, he taught her the names of plants and their hidden uses — she learned how to brew potions, how to treat wounds, how to survive. But he also placed a wooden sword in her hands when she could barely stand. By the time she came of age, she could wield a two-handed blade with grace and fury. Armor came easier than dresses. As her body changed, she grew shy and unsure — choosing to hide her femininity behind layers of steel rather than reveal it. It wasn’t shame… just a quiet instinct to protect herself from eyes she didn’t yet know how to meet. She believes in Talos, like any true Nord, but she keeps her distance from the Stormcloaks — unwilling to spill blood in a war where brothers fight brothers. Her blade is for those who need her… and can afford her. Now twenty, she walks the roads of Skyrim as an adventurer. Timid in speech, gentle in heart — but when danger strikes, her doubt vanishes. Steel sings in her hands, and fear dares not follow. "I still don’t know how to do this… but I’m trying." Blood type: A

Meet the Girls – Yvelle She walks like she knows someone is watching. Not to please. Not to provoke. Just because… she is meant to be seen. Born in Jehanna the, 3rd Sun's Dawn E4 174, during a night thick with thunder, Yvelle — a Breton by blood — has always felt the world watching her. At three, her family moved to Markarth — a city carved in stone, where her memories began. She showed early talent in magic, especially shock spells — sharp, quick, precise, like her. But she also understood the weight of wounds — hers and others’. That’s why she studied restoration at the College of Winterhold, learning to mend what lightning cannot burn away. After leaving the College, she travelled alone through Skyrim’s wild landscapes. She learned how to walk unseen, how to read the silence between trees — and how to draw a bow with unsettling precision. But something changed. Somewhere along the way, she came into contact with a mysterious force — not divine, not daedric, but old, written in runes that now mark her skin like whispers from another world. She dyed her hair white. She stopped explaining herself. Yvelle isn’t trying to be alluring. She simply is. There’s a hunger in her eyes — not for touch, but for gaze. She thrives under it, plays with it, invites it without ever asking. She moves like she belongs to the light… or maybe to the shadows it creates. At first, she kept to herself. But lately, she’s begun surrounding herself with others: women she trusts, fights beside, teases, protects. She’ll never say it out loud, but she’d walk through fire for them. "Expect to see more from me here.. 😜" Blood type: B — or so she claims. But some say it's really 0… and that would explain a lot.

Previous Iterations Current Iteration Name: Aldy “Alduin” Whynn, the World Eater Age: N/A Race: Dragon (Human Form) Sexuality: N/A Occupation: Genderbent Mortal Form of Alduin, World Eater, First-Born of Akatosh Love Interest(s): N/A Family: Akatosh (Father), Weapon(s): Claws, Shouts (favors using Fire Breath, Frost Breath and Unrelenting Force shouts, as well as the Dragon Storm Call [a shout unique to her]) Background: Having slightly recovered from his ordeal with the Dragonborn, Alduin mustered up what power that he had in order to avert being cast off between time as he been in the past in his battle against the Trio of Dragonborn of Old. Instead of living outside of time, the World Eater found himself to be revived in Sovngarde. Normally being in that realm would be a treat for the great Dovah, as there are plenty of lost souls at his disposal, however an odd taste was left in Alduin’s mouth… Something was off. Something about him was… different from before. He felt smaller, weaker, gone was the mighty and majestic form he’d boasted and been portrayed throughout the Era’s. Instead when he regained awareness of his surroundings and of himself, he noticed that his form had become similar to that on the one who had last vanquished him… the Dovahkiin who went by Sorerica. Not only that, Alduin felt a strange energy intertwined with his own. Knowing that this was the source for his abnormal appearance, an enraged Alduin vented out his frustrations by setting the massive ravine that lay before the Hall of Valor ablaze. Once that was out of his system, Alduin tried to leave Sovngarde but couldn’t. Without his previous powers he was stuck here or so he thought. Using remnants of his memories right after he had been defeated this last time, Alduin realized that the Dovahkiin’s party had returned to Mundus thanks to the powers of the the ancient god of trials against adversity, Tsun. Despite being vastly weaker than he was before, Alduin not only challenged but ultimately defeated Tsun in single combat that was waged for over two days. As a result, Alduin was rewarded with his desired trip back to Mundus, and the opportunity to not only find the source of this foreign energy that had befouled his visage but to also have a chance at restoring his pride and honor as the God of Destruction, as the fear-evoking World Eater, as Al-du-in. Once on the Dovahkiin’s native soil, Skyrim, Alduin immediately felt ever stronger as the Civil War which was emboldening and empowering him in his former form continued to wage on giving the World Eater a seemingly endless source of power. Only during the Great Wars had Alduin ever felt such death and chaos, and thanks to his mortal frame, this was also the first time that he had been able to partake in such a scrumptious meal personally. Drowning in the bliss of this endless chaos, Alduin was almost content if the Civil War had never ended, but alas, his wishes were in vain as once again the Dovahkiin helped play spoiler as Sorerica helped the Imperials ultimately grasp victory over the Stormcloaks. As enraged as he was with the Dovahkiin, Alduin could feel something within Sorerica that intrigued him... A chaos unlike any other... Knowing that if left alone, the Dovahkiin had the potential to create massive amounts of devastation, Alduin decided to play the long game and savor this dish as the very chaos that the Dovahkiin was about to ensue would be the very same catalyst that Alduin would use to destroy her. That said, Alduin knew that this strategy would require patience, and since he couldn’t simply live as he pleased as a Dovah roaming the skies, Alduin was forced to lower himself to the standards of mortals and “live” amongst him. But the World Eater was no fool. Going around calling himself “Alduin” was likely to attract the wrong sort of attention, and with Sorerica’s demise off in the distance, he couldn’t afford to have things complicate his situation any further. Luckily for him, a chance meeting with a drunk traveling Breton conjurer by the name of Sam Guevenne would not only give him an alias that he could work with, “Aldy Whynn,” but also point Alduin in the direction needed to find his saboteur… Guevenne and the foreign energy both gave off an energy that Alduin was able to recollect the source of after meeting the Breton… It was a Daedric Lord that had tampered with the World Eater’s visage, and when Alduin figured out which one was at fault, there was nothing and no one besides Anu or Padomay who could stay his wrath.

Previous Iterations Current Iteration Name: Alashir the Dragon Warrior Age: 26 Race: Redguard Sexuality: Heterosexual Occupation: Second-in-Command of the Blades, Mercenary Love Interest(s): Lydia, Delusia(?), Sorerica(?) Family: Razelian (Brother) [deceased] Weapon(s): Blades Sword Background: For as long as he could remember, it had always been Alashir and his older brother, Razelian, fending for themselves against the world. The memories he had of his parents were scarce, the most vivid being the day they brought the brothers to their uncle whom the young boys presumed they were going to stay with for the foreseeable future. However, their uncle an illegal drug trafficker and within a year he left them in Gilane in order to more quickly move about the province. Having given up on relying on their other family members, Alashir and Razelian decided to stay in Gilane and build plant their roots there. Training, hunting, training, eating, training, sleeping… The daily regiment for the brothers was simple, but for the two of them who had so little it was rewarding. Being able to gauge how far they came from the previous day was something the young Redguards couldn’t wait for and sometimes lost sleep over. After a few years of this, the brothers’ achievements were recognized by Gilane’s acting King, King Alushik I, and he enrolled the boys into the city’s elite youth army, the Ebon Corps. There, their life was more of the same, but with structure. They tested their might and mettle not only against their peers, but against those who trained them as well. Expectantly, Razelian shot up the ranks and within six months held the second highest rank one could get within the Ebon Corps. Alashir’s rise wasn’t as sudden, but the young brother found glory within the army as well. Although rank separated them, the brothers were set that nothing would ever tear them apart… and then enter Delusia. Delusia was a girl who the brothers had known ever since arriving in Gilane. She endeared herself to them quickly and soon found herself as a third wheel in their activities. That had changed when the brothers entered the Ebon Corps, but not for long as they pair would soon find out. Being slightly better than Alashir but not as great as Razelian, seven months after the pair had joined the Ebon Corps, Delusia made her debut and things went back to usual for the trio. However, Alashir could see a rift form between himself and the other two as within only two months Delusia outranked him which saw her and his brother hang out more often. Although perturbed by this, Alashir didn’t mind. He knew that although he longed for Delusia’s affections and had done so ever since he laid eyes upon her, he knew that her eyes were always on his brother and for everything that Razelian had done for him, Alashir wasn’t going to ruin his brother’s shot at true happiness. When he found out that the two of them had begun dueling each other every Morndas to see how strong they had become during the past week, he had jokingly called it the pair’s "lovey dovey" time, but after seeing their resolve during the duel and how relaxed they were afterwards, Alashir knew it was a matter of time before his “joke” would turn into reality. Deciding to focus on himself, Alashir grew more and more distant from his brother and childhood friend and after hitting a wall in regards to his standing within the Ebon Corps, he turned to another for help. One of the Ebon Corps’s most unusual recruits was its fifth highest ranking member, Ra’jenji-Do, a rather crafty and ingenious Khajiit who made a name for himself within the army by utilizing his immense tactical wit and disregarding conventional combat styles to use an informal fighting style he dubbed “Kyaan-Do,” an unorthodox style comprised both reading and overpowering your opponent while seeming like you’re doing neither. When he hit a wall, Alashir went to Ra’jenji-Do because he knew that Ra’jenji-Do was the only one in the whole army that could beat into him the one thing that he didn’t have, spontaneity. It wasn’t easy by any stretch, but within a few months Alashir could saw results as he finally cracked the top one hundred ranked members of the army. Throughout his teenage years, Alashir slowly but steadily rose through the ranks and felt that it was but a matter of time that he broke through to the army’s top ten officials, but then Gilane or rather the Ebon Corps received a writ of challenge from a man calling himself the Ebony Warrior. Immediately upon hearing this, eight higher ranked warriors answered the call including both Razelian and Delusia. Alashir had wanted to join in as well, but both Razelian and Delusia forbade him from doing so. After seeing the "Ebony Warrior" go against his first six challengers with the result ending with their defeat, Delusia tried her hardest and faced off with the “Ebony Warrior” with everything she had, but not only was she unable to land a hit on the Ebony clad Nord, she wasn't even able to protect herself from any of his blows... And this was after he’d already faced off against (and slain) SIX of her brethren. Just as the Nord was about to seal her fate, Razelian stepped in to protect her much to Delusia’s disdain. After saying that if Razelian died, they both died, the Ebony Warrior fought Razelian in a duel that seemed like it went on for hours. Alashir couldn’t believe his eyes, and realized that doing what he’d been doing wasn’t enough. Delusia, the “Ebony Warrior”, his brother… He thought that he was one step from being able to fight them, but he realized on that day after seeing his brother fight and defeat the Ebony Warrior that he could no longer stand in their path to greatness. Utilizing the celebration of his brother’s victory as a guise, Alashir snuck off and became a deserter. Heading northeast, he didn’t stop going until he found himself surrounded by a group of bandits north of the Rift. Tired and weary, Alashir had half a mind to simply allow them to capture him just so that he could rest for a bit, but after seeing a pair of teens, one a male with short blue hair and the other a female with long dark hair and golden eyes, as the bandits’ captives, Alashir made quick work of the group of bandits before passing out. When he came to, the girl threw herself on him while bawling while the boy explained what had happened. Apparently, the two of them, Andeyncois and Jylisen, were students at the College of Winterhold who were on an assignment. They were supposed to collect an ancient magical artifact from somewhere in the Rift, but they were supposed to be able to find it only my sensing the artifact’s Magicka… which is why they got lost and subsequently captured by bandits. Alashir, having nothing better to do at the moment, asked the pair if they would like him to escort them, and the duo, having given up on their assignment and simply wanting to return to the College, eagerly agreed. After arriving back at the College, Alashir, upon promising Jylisen that she would keep in contact, left and had decided that he would simply train for a bit throughout the land of Skyrim before ultimately returning to Gilane. However his plans were forcibly changed after meeting with the Dragonborn sometime later… Sorerica, one of the most irritable people Alashir had ever met, was also one of the strongest people he’d ever seen. She was so strong in fact that he believed that the anal Nord could possibly even take on his brother in a one on one fight. After seeing Sorerica take on a group of four giants using only her hands, he had no intention of engaging the Nord, but had no choice when she waltzed up to him and took an affront to him sneakily watching her dispatch the giants. Without allowing him to explain himself, Sorerica attacked him. However to both of their surprise, Alashir was able to momentarily subdue her on her belly thanks to his Ebon Corps training. Feeling that this was a fatal mistake, he immediately released her and braced for another attack, but instead was greeted with an extended hand and a hearty smile. Without another word, Alashir knew that they would be close companions and was proven right as he traveled within her inner circle consisting of himself, Sorerica’s closest Housecarl Lydia, the gigantic Orc brute Molac Bulagurz, and a rather peculiar adventurer that goes by “Dovakini-chan.” Alashir would become an invaluable asset to Sorerica as he became the leader of the reformed Blades under the Dragonborn’s banner (who decided to spare Paarthurnax and slay Esbern for his defiance and persistence that she kill the meditative dragon), he accompanied Sorerica, Dovakini, and Lydia as they vanquished Alduin, and he also became someone with whom Sorerica felt comfortable confiding in. After the Civil War’s end, Sorerica vanished and although Alashir led the charge in finding the Dragonborn, he soon decided that Sorerica needed the space and ultimately temporarily disbanded the Blades which allowed everyone, including himself, to get a well-deserved break from all the turmoil that the province provided… Or so he thought. That would all change when Alashir happened upon Bleak Falls Burrow in his travels and witnessed a young hapless adventurer about to be ravished by a slightly out of his mind Bandit Leader…

Previous Iterations Current Iteration Name: Agroha Lumbump Age: 18 Race: Orsimer Sexuality: Heterosexual(?) Occupation: Skye’s Slave Love Interest(s): ??? (Possibly Skye) Family: Yagmorz Lumbump (Father), Shazbub Lumbump (Uncle) [deceased] Weapon(s): Her fists Background: -Quoted from Agroha

Previous Iterations Current Iteration Name: Agrathia the Little Demon Age: 19 Race: Redguard Sexuality: Heterosexual(?) Occupation: Mercenary Love Interest(s): ??? (Possibly Gonka, possibly Ania, looking for a mate) Family: Jalieer Rhoshte (Mother) [deceased], Wayem Rhoshte (Father) [deceased], Chief Burguk (Adoptive Father) Weapon(s): Two-Handed Troll Breaker Sword Background: When people in Skyrim hear tale of demons, they either associate the term with Daedra, or people over exaggerating how strong someone was. However, when people hear tale of the Little Demon, fear grips them for they know that they’re about to hear something quite outlandish… But very much so true… Agrathia, born as Taviia Rhoshte, and was born to a wealthy pair of Redguard merchants and an heir to a franchise that was soon to become a dynasty. However, that would never come to pass as when she was but only sixteen months old, Taviia’s parents and their guards were attacked and killed by a group of bandits. Not ones so meaninglessly slaughter children, the bandits spared her, but left her to face her impending death as nature would have it… That is until the Orsimer, Burguk the Chieftain of Dushnikh Yal, found her and took her back to his stronghold where he grew Taviia up alongside his other offspring: Nagrub, Umurn, Lash gra-Dushnikh, and the child that Ghorbash, unknown to Burguk, had had with an outsider and was previously on the outskirts of, Sarvei. Shel, Burguk’s favorite wife, gave young Taviia the name Agrathia for the Orsimer knew not what her real name was and needed something to call her by, and although Agrathia was not an Orc, Burguk tried to have her raised as his own daughter. However, no matter how good she did or how well she was able to grasp the concepts and traditions of the stronghold, Agrathia wasn’t accepted by most of the Stronghold. This was especially true when it came to Burguk’s own children and although Sarvei tried her best to make Agrathia feel at home, the young Redguard felt more and more alienated by the day than Burguk had ever wanted her to for years into her childhood… And then an outsider showed up. When Agrathia was nine, a young female Orsimer who was but a year older than her, showed up to the stronghold to challenge Burguk for the right to be chief. It was a laughable notion and went against their traditions; however this young girl would not relent on wanting a showdown with Burguk. So for four months, this girl came to challenge Burguk and was immediately turned away. One day when Burguk was out hunting, the girl showed up and no one would answer her. Upset that no one would either shun the girl or fight for her “father’s” honor, Agrathia went out and faced her. Agrathia thought that a challenge would be nothing but a spar like she’d done with Burguk’s lot before. However, the young girl swiftly dealt with Agrathia. But before she could land the finishing blow, Burguk showed up and disarmed the young Orc and forced her and his children into his longhouse. Burguk was furious that none of his legitimate children thought to deal with this “threat” and punished each of them for the same amount of time that the outsider had been challenging him for. As for Agrathia and the Orc girl, Burguk gave them one week to prepare for they would do an official battle with these stakes: if Agrathia lost, she’d be exiled from the stronghold and the Orc girl would indeed be able to challenge Burguk for the right to be chief. After a week, the pair fought to a draw in a fierce battle that to this day is still talked about throughout the stronghold. Although she didn’t win, Agrathia had finally began to garner respect and acknowledgement from others in the stronghold, and seeing as there was no clear winner, Burguk allowed the girl, Gonka gra-Atulslag, to stay in Dushnikh Yal until the day that they next did battle. Though the beginning was rough between the two girls, through the next three years their animosity toward each other turned into a rivalry, which in turn blossomed into a great friendship, wherein Gonka helped Agrathia fit in with the rest of the Orcs so much so that rather than calling her Blood-kin they simply saw her as one of their own flesh and blood. It soon became clear that Agrathia was becoming a force to be reckoned with, and rather than stifle her potential, Burguk offered her a challenge in order to push her to her absolute limit. He told her that if she weren’t able to find a mate or a challenge worthy to have their stories told throughout the ages by her 22nd birthday, then she would have to become his next wife. Rather than feel anxious about such an absurd task, at the age of twelve Agrathia decided it was time that she traveled the land to hone herself, and find exactly what Burguk sought from her. One year after that was when rumors of the one called the “Little Demon” began to circulate around the various Holds in the province. Stories of a girl, clad in the armor of her victims, going around and wreaking havoc for various bandit gangs. Tales of a young girl, facing odds against creatures that even seasoned veterans dared not face. The tales kept on building up until her seventeen year… When the dragons started coming back to life. Agrathia didn’t slay a single dragon throughout the entire crisis, however her actions during the first dragon sighting after Helgen were nothing short of legendary. Agrathia happened to be the first one onto the scene, before both the Dragonborn and the Companion’s Harbinger, and she was able to keep the dragon at bay for an entire thirty minutes without involving anyone else… And while keeping damage to the surrounding land to a minimum. Since then, Agrathia has been utilizing her time in the aim of getting strong enough (in her mind) in order to carry out Chief Burguk’s challenge to her… As well as assisting Gonka on a myriad of assignments throughout the province.

Previous Iterations Current Iteration Name: Aeriniia Elmwind, "Kynareth's Hand" Age: 27 Race: Bosmer/Imperial Sexuality: Bisexual Occupation: Priestess of Kynareth, Eccentric Healer Love Interest(s): ??? Family: Endnalda Elmwind (Mother), Unknown Imperial Soldier (Father) [Whereabouts unknown] Weapon(s): Restoration Magic enhanced through Sensual Dancing/Stretching Background: Born from a passionate tryst in the between her Bosmer mother and the Imperial Soldier who stole her heart for but one night, Aeriniia grew up in Whiterun. Her mother, having been a priestess of Kynareth herself in Cyrodiil, submerged Aeriniia in all things Kynareth until it was driven into her that that she would follow in her mother's footsteps. Although she realized very early that there was no escaping this inevitability, she found being a priestess to be a... suffocating experience. The conformity, the rules, the rigidness, all of it was a lot for the curious little Halfling to come to terms with. Not only that, in spite of her mother constantly insisting that this lifestyle would be a fulfilling one, Aeriniia felt as if there was a hole in her life. That all changed when at the age of seven when a traveling caravan of Khajiit visited the city and performed a show in the city's marketplace. It was nothing like she'd ever seen before. Some Khajiit were displaying their strength and accuracy, other Khajiit were performing acrobatic feats, and others were entertaining the crowd both with song and jests. However there was one among them, a Redguard woman, who caught the Halfling's eye. This performer, Desert Rose, dressed in attire that showed off her nubile assets and displayed the limits her nimble and supple body could go to through dance and rhythmic stretching. Where others jeered in disgust at how brazenly she was dressed or turned away in an attempt to be "polite," Aeriniia was drawn in her eyes never leaving Desert Rose's form until she disappeared from sight after the caravan's performance was over. At first, Aeriniia believed that this was a sign that she was into women. So she tried her hand at dating both men and women alike and seeing if this was what she was missing. However, despite how loving some of her partners were, from both sexes, Aeriniia still felt this insatiable longing in her chest which resulted in all of her relationships failing. It was after her eighth relationship had ended sourly that she realized that it wasn't Desert Rose's appearance that had enthralled her, but it was her performance. It had been seven years since seeing that caravan's performance, but the Halfling remembered everything that Desert Rose had done in its totality. And so, one day after finishing up her duties at the Temple of Kynareth, Aeriniia sneakily left the city and found a patch of trees to the south that she'd be obscured from the main roads and hid there. Once she was sure that she wouldn't, COULDN'T, be seen, she disrobed until she was stark naked. She didn't have anything as revealing or giving as Desert Rose had, so she decided to just try without. After taking a deep breath and calming her racing heart... she danced. Aeriniia danced, and stretched, and danced, and stretched and danced for what felt like an eternity. For her, time slowed as she danced and she could feel every slight shift happening around her. The alteration of the wind's speed or temperature, the moment when sweat was about to expel from her pores, the subtle differences in the dirt below her feet and which places she ought to avoid if she didn't want to injure herself. She wasn't as supple as Desert Rose, but she still replicated the dancer's performance over and over again as best she could until she was finally stopped by her mother who bore down upon her like she was unhinged. Forcibly robing her, her mother brought her back home immediately and gave her the worst tongue lashing she'd ever had. It was some time into her mother's speech that Aeriniia realized that it had gotten very, VERY dark and that she hadn't eaten in quite some time, so she unintentionally asked while her mother was mid-sentence, "That's all well and good, but what's for dinner, mother?" The next thing Aeriniia knew, she was on the ground surrounded by her things and a foreign bag next to her. She looked up and saw her mother both seething and crying at her. "I'll not have a Daedra worshipper for a daughter! ESPECIALLY on of HIS worshippers! I thought I had raised your right, but it turns out that you're your father's daughter after all... Get out of my house, Aeriniia. And never let me see you again!" And then the fourteen year old Half-Bosmer Half-Imperial found herself without a home, without a family, and only with the items she could carry and the teachings of Kynareth. She didn't know what to do so she stayed at the Temple for a time, making sure to avoid her mother whenever possible. However, eventually the priest and priestesses there caught wind of her late evening activities and at the age of sixteen she was expelled from the Temple on the grounds of potentially being a Daedra worshipper. POTENTIALLY. Aeriniia didn't understand how merely dancing and stretching had ANYTHING to do with Daedra worship, but it didn't matter. Seeing that she had nowhere else to go, the Halfling took her talents and began traveling around the province. However, even with all that had happened to her, she didn't stop dancing in the late evenings. How freeing, how cathartic it was for her to let herself be engulfed by her dancing was addicting, and no matter how many times she'd gotten kicked out of an establishment or a town or a city because people found out what she was up to, Aeriniia continued to dance. Then in her nineteenth year, the first of two life changing events happened to her. She had just been kicked out of the Winking Skeever and was traveling the outskirts of town when she found a traveler on the side of the road. He had a deep nasty wound in his abdomen as if he had been attacked by something, but no one was giving him the time of day. Being a priestess and rather adept in Restoration Magic, Aeriniia knelt beside the wounded man and said, "I see you're in trouble kind sir, would it bother you if I assisted you so you could be on your way?" The man, a Nord, looked at her and smiled. " * cough * * cough * Aye lass, it does seem that I'm in quite the predicament. However, it's * cough * better if you don't involve yourself with me. Don't want to dirty your reputation because your aided someone from the * cough * * cough * 'wrong crowd'." Seeing her tilt her head, the Nord continued, "My attire is a dead giveaway, lass. Now * cough * leave me be, lest someone assume you're an acquaintance of mine." Still confused, Aeriniia got to her feet and retrieved a book from her satchel. "I'm sorry, but... Is your attire supposed to mean something to me? I've never come across someone who dressed the way you do." He looked at her wide-eyed. "Well I'll be... Never * cough * thought I'd see the day where someone didn't recognize the attire of a Thieves' Guild member. Times must be harder for me than I'd thought... I've got to let Mercer know about this... * cough * * cough * " "Ah! So you're a thief." He nodded. "Indeed, lass. Now you understand why * cough * everyone's acting as if I don't exist. They'd rather I die out here than cause a scene in a city. They think me lesser than them, and to be honest? I really don't give a damn, lass. However... I would be something of a * cough * heartbreak * cough * to die out here alone..." Aeriniia gave him her hand and said, "What if I can heal you? Would you still be up to dying out here? Alone? With no one beside you?" "Ha! No offense lass, but what I've got... * cough * This wound... If you're not a master in Restoration... You're just wasting both our time." The thief leaned back and tried to get as comfortable as he could. "Now go, before a guard finds you." "Kynareth's blessings extend to both the righteous and the unruly alike. I may not be the master that you claim to need, but I'd rather drink Skeever piss than see someone dying and not help them." Seeing that she wouldn't relent, the thief allowed her to heal him, and although her skills were near the expert level when it came to Restoration, they were a far cry from what was needed to heal him. Multiple times while she was healing him, she felt like she was on the precipice of doing it, but something was holding her back... SHE was holding herself back. Her doubt, her worries that her mother was right, her living and financial situations, there was too much on her mind besides the task at hand and she had no way to free up the headspace that she needed... Except... Maintaining her concentration on healing the thief, Aeriniia disrobed, much to the surprise of the Nord, and then suddenly began dancing. She began to feel the noise in her head dissipate as she let the rhythm in her soul consume her; however she also realized that she was going to lose the thief if she did this as normal. So after a short reset, Aeriniia resumed dancing while keeping the thief as her one and only focal point. The main driving force behind this dance was to heal him of any and everything that was ailing him, and before she knew what was happening, Aeriniia was doing dances and stretches the likes that she'd never done before... the like of which she never knew she COULD do. Even with the Nord as her focal point, eventually she was consumed by her dancing until a stern but gentle force on both of her shoulders stopped her in her tracks. "I don't know what it was that you did, lass. But Divines, if you aren't a blessing. However..." He motioned behind him, and Aeriniia noticed that quite the crowd had gathered. "...You MIGHT want to put on something to cover your delicates, before you make the 'wrong' type of people unseasonably warm." After helping her dress and escape the crowd, the thief took Aeriniia far southwest from Solitude's gate and stopped once the pair reached a fork in the road. "I'm going back to Riften. You're welcome to join me if you'd like. However, I think it'll be quite some time before 'little Kyne' can return to Solitude." "My name is Aeriniia! Aeriniia Elmwind. And if going with you to Riften means that you'll put me up for a time," She extended her hand out to him. "Then I'll gladly accept, Mister..." "The name's Brynjolf, lass. Heh, I can ALREADY tell that Tonilla and Vex are gonna love you." From that point on, Aeriniia continued to travel across Skyrim while using the Theives' Guild as a place she could call home. While doing so she gained a ridiculous amount of notoriety due to her unconventional methods of healing people and her imparting the teachings of Kynareth to everyone she came across. Many accounts from people who encountered her have said some variation of, "Hearing her teachings and seeing her at work, it felt as if I had been touched by Kynareth," and thus the legend of the "Eccentric Healer" known as Kynareth's Hand was born. As for the second major event that happened to her that was life changing... You'll have to ask her to find out.

Name: Ravik Race: Nord Age: 30 Gender: Male Description: He is 6' tall. He prefers greatswords and heavy armor. He has a small amount of facial hair that he keeps neatly trimmed. As Nords go, he is a bit on the skinny side. Name: Irina Race: Nord Age: mid to late 20's (she won't say) Gender: female Description: She is 6' tall. She prefers one handed swords and sometimes a shield. She favors light armors but will use heavy armor if the situation calls for it. Backstory: Irina is a Nord adventurer. A few years ago, she did many brave deeds for the people of Solitude but the High Queen refused to give her the title of thane. She was not even allowed to but property in the city, despite all she had done. She ran into similar problems in other holds. She met Ravik in Riften. He became infatuated with her and decided to follow her around and help her. It had been awhile since she had been with a man and she had a wild night with Ravik. She realized to late that was a mistake. Since then he insists they are meant to be together. Ravik ended up saving her from a bandit ambush so she reluctantly agreed to let him follow her. One of the surviving bandits revealed that the High Queen had paid them to kill Irina. She realized it was no longer safe for her in Skyrim so the two of them left and made their way to High Rock. They passed through a camp of Nord refugees leaving Skyrim and over the next few weeks made their way to wayrest. It was in Wayrest that Irina met Fina in an inn. Fina was being harassed by several drunk patrons and Irina helped her out. Irina and Ravik were eventually introduced to Captain Vylise and agreed to join the crew of the Darkwater Raider.

Name: Aika Age: 23 Race: Imperial Gender: Female Description: She is 5'9" , blonde hair, brown eyes. She is flirty, cheerful and playful when she is not working. Her work attitude is serious and her actions considered. Backstory: Aika's parents were both scouts in the Imperial army and she was following in their footsteps. Her parents moved to Skyrim to take a new post and were executed by the High Queen for siding with rebel forces. Aika deserted the army to try and clear her familiy's name. While in Skyrim, she learned that they were used as scapegoats for some official. The local Imperial forces would not believe her evidence. With her place as a soldier gone and her families name ruined, she fled to High Rock where she ran into Captain Vylise. After joining the crew, she used her skills as a scout to find valuable items to steal and to help the crew avoid patrols.