Character Background (EPIC!!)

#1rul1dntgetcotPosted 11/7/2011 4:46:39 AM
race: high elf
class(style) battlemage, one handed swords only...leaning towards heavy armor, fire magic

Born in the year 4E 169 on the 24th of Last Seed (1 week after starting the game, will turn 32)
in the big city of Skywatch in Summerset Isles where my entire family (Father: Suldor Mother: Arwen Baby Sister: Mirawen) was killed by a band of Khajiit thieves who were after my father's most prized possession, a magical ring that he promised would someday be mine after I proved to him that I was responsible enough to keep it. He also promised that the ring was valuable enough so that if he was ever to have sold it, the family would have had incredible wealth for generations to come...it happened when I was just eight years old.

I was being taught by my uncle, Andar, in the art of spell craft that day. He lived well outside of the city north towards Firsthold. I had been trained by him ever since he and my father agreed that I great potential as a wizard when I was just an infant. I received the horrifying news when I returned just before nightfall. It had an immediate impact on my life as this occurred shortly after the lesser races were permitted in my homeland. My whole childhood I had been quite fearless, even my parents had no issue with me traveling to and from my uncles home by myself as soon as I had learned the way. It seemed as though the entire town knew about their deaths before I did.

A militia of the most wise and gifted wizards of Skywatch decided to go on a hunt for the thieves. Two days later, my best friend from childhood, Narcene's eldest brother (Torthol one of the most talented and promising mages many of the community had ever seen) found them hiding out in a camp a few miles south of Skywatch up in the hills. When he returned to town, he brought back what the thieves had stolen, but not the ring. He never even told me what he had done with the thieves, just that they were taken care of.

The night my family was killed I had stayed at Narcene and Torthol's home. The next day I returned to my uncle’s hut believing that he would take me in. He seemed very hesitant but quickly accepted me. He enjoyed teaching me and thought I was a great pupil, but enjoyed his life in solitude.

Years went by as I learned more and more about the ways of becoming a great wizard, but eventually my uncle grew weak and old. Before my fifteenth birthday, I was taking care of Andar. Eventually he began lecturing me from his bed and it didn't take me more than a few days of this for me to realize that his lectures became less about me learning new things about magic, but more about how to live a good life.

One night I had finally mastered how to emit flames from my hands and I still remember how uncle Andar just looked at me as I stood in triumph at the foot of his bed. He just smiled and said "You're on your way to doing so many wonderful things!" It was such a rare compliment from him. He had always pushed me to try harder. It was as if he had planned all along for this one single moment to finally admit his pride in my work so that it would have an immense effect on my esteem. I remember feeling so overwhelmingly proud of myself that I felt like the only adequate response was to shed a tear. Then I did just that, as I watched his eyes gently close and heard his last breath exhale. From that moment on I became completely alone just outside the large city of Skywatch.
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Every American should be given a new right on January 20th, 2009...the right the punch George Bush in the face...
#2rul1dntgetcot(Topic Creator)Posted 11/7/2011 4:48:31 AM
I decided to leave my homeland and head for Hammerfell as my life in Summerset Isle became known as one of Great Loss. I was poor, I was young, I was depressed and alone; so I spent nearly all the septims I had for a ferry to Rihad. During my travels I focused on everything my uncle had taught me in those final years about magic as I had just then began grasping the matter. When I finally arrived at the port I was somewhat shocked at what I discovered; it seemed like a barbaric militaristic place where everyone wore armor and beared swords. The cultured seemed crude and less friendly than that of my homeland and the first few days and nights I was terrified.

After a few weeks I found my favorite place to spend my time after collecting ingredients for the local taverns was at this one in particular, "The Sailor's Destination". It was quiet and for the most part vacant, where I could sip my woes and passed away. On this one particular evening during the late hours of business a trio of what I still considered ruffians at the time barged in through the door and made their way to sit directly next to me at the bar. The Breton who approached just to the left of me was in high spirits and nearly bumped me out of my stool as he sat down and ordered a round for his group. As I shot him a bit of a glare back he stared right back and asked

"What in oblivion is bugging you?"

I told him that it was just late and I was tired but what he said next would prove that I was still well awake and ready for opportunity.

The next few months I would join Antoine, Brucetus and Renald exterminating bandits that littered southeast Hammerfell who had planned on making their living by raiding the cities of Chorol, Anvil and the rebuilding Kvatch. The three of them agreed to take me in on a rather racist judgment that just because I was Altmer that I knew how to throw a fireball or two. They considered themselves very handy with their own weapons; Antoine could decapitate Orc muscle with a single swing of his long sword, Brucetus was a very impressive marksman and Renald had a family heirloom of his own, a massive war hammer made of silver. This began my career as a mercenary wizard.

I finally felt the pressure to push my limits or die (at times) with my craft. The bounties we received were great (considering I was flat broke, rolling in mud for pollens at the time) and the excitement was greater. Even though I had just started working with the bounty hunters, they accepted me and thought of me as a valued commodity. They would joke about

"It's not the three wealthy Bretons your uncooked ass needs to worry about, it's the bastard Elf!"

These guys opened my eyes to the world that had always been out there. The "Barbaric, Uncivilized, Sharpened and Poisonous World" that terrified me back home. By the first harvest season I had been in Hammerfell I had gold, I had friends, I had my own place to stay and the women I met didn't meet me and ask how I was getting through it all....
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Every American should be given a new right on January 20th, 2009...the right the punch George Bush in the face...
#3rul1dntgetcot(Topic Creator)Posted 11/7/2011 4:49:47 AM
After a year though, things began to grow stale. Around the age of twenty-five, twenty-six; I began realizing how talented I was. Antoine began to claim that as soon as the trio became a quartet we were more capable, and at first I thought he was just trying to keep me going along with them...After a few months we began taking on the higher risk jobs from the Rihad authorities and eventually would start traveling to Taneth and then even Elinhir; until we were completely covering every major disturbance in and out of east Hammerfell. It would have been more tiring had there not been the great and many rewards...but along with it came more work, mostly on my part...

Eventually Antoine suggested to me to have a sword on me while carrying out contracts. At first I laughed it off as a joke until one particular raid where we were informed that a large operation of Bretons had been working out of the Colovian highlands and made an easy fortune off traders in and out of Chorol. So, I accepted the Silver Shorts word from Antoine.

The plan was quite simple, the other three would rush the camp from the north side in the middle of the night and I was to block off any fleeing leader's escape from the highest vantage point from the south. I chose stand guard atop a tall mountain just north of an abandoned fortress and wait. What eventually came my way was not just the Breton Leader but along with three Orcs and a Khajiit all suited with heavy enchanted armor that held my fire spells almost useless. The Breton would turn out to be the easy part of my victory as I dispatched of him with several high powered flame bursts.

I looked up towards the horizon to find none of my companions rushing to finish the job. I nearly burnt down a small portion of the woods to take down one of the Orcs before I had to resort to the sword Antoine had given me. As one of the other Orcs attempted to limp away along with the Khajiit thief I was forced to engage with the other remaining Orc who had been following them with a dwarven claymore. As he rushed down into the valley I felt that this could be my end and prayed to the eight that my trusty brethren would arrive just in time, as they had done in so many times past.
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Every American should be given a new right on January 20th, 2009...the right the punch George Bush in the face...
#4rul1dntgetcot(Topic Creator)Posted 11/7/2011 4:50:04 AM
I fell to the ground attempting to fend off the initial swing from the beastly mer, threw his shoulder to the left of me as I came to my feet and began to concentrate on casting another fireball for my survival. I attempted a simple yet effective cast to give myself an upper hand and hoped that this would end in another close call that the gang could soon laugh about. The menacing Orismer took the blow and immediately taunted back at me. He slowly made his way downhill, raising his blade for a swift deathblow. To this day I consider this the moment where my instincts as a killer kicked in. I threw up my left hand to impede his strike and thrusted the blade into his jugular, threw him to the ground and let out a trembling scream.

As I gazed around after feeling the thrill of taking one’s life directly by my own hands I realized the two other bandits had stopped and watched as I had destroyed what was left of their gang. It was the leader that mustered the courage and honor to avenge his fallen partner that charged back up the hillside. As soon as I was surprised by his cunning I found the power to stop him in his tracks with what was left of my power in a single blow of fire, which left the lone Kahjiit as the last remaining target.

He stood there, wide eyed and unsure of what to do. Without their leader and other associates I had learned that thieves are the most cowardly types in this world. The second he glanced over his shoulder towards the unforgetting land of Cyrodil I charged down at him clenching my blood stained blade. As he glanced back, fear of the type which is not often seen in the eyes of a Khajiit ruled his entire face. I screamed at him in a way that has stuck with me to this day, and as I reached within striking distance I leaped at him from a distance and aimed straight at his furry throat. Though it was not a model sever at his neck, it was still clean proof that I possessed a talent for this type of work....

My band of Breton mercenaries would meet me minutes later at the base of Fort Rayles. They said that they had gone searching for me hours ago after the initial ambush, claiming they had dealt with the entire group of bandits...but I saw it in their eyes. They wanted to collect this bounty all for their own.

After a long argument about the ordeal, I told them I was leaving; that I would head north. As far as I needed to go...
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Every American should be given a new right on January 20th, 2009...the right the punch George Bush in the face...
#515643Posted 11/7/2011 4:50:27 AM
tl;dr
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Always have something to look forward to. What I'm looking forward to: Skyrim.
#6capnovanPosted 11/7/2011 4:52:23 AM
Even Tolstoy would say tl;dr.
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You can take my Karma, but you'll never take......MY FREEDOM!
#7Neo_OnionKnightPosted 11/7/2011 4:53:25 AM

Can I get that in a shout form?

#8rul1dntgetcot(Topic Creator)Posted 11/7/2011 5:07:03 AM
don't really care, just want someone's reaction...first time i tried this...wow i messed up on my grammar...makes me mad....basically i'ma go from a shmarty pants mage to a bounty hungry headlopper...equalling one badass altmer

most importantly...it killed time ;-)
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Every American should be given a new right on January 20th, 2009...the right the punch George Bush in the face...
#9z0mbin3_81Posted 11/7/2011 6:13:04 AM
Name: Hrothic
Race: Nord
Gender: Male
Age: 31
Class: Axe Brute

Back story:
Raised in Bruma and taught the art of felling trees yours was a simple life but fruitful. Until strife and misfortune spread across Cyrodil and most of Tamriel the center point being the fall of the Empire. Being a strong headed Nord you and your family refused leave home to seek refuge in the troubled but fairly stable province of Skyrim. However bandits began to pillage the barley defended Bruma and in one of these raids your house was burned, Father and two brothers killed and your mother along with your sister kidnapped you finally fled the burning snowy city. You later tracked down the Bandits who took you mother and sister. It was too late for mother and the leader sold your sister months back in High Rock. You could never find her.

Broken you begin to run with several mercenary groups, security bands and village guards. But the war strifed areas you see become to much for you. Seven years after the Bruma raid that shook your life to splinters you finally take the advice of your old neighbors and make your way to Skyrim for the life of a simple tree cutter. However Skyrim has closed it’s borders to refuges but this is this will not stop your tried soul from finding a more peaceful life. And you cross into Skyrim in the night.

But the Border guard have caught you and do not care if you share Nord blood.
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I made me do it..... wait.