Character BackgroundsRoleplayPlaystyles : V - Skyrim

» Sat Jun 16, 2012 3:52 pm

Name: Gryden

Race: Nord

Skill focus:
One handed- 100 (swords only)
Block- 98
Heavy armor- 100
Lockpick- 56
Speech- 75
Smithing- 100

Character background:
Gryden Rothgear was trained in the arts of warfare ever since his extreme youth, starting at about 6. His clan, the Rothgears, were a noble Nord clan in the mid-fourth era (4E 56 - 4E 174). They originate from Dawnstar, and prospered from trade there. At the start of the Great War (4E 171), Clan Rothgear was called upon to fight in the war, along many other clans throughout the land. Father Tornar, head of Clan Rothgear, refused to fight in the war, and remained neutral. Knowing that the Legion would soon send out a force to take him away, in 4E 171 he sent his three children away to different families. Tornar had many connections throughout Skyrim with the other clans. He sent his eldest son, Hikus, to live with the Clan Cruel-Sea in Windhelm. Renuin, the second youngest of the three, was sent to be a page boy to Sir Furneer of Solitude, a knight who knew Tornar since their youth. Gryden was sent to Whiterun to live with the Gray-Manes. He was 10 years old. He lived with them until he was 25, learning how to ride and use a sword and shield. Eorlund Gray-Mane taught him to smith, which Gryden picked up on quickly and exceled in. On his twenty-fifth birthday, Gryden left Whiterun in search of his brothers. After 5 years of searching, he discovered they had both been hunted down, tortured, and killed by Imperial agents. From that point on, Gryden swore to free Skyrim of Imperial rule, and he joined up with the Stormcloaks in Windhelm. He was captured at Darkwater Crossing, ambushed by Imperial forces there.

You know the rest.............

» Sat Jun 16, 2012 7:25 am

For the sake of space I'll put his backstory in a spoiler

Spoiler

Name: Kouper, once called The Burly, once called Of Kyne, now called The Hateful

Race: Nord

Kouper was always taller and stronger than the other children his age. Growing up in Cheydinhal he was often out of place among the Dunmer children his age. They teased him for his size and would mock him for being a Nord. Being teased for being tall and strong never really got to him, but when it came to his heritage he felt an especially strong bond.

At the age of twelve one of the older Dunmer children started to make fun of Kouper for being the son of a drunk Nord who clinger to dead gods... Kouper lost it, he may have been 3 years younger than the Dunmer boy, but he was already far faster and stronger. He lunged for the lad, catching him square in the gut with his right fist. The Dunmer boy doubled over, reeling from the sudden unexpected attack. Kouper swung with his left hand, smashing the back of the Dunmer's head. The boy collapsed to the ground, but Kouper's rage had consumed him. He rolled the boy over and started pummeling him, the other children tried to stop Kouper, it wasn't until Kouper was ripped away from his target by an advlt that he regained any sense of his humanity. The Dunmer lived, but Kouper's family was encouraged to leave the city before the city guard took action.

His family moved to Bruma, hoping he'd fit in better. Even in Bruma Kouper was taller than those his age, but he felt more at peace here. His father starte taking him out on long hunting trips, living off the land, and teaching Kouper of the Nord's history. Eventually Kouper realized the traditional guilds wheren't for him. He abandoned his learning and took up life in the woods, he hunted, and ruin-crawled to earn his keep.

Mostly, he sought peace for the rage he felt always hiding just under the surface. While he'd never lost control like when he was a boy, there had been plenty of instances he regretted allowing his blood to boil so. His life in the woods outside of Bruma had been good, and he was grateful his parents had done this for him. But he felt in his heart he'd only find peace in his ancestral homeland of Skyrim.

Not long after he'd crossed the border he met a beautiful young Nordic girl named Amber. Tall, long brown hair she kept braided to her waist. Her eyes where as green as all the forest taken in to two piercing orbs. Her body was lighter than that of many nordic women, but she ran with a speed unsurpassed. She was a priestess of Kyne, maintaining a small shrine outside her family's inn near whiterun. She offered him a job hunting to supply the inn in exchange for Room and board.

The two grew close, whenever he wasn't hunting he could be found at Amber's side, listening to her tell the histories of their people and their gods. Learning new ways to appreciate his surroundings and to tap in to that strength. He had found the peace he sought. He had been living there several years, Amber had taught him how to commune with nature, how to tap into her power and use it. To hunt, to fight, and even to heal. He learned to allow the forest and woodlands to be his guide.

The rain is coming, Kouper could feel it. He longed for it, to feel the very touch of Kyne as he hunted. He always felt like Amber was with him when it rained. But this storm, it felt different, for the first time he felt the need to hide from it. And yet he pushed these feelings off. He could feel the wind pushing him, pulling, urging him to return, and still he pushed on. He had never returned home without meat for The table, and tonight would be no different. Hours went by and still he had found nothing, not even a hint of animals in the forest. It was as if they where all hiding. He longed to return to the inn to be near his betrothed and her family. Allowing himself a single glance to the ridge which hides the inn he saw smoke, lots of smoke.

All at once he could feel his peace slipping away from him. He ran with all the speed of the wind. The very rain itself refusing to drop in his path aiding him along. As he came over the ridge he could see the inn's roof covered in flame. The shrine toppled, and bodies in the street. He could see several bandits muddling about, some seemingly joking and happy about the carnage they wrought. Gone, his peace had left him, the rain was empty and cold to him. He sprinted down the hillside, filled with a rage unlike any other, his skin turned a deep crimson, to match the blood for which he so lusted.

Still at full speed he was at the edge of their small village, his bow drawn he notched an arrow in the throat of the first bandit he saw, an Orc, poor beast hadnt a chance to cry out. Unleashing another arrow Kouper took another Orc off his horse, but the horse bolted towards the other bandits. Alerted to the presence of a would-be hero several bandits rushed towards the lone Nord, all three where Dunmer. Kouper fired one more arrow at his attackers, it narrowly missed. Dropping his bow he ran to meet them head on, drawing from either side his Ebony dagger and Steel longsword. Before they could reach them he flipped the dagger so he was holding it by the tip of the blade raising blade slightly before unleashing it, he watched as time seemed to slow, the blade spinning towards it's target, the Dunmer in front who dared to show his hideous face. His face exposed, swallowed the blade whole just below his left eye. He screamed and collapsed as blood exited the wound.

Kouper raised his longsword with both hands to parry the incoming blow of the second dunmer. The elf raised an axe high above his head in an attempt to cleave Kouper in two. Too slow, the elf was far too slow as Kouper's sword struck his midsection, the blade pushed straight through in it's broad arc across the poor fool. As his two halves fell the Dunmer's face lost all expression.

The third attacker suddenly felt as if he no longer had the advantage, this Nord had struck down two of his friends without slowing down. The elf dropped his sword and shield, putting both hands together he began to conjure a spell, a rift in reality opened behind him, a flash of light and two Atronachs had climbed out. They could sense their masters fear and immediately began to lunge towards this would be attacker.

Kouper's rage only grew stronger. These bastards, who attacked his home, his friends, dared to invite beasts of Oblivion here? He pointed his free hand towards the Dunmer conjuror, a small point of light reaching from his hand to the conjuror's forehead. All at once the rain stopped, the sky lit up as a tremendous bolt of lightning shot straight through the conjuror's body, the ground around him exploding under the force of the blast. The Atronachs where also caught in the blast, being torn apart, and spread upon the ground.

This display had terrified two of the three remaining bandits who abandoned their cause. Kouper spied the leader, yet another Dunmer. He also saw her, tied Up and ready to be taken away. His rage intensified, as if he could lose himself any further. The storm intensified as well, the sound of the pounding drops drowning out all else, the rain distorting everything into a twisted version of itself. But even still Kouper Recognized this one.

"Garyn! Garyn Hlaalu!" he shouted, the dunmer winced at hearing his own name, suddenly the memory of being a young boy beat nearly to death swept over him. He hurredly tried to place the captured priestess onto his horse. A splash of lightning nearby startled the beast as it ran off with his prize. He had to fight. Garyn could barely make out the form of his foe against the pounding rain. The fires he'd started had been quenched and night had drowned out the day. He steeled his mind to the task at hand and began firing waves of flame into the darkness. Blast after blast, walls of fire lighting up the night as Garyn fought this phantom of his past.

Finally Garyn spotted the beastly Nord. He placed both hands together as he unleashed every ounce of power he could, an enormous stream of flame sprayed forth to engulf it's target. "FUS" the very storm was pushed back by this phrase. A blast of energy pushed through the flame separating it and the storm, it blew Garyn straight through the wall of the inn. He looked up and could clearly see the enraged Nord, the rain had stopped, the sky had again darkened and hope was dead.

Kouper calmly placed his right hand on Garyns face, focusing on the air around his hand Kouper began to freeze air around it. Garyn screamed at first, but as his skin froze the screams slowly dropped to whimpers, and at the end soft cries. Silence. Kouper looked at the frozen husk in front of him, this husk had taken his peace from him. He swung as hard as he could, his fist shattering the corpse of Garyn Hlaalu of Cheydinhal.

Kouper awoke a couple days later, shackles on his wrists and ankles and his arms behind his back. He stared out through the bars of his carriage watching the world pass him by. He didn't care he'd lost everything, whatever the guards thought he did didn't matter. He could barely remember what happened that night. How did he stop that stream of flame, he remembered the heat of it, like he was going to roast alive, but somehow he was able to protect himself and disable Garyn.... Amber! He remembered seeing her tied up... But not moving. Everyone else he saw was dead.

"whatever you do with me, make it quick, in death I may again find peace" Kouper said to the driver of the carriage.

Playstyle-A focus on my dual blades and Bow with some light elemental magic and the occasional shout. Not terribly sneaky and never one to shy away from a fight. Tries to not cause problems, certain taunts and insults may lead to rage and assault. On such occasions, will yield to guards and accept his punishment. Not remotely interested in the thieves guild or Dark Brotherhood. Has joined the companions and Bard's college.

I've got a second character I'm working on, but she will get made once I learn how to mod. I want to try and create something a little different for her.

» Sat Jun 16, 2012 8:48 am

Soren Crow-Eye
Race: Nord
Gender: Male
Age: 26
Class: Witchhunter of Arkay (my variant)

Primary Skills: Archery, Restoration, Enchantment, Smithing
Secondary Skills: One Handed, Light Armor, Alchemy, Stealth

Backstory: Born in Markarth during the time of the Forsworn Uprising. Soren's father was a Nord farmer and his mother was a Forsworn (Breton) clans woman. They married during the relatively peaceful Forsworn reign over the Reach. Soren was barely a toddler when Ulfric Stormcloak waged war against the city and retook Markarth in the name of Skyrim. All Forsworn in the city (including) his mother were killed. His father was hanged as a "collaborator".

After the battle, Soren was sent to live with his uncle in Cyrodil. His uncle was a Witchhunter and a member of the Knights of the Circle (a military order devoted to Arkay - god of birth death and enemy to necromancers and the undead). Soren was raised in Cheydenhall and as a boy, served as a squire to his uncle and the other Witchunter knights. During this time, he saw first hand the devastation and corruption wrought by necromancy and other foul magics. In addition to serving as a squire, he also spent time serving in the Chapel of Arkay in Cheydenhall as a priest in training.

However, Soren never forgot what Ulfric Stormcloak did to his parents at Markarth. When he was presented the opportunity to become a full member of the Knights of the Circle, he refused knowing that he could never fully serve Arkay with all his heart until he returned to Skyrim and confronted Ulfric Stormcloak. He left Cheydenhall and spent some time as a hired man-at-arms before traveling to Bruma and then making his way into Skyrim.

It is more than a little ironic when he stumbles into an Imperial ambush and wakes up in a wagon sitting next to Ulfric Stormcloak...

Role playing notes: Soren is a devoted disciple of the Nine (especially Arkay - god of birth and death). He will always visit the Hall of the Dead in each city he visits to pay respect at the Shrine of Arkay and to help the attending priest in any way he can. He is a Witchhunter and will actively seek out necromancers and the undead to destroy them. He also supports the Legion and the unification of the Empire. Though he despises the White Gold Concordant, he thinks a united empire is the best best for defeating the Thalmor. He longs for a united empire and a united faith where Talos is formally restored to the Nine.

Soren distrusts the Daedric Lords, but will cooperate with Meridia, Azura and some few others if some good can come out of it.

Factions: College of Winterhold, Imperial Legion, the Dawnguard.

» Sat Jun 16, 2012 8:59 am

Name: Drake Malice

Race: Breton

Appearance: See Avatar for similar reference

Background: A Cyrodiilic Vampire of ancient origin going back before the events of Morrowind, Drake is always associated with Assassination and Murder. He has always been apart of the Dark Brotherhood in some manner or another. During a special Contract to kill a Volkihar (20 years after the OB crisis) he was frozen by the target and finally thawed 180 years later. He had learned that the Dark Brotherhood had fallen and possessed no sanctuary in Cyrodiil. He remained in Skyrim until he came across the Night Mother's Keeper Cicero. Having learned that the Dark Brotherhood had 1 final bastion in Skyrim he sought membership but did not reveal his past with the Black Hand.

Equipment:
-Ancient Shrouded Armor
-Ancient Shrouded Boots
-Ancient Shrouded Gloves
-Shrouded Hood (For RP purposes these all look like the Cyrodiilic variant)
-Crimson Eviscerator (Daedric Dagger of the Crimson Scars)
-Ruin's Edge (Daedric Bow)

Playstyle:
Stealth, Archery, Dagger Assassinations

Vampire: Porphyric Hemophilia

» Sat Jun 16, 2012 8:01 am

For the sake of space I'll put his backstory in a spoiler

Spoiler

Name: Kouper, once called The Burly, once called Of Kyne, now called The Hateful

Race: Nord

Kouper was always taller and stronger than the other children his age. Growing up in Cheydinhal he was often out of place among the Dunmer children his age. They teased him for his size and would mock him for being a Nord. Being teased for being tall and strong never really got to him, but when it came to his heritage he felt an especially strong bond.

At the age of twelve one of the older Dunmer children started to make fun of Kouper for being the son of a drunk Nord who clinger to dead gods... Kouper lost it, he may have been 3 years younger than the Dunmer boy, but he was already far faster and stronger. He lunged for the lad, catching him square in the gut with his right fist. The Dunmer boy doubled over, reeling from the sudden unexpected attack. Kouper swung with his left hand, smashing the back of the Dunmer's head. The boy collapsed to the ground, but Kouper's rage had consumed him. He rolled the boy over and started pummeling him, the other children tried to stop Kouper, it wasn't until Kouper was ripped away from his target by an advlt that he regained any sense of his humanity. The Dunmer lived, but Kouper's family was encouraged to leave the city before the city guard took action.

His family moved to Bruma, hoping he'd fit in better. Even in Bruma Kouper was taller than those his age, but he felt more at peace here. His father starte taking him out on long hunting trips, living off the land, and teaching Kouper of the Nord's history. Eventually Kouper realized the traditional guilds wheren't for him. He abandoned his learning and took up life in the woods, he hunted, and ruin-crawled to earn his keep.

Mostly, he sought peace for the rage he felt always hiding just under the surface. While he'd never lost control like when he was a boy, there had been plenty of instances he regretted allowing his blood to boil so. His life in the woods outside of Bruma had been good, and he was grateful his parents had done this for him. But he felt in his heart he'd only find peace in his ancestral homeland of Skyrim.

Not long after he'd crossed the border he met a beautiful young Nordic girl named Amber. Tall, long brown hair she kept braided to her waist. Her eyes where as green as all the forest taken in to two piercing orbs. Her body was lighter than that of many nordic women, but she ran with a speed unsurpassed. She was a priestess of Kyne, maintaining a small shrine outside her family's inn near whiterun. She offered him a job hunting to supply the inn in exchange for Room and board.

The two grew close, whenever he wasn't hunting he could be found at Amber's side, listening to her tell the histories of their people and their gods. Learning new ways to appreciate his surroundings and to tap in to that strength. He had found the peace he sought. He had been living there several years, Amber had taught him how to commune with nature, how to tap into her power and use it. To hunt, to fight, and even to heal. He learned to allow the forest and woodlands to be his guide.

The rain is coming, Kouper could feel it. He longed for it, to feel the very touch of Kyne as he hunted. He always felt like Amber was with him when it rained. But this storm, it felt different, for the first time he felt the need to hide from it. And yet he pushed these feelings off. He could feel the wind pushing him, pulling, urging him to return, and still he pushed on. He had never returned home without meat for The table, and tonight would be no different. Hours went by and still he had found nothing, not even a hint of animals in the forest. It was as if they where all hiding. He longed to return to the inn to be near his betrothed and her family. Allowing himself a single glance to the ridge which hides the inn he saw smoke, lots of smoke.

All at once he could feel his peace slipping away from him. He ran with all the speed of the wind. The very rain itself refusing to drop in his path aiding him along. As he came over the ridge he could see the inn's roof covered in flame. The shrine toppled, and bodies in the street. He could see several bandits muddling about, some seemingly joking and happy about the carnage they wrought. Gone, his peace had left him, the rain was empty and cold to him. He sprinted down the hillside, filled with a rage unlike any other, his skin turned a deep crimson, to match the blood for which he so lusted.

Still at full speed he was at the edge of their small village, his bow drawn he notched an arrow in the throat of the first bandit he saw, an Orc, poor beast hadnt a chance to cry out. Unleashing another arrow Kouper took another Orc off his horse, but the horse bolted towards the other bandits. Alerted to the presence of a would-be hero several bandits rushed towards the lone Nord, all three where Dunmer. Kouper fired one more arrow at his attackers, it narrowly missed. Dropping his bow he ran to meet them head on, drawing from either side his Ebony dagger and Steel longsword. Before they could reach them he flipped the dagger so he was holding it by the tip of the blade raising blade slightly before unleashing it, he watched as time seemed to slow, the blade spinning towards it's target, the Dunmer in front who dared to show his hideous face. His face exposed, swallowed the blade whole just below his left eye. He screamed and collapsed as blood exited the wound.

Kouper raised his longsword with both hands to parry the incoming blow of the second dunmer. The elf raised an axe high above his head in an attempt to cleave Kouper in two. Too slow, the elf was far too slow as Kouper's sword struck his midsection, the blade pushed straight through in it's broad arc across the poor fool. As his two halves fell the Dunmer's face lost all expression.

The third attacker suddenly felt as if he no longer had the advantage, this Nord had struck down two of his friends without slowing down. The elf dropped his sword and shield, putting both hands together he began to conjure a spell, a rift in reality opened behind him, a flash of light and two Atronachs had climbed out. They could sense their masters fear and immediately began to lunge towards this would be attacker.

Kouper's rage only grew stronger. These bastards, who attacked his home, his friends, dared to invite beasts of Oblivion here? He pointed his free hand towards the Dunmer conjuror, a small point of light reaching from his hand to the conjuror's forehead. All at once the rain stopped, the sky lit up as a tremendous bolt of lightning shot straight through the conjuror's body, the ground around him exploding under the force of the blast. The Atronachs where also caught in the blast, being torn apart, and spread upon the ground.

This display had terrified two of the three remaining bandits who abandoned their cause. Kouper spied the leader, yet another Dunmer. He also saw her, tied Up and ready to be taken away. His rage intensified, as if he could lose himself any further. The storm intensified as well, the sound of the pounding drops drowning out all else, the rain distorting everything into a twisted version of itself. But even still Kouper Recognized this one.

"Garyn! Garyn Hlaalu!" he shouted, the dunmer winced at hearing his own name, suddenly the memory of being a young boy beat nearly to death swept over him. He hurredly tried to place the captured priestess onto his horse. A splash of lightning nearby startled the beast as it ran off with his prize. He had to fight. Garyn could barely make out the form of his foe against the pounding rain. The fires he'd started had been quenched and night had drowned out the day. He steeled his mind to the task at hand and began firing waves of flame into the darkness. Blast after blast, walls of fire lighting up the night as Garyn fought this phantom of his past.

Finally Garyn spotted the beastly Nord. He placed both hands together as he unleashed every ounce of power he could, an enormous stream of flame sprayed forth to engulf it's target. "FUS" the very storm was pushed back by this phrase. A blast of energy pushed through the flame separating it and the storm, it blew Garyn straight through the wall of the inn. He looked up and could clearly see the enraged Nord, the rain had stopped, the sky had again darkened and hope was dead.

Kouper calmly placed his right hand on Garyns face, focusing on the air around his hand Kouper began to freeze air around it. Garyn screamed at first, but as his skin froze the screams slowly dropped to whimpers, and at the end soft cries. Silence. Kouper looked at the frozen husk in front of him, this husk had taken his peace from him. He swung as hard as he could, his fist shattering the corpse of Garyn Hlaalu of Cheydinhal.

Kouper awoke a couple days later, shackles on his wrists and ankles and his arms behind his back. He stared out through the bars of his carriage watching the world pass him by. He didn't care he'd lost everything, whatever the guards thought he did didn't matter. He could barely remember what happened that night. How did he stop that stream of flame, he remembered the heat of it, like he was going to roast alive, but somehow he was able to protect himself and disable Garyn.... Amber! He remembered seeing her tied up... But not moving. Everyone else he saw was dead.

"whatever you do with me, make it quick, in death I may again find peace" Kouper said to the driver of the carriage.

Playstyle-A focus on my dual blades and Bow with some light elemental magic and the occasional shout. Not terribly sneaky and never one to shy away from a fight. Tries to not cause problems, certain taunts and insults may lead to rage and assault. On such occasions, will yield to guards and accept his punishment. Not remotely interested in the thieves guild or Dark Brotherhood. Has joined the companions and Bard's college.

I've got a second character I'm working on, but she will get made once I learn how to mod. I want to try and create something a little different for her.

Best post to date on this topic, really well put together back story and a good understanding on how to implement it to your gameplay and playng style.
Can't wait to see what else you come up with :biggrin:

» Sat Jun 16, 2012 3:36 pm

My new character:

Name: Dhark Mzahnch the Dwemer
Race: Male Dwemer (Actually a High Elf with a beard)
Apperance: Tan skin, short black hair with a beard and a scar on his left side of his face.
Playstyle: Heavy Armor warrior. Shield and one-handed weapon
Gear: Dwemer Champion Armor (Standard Dwarven Armor), Sword of the Dwemer (Dwarven Sword), and Falmer's Bane (Dwarven War Axe)

Background: A Champion of the Dwemer, that once lived in Markarth before the Dwemer disappeared. He fought the Falmer in the War of the Crag and the Falmer hated him so much that they made a pact with a Daedric Prince to do something about him before they became the monsters they are today. So for the last few thousand years Dhark was trapped in a realm of Oblivion. The Prince of the realm extended Dhark's life to tortue him. Eventually Dhark escaped back into Tamriel into the middle of the capture of Ulfric Stormcloak. The Imperial forces thought Dhark was just a High Elf trying to get across the border. After the events of Helgen, Dhark traveled to Markarth to find his family and race gone ( He didn't know that they disappeared). Now Dhark roams Skyrim looking for clues to what happend to his race and killing the remants of the Falmer.

Personality: Grim, uncaring and sometimes he becomes very depressed over the lose of his race. He looks down on most of the races. He hates the High Elves and their attitude towards the other races. The only living Elven race that he does not hate are the Orcs because of the prowess in combat and their skill at making armor and weapons. He ignores the rest of the races thinking of them no better than children that do not know anything. He has a deep hatred for the Daedric Princes because of his time in Oblivion.

» Sat Jun 16, 2012 11:19 am

Name: Riden Ulvena
Race: Dark Elf
Level: 35 (right now)

Gear:
- Blades Katana with fire damage and slightly higher damage
- Blade of Woe
- Finriel's End
- Armor: http://static.skyrim.nexusmods.com/mods/images/5696-1-1327744467.jpg. It's the Shrouded Black Sacrament Armor (no skull pendant) with skill, health, and stamina upgrade enchantments. In towns, I keep the armor but without the hood or cowl to make myself look more presentable.

Skills:
- One-Handed at 100 with all ranks of Armsman, all ranks of Bladesman, and the left path all the way up to Paralyzing Strike.
- Archery at 70 something. Low focus. Only both ranks of Steady Aim and the basic necessities of getting there
- Sneak maxed out except for Shadow Warrior and the first perk is only up to rank 3
- Alchemy up to Experimenter (all three ranks). All perks up the right side are maxed out to Experimenter
- Planning on investing into Light Armor soon

Play Style:
- Careful, tactical play. Inside dungeons or rooms, I play the defensive, sneaking around if I can and using the noise from arrows to make sentries move from their routine.
- In the open, I go full warrior with no shield. I use Shouts a lot against crowds for crowd control. But if I can help it, I try to engage in guerrilla warfare with my bow.
- In fights, I try to divide up my targets into easily manageable chunks and use Shouts to disable archers.

Background:
Riden was born in the Ulvena family, a class of assassins, warriors, and healers. The Ulvena family's fame was fairly well known amongst the elite class as the biggest threat to them. They had the people's love and Riden's father, the patriarch of the Ulvena family, was also known as a very sophisticated and intelligent leader.

In reality, the Ulvena patriarch and matriarch were both vampires, both of them being former members of the Cheydinhal Brotherhood sanctuary. However, to escape the prying eyes of vampire hunters, they were planning on disappearing 50 years after Riden was born.

As a child, Riden was groomed to lead the Ulvena family. He was taught various fighting styles, focusing heavily on the Dark Brotherhood's style of combat. However, Riden had a sense of rebellion during his earlier years and ran from the family stronghold many times, learning from the local alchemist and witchdoctors. His father left him to his accords until Riden's 16th birthday when his illegitimate sister, Delani, was born.

Through the years, Delani and Riden build a strong sibling bond. But another 16 years later, the enemies of the Ulvena family in conjunction with both the Vigilant of Stendarr and the Thalmor had Riden's parents killed for being vampires and the stronghold burned. Delani and Riden fled to Cyrodiil and found themselves on the front lines of the Great War.

Riden fought for the Legion, learning herbal techniques along the way. After the war, Riden found Delani gone from Cyrodiil. From there, Riden laid down his blade and started to look for information as to her whereabouts. One of his comrades told him to check Skyrim and Riden went there, only to be lead into a trap by the Ulvena enemies.