» Wed Jun 13, 2012 1:15 pm
It's a long background, so be forewarned... I've tried to tie a lot of the background to the game; it's still a work in progress, and I add more to the story as it comes to me. This has really helped with my re-start-itis - this is my first of many attempted characters ever to get past level 30...currently lvl 48 and haven't started MQ yet...deep into aThieves Guild quests though.
Name: Y'ffre Dovahkiin
Race: Breton
Erik and Elara fell in love as children, both citizens of the Breton-ruled city of Markarth. Erik was of Nordic descent, and grew up studying the martial arts of war; Elara, a Breton schooled in the arts of Illusion and Conjuration, demonstrated great talent at a young age.
After marrying Erik (a somewhat contentious union, as Elara had been betrothed to a Breton noble), the couple fled The Western Reach, striking west into High Rock and toward the city of Daggerfall.
Elara, by this time an accomplished mage, quickly gained renown in the region and was invited to become Apprentice to the Court Wizard of Daggerfall. Erik and Elara were invited to take up residence in Castle Daggerfall. While Elara studied vigorously, Erik was granted royal license to hunt the King's forests. Due to his prowess with bow and blade, Erik soon earned the title of Huntsman, and he was enlisted to lead the At-Force hunts for bear and wild boar.
Within a few short years, the couple welcomed the birth of their first child. Elara - in honor of both her's and Erik's heritage - named their son Y'ffre, after the Breton God of the Forest.
Years passed... Y'ffre was raised amongst nobility, privileged but not royalty; although his family enjoyed an honored status within Castle Daggerfall, it was always with the knowledge that their status was fragile.
In Y'ffre's 10th year, the Court Wizard uncovered, and diverted, an assassination attempt against the King. Elara was implicated as being solely responsible, and the Court Wizard claimed to have evidence of her treason. Unable to defend herself in the face of her mentor's carefully contrived "evidence," Elara was sentenced to death; however, before her execution was to be carried out, the King decreed that she would first bear witness as Y'ffre and Erik were tortured and stoned.
As the King's sentence was about to be carried out, Elara cast an illusion far more intricate and powerful than anyone - including the Court Wizard - could have imagined; in fact, the Court Wizard believed that he had subverted Elara's abilities, dampening them to point of non-existence. He did not believe her to be a threat to the King's will. Elara's illusion provided the opportunity for Erik and Y'ffre to escape - an opportunity that Elara compelled both to take. Drained to the point of exhaustion, her act of defiance a victory, Elara was executed - and the hunt began for Erik and Y'ffre.
Whilst fleeing from High Rock, Erik continued to teach his son the ways of the hunter. Y'ffre honed his ability with a bow, and grew stronger by the day. Erik taught his son how to use the world around him - the plants, the animals - to brew medicines and salves. Though Y'ffre remembered much that his mother had taught him, much was also forgotten through lack of practice. His father was now his world, and his wisdom was the key to his survival.
Erik imparted the tales of his past, of his culture and heritage. As the two set their compass for the Western Reach, Y'ffre eagerly listened to to the stories of his ancestors.
Upon crossing the border into Skyrim, Y'ffre and his father were accosted by Imperial soldiers. Thinking the ragged looking pair to be Forsworn, the Imperials attacked. Though outnumbered, Erik and Y'ffre did not submit; rather, they tore through their assailants until two remained. Y'ffre, finally, was outmatched, and Erik gave his dying breath to intercept a killing blow.
Y'ffre fled, using his father's many tricks of camouflage and concealment in order to become one with the night and the underbrush. When the soldiers had given up the search, Y'ffre returned to bury his father. After blessing his fatherin the name of Talos, Y'ffre claimed the last link to his heritage that his father had possessed, "The Book of the Dragonborn." Erik had never explained the tome's significance, though Y'ffre had inquired almost daily. Fearing for his future, and for the safety of this vestige of his forefathers, Y'ffre buried the book beneath a landmark tree near the Skyrim border.
With weighted steps, Y'ffre made for Markarth - and found a city in the midst of turmoil. Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak had recently overturned, and routed, the ruling aristocracy. With hopes of finding family, Y'ffre was instead met with blood-stained streets and piercing glares. However, Y'ffre continued his search of the city - sleeping in the Warrens, and chasing long cold trails during the day. His many inquiries attracted the attention of the new ruling party, and in the early hours of an ill-fated morning, Y'ffre was assaulted and abducted - carried from the Warrens and out of Markarth.
When Y'ffre next opened his eyes, his limbs were bound and his mouth gagged. He felt the cold stone floor of a bare cell beneath him. Looking to his left, Y'ffre's eyes met those of another boy, bound much as himself, and perhaps 2 years his elder. The boy, Xerces, revealed to Y'ffre that they lay in the basemant of Riften's orphanage - and that he had taken his meals in the cell for more days than he could count.
Y'ffre and Xerces remained in their cells for two more days and nights before met by their jailer; Grelod the Kind, as she referred to herself, greeted her prisoners with the searing pain of lightning. As she wielded her Staff of Arcing, she shared her philosophy of child-rearing: All children must be broken of their bad habits before they can be fixed; in pain, we are pure, in pain we are forged anew.
Grelod the Kind took a particularly keen interest in Y'ffre's cleansing, as his Breton blood provided him a measure of resistance to her staff. Purifying Y'ffre required that Grelod think creatively, expanding the boundaries of her gift. And Y'ffre truly acknowledged Grelod's gift - the simplest of instruments could produce the most excruciating pain in Grelod's hands; furthermore, she seemed attuned, without fail, to Death's approach. With this grim foresight, Grelod ushered in Death, and pulled Y'ffre from His grasp countless times; hewas cleansed, and then healed, for weeks on end until Grelod finally declared him pure.
Y'ffre was dragged to the Common Room, and roughly dropped into the bed next to Xerces. The orphans of Honorhall - all of whom were "cleansed" much as Y'ffre - welcomed him into their family. And for five years, Y'ffre lived in a constant state of vigilance. The sound of Grelod's laughter crippled him in his waking hours, and her jagged grimace haunted his sleep.
When Xerces came of age at 16, he was released from Grelod's dark guardianship; before departing, he bade Y'ffre to find him in Windhelm. Xerces planned on appealing to old friends of his father's, the Aretino's, for employment while he studied magic - for which he had secretly discovered an aptitude.
In Y'ffre's 15th year, in the early hours of a bitter Heartfire morning, Grelod the Kind was approached by a cloaked Khajiit with an interesting proposition. The Khajiit offered Grelod a large sum of Septims in exchange for an able-bodied young man. Grelod volunteered Y'ffre without hesitation - not because she found the Septims tempting, nor because she considered him strong or capable, but because it ensured that Y'ffre would be denied freedom beyond his 16th year.
That very day, Y'ffre left Honorhall, shackled to a carriage bench, the newest member of a Khajiit caravan. It soon became obvious to Y'ffre that this was not the typical Khajiit merchant caravan that he remembered from his youth, but rather a caravan of thieves masquerading as merchants.
The Khajiit reasoned that, in purchasing an orphan, a human without strong ties to his people or his land, they could indoctrinate him - the Khajiit could train him as a thief, and use him as an inconspicuous accomplice to their cause. And if this failed, they could be rid of him without concerns for retribution.
Y'ffre recognized his tenuous place within the caravan, and fully embraced his training. He rediscovered his aptitude for the bow, and learned to step quickly and quietly, melding into the nighttime shadows and dark corners of lighted rooms.
Y'ffre earned the trust of the Khajiit after many months and found that, though he was initially biding his time while awaiting an opportunity to escape, he had grown content. He appreciated the sense of camaraderie amongst the thieves, and took enjoyment from such simple things as breaking bread with the caravan. It was a familiar sense of contentment and belonging, though one he had not felt in a long while. Although he had formed bonds with Xerces and many of the orphans of Honorhall, they were bonds forged in fear and subversion. His ties to the Khajiit grew from a mutual respect, and the acceptance he earned was almost familial in its nature. One year from the day of his enslavement, the caravan elders offered Y'ffre his freedom, however Y'ffre chose to remain with the caravan. He had found a home.
Y'ffre distrusts Court Wizards and Jarls/Kings - he does not readily bow to their demands.
Y'ffre sides with the Forsworn, who are the remnants of his parents' people.
Does not trust Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, as he routed his people from Markarth, and is ethnocentric.
Y'ffre has an easy way with Khajiit, and sympathizes with their plight in Skyrim.
Hates the Thalmor, who wiped out the Khajiit caravan that Y'ffre lived and travelled with.
Sought out the Thieves Guild in hopes of recapturing lost sense of camaraderie and family.
Enjoys the thrill of thieving; initially a means of survival, it became rewarding as his successes increased his worth to the caravan.
Does not kill if unprovoked, with the exception of bandits, in which case it's kill or be killed.
Y'ffre has strong protective instincts for those whom he considers friends/family.
Y'ffre has always sensed that his life has been manipulated; that those around him have all been taken from him, and he has been left alone to move onward. He entertains the hope that there is some greater reason for this - a purpose for him...
), he also likes to mine up ore (he says it's "relaxing"...there's nothing written about tastes I guess), and to pick up any iron ore he can and transmute them up into gold ingots. He also loves a good bath in the hotsprings before some good sleep time and, of course, the three essentials every true Nord likes: To Eat (and to eat WELL), To Drink (also WELL) and To Fight (..a good fight, of course:D ).
