If you are like me, you usually give your character a back story before you make them and think about what their personality is like. i would be interested to hear about your character's story and personality. i might even get some ideas for new characters from you guys sience i have been running out of creativity lately, here are some things that should get you guys started- what is your character's personality? what race is he/she? how did they get to skyrim? have they lived in skyrim all their lives? are they a decendent of someone important? what was their childhood like?

^ I used this to explain my character doing everything possible.

I love these threads.

Eckoure (Breton)
Blind since birth, Eckoure has been somewhat protected by his parents. He lived with them in Kvatch (rebuilt around 4e 171; the start of the Great War). In an act of rebellion, he trained his other senses throughout his younger years and later began training with weapons. He became an adept archer and a competent swordsman. By his late teens, his father had relented and allowed him to come along on hunting trips. He hunted as hobby as he worked his way around Cyrodill trying to gain membership to various guilds, to no avail due to his apparent handicap. After many years, he decided to try his luck in Skyrim, especially after hearing about the hunting prospects.

Eckoure made his way across the border only to find himself witnessing a mass arrest. He kept himself hidden and made his way to the nearest settlement that wasn't near those that were arrested; Riverwood. (I played the Helgen attack as a formality, but ignored it as part of his story). Shortly after making it to Riverwood, a dragon flew overhead and out over the Barrow. A little while later, and Imperial showed up; Hadvar. Eckoure volunteered to take the message to Whiterun (and the quests that followed.) After defeatin his first dragon, he heard the call of he Grey Beards. He did not heed the call but instead made his way to Solitude at the behest of Hadvar. At last he caught a break. He hunted between assignments so as to keep his skills sharp.

During his time with the Imperial Legion, whilst on assignment to pose as a Stormcloak in Dawnstar (I forget what I had to deliver), he was chased from there pratically to whiterun by a giant. This has caused Eckoure to suffer from Gigantasophobia (fear of giants). After helping the legion take over Skyrim Eckoure made his way to Whitrun where he proved himself to the Companions. During his time with the Companions, he started feeling himself drawn to High Hrothgar and would stare up at it from the gates of Whiterun (I think it's cool that you can see HH from Whiterun, lol). Even though he is blind, he never failed to look in the right direction; evidence that the pull was getting strong.

After he finished with the Companions, he returned home to Proudspire Manor in Solitude, far away from High Hrothgar and the pull he was feeling. Retired from both the Legion and Companions, he now works as a blacksmith making weapons and armour (which he sells in bulk or complete sets) around Skyrim. The pull he feels towards High Hrothgar is steadily getting stronger.

That's his story so far, and I still have two more characters with stories to go. I'll post them later.

ok so mine goes something like this , its not as good as some others but here we go .

Nesharna (Dunmer)
gifted since childhood she has always had an extreme talent for magic , why at 8 she brought the dead back to life scaring the local city folk of Necrom where she was born in Morrowind , no one knows how she was born with such amazing talents some say her mother gave them to her and her mother is of house Indoril but her father's identity remains unknown, so there has always been a shame and stigma within her community and of the noble house holds about her, many would look upon on her with discust and jealousy .
within the walls of Necrom she grew stronger and more powerful , at 16 she defeated her teacher in arcane combat using a unique form of destruction, the other priests looked on in worry fearing that they had created something too powerful too fast .

At 18 she was accepted into the priesthood of Azura where she found the belonging she always wished for a family she never had .
however the day everything turned bad on her 22 birthday was they day she killed the high priest of Azura , and what many didnt know was that the high priest..... was a rapist .
that day After trying to force himself on Nesharna she found herself free of his grasp and struck him down with everything she knew in her magical ability.
looking across the the hall of Azura beneath the large statue lied the tattered remains of what was left of the high priest , she fell to the ground in tears .
from behind her In walked in the other circle of priests all 11 of them , they stood in horror and shock looking at the lifeless remains of there leader , out of rage and confusion from what just happend the priest joined together and removed Nesharna of all her powers she had obtained over the years , Nesharna cried out to Azura ...but there was nothing . lying on the ground she wept and out of the haze a priest stepped forward pulling a dagger from his sheath to end her life, Nesharna ran from the temple in fear with bolts of lightning tearing behind her .

one weak later
she arrived at Vivec noticing wanted posters up everywhere with her face on them she new she could not stay, word had spread fast it seemed .
she made her way west across the great estuary of morrowind 3 days later, she knew her only refuge now would be in another nation another land .

a new land appeared in the distance .....a land of wind and ice
SKYRIM!!!!
while crossing the border she was captuered by imperials but later escaped due to a dragon attack .
On her way through riverwood she heard of a college that teaches magic and so she many weeks later she joined .
nesharna became later on as the months past the arch mage and pusrued to establish herself with other brotherhoods throughout skyrim becoming the Listener of the dark brotherhood , and a Nightingale of the thieves guild she has also established herself as a thane in many cities gaining... well a presence in skyrim society
now as the leader of 3 guilds she is seeking to strengthen the relationships between them even more.
she has become a powerful sorceress and leader and many are watching there backs now.

thats kinda her story ... im a bad story teller and my grammar is crap hehe but i like these things

My character (Nord male) has amnesia. He can only remember the execution and events after it.. He is plagued by visions of things he hasn't yet done (explains the lockups) and frequently has out of body experiences (explains forced third person view remaining a number of times throughout the game, such as after a cinematic kill on a Sabre Cat)..

That said I believe he was a simple Nord raised on a small farm near the Jerall mountains (Skryim side). He chopped wood as a boy for his father and mother (which is why he finds it so peaceful doing so now) and listened to his fathers ancient stories of Nord heroes at night around a campfire. His family were loyal to the Imperials (a decision he modelled when fighting for them in the Civil War, which he later regretted deeply). When his mother died, several years after his father, he decided to travel to the Imperial City and make something of himself, however he got lost and stumbled into a skirmish between Imperial and Stormcloak troops, he recieved a blow to the head and lost all his memory.

His farm work as a youth gave him great strength, and his honest father and mother instilled good, noble values within him, he fights for right and justice and respects the law. He respects the worship of Talos and believes the Empire was wrong to outlaw it, he worshipped Talos frequently for a while but has since switched to worshipping Kynareth, he still pays his respects to Talos whenever he comes across a shrine (though does not recieve blessing from it).

My Nord (Wolfgang) was born and raised in Skyrim. His family had planned to move to Cyrodil to avoid the Civil War, shortly after crossing the border he got into an argument with his parents about leaving Skyrim and he ran off fuming, he returned hours later to see his family massacred and a falmer arrow in the woods, he returned to Skyrim to bury his family only to be intercepted by an Imperial patrol...

He has always had an affection for wolves, once playing with a wolf cub when he was just a boy, the playing got a bit rough and the cub accidentally scarred Wolfgang's face, a scar he still has today. He's always been interested in the tale's of dragons as well, remembering fond moments by the fire listening to story tellers.

I haven't really fleshed out a full background, just some general points, one day I plan to sit down and REALLY think about a background for Wolfgang. OR I might make a new character where I will more strictly role-play then I did with Wolfgang.

Wolfgang is a compassionate person and does what he can to help everyone he meets, he does his best to avoid killing wildlife (especially wolves) usually using the power of his shouts to calm the beasts before he is forced to kill them. He has no mercy for bandits or Falmer. He doesn't regard people who choose to hurt others for the sake of material things as on the same level as other men, and after having his family slaughtered by Falmer he makes it his only goal to destroy every Falmer he sees...it only helps that they murder everything in their path, giving him even more reason to bring unholy reckoning on them.

Decendant of my CoC Tynan, Tynon was born in High Rock, Daggerfall to be specific, in a minor noble family. He was trained in the usage of restoration and martail combat. When he became older he started to use his skills for adventuring. After earning some fame he was contacted by another noble and assked to ertrieve something. He discovered that it was smuggled goods and delievered it to the guards.
The noble got a bit angry on him and Tynon was forced to flee to Cyrodiil.
A few months later he decided he wanted to go to Skyrim to start over.

I have remade the character a couple of sime since I wasn't happy about him. At first he was a Breton and now I decided to make him a Nord. His family have both Breton and Nord blood.

Darq'Raze is the descendant of a Khajiit Thief of the same name who lived during the Oblivion Crisis. Much like his great (x3) grandfather he is a master of Illusion and Stealth. His ancestor was born and raised in Cyrodiil and was a member of the Thieve's Guild and even a competitor in the Imperial City Arena. Though he never made it to champion he did steal the Rainment of the Champion who bested the Gray Prince. He was a top thief working for the Gray Fox, but once the Oblivion Crisis ended he went to Elsweyr to start a family. 170 years later his descendant moved back to Cyrodiil and raised a child whom was named Darq'Raze after his great ancestor. When he came of age he joined the Thieve's Guild just as his ancestor had. He became quite famous and eventually was hunted by the Thalmor for stealing some valuable artifacts of magical significance. He hid the goods and fled north to Skyrim where he was caught by the Imperials and was witness to Ulfric Stormcloak and the Dovahkiin's escape from Helgen. After barely escaping with his fur intact he travelled with the Khajiit Caravans for a while until a stop in Riften brought him to Skyrim's Thieve's Guild which he promptly joined. After hundreds of successful robberies he married a Khajiit Pirate and joined a crew of marauding swashbucklers, using his connections with the Thieve's Guild and his Guile to become exceptionally wealthy...and so now he sails around the provinces with his crew and his gold

Raksad'a, he's a Khajit who has been forced from his homeland from his place as leader of a Khajit holdfast, by an unscrupulous second in command. This has made him determined to succeed and to come out on top, whatever it is. So he runs the companions, the thieves guild, the DB, and is getting ready take on the Mages guild to prove that he can take on anything. He will destroy anyone who stops him, anyone who opposes him will be killed. He does however believe in the law, and paying for your crimes, which meant that his reasoning for joining the DB and the Thieves was that anything illegal he did he would gladly pay for if found to be guilty. He couldn't pass up the challenge of taking back these organisations. Ruling these organisations...he controls almost everything. What's more, he's even faced off against Alduin and Ulfric Stormcloak, so neither beast nor man can stop him.

He's also a Bad Ass Mo' Fo'.

Arinbjorn is the 17th son of the main branch of the Brondolf clan, a royal family who has ruled the united realms of Solstheim and Lokken long since the days of their most famous ancestor: Benrahir Brondolf, out in the days where the Nerevarine still roamed the lands of Morrowind. His childhood days in Solstheim Kings' Castle (located on an island north of the Skaal village) were filled with happiness and lack of any worries, which allowed him to concentrate on training in combat basics with Heavy Armor and sword-shield, and studying in the magical arts of Restoration, Alteration and Mysticism, schools which all of the Brondolf members are naturally talented (especially with Sealing and Teleportation magic). But being the late son of a royal family didn't had any benefits in terms of heritage, so Arinbjorn decided to leave Solstheim and his family, and to look out for his fortune elsewhere.

He didn't leave with empty hands, though. Before parting ways, it was given to him a valuable family heirloom: a magical Bag with an infinite Holding capacity, filled with his favourite armor and equipment, a nicely forged sword, and some gold. With the blessings of his family, Arinbjorn left Solstheim and reached Skyrim, following word of the Stormcloak Rebellion. Feeling sympathy for the Stormcloaks, he began to "unofficially" help them as much as he could. But things went bad when he went to help a small group that fell into an Imperial ambush. In the middle of the battle, and preventing the disastrous outcome, Arinbjorn's last act was to magically seal his Bag, making it vanish and transform into a mere tattoo in his right arm -"In the case I'm killed", -he thought-, "at least the Bag and all which is inside of it will teleport back to Solstheim". His sword, equipment and armor were sealed inside of it as well (as they were magically linked to the Bag), along with all the valuables he picked up along the way, leaving him effectively naked in the middle of a sea of enemies. "It's for the best" -he thought- "That armor and weapon can't fall in hands of the enemy, they're far too valuable for that....but how shameful...how shameful for a heir of the great Benrahir...to die naked".

Not a minute too soon he did that, because a few seconds after, he was knocked unconscious.

Antonius (Imperial)
A successful gladiator in the arena in Cyrodiil fighting many matches and never losing he lived the life revered and loved by the empire. He was naturally gifted at fighting, but when the thalmor invaded , knowing that they will kill anyone they know is stronger than them he decided to leave Cyrodiil and move on to a new home. Having no family he only took his sword. When he crossed the border to skyrim he heard fighting, his first call to honor he thought. Charging in twenty archers aimed their bows and yelled Stop right there Stormcloak. Confused Antonius surrendered to the empire His empire. Forced to ride to his death, his empire betrayed him. The Gladiator would soon either help his beloved empire. Or destroy it. But He would love to kill a few dragons on the way.

this is the back story to character im planning for an upcoming play through

When I was born I was promised to the dark brotherhood and to be trained as an assassin. For many years I trained till the time came when I had to prove myself worthy. I was sent to kill my first target, an ex-imperial captain who fought in the Great War. He lived in a cabin out in the woods alone; an easy kill. Tracking him like a predator, I searched the forest until the night fell upon it like a cold blanket. Finally, I found him. He was sitting by a fire outside his shack alone: this was it. As I crept close I saw his sad face. He had beaten eyes, looking into the fire as if it were a past lover. I kept creeping, like wolf stalking its prey, stepping ever closer. It was until I was but a few lounges away that he suddenly turned his head in my direction and we locked eyes. I was frozen, not knowing what to do. But his stare was apathetic, as if accepting his fate. So I walked out of the shrubs and knelt before him in stared into his apathetic eyes and whispered “…sorry”. Then I sank my blade into his neck. I laid his body in a respectful position next to the fire, and started to walk away. Thinking my task was done, suddenly I heard a noise come from the cabin. And my eyes were met with two more eyes that mirrored the old soldiers


She stood there staring at me with those eyes, those soul piercing eyes. Her long brown hair lay against her fair white face. She then looked over at the corpse that lay where the man used to be. And by the time she looked back my way I had disappeared from her sight. From behind a tree I watched her as she ran over to the man. She knelt by his body and sobbed for moment realizing that the eyes she had met before were the eyes of his killer. She then stood up with vigor in her body, and shouted towards the forest in pain, and I felt her plea in my soul.


When I returned home, my masters could tell I was not the same young argonian I was when I had left. And they warned me that such feelings were normal after the first kill and that my emotions would fade as my victims grew. I did not want that. It was these very same emotions that made me feel as if I wasn’t simply a monster taking lives at the will of another. Many nights I lost sleep to those eyes, her pain. After many moons past, I came to the conclusion that I could not live this life and I decided that it was time for me to leave. I packed up my few belongings and silently crept out. I was the gate ready to leave this life, and took one more look back. Surprisingly I saw the figure of one of my masters there with his eyes fixed on me. I expected him to try and stop me be as he stared and simply brought his finger to his lips and I nodded back with gratitude. Then I left, never to see this life again.


I went back out into that forest and found the same shack that had changed my life. The same girl was there sitting outside her door by the very same fire that had once burned all those nights before. I took a deep breath and walked into her view, with my head down. I then briefly look up and we caught each other’s gaze. Like a volcano she erupted into anger and she grabbed a woodcutting axe and raised it towards me in self-defense. I took a few more steps to her, and dropped to my knees. She looked surprised, and then I laid out a purple flower for her. Her eyes burning bright, she grasped the handle tighter in her hands and then she ran for my head. I didn’t move accepting my fate, and right before the blade from the axe sliced through my neck, she stopped with it resting against my skin. I looked up at her, and she had tears in her eyes, fury on her face. As I stood up, I grasped her in my arms.


I stayed with her for a while, never letting her too far out of my sights. We would hunt together, as she was well practiced with her bow, not as much as me, but still very skilled. Life was good until one day when we were out hunting and we ran into a group of imperial soldiers. Drunk, loud, and lonely, we could hear them confessing and joking about some of the most disgraceful things they have done. I looked to her, and she at me and we nodded as we decided it was time to go. We turned around ready to leave when we were both over powered and knocked unconscious.


My consciousness faded in and out for the next several days. And each and every night I could hear her cries from the other tents. Each night a different tent, I could hear her weep, and yet the chains that bound me prevented me from doing anything to rescuing her. Every time I gained any sort of consciousness one of the soldiers would stare at me and yell at me asking who I was and if I was a spy for the stormcloaks, or thalmor. And every time I would muster out a “no” but his was not the answer he was after and he would just hit me again and again. And her cries would continue. Finally, one day they pulled me from my tent, and out in the middle of their camp. As I laid there on the ground in pain, blurry vision emaciated, they pulled her out too. They hoisted her up on to a tree stomp and held her down to it. I just laid there on the ground with blurry eyes looking up to her, she looked back at me, with those same beaten eyes, and she stared at me apathy, accepting her fate. Then in one motion the soldier standing above her, too the life away from her. Her limp body falling to the ground, I could do nothing but weep. I was weak. They then lifted me up, and placed me on the stump. As my head laid there on that old dead tree, I felt the same apathy that the old soldier and girl felt. And yet, when I looked up at the soldiers standing above me I felt nothing but anger, pure fiery anger, and it was at this point that I let my bodily urges to live and not accept death take over.


In one quick motion my legs slid out from underneath me and knocked down the man holding me down. I quickly pull out his knife and slash the neck of the headsman. Then turn back to the man on the ground and stab him in the back of the head severing his spine. Then like a dancer I jump over to the two other spectating soldiers and plunged the knife into one’s heart, and the others side. Then I turn my attention to the captain the one who tortured both my body and mind. He stared back at me with terrified eyes, afraid to reach for his sword. All he could do is whisper,” Who are you?” and i replied with a quick slash to his face and a stab to his stomach. And as he lay on the ground clinging to his last breaths, I knelt down to him and whispered, “shhh, go to sithis now.”

(Events of the attack at Helgen)

Arinbjorn slowly wake up, and he realized many things...first, that he was dressed with some stinking rags, second, that he couldn't move his arms and third, that he was, in fact, being moved against his will. He was in a cart with some other Stormcloak soldier, a petty thief, and another tighly tied (even more than him) man. As he was slowly recovering his senses after the hit that left him unconscious, he was informed that they were captured by the Imperials, and that they were being driven to Helgen for their death penalties. But as soon as the headsman' axe was going to fall into his neck, a dragon attacked the town. A dragon. Arinbjorn and his Stormcloak buddy barely managed to run and reach a safety zone, and escape from the monster.

"We barely managed it" -Ralof said. That was Arin's partner name- "Come here, I'll untie you".

As soon as he reclaimed freedom, Arin's spirits (which was pretty down after being captured) recovered his normal optimism. He took some moments to relax and breathe, despite the battle sounds and the roars of that flying demon that could be clearly heared.

"Come now, we have to leave, before the dragon finds some way to kill us!"

"Just a moment" -Arin replied-, "I've to get my equipment back".

"Get it back? From wh...?"

Before Ralof could end his phrase, Arin touched the tattoo of his right arm with a drop of his blood (he was pretty scarred, so he hadn't any problem in order to get some), and slammed his hand into the ground. A tiny, almost molecular-sized bag then appeared, which grew bigger and bigger as he lifted his hand, until it reached nearly half the size of Arinbjorn himself.

Ralof was deadly surprised by that amazing feat. "What was...that??" -he asked-.

Arinbjorn smiled with satisfaction and a bit of pride, as he opened the Bag and grabbed his sword. "It's magic. And with it, and this" -he grabbed the pummel of his sword even tigher-, "we're gonna give hell to those Imperials!".

The duo opened the exiting gate, both wondering what they would find outside, and what destiny would hold for them...

Am I the only one who likes to play as myself ? Or a character as close to myself as is possible. I'm not really one for roleplaying, I enjoy it but when I can create myself in a game like Skyrim (and my character actually REALLY looks like me in Skyrim) then I do.

I have a me character

Aradal, descendant of the Divine Crusader, follows in his forefather's footsteps as a righteous Paladin and Knight of the Nine.

Aradal was a hero among the imperial forces in the Great War, healing troops and raining down judgement on the enemy. He was believed to have been killed, which explains why he was captured with Ulfric and about to be executed. His strong sense of justice and witty humor make him popular among the commoners in Skyrim.

His faith and strength in arms make him quite powerful, and with his Dragonborn blood, ancestral powers, and Shezarrine spirit, it is looking likely that he will mantle Talos and usher in a new golden age for Tamriel.

My Altmer mage was a courtier at the court of the High-King of Alinor until the monarchies of the Altmer were overthrown by the Thalmor. He was exiled along with some of his household to the mainland, where he enjoyed a relatively comfortable existence, mostly in Cyrodiil and Morrowind. When the Great War came, he led a small detachment of mer fighting for the Aldmeri Dominion (hoping to return to favour and Alinor), but was disgusted by the slaughter. He was captured by Imperial forces crossing the border into Skyrim, with Dwemer artifacts in his possession and was sentenced to death...

He is generally pleasant, though does consider most other races beneath him. He is never rude to people's faces, far too well-bred for that. Good sense of humour and a love of the finer things in life. He enjoys travelling with his good friend and bodyguard Jenassa. He is very conflicted about the Thalmor, believes in elven rule/return to the Mythic, but not with their methods.

Mine really likes the Lusty Argonian maid, volume 2. It gives a two-hand skill increase. :3

My Argonian felt like hitting the ale hard one night. After a few (50+) bottles, not even her body's natural resistance to such substances was enough to keep the situation at bay and she started hitting on other things as well. Other drunks at first. Then on the barkeeper. Then on Farkas who happened to be in the pub that night. Or was that Vilkas? She couldn't really tell them apart even while she was sober. Not like that happened a lot of times but still. She briefly remembers leaning on a table at some point, knocking off several glasses of honey mead, and telling Erandur that the will of Mara demands him to bed her. Or maybe she just imagined that one?

Anyways, by the next morning the whole thing would have been nothing but a good story to tell while shopping at The Drunken Huntsman if Ondolemar, a Thalmor Justicar wouldn't have walked in at that moment. As the Argonian looked up the Altmer, she broke into a wide grin and half-stumbled in front of Ondolemar, loudly announcing that the Thalmor sure know how to breed a fine specimen. That was when all hell broke loose.

She dosen't know what really happened after that. Her next memory was running in the woods in her undergarments, still swinging a half-empty ale bottle in one hand. She probably aimed for Skyrim borders although no idea why. Drunken logic? That was she bumped into the Stormcloak rebels and then immedietly got jumped by an Imperial ambush. After passing out from the cold and slight alcohol poisoning she next awoke on the Imperial cart, bounded and getting hauled right back into Skyrim for a public execution. "The only thing svcking more than getting executed is getting executed with such a killer hang-over." -she thought.

Deleted...along with all of my saves.

Backstory

Dovak:
The Orcs job is to kill groups of bandits, necromancers etc... He is a Battle-Mage. He is enemies with the Thalmor after they stole many Magical items of his when they raided his house. (He got all of it back after he stormed the keep where they were keeping all of it.) Dovak comes from a Stronghold which practises magic + stealth Archery alongside the usual melee style. He left when he was young,
adventuring all of Tamriel. Skyrim is just one of his stops. For now he has settled down in the City of Whiterun. He is a member of many guilds, he joins most guilds and excepts all challenges. He is also a werewolf and uses the gift to it's full potential, using it when taking camps etc.

K'zargo:
K'zargos job is stealth, assassination and thievery. He currently lives in the College of Winterhold where he meets his brother J'zargo, even though he has no interest in magic. He is considering buying a house in Riften. He comes from a group of caravaners that would travel from province to province but he decided to use his skills in stealth, assassination and thievery instead of buying and selling while on his travels.
He dislikes Thalmor because of their smugness. He is considering becoming a werewolf or a vampire.

Both characters can survive for all the eras, by Cryo freezing each other at the same time on top of the throat of the world.

Ol' Maulhand Half-troll is ugliest sob this side of the Jeralls. As his name implies he is half man half troll. His father, Finn, author of 'Troll Slaying' fathered him illegitimately whilst researching trolls, and months later Maulhand was born. Raised by the trolls he prefers to fight naked and with his bare hands! While this kind of roleplaying is hard to maintain I find it to be the most satisfying.

Why ?

Backstorys:

Name: Dovak
Race: Orsimer
The Orcs job is to kill groups of bandits, necromancers etc... He is a Battle-Mage. He is enemies with the Thalmor after they stole many Magical items of his when they raided his house. (He got all of it back after he stormed the keep where they were keeping all of it.) The Orc comes from a Stronghold which practises magic + stealth Archery instead of the usual melee style (which is still taught). He left when he was young, adventuring all of Tamriel. Skyrim is just one of his stops. For now he has settled down in the City of Whiterun. He is a member of many guilds, he joins most guilds and excepts all challenges. He is also a werewolf and uses the gift to it's full potential, using it when taking camps etc.

Name: K'zargo
Race: Khajiit
K'zargos job is stealth, assassination and thievery. He currently lives in the College of Winterhold where he meets his brother J'zargo, even though he has no interest in magic. He is considering buying a house in Riften. He comes from a group of caravaners that travels from province to province but he decided to use his skills in stealth, assassination and thievery instead of buying and selling while on his travels.
He dislikes Thalmor because of their smugness. He is considering becoming a werewolf or a vampire.

Name: Olag Nord storm?
Race: Nord
A very classical Nord who hates elfs and magic. He supports the stormcloaks, and always uses Wuuthrad.

Hi folks, first time poster. Here's my story, just started:

Hiterag-Marmos, an Atlmer who was born and raised by his two parents - father, Rekab, and mother, Bini - in the Summerset Island emigrated from his home province to Skyrim when he was 7 years old due to his parents taking careers as Alchemists. They were known through all of the Isles for their skills - but decided to move to the College of Winterhold following an invite to become members. Rekab and Bini were known for their incredible grasp of magika, however, Hiterag-Marmos longed for the blade and shield upon hearing stories of Nord warriors fighting against the Thalmor. Hiterag was brought up to dislike the Thalmor, his parents were always aware that they were liars and they never were at credit for the ridding of Daedra invasion of Summerset Isles. Hiterag was born with clear white eyes and white hair, many thought he was a demon, which led to bullying at an early age right through until his late teens, he was scarred when he was 11 years old by a horrible dark elf whose parents were in the Thalmor embassy who sliced his face with a razorblade several times for disagreeing with the Thalmor. He bullied Hiterag for a long 2 years.

Hiterag's parents disappeared when he was 13, no-one knew where they went, many people speculated that they transported to another realm and got stuck there. Hiterag never forgave them.

A now totally independent 15 year old Hitrag had become tired of the constant pesturing, and now his parents were classified dead, this gave the bullies even more material and on the outskirts of Winterhold the Thalmor bully was practicing his magika on some mountain wolves with his bully friends. Hiterag isn't massively built, he's an average joe, but he has the passion of a tiger and can hunt with a bow and arrow as well as the next Wood Elf. He stood there for a good 5 minutes with his bow streched aiming at the bully, the bully caught a sight of Hiterag and rushed over to him with the intention of fury, his friends followed him. All Hiterag had on him was his bow and his elven dagger that his parents bought him for his 10th birthday. The bully cut Hiterag and in defence, Hiterag stuck the blade into the bullies kneck who instantly dropped to his death. The bullies friends looked at him with horror, and shouted "Demon!" and "Creature!" while running away.

Hiterag, wary that these bullies were undoubtedly going to tell the head of the college of what he had done, ran as fast as he could from the scene. He travelled for two weeks and finally arrived in Cyrodiil. While hunting for food, anything, Hiterag was shot by an arrow and seriously wounded by a Nord man also out hunting. He was taken to a home and given food and bed for the night. This man's name was Jon. After recovering, Jon took Hiterag out to hunt to try and teach him. Though his race was normaly bigoted towards Elves, Jon saw Hiterag's worth instantly who showed he wasn't an ordinary 15 year old with a bow. After capturing many rabbits that day and providing much food for the Nord family, Hiterag bonded with Jon and his wife and two sons, Idris and Rikan, both 17 year old twins. Hiterag was ultimately taken in by this family and seen as one of their own, and he saw them as his family. He spent many years witht his family and learnt the way of the Nord. He heard of the worship of Talos, and took to believeing in him and worshiping him.

When Hterag was 16 he was approached by a hooded old man who spoke to Hiterag of a gift that many had not possessed for many ages. He told Hiterag that one day, he will learn of his gift but urged him to fight and train all that he can for one day his skills will be called upon. Before he could ask him for a name he was gone.

10 years later, Hiterag heard Jon, his now father, had been killed. Further details were given to him and apparently Jon, who was a firm stormcloak believer - ironically, though, a father of an elf but did not see his elven son Hiterag as that - was killed by Imperialist extremists while out on his travels to Cheydinhal. This angered Hiterag beyond belief, he consulted his twin brothers about joining Ulfric Stromcloak's rebellion. They didn't accept, and prefered to mourn their fathers death a different way. Hterag, full of rage, accepted his brothers wishes, said goodbye to his Nord family and fled to Skyrim to fulfil his intentions. Nearing the border, Hiterag got caught eye of a group of Imperials. They were drunk, and when Hiterag's rage got in the way of his wisdom, well, let's just say there were 3 more dead imperials on that night. This was not enough revenge, he wanted more. He longed to be a Stormcloak. Fleeing the scene was not enough, he was hit over the head with a mace by an Imperial guard.

Hiterag wakes up dazed on a carriage, not at first knowing his current idol who he wished to fight for joined him.

He was also not too long away from hearing of his "great gift".