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Name: Wind Hammer
Race: Nord
Style: Barbarian

I have slaved over this as I find playing without a "character" leaves me wandering about unrealistically making choices I come to regret and restart over for.. after much refinement:

Erai: Breton - Agent (with a few modifications)

Not Dragonborn (so far anyway this may change if it becomes plausible and less character defining)

He was in the other cart from the Dragonborn Nord and will not be doing the MQ)

Perks: rough guide. http://skyrimcalculator.com/191684

The Legend of Erai
Meet Erai

Erai was born in Daggerfall, Twenty four years before his arrival in Skyrim, His family were by no means extraordinary, infact they were quiet poor... his mother was a healer in the town though not through any divine means, she believed more in the sciences of alchemy and as for his father Erai never knew him save the occasional short visits he made on one of his "fatherly" days... though they were years apart. Erai only knew that he worked for the East Empire Company.
Erai had two brothers one who lived with his father which he never saw and the other... Eru which he was quiet close with before he left Daggerfall.

The Vagabond

When Erai came of age he left for Cyrodiil having met a rather lovely Breton from the Imperial City though much against his mothers wishes. They had two children together, a son which they named Erubad and a daughter Idhrenni.

Erai was not a part of his new familys life for long however as he lost his place working at the alchemy store where he set out finding ingredients for a few gold a day. Rumours of his families ancestor "Erith" a Necromancer of a hundred year old legend has been whispered around the city following questions of his strange name which was a family tradition he had always insisted... not enough to save his job.

Upon losing his job and soon after his place with his new family Erai found himself alone in Cyrodiil. No gold, no home and no friends he could stay with Erai had but one choice, beg and wander as a lowly Vagrant... He could not bare to start out his new career as a begger in the Imperial City with his children there to witness it... so he left for Cheydinhall only to be escorted out of town soon after his arrival by the guards.

After wandering the northern roads he arrived in Bruma where he had a bit more luck, the locals had more pity for him here and he even had enough gold at times to get a drink and enjoy the warm fires at the local tavern.
The Jerral's bar in Bruma was to be the place where Erai first heard of "Skyrim" and the chance for a new life that awaited him there, with the few gold he had Erai gathered some food and set off North...

Arrested!

Upon crossing the border into Skyrim Erai finds himself now lost, surrounded by only scattered woodland and fields of snow dimly lit in the moonlight.
Wood snapping, footsteps and falling rocks from all directions, Erai quickly makes way to a flicker of orange light.

Closer and closer Erai begins to make out a few tents surrounding the now visible campfire, surrounded by many tall and fair haired men wearing ragged armour... Nords? this is Skyrim after all, he had heard all about "the land of the Nords" while in Bruma but he had never met that many himself and knew only to avoid them in the local tavern.

Erai slowed, no need to rush in to a camp full of armed Nords, and as he approached slowly his caution was vindicated; "Die Imperial dog!" Erai quickly sprung back and turned as the camp drew their axes and charged at him... only to be struck down from the shadows that had crept up from behind him.

Erai awoke in a cart bound by the hands with his small bag of supplies gone...


I will be keeping a little journal of his adventures as I enjoyed making this little backstory... just to keep him on track.

His first act will be wondering off after Ralof advises they split up where he will wonder through the mountains and find Angi. who will teach him to fight.

Name: Chemosh Felarian. However, in game, he is simply Chemosh.
Race: Argonian.
Style: Spell-dagger. (My not-so-clever way of saying a magical assassin.)

Chemosh was born in Morrowind, and lived there ever since he came to the age of thirteen. Chemosh had the capability of magic all his life, but at the age of 7, he was showing his parents, an Argonian man named He-Who-Keeps-Lives, a name he thought was very honorable, and his mother, a female Argonian named She-With-Blue-Scales, a new spell he had figured out. He suddenly lost control of his spell, and fire exploded all around him. His parents were soon consumed by the flames, and the house he had grown up in slowly caught fire and crumbled, along with the rest of Chemosh's life.
The guards came rushing to the scene of the accident, and picked up the child from the ruins of his birth-home. They were not sure what to do with him, as his reputation as a wizard at such a young age was known by all, and since he was the only one unharmed by the flames, they knew he had started the fire. Whether intentional or otherwise, they knew not, for he was jolted into such a state of shock, that he could not utter a word for weeks. They could not execute him for murder, or put him in jail, as he was so young. So, as they have done in the past, they sent him to a different province, so he could be their problem.
The day Chemosh set sail to this new province, he vowed never to use magic again, (though sometimes he breaks his vow and burns everything in sight, such as when he's angry.)
He falls asleep on the boat, and the next thing he remembers is waking up in a cart with three other men. He looks around at the snow covered land, and knows instantly. He is in Skyrim.

Name: Otto Mountain-Song

Race: Nord

Skills: Two-Handed, Light Armor, Alchemy, Speech

Backstory: Otto hails from an idyllic village nestled in a valley in the Jerall Mountains, north of Cheydinhal. Born into a family of successful brewers, he began learning the family business at an early age. He grew into a well-liked pillar of the community, taking over the family business after his father grew too old. He had a wife, a child, and a happy heart. Though the Great War ravaged much of Cyrodiil, and took many young men of the village, it thankfully never reached their peaceful valley. After the war, however, when the worship of Talos was outlawed, things changed. Shipments in an out of the village sometimes never made it, subject to Thalmor searches. Eventually the Thalmor themselves started poking around the village, interrogating the citizens for information on Talos worshipers. Otto himself was a Talos worshiper, but knew well enough not to keep a shrine, or other paraphernalia. Apparently, though, someone in the village wasn't as wise. Returning home from a trip to Anvil to pick up some fresh brewing supplies, Otto was horrified to find the village in flames. Every single person, including his beloved wife and daughter, was killed in the fire- the doors had been barred from the outside. Furious at the Thalmor, Otto appealed to the local count, and even made a few inquiries in the Imperial City. He was told, however, that there was nothing anyone could do the wouldn't antagonize the Thalmor, and was offered many half-hearted sympathies. Distraught, and unsure what to do, he simply mounted a horse and rode. It was days before he realized he was no longer in Cyrodiil, but he didn't care, and kept riding. Finally, exhaust and hunger took him, and he simply fell from the horse. He awoke some time later to find himself bound, and sitting in a cart with three strangers. At any other time he would've protested, but his heart simply wasn't in it, and he rode on in silence. When they called him to the headsman's block, he went without hesitation, almost eager to end his seemingly joyless life. The arrival of a dragon, however, changed things. He had, at least, regained a desire to survive. Not sure who to trust any more- an Empire that had forsaken him, or kinsmen of a land he never knew, he was unsure where to turn. The dragon, though, made his choice for him. Diving at the last moment out of the path of the beast's flaming breath, Otto joined Ralof. This provided him not only a means of escape and survival, but a new purpose. In the Stormcloaks he found a people willing to fight and die for gods and family; a people who would never abandon their kin to the atrocities of the Thalmor.

Awesome character.

Character Name: Onyx Panther Ninja
Gender: Male
Race: Khajiit
Class: Archer
Level 38 last I played him.
Focuses on Archery, One Handed, Light Armor and Sneak. Not going to post on his Perks, because I don't remember exactly what perks I took for him, and I don't want to boot him up just to look that up just yet.

Onyx was the second character I made, though my playing as him got interupted. Final Fantasy 13-2 came out, and I loned my copy of Skyrim to my brother since I knew I wouldn't play it if I still had Skyrim to distract me from it. I plan to get back to him sooner or later, though when I did get my Skyrim disk back, I heard about Dawnguard and started my vampire character. Usually Onyx wore Elven armor. Forget what sort of bow he had. Fought with a Blades Katana when things got too close. Or he'd just Fus Ro Dah foes away so he could continue shooting arrows.

Background: Onyx is the only one of my characters I've bothered to come up with one for. Onyx did not grow up among other Khajiits. As a kitten, he was discovered by an isolated village, where the secret arts of the ninja were practiced. The village shaman thought him to be the legendary cat ninja, fortold by prophecy. Not wanting to get involved in silly prophecies, Onyx left the village, though kept the surname of Panther Ninja that they had given him. After a few years of wandering, he wound up in Skyrim where he learned he was the dragonborn. So much for avoiding prophecies. He's just rolling with it this time.

Onyx is not married yet, though plans to propose to Aela the Huntress. If I ever get back to playing him.

As a side note, he's named after one of my cats.

That is a awesome cat name.

Made a Dark Elf Destruction-Mage.

Called him Dalamar, after some guy I once heard/read of somewhere.

Began his giant-slaying career at level 8 and has proceeded to blast the living [&@%!] out of everything he finds.

Magic is OP.

Character No. 1: Chalak, Khajiit. I actually think Khajiits are one of the more ridiculous things about the Elder Scrolls universe, but I was playing around with the character creator, and the Khajiit I created had so much character, I said what the hell and went with him. He turned out to be tremendous fun to play. Key traits:

• Super-stealthy.
• Keen archer -- essentially, a sniper with a bow. Dual-wielder (sword-sword or sword-dagger) at melee range.
• Materialist. Loves pretty stuff; loves to make stuff. Thought it was awesome that the smith in Riverwood would let him use his equipment! Never parted with a gem or jewel.
• Childlike. Naive in his interactions with people and basically good-hearted, except for having no compunction about shooting "bad guys."
• Apolitical. Doesn't pay attention to current events and tends to forget what he's told about them.

Character No. 2: Ambrose, Breton. Basically a "Skyrim-ization" of myself, in both appearance and personality:

• Totally magic-focused. All points go straight into magic. Used the Mage Stone and never switched. Went straight to the College in Winterhold, only to be disappointed that no one there was all that interested in teaching him anything.
• Not stealthy at all. Doesn't even sneak unless he knows someone's ahead of him.
• Dislikes killing animals or other people. Prefers Calm and Fear instead. When faced with many intractable foes, uses Frenzy to get them to kill each other instead.
• A "white-collar" character: OK with running errands, but not interested in mining ore or chopping wood. Leaves the smithing to the smiths.
• Political, but didn't want to take sides before touring the country and meeting the jarls. Based his peace treaty terms on quality of local leadership. Now helping the Imperials defeat the Stormcloaks, but hoping it can be done without installing Maven Black-Briar as Jarl of the Rift.

My fun character stopped being fun and I deleted all my saves. Then took him on one final rampage, which ended pretty badly when a barmaid killed him. I'm now moving onto a more serious character.

Aria Draconis, Female Imperial, ultimately I intend for her to be an assassin but I've got some high jinx planned for the Legion (shouldn't have tried to cut my head off) via the civil war quest line and will probably do the companions first. I need to ware down a few morals before becoming a murderer . Back story will be an Legion deserter.

Name: Vu Medomé
Race/Sex: Breton/Male
Birthdate: 16th of Frostfall, 4E 171

Story:

Skills: One-handed, Light Armor, Block, Restoration
Style and Equipment: Vu's fluid and fast style leads him to favor light-to-medium armor and one-handed weapons. An empty off-hand provides him opportunity to maneuver, but a shield is far from a rare sight. As of Mid Year, 4E 203 (Level 68), Vu is approaching the pinnacle of his prowess and has acquired a set of Dragonscale Armor and a Dragonbone Sword. The sword, named Veyvennir (Cut[ting] Wind Hunt), is imbued with enchantments of fire, absorption, and soul-trapping.

Name:Thorlof Icefury
Skills:Two handed, Alchemy, Heavy Armour, Archery,Lockpicking.
Race:Nord

Background: Thorlof Icefury, the youngest and most promising of the Icefury family. Icefury, a respected family that is said to have aided Tiber Septim in his quest to conquer all of tamerial. They weren't afraid of the Dominion. And refused to stop worshipping Talos. Which would prove to be their downfall. On the night of 10th last seed, the Thalmor attacked their Bruma estate.

Thorlof barely managed to escape the masscare. He knew that Cyrodiil was no longer safe for him but he would make sure that the Thalmor would pay for the destruction of his family. Having managed to salvange enough supplies to last him for a week. He headed towards his homeland, Skyrim. Traveling at night to make sure the Thalmor wouldn't notice him. 6 days later, he had just crossed the border. Thorlof decided to set up camp for the night. The following morning, he was awoken by the sounds of battle. "YSMIR'S BEARD" He shouted in surprise. He had just reached for his axe when he noticed a Legion Shield coming towards his head. A few hours later, he awoke on a Cart bound for helgen thus begining the events of the Dragon Crisis.


Morals:Stands for what he believe is right. Refuses to loot dead bodies as well the tombs of the honoured dead but will take anything that looks like it was created a month ago as he believes the bandits who inhabit the ruin left it there. Such as books, potions etc.. Refuses to cause trouble and getting involved with everyday troubles. Thus the love triangle in Riverwood won't ever get resolved. Will show no mercy towards his enemies.

Guilds: None as i plan for him to stick to the adventuring life as well as living up to his destiny.
Civil War: He will consider joining the Stormcloaks due to the Empire nearly excuting him for coming to his homeland as well as allowing the Thalmor to wipe his family but once he discovers what the Stormcloaks are really like, will join the Legion.

Hodlin True-steel, an honorable and wise Nord, grew up as a member of a hidden order of Nords in the mountains south of Falkreath called the Gilded Chieftains. He is the farthest descendant of the great Soldin True-steel, the founder of the Order of Gilded Chieftains. Soldin, in his passionate youth, organized a circle of warriors to defend the Greybeards and their ways.

An Imperial emissary visited the Greybeards in demand of their allegiance or political support, threatening to harm the Greybeards and destroy their temple. The Greybeards humbly denied the emissary their support, and brushed off the Imperial threat as a political move, aware of the loose Imperial tongue. The emissary’s caravan was leaving Skyrim, riding through a road outside of Ivarstead, and was blocked by Soldin, a large hooded Nord, clad in yellow battle paint and bear furs, wielding the largest axe crafted at the Skyforge, the hilt wrapped in the skin of an ice troll. Soldin’s companions, each clad in the furs of different Skyrim animals (werewolf, elk, troll, and sabre cat), slowly emerged from the bushes along the road, surrounding the caravan. They brutally slaughtered the Imperial party.
Proud of what they thought was wise, they bragged of their triumph against the Empire. But the Greybeards were repulsed by their unnecessary violence, and banned Soldin and his clan from Skyrim. Soldin took his companions south of Falkreath into the mountains with their wives and started a small community high in the mountains. They learned of their mistakes, and under the leadership of the now wiser Soldin Truesteel, began the Order of Gilded Chieftains. Honorable and true Nordic knights, above the racial and fearful biases of the typical Nords, they fight for honor, freedom, and the Nordic culture. They became accustomed to a noble lifestyle, indulging in wine and studying from a wide variety of books that travelling merchants come to trade them for their rare furs that they obtain on hunting trips and tests of combat.

Every member of the Order of Gilded Chieftains must mount his own bear or troll in their great hall as a test of manhood. The Council of Chieftains must also test each members’ knowledge of Nordic culture, science, magic, and practical skills. Once they have proven these prerequisites, and display honor, humility, and an appreciation for freedom, the initiate earns the title of “Gilded Chieftain,” and dons the yellow facial tattoo of the Chieftains.

Hodlin True-Steel is a Gilded Chieftain in the truest sense. But Hodlin’s wife was having an affair with another Chieftain, Hulgar. She was becoming riddled with guilt and was going to tell Hodlin. But Hulgar knew he would be banished from the Order if they were to know he was an adulterer. Hulgar murders Hodlin’s wife to hide his secret. As she lay dying in Hodlin’s house, he comes back and holds her in her final moments where she admits her guilt and he forgives her, allowing her to die in peace. Hulgar fleed North from Soldrick, the Chieftain village. Hodlin gave pursuit. He sprinted blindly and furiously into the dark woods, hearing the panting and occasional laughter of Hulgar. “Has Hulgar gone mad? Does he enjoy the chase? Why would he laugh so?” Those laughs haunt Hodlin in his dreams to this day.

But after days of running, losing Hulgar’s trail, Hodlin staggers starving, dehydrated, and dizzy into a circle of tents which he desperately hopes means aid. He bends over, catching his breath, the world spinning. He hears shouting and surprise, the shouting of men who concern themselves with authority, wishing to be feared and followed. He hears the snow crush under the feet of boots sprinting toward him, and two men grab his shoulders and pin him against a tree. They pull his arms behind him to the other side of the tree, where they stab a sword through his wrists, then put a wooden block through the end as some form of hideous handcuff. His blood loss disorients him further. A hand grabs his throat and pulls his face up, pushing his head to the tree. A red and brown silhouette shouts at him angrily. Hodlin’s throat feels wet under the strangers hand. A leather bound fist crashes into Hodlin’s cheek like a hammer. He spits out blood and brushes off the blow, being no stranger to pain. He sees red on his cheek under his eye. It cannot be his blood. Not from such a blunt blow. Especially not this much blood. The figure’s hands already had blood on it. His dizziness and blurred vision comes in waves, allowing for small moments of clarity. He sees a figure on the ground, lost in a pool of blood. It appears to be a soldier cut clean in half. It’s an imperial soldier judging by the colors. Hodlin then realizes what has happened.

The fist crashes into his face again. He spits out more blood, and looks up to see his attacker, an Imperial captain, blaming him for the death of his sergeant. Hodlin is being blamed for this soldiers death. But how could someone blame such a weakened man for such an impressive kill? Hulgar. They share the same tattoo. In a fit of panic, any witness could easily mistake the two tattooed Nords. Hodlin finally passes out from the blood loss.

He wakes up on an Imperial wagon, with several other Nordic prisoners….one of them seeks Hodlin’s attention…


This is going to be my next roleplay for awhile. Hopefully it will work as a Dead is Dead character, but if it turns out to be too much fun, I may let a death or two fly. He will be a Nord with typical Knight skills (sword, block, smithing, heavy armor, restoration, etc.) He will uphold the virtues of the Silver Chieftans, and try to spread their way of justice, equality, freedom, and honor. Hodlin is still a young man, so may lose his temper with those who show complete arrogance, power-lust, and cruelty. We will see where his adventures lead him, and how he gets distracted from finding his wife's murderer. What do you guys think?

EDIT: would anyone else be interested in playing as a Silver Chieftain? Maybe start a Skyrim clan with just a diary of sorts of what each character is doing? perhaps the Silver Chieftains follow their leader (Hodlin) into Skyrim, deciding that this darkest time in Skyrim is the perfect time for the Chieftains to do what they can to protect Skyrim Lemme know what you think We could have a virtual guild hall (a maxed out custom house) where if one of us gets a trophy or something we put it there, etc. Idk...i like this idea

Play style:

That is awesome.

Mine? Why thank you. It's been awhile and I wanted a really good roleplay to get me back into it

Hodlin:
Entry 1

Entry 2

Entry 3

If anyone was interested in the Gilded Chieftain roleplaying clan idea, message me. I'm getting some ideas as to where it could go, and would like to see if anyone is interested.

Great character tatortodd22! Really liking your play style. You should consider using Hodlin in the Dead Is Dead Thread- viewtopic.php?f=38&t=28850

And I would most definatly be interested in playing a Silver Chieftain, I think I will start up a character tonight and post my progess

its gilded chieftains now thought it sounded cooler.

Gilded? I like!
Is there anything in particular I need to know about the Clan?

Nothing much really. The character must be a Nord who is proud but not arrogant when it comes to Nordic culture and the Chieftains. They protect and pursue honor and justice and such, so help the good, punish or ignore the bad, and do whatever you can to bring Skyrim to its former glory. If a clan-situation picks up, what would be cool in my opinion is having different Chieftains focus on certain aspects of Skyrim that need improving such as: the Thalmor crisis, the civil war (Chieftains would side with Stormcloaks for their independence, not for their racism), dragon crisis, a campaign against dark arts like necromancy, any sort of effort against corruption (perhaps sabotaging thieves guild or displacing corrupt officials).

Basically, if there's something specific that you'd like to try to focus on improving in Skyrim as your mission in the name of the Gilded Chieftains, let me know so that Hodlin can "give you your assignment to aid in restoring Skyrim." Try to pick something you'd be passionate about. Hodlin will mostly be establishing a presence for the Chieftains by aiding the fair and kind people of Skyrim, and pursing Hulgar, who has most likely taken on a new identity.

Anything of significance could be recorded in say a virtual Chieftain Hall (the house-base I'm making near Falkreath, and could share the trophies etc.) I could make it in another thread and have changing pictures or something for what we have accomplished and a report of what everyone is doing? idk lol. be creative with your character though and how he can help Skyrim. Doesn't have to be vanilla quests and such.

Alright, sounds fantastic! Here is my Gilded Chieftain character-

Name- Hjolfr Sjarlson
Age- 25
Race- Nord
Play Style- Ranger/ Tracker
Will use bows mainly, with a sword and shield up close. Will stick to light armour only, and may dabble in alchemy and Shouts (if the time comes).

Upon hearing of Hodlin's chase, the Gilded Chieftains held council. Deciding that Hodlin had to be found, they organised a small party to give pursuit. One man was Hjolfr Sjarlson, the lead tracker of the Chieftains.
A young man of 25, Hjolfr had spent a large part of his years in the woods surrounding Falkreath and beyond. At a young age he showed a gift for stealth (which would often get him beaten by his teachers), and his skill with the bow has always been unmatched. A quiet man, he would go adventuring alone, returning to the village after weeks hunting, oftened battered and bruised. One such occasion left Hjolfr with a wicked scar he carries to this day, left by a pack of wolves he had been following at the age of 14. His initiation into the esteemed ranks of the Gilded Chieftains came to much suprise of everyone that knew Hjolfr, but they achkowledged him as one of their equals, and he proudly wears a half yellow face with honour.
Now with the honour and support of his tribe, he tracks Hodlin True-steel, his fate uncertain...

EDIT:
In keeping with tatortodd22's journal theme, here goes-


Didn't make it too far, but will hopefully get to post some more tomorrow.

sounds cool

I want to make some kind of artisan character. A primarily pacifist, average guy who seeks to be a master smith, or something along those lines. If I did seek to be a blacksmith, how does a character make enough money for supplies, building his own forge (a house with only forge stuff), and living expenses (if I go realistic too). Can your house make money? I don't want him to like spam wheat and giant toe potions... that's just not in character. Same goes for fighting. I'd say it's realistic for him to gather the ores himself but...dude....come on. It's hard enough to get to 100 smithing as is.

Official question: How does a blacksmith roleplaying character fund or even profit from his smithing dream?

Name: Asgard Odinsson
Race: Dark Elf
Skills: One Handed, Block, Light Armor, Enchanting, Smithing, Archery

Background: Asgard was found by a Dunmer enchantress and a Nord smith, who raised him as their son. He became the greatest blacksmith in Morrowind, and when his father died in the Great War he looked after his mother for five years by himself before she died. Being a master enchanter and smith, he decided to make some gold to fund a journey to Black Marsh, where he hoped to start unravelling his true identity. Upon entering the province of Skyrim, he was attacked by a Dragon, which nearly killed him. After slaying the beast, he absorbed it's soul, which awakened his memories.

He was the child of a god from another world, who sent him to Nirn to expand his power. Asgard then decided to head to Darkwater Crossing, to preach his word, where he was attacked by Imperials. They stole his sword, Jagged ThunderFlame and his sheild, a gift from Odin himself. After the events at Helgen, Asgard decided to reforge the blade and shield. He then decided to take the fight to Alduin, and to return to his father, Odin, who turns out to be Shor in this world.

Forgot to list his gear:
Dragonscale Armor - "Armor of War"-Fortify Light Armor + Fortify Smithing
Dragonscale Gauntlets - "Gauntlets of War"-Fortify One Handed + Fortify Light Armor
Dragonscale Helm - "Helm of War"-Fortify Archery + WaterBreathing
Dragonscale Boots - "Boots of War"-Fortify One Handed + Fortify Stamina
Dragonbone Sword - "Jagged ThunderFlame"-Shock + Firey Soul Trap
Dragonscale Shield - "Shield of War"-Fortify Block + Fortify Health
Enhanced Dwarvern Crossbow - "Jagged ThunderFlare"-Shock + Firey Soul Trap
Bone Hawk Ring - "Ring of Kings"-Fortify Carry Weight + Fortify Archery
Bone Hawk Amulet - "Amulet of Kings"-Fortify Archery + Fortify Health

When combined with enchanting it makes lots of money, especially early game, as, presumably due to a bug, the money you get decreases over time, but thanks to speech skill rises overall not much change.

The thing to do is find the turn undead enchant as soon as possible, as at the start of the game, with an iron dagger (worth approx 3 to sell, 10 in base value) a petty soul gem (IIRC, 90 odd unfilled, 150 odd filled) and turn undead gives a profit of around 70 odd per dagger.

This is right at the start of the game, buying all materials in (gems prefilled, iron ore to turn to ingots, or ingots themselves, and leather strips) Going out and getting the material yourself gives similar returns overall it seems.

This lists the various enchantments out there.
http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Skyrim:Enchanting_Effects