Name: Rozalia "Roze" Éathliel
Age: 23
Race: Breton - although one can see a touch of Nord, from her Father's side.
Class: Rogue
Appearance: Standing at a height of about 5'5, with a slim and lithe body, Roze has the perfect figure for being quiet and sneaky. Her disarming grin and sweet dimpled cheeks often make others underestimate her, along with her warm, honey coloured eyes. She has a thick mane of black curls reaching nearly her mid-back, that she more often than not just ties up and stuffs into a hood when it misbehaves - which is always.

Personality: Easy-going and naturally sweet, she can make a witty quip about pretty much anything and is quick to tease to lighten the atmosphere. However, she can turn bitter when people treat her badly, and her anger is something that you do not want to face, even with a sword in your hand. Other than that, she has an unwavering loyalty for those she cares about, and is quick to stand up for the down-trodden and discriminated.

Bio: Roze's story is rather simple, yet tragic one. Ever since she was a young girl, hearing stories about the various adventurers while living in Cyrodiil, she wanted to join their ranks immediately. However, her life didn't go particularly as she had planned. Starting off in life in a small village just north of Bruma in Cyrodiil, adventure seemed unlikely. Her community were no more than farmers, the strongest man there being a Redguard blacksmith; who was getting on his years. A man kinder than his dour exterior showed, he gifted Rozalia a small steel dagger when she but four years old. Little did she know at that time how much she would come to rely on it.
The Great War hadn't affected their small village all that much - Rozalia not even aware of it, due to her being born 3 years after the Concordat was signed. However, that all changed when a group of Thalmor came their way; one of the groups that had fought in Hammerfell and lingered in Cyrodiil, they passed through their village on the their way to Skyrim. However, seeing the sole Redguard in the village brought back sour memories for the group of Aldmeri Dominion warriors, and they issued an unwarranted search, spewing some nonsense that they had received intelligence of outlawed Talos Worship. As many in the village were Nords - such as Rozalia's father - Talos symbols and shrines remained, and were found. Being only simple farm-hands, they had no defense against the Thalmor that slaughtered their entire village and razed the houses to the ground. Rozalia only escaped thanks to that old Redguard blacksmith, who had been determined to save the only child of the village. He was shot in the back with an arrow as she fled into the icy wilderness, tears freezing on her face as she left behind the corpses of everyone she knew and loved, the last words of the Redguard still in her mind: 
[i]"Don't look back. Don't forget."[/i]
She made her way to Bruma, avoiding neighbouring villages in case Thalmor lingered there - even at four years old, she was a quick thinker. As soon as she reached the gates of Bruma, the various beggars dotted around the city quickly took her under their wing. Thankfully, she had some pretty quick street-smarts, and was able to avoid trouble while living on the streets with various other orphans and veterans of the war. For 19 years, she stayed on the streets - travelling to various cities, and eventually coming into contact with the Thieves Guild in the Imperial City. Although not actually joining them, they offered her basic training on how to defend herself - that old steel dagger she had received years ago had saved her life plenty of times; either from drug addicts, fellow pickpockets, or men who got far too personal. But she knew she needed something better if she were to get anywhere in life. 
Naturally talented with a bow, it was her favoured weapon - it was quick, quiet, and gave plenty of ranged shots. However, in order for the training to occur, the Guild wanted one thing - she had to steal the bow, and the arrows. Now, that was child's play for her - picking the most isolated armoury in the city was no problem, nor was picking the locks and getting away with ease. So, this way she received training, including the basics of swordplay and parrying, etc.
When the word of dragons got to her, she made the decision to travel to Skyrim and help fight - ''borrowing'' some armour and weapons along her way, from some very unsuspecting - and no doubt furious - travelling merchants. After all, she could look after herself, both in the streets and in the wilds. She also knew that the Thalmor were prevalent in Skyrim, thanks to the uprisal of the Stormcloaks. She never fails to recall those last words of the Redguard Blacksmith. She didn't look back, that was true.
But nor did she forget.

Equipment: A fairly battered - but strong - set of leather armour, enchanted with a chameleon illusion, along with a leather mages hood, which gives her a boost in health. Also has a twin set of ebony daggers, found during one of her silent plunderings of giant camps. Also has a hunting bow, given by the Guild.
She also carries with her at all times the old steel dagger - not used much, but still looked after - and an Amulet of Mara that always hangs around her neck, which belonged to her Mother. A man tried to steal it once. He didn't see daylight again.

Other: Has a great love for music, and although tempted to join the Bard's College, couldn't simply be done with the cattiness of the other Bards and the endless chores one must do to learn how to play a drum. However, the Thieve's Guild of Skyrim has interested her - although it seemed almost unwise to make that big a commitment when she was younger, she has a better feeling about this.