[img]http://static-1.nexusmods.com/15/images/110/2089864-1366133734.jpg[/img] Name: Tarja Eaglethorn Height: 5'4'' Weight: Roughly 120 lbs, slightly muscular build Occupation: Bounty Hunter/Mercenary Race: Half Nord/Half Redguard/Werewolf Class: Archer Gender: Female Age: 27 Attitude: Cold, taciturn, and a woman of only a few words, Tarja isn't much when it comes to speaking, or smiling for that matter. Rather she mostly communicates through stern glares and harsh body motions. She's not afraid to get her hands dirty (or bloody) and has an absolute hatred for the Stormcloaks. For her, there is only one thrill, and that is the thrill of the hunt, but when it comes to matters other than hunting, Tarja enjoys to be out and about in nature, as it is where she feels most tranquil, whether it is traversing the high, jagged rocks of The Reach or taking a peaceful dip in the sparkling crystal waters of Lake Ilinalta. Tarja is also a bit more fond of women rather than men, though either man or woman, she finds it hard to trust others and mostly prefers to work alone. Clothing: Her attire is mostly a mix of Ancient Nord and Forsworn armor known as the Armor of the Huntress. She even has a hood that she wears when she is out hunting. Weapons: A Dragonbone Bow with Daedric Arrows and a drain health and stamina enchantment, a Forsworn War Axe with fire and frost damage enchantments, and a Steel Dagger with a shock damage enchantment. She also carries various poisons to coat her arrows and her blades with, all made by herself Interesting facts/Bio: Born in Markarth to a Nord silver smith and his Redguard wife after the Stormcloaks took the Reach, the woman was originally under the family name Cathis, and was being raised to craft beautiful silver jewelry just like her father. Over the years, her family accumulated such wealth in their trade and was among the most astute of merchants in Markarth, despite being under the thumb of the Silverblood family, making a name for themselves. Yet tragedy was soon to strike one horrible evening as the family traveled together, husband, wife, and their young child Tarja, from Markarth and through the treacherous terrain of the Reach, on their way to Solitude to trade silver and jewelry. Their wagon was attacked and seized by a band of savages known as the Forsworn. Her father tried to stop them and save his family, but in a matter of seconds the man was skewered with arrows. Tarja was even forced to watch as her mother was descended on by the savages and torn to pieces. All that was left...was her. She tried to run but was soon caught and about to have her throat slit, until the men were stopped by their chieftain, an intimdating Breton woman named Aeryn Eaglethorn. Aeryn was a fearsome Forsworn, having earned the title Eaglethorn for her deadly skill in archery. She could pin a moth to a tree from nearly leagues away and when it came to hunting her targets, she was downright ruthless in her pursual.Chief Aeryn ordered her Forsworn not to harm the girl, but nevertheless Tarja was taken prisoner, the Forsworn believing that since her family was prominent in Markarth, they would receive a generous ransom for her. They chained Tarja to a post outside the camp leaving her out in the cold without any food, and for years they abused her phsyically and verbally, yet it was only the men and a few women who engaged in such vile behavior towards her. The chieftain would have none of it, it seemed. A few months later while the rest of the camp slept and Tarja lied awake in pain during the night, the chieftain unlatched her from the post and brought the girl to her tent. As she tended to Tarja's wounds and fed her, Aeryn spoke of how she was in the same situation long ago, and how she disapproved of Tarja's treatment by her Forsworn, but decided to let them continue....because she was testing Tarja's strength and her resolve. She spoke of how impressed she was the girl stayed strong, even through months of rigorous torture, and that despite she wasn't a Breton, she had what it took to be a Forsworn. The girl held anger though for the woman killing her family, but nevertheless she decided to become a Forsworn...to survive longer. A few weeks after that night, the woman came to her again releasing her from her bounds. She told Tarja that they were going hunting and that she wanted Tarja to join them, despite what the others thought of the girl. It was there upon the jagged, tall rocks of the Reach that Tarja made her first kill, a lowly mountain goat. Eventually, she began hunting more often with the chieftain and her tribe, becoming more and more skillful with a bow every day, until she too was a formidable archer, just as the woman who trained her. She had even gone with them on raids of nearby villages and killed her fair share of people. Soon she began to lose touch with her old self, shedding away the doughy exterior of a rich, snobby debutante of Markarth and truly becoming....a child of the Reach. The other Forsworn began to accept her as part of the tribe and to the chieftain she became a valuable ally and a close companion, perhaps...even more...as there was talk among the tribe of the chieftain taking the girl to her tent each night. The Forsworn also taught Tarja other valuable skills, such as alchemy, enchanting, and of course close combat with adversaries. Soon, Tarja had no desire at all to return to Markarth. She was happy with the Forsworn, the tribe had become her family, and the chieftain Aeryn....the woman she loved dearly. But...this happiness of hers would not last. On the night of the anniversary of King Madanach's rebellion, the Forsworn celebrated with a feast under the light of the moon, but their festivities were met with bloodshed as during the feast, the tribe was ambushed by a batallion of Stormcloaks sent to wipe out their camp. Many fought and many died, leaving only Chief Aeryn and Tarja alive. Tarja, though terrified her clan had been slaughtered, she tried to fight back, but Aeryn stood before her. Suddenly, the woman changed, her bones cracking and her limbs stretching, her body contorting into some mosntrous shape. Her fingers became sharp, vicious claws and her skin was covered in a thick black fur. Tarja couldn't believe her eyes. The woman...Aeryn...she was a werewolf! The werewolf's claws tore through the Stormcloak's ranks, limbs flying, blood spraying all over the place with horrible screams of agony. Tarja, as much death she had seen with the Forsworn, she couldn't even bare the sight of her beloved ripping apart men piece by piece, yet as horrible as it was, she couldn't look away, frozen with eyes wide as Masser above. Not only would she witness the slaughter of the Stormcloaks by Aeryn's hand, but she would also bare witness to....the woman's death. In her gory and violent frenzy, the werewolf was run through with a silver sword and wrenched back with a blood curdling howl of pain. She fell to the ground, trembling in such agony, trying her damndest to pull the wretched blade from her gut, but it was too late. The silver charred her flesh and boiled her blood with such a horrific heat. With her last breath, the chieftan called Tarja to her. Tarja fell to her knees by the woman's side, still in her beastly form, and sobbed into her chest as she felt the woman slowly fading into the distance. It was then, she gave one final request......drink her blood. Tarja did so....and as the woman died in her arms, she wrenched her head to the sky and cried out, her cry...turning into a howl. Soon, by the light of Masser falling upon her, she became the very beast Aeryn was, wolf blood now ran through her veins. She stormed off into the night with only one goal in mind, and soon that goal was met. The Stormcloak Camp in the Reach, by morning, nothing would be left of it...but nearly a hundred rotting, mutilated carcasses left strewn about their blood spattered tents and bedrolls. And it didn't just stop there. Soon, Tarja was seeking out all Stormcloak Camps across Skyrim, either leaving them bloody massacres after her werewolf form took over or picking off troops one by one with her deadly bow. Her savage deeds however didn't go unnoticed. After returning from another night of bloodshed, Tarja, now a woman in her mid twenties, rested beside Lake Ilinalta. Twas there, she was met by a ghostly apparition, taking the form of a majestic white stag. Tarja drew her arrow to the ethereal beast, but instead of flee...it spoke to her in a male voice. This was the voice of the Hunter, the Daedric Lord Hircine. Hircine was impressed with Tarja's ruthlessness and her keen hunting skills. He offered to make her his champion and give her power like no other, but at a cost. Tarja, being wolf-blood now, her soul would belong to Hircine, and when she died, she, like many, would become part of the hunt. Nevertheless, Tarja swore fealty to Hircine and was sent on her first task, kill another werewolf named Hrothi. Hrothi was a bandit chief, who led a gang of vagrants in Hjalmarch, he was also once a champion of Hircine as well, but abused his power for his own gain. It wasn't long, Tarja tracked Hrothi and his miscreants to a cavern in Hjalmarch. The lesser humans she easily picked off from the shadows with her bow, but Hrothi proved much of a challenge. Taking on his wolf form, he engaged the woman in a fearsome brawl, which ended with Tarja ripping his head off and carving the skin from his flesh as offering to Hircine. Twas from this skin Hircine made for her armor, cristening it the Armor of the Huntress. By wearing it, Tarja became an even deadlier foe. Her skills became sharpened. She could draw an arrow faster than before, her stamina and her speed increased and another effect...it allowed her the ability to transform whenever she felt, no longer needing the light of a full moon to provoke her. Now Tarja uses the power of Hircine to hunt and kill across Skyrim, taking whatever job she can find, mostly bounties out on the heads of notorious bandit leaders, but still her devotion lies with her Lord....and of course....to Aeryn, as she now carries the woman's title of Eaglethorn to honor the chieftain's memory.