[b]Name:[/b] Gaspard Moret
[b]Age:[/b] 55
[b]Race:[/b] Breton
[b]Appearance:[/b] Gaspard is not a young man anymore, he hasn't been for quite sometime, and it shows in the status of his body. After years of wear and tear, living the rough and tumble life of a spy and assassin in the service of various noblemen and organizations throughout Tamriel. His hair is graying, once long brown strands of hair having turned a dull stone gray some time before the Nerevarine crept under Red Mountain and bled Dagoth Ur like a pig. Even his once bright, sharp green eyes, seem to have been dulled by years of field experience in the deadly courtly politics of High Rock. Despite this, though, some say that you can still spot a bit of that inspiration when he is invigorated, particularly when he is in his space in the field.

A little tall for a Breton, many attribute it to his father's father being a Nord, though he has no care for the idea himself. He is of a fair complexion, though his extremities are colored a rather dark shade due to his constant exposure to sunlight on the road. Years at work have left him with several scars, most notably several long, jagged scars around his midsection, as well as a clean cut that cuts through his left eyebrow on down through his cheek and to the tip of his chin. There is, also, a peculiar brand that sits upon his right shoulder blade, though he himself refuses to speak of its significance to anyone outside of a select few that he trusts deeply. Typically, Gaspard is not usually seen outside of his armor unless he is attempting to blend in with an upper-class crowd, and often times is seen wearing an amulet with a sword emblazoned upon a moon.

[b]Personality:[/b] Not a particularly pleasant person, Gaspard is a product of his environment. The deadly and elaborate court games of High Rock have shaped Gaspard into what he is now, turning him from a once bright and pleasant individual into the ruthless and vicious killer that he is today. He is cold, calculating, and determined, particularly when he knows that there is a greater threat on the horizon than just the concerns of “Where is the next Emperor?” In Gaspard's mind, the Oblivion Crisis was merely another in a long line of disasters to grace the land, but it was certainly not the first, nor will it be the last. In fact, he reckons, without a Dragonborn Emperor on the Throne, that these instances will grow more and more frequent. Ever since he heard of the return of the Worm Cult and their new plan to bring back the Wolf Queen...he has worked tirelessly to bring together a team to end their plot before it can grow further than its infancy.

[b]Affiliations:[/b] [list]
[*] The Court of Daggerfall (formerly)[/list]

[b]History:[/b] Born a few years before the Imperial Simulacrum, Gaspard grew up in a family that had dedicated itself to the service to the Court of Daggerfall. His father was a Nightblade, as was his mother and most of his grandparents, though that poignantly excluded his paternal grandfather's lineage. Often times as a young man, he thought that he may also break the grain of service to the King of Daggerfall, but he ultimately found himself pressed into training at the age of 6 once the Simulacrum began. In the new found age of fear and uncertainty that was the Imperial Simulacrum, Daggerfall needed families like Gaspard's to stay within the fold, to serve the Crown with distinction in the shadows, rather than in the open like the knightly orders of Daggerfall.

While Gaspard was spared the chaos of the Simulacrum, the immediate aftermath lead to a series of violent conflicts that began to shape Gaspard into the man that he became. When Gaspard was 19, the War of Betony began, the drums beating from the walls of Daggerfall to the docks of Sentinel, and in the shadows, Gaspard worked alongside other Nightblades. Deep behind enemy lines, they worked. Killing commanders, poisoning supplies, destroying weapons shipments, the Nightblades moved through the lands of Sentinel, committing acts of sabotage and murder against their enemies. Though the war ended when King Lysandus died, the grudges and methods they learned carried on with them into the homefront, once more practicing their deadly craft among their own citizens, at the behest of a corrupt nobility and a treacherous King. Even the Warp in the West did little to truly change the course of Gaspard's life. It felt like he had committed a hundred acts in the mere span of two days...though he couldn't quite recall what he had done.

The following years brought with them the battle-scars of his life, captured by a particularly vengeful Crown in Sentinel, he found himself locked away by the sea for three years. While his brothers searched, hunting for him in the shadows, he spent his time in the dungeons. It is there he earned his brand, and with each passing day, he found himself draining of his hope, of his drive. On the 3rd of Frostfall, 3E 421, he finally found his means of escape. Using his chains to strangle a guard, Gaspard fled into the night, though not before he found his captor, and butchered him like a hog – making sure to levy a strike for each day of captivity...alongside a brand. Before his brethren could find him, though, Gaspard recovered his equipment, and sunk deeper into the shadows. Stowing away on a ship destined for the Imperial City, Gaspard hid.

Following his escape from the politics of the Iliac Bay, Gaspard plied his trade as a mercenary spy and assassin for various nobles and organizations throughout Cyrodiil. While direct Imperial attentions were turned towards the repair of regions damaged by the wanton chaos of the Imperial Simulacrum, it became significantly easier for power players within the Imperial Province to make their moves. Other groups, such as the Thieves' Guild, the East Empire Company, even the Dark Brotherhood on occasion needed information gathered. Though he had been extended the opportunity to join the Dark Brotherhood, he did not feel drawn towards the worship of their so-called Dread Father, nor did he feel the need to dedicate himself towards a life of murder that would certainly get him killed quicker than he was already living. Though, by that time he had begun to hear whispers of the Mythic Dawn.

Nothing could properly prepare him for what came next. The Oblivion Crisis rocked the Empire to its core. The Emperor, struck dead, his sons murdered...it reminded Gaspard of the dark times of the Simulacrum, and despite Martin's triumph, Gaspard couldn't quite help but feel that there were darker times on the horizon. The Blades were, as expected, still operational during the aftermath, and while there were various other events during that time – such as the Fall of the Worm Cult, and the end of the Blackwood Company – there was one thing that disturbed Gaspard the most: the Fall of the Mages Guild, and its aftermath. In the shadows of the Empire for the next several years, he heard whispers...the shadow of the Guild, and the shattered remnants of the Worm Cult had joined forces...and once he learned to what end, he knew what had to be done.
[b]Class:[/b] Nightblade
[b]Major Skills:[/b]
[list]
[*] Alteration – Adept
[*] Blade - Expert
[*] Destruction - Apprentice
[*] Illusion - Apprentice
[*] Light Armor – Adept
[*] Lockpicking- Adept
[*] Stealth - Adept[/list]
[b]Minor Skills:[/b]
[list]
[*] Speechcraft – Apprentice
[*] Acrobatics – Apprentice[/list]
[b]Spells:[/b]
[list]
Alteration:
[*] Oakflesh – Novice
[*] Candlelight – Novice
[*] Stoneflesh – Apprentice
[*] Detect Life – Adept
[*] Telekinesis – Adept
[*] Waterbreathing – Adept

Destruction:
[*] Flames – Novice
[*] Sparks – Novice
[*] Firebolt – Apprentice
[*] Lightning Bolt – Apprentice

Illusion:
[*] Fury – Novice
[*] Fear – Apprentice
[*] Muffle - Apprentice[/list]

[b]Equipment:[/b]
[list]
[*] Steel Shortsword
[*] Leather armor
[*] Leather Traveling Pack
[*] Lockpicks x20
[*] Inkwell & Quill
[*] Leather Bound Journal
[*] Spellbook
[*] Amulet emblazoned with Moon and Sword
[*] Map of Tamriel
[*] Several days of Rations[/list]