Race: Imperial
Gender: Female
Age: 34

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Appearance: Flavia is an intimidating maiden with a height of 6'5, a rather hefty build and a partially healed scar that goes from the left side of her upper lip all the way to her left ear. She has blonde hair as golden as the early morning sunrise. Her emerald green eyes are said to pierce into one's very soul. Her pale white skin is marked with many scars on her arm, particularly her sword arm. Even without her armor or a glimpse of her menacing demeanor, her looks alone would frighten most people.
Personality: If there is one word to describe Flavia, it would be domineering. At best she is arrogant and disdainful. At worst she is a beast who relishes nothing more than to utterly humiliate her opponents before destroying them. Learning from her father, the legion and from the bandits that she fought that only the strongest deserve the best in life and she constantly strives to be on top. If she meets anybody weak of mind and body, she sneers about them. Always quick to assert herself after she's bested an opponent. For her nothing more matters than being ideal specimen and she would always try her best to become it.
Class: Knight

Major Skills:

Heavy Armor
Blade
Block

Minor Skills:

Blunt
Hand to Hand
Athletics
Speechcraft

Equipment: When on duty, Flavia would wear her iconic legion armor. The classic, overlapping steel strips that could take hits from arrows and blades.She would wield her recognizable legionary shield and have her "gladius" imperial blade sheathed on her belt at all times. She has a pouch to carry any essentials she might need with her. Her head is protected by her Legionary officer's helm. He back warm by the bear pelt cape with a red inner lining. She would look no different than any other legionary.

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History: Flavia's father was a legionary like herself. He had been at the Imperial city himself during Dagon's invasion and fought his cultist as the daedric prince himself manifested on Nirn. After the Oblivion crisis had resided, Porcius Obellius investigated all his belongings into a trade ship which he named "Kynareth's Fortune" and began his trade as a merchant. Not long after he would meet a Nord weaver, Rayna of Markarth, who he would fall in love with. Their union brought about their first and only child, Flavia Obellius.

Flavia grew up on Kynareth's Fortune. Helping her father and mother hauling items, keeping track of goods and cleaning from time to time. Her favorite part of the day was just before she went to bed. Her mother would recount his stories to her. Her particular favorites were those of his times in the legion. She had never seen the Imperial city before, only its harbors. So the tales of her father fighting off daedra in the once magnificent streets of the heart of the empire filled her imagination. She too wanted to visit the city one day.

When she came of age, she decided that she would continue on her own away from her family. She had wanted to see the Imperial city for herself and now was her chance. Her other reason for leaving was her father. The once caring and kind soul had become cold and unsympathetic. Only caring about their trade business and nothing else. Where once he would show kindness to others, even his rivals, now he wanted nothing more than further advance himself at all cost. Flavia noticed that it all began when some beggar sold him a small figure of "Talos the ambitious". The small statuette one arm stretched out towards the sky while the other held a mace that was planted on the ground. The statuette was burnt. The beggar telling his father that it came from one of the rich nobles of the Imperial city after the Oblivion crisis. Their house had burned down and the beggar found the thing among the ashes. While it certainly looked nothing like the first Emperor Porcious bought it from the man out of kindness. After he did though his attitude slowly began to change.

Flavia found few prospects of work in the Imperial city. Much of the scars of the Oblivion crisis remained and few opportunities were offered. So Flavia found herself with the Legion. One of the few organizations hiring in this troubled times. Through her hard work she eventually achieved the minor officer's role of Decantus after three years. Life seemed well enough for her. She got to explore her home province of Cyrodiil and fulfilled a life of adventure that she could only dream about in her youth. However her blissful existence was about to take a turn for the worst.

Six years after joining the legion she was given grave news about her parents. The great success of her father Porcious had attracted pirates to his ship. Off the coast of Hammerfell, Kynareth's Fortune was attacked by a host of six ships. Porcious put up a good fight but was slain. So too was her mother. Very few of the ship's crew escaped. One of them gave Flavia a few of their captain's possessions that they were able to save. A small pouch full of septims, her father's old legionary sword, some of her mother's clothings and the little figure of "Talos the ambitious".

The news of her parent's demise led her to a dark pit of melancholy and self doubt. Unsure of her actions. However as she began to question herself the statuette began to talk to her. Whispering in her thoughts. Telling her not bow down to fate but instead make her own. Often it would be harsh in its criticisms and mocked Flavia for her mistakes. This only led the girl to question herself more. However as time went on, she began to listen to the statuette. Following its advice. Making herself stronger, faster and more vicious. As she began to improve herself, the figure would praise her. Flavia found herself constantly looking for the statuette's favor. Relishing each moment that she was praised.

Of course this meant that as time went on she became more inhumane and savage. Slowly the disciplined warrior became a savage brute. The bandits her cohort would face ended in grim fashion. Some even tortured before being given a slow death on the battlefield. Enemies asking for mercy found none. Even her allies found her more and more unnerving as time went on. The once level-headed and calm officer became a bloodthirsty berserker. She would berate the weakest of her troops and push them to their limits. Often belittling them if they couldn't stand up to their standards.

The abuse that her soldiers endured became so severe that she was eventually forcefully retired from the legion at the relatively young age of 30. The Legion's Demon was gone but she kept her armor and gear. Nobody dared stop her. After her expulsion, she became a sword for hire in Bravil. A vicious warrior who would fight any cause for the right amount of money. Every enemy she bested would suffer for days before they would get the sweet relief of death. This earned her gruesome titles such as "the Cruel Mistress of Bravil" and the "Iron Maiden of Niben bay".

Eventually she found herself under the employ of Quintus and the Skingard company. Her reputation made her unwanted in the fighters guild and it scared away most potential clients. However under Quintus, she found a regular source of employment. To her working for somebody else wasn't an ideal position to be in. However one day she could find herself the leader of this little outfit.

Neras Vesuius

Race:
Dark Elf

Gender: Male

Age: 68

Appearance:


Personality:

Neras is a cavalcade of different emotions, and he often comes across as something of a furtive, fractured person. He feels deep regret for the actions of his youth and has quite a calm (almost wearisome) temperament about him. But his experiences have left deep scars upon Neras, witnessing the firery desolate vistas of oblivion takes it's toll on the mind, even all those years later.

Neras is far from completely shed of his old ways though, in spite of his hopes for redemption. He still possesses a manipulative cunning about him and will aim to bend and break rules to get ahead at every opportunity.

Class:
Major:
- Conjuration
- Blade
- Sneak

Minor
- Illusion
- Block
- Heavy Armour
- Acrobatics

Equipment:
Neras usually travels quite light, wearing a shabby set of robes. When in combat though he invariably conjures weapons and armour for himself. On his person though he does usually carry some general odds and ends, a handful of septims, some wine and Quill of Gemination.

History:

Neras was only 19 when he joined the Mythic Dawn. Full of all the misplaced anger and ideals so typical of the young. The Dunmer eagerly soaked in the words of Mankar Camoran and pledged his life to the cause seeing himself and the cult as above the rest of Tamriel, awaiting the glorious ascension...Reality was to hit him hard.

As the Oblivion crisis progressed Neras gradually started to become disillusioned with the cult, it was one thing to preach the destruction of the world, quite another to actually see it happen. Whispers reached him of how their promised paradise was anything but, speaking with Daedra and reading the Mysterium Xarses had a profound effect on him and by the time of the battle for the Imperial City Neras was nowhere to be seen.

Though Mehrunes Dagon failed and Mankar was slain, life did not improve for Neras who was forced into hiding and ever on the move. Constantly he had to look over his shoulder for not only Imperials or the blades but resurgent members the Mythic Dawn looking to punish his desertion. To say nothing of the fact that it isn't ever wise to betray a Daedric Prince...

Although life did go on for Neras there was a thought that ever troubled him and which no amount of wine could make it go away. Haunted by dreams and visions of a paradise that was not, and no longer was. In a fit of rage and madness Neras hatched a plan concocted of half-remembered, forbidden knowledge. And now he finds himself with a magical quill in his possession enrolled in a certain mercenary company.