All right, thanks for letting me submit, folks. Hope this makes the cut. [hider=Mirabel Durant] [b]Character Sheet[/b] [b]Name:[/b] Mirabel Durant [b]Race:[/b] Breton [b]Family Origins:[/b] Born to a Forsworn clan slaughtered when they ran afoul of an Imperial patrol during the last days of the Civil War, the orphaned child took refuge with a Khajiit caravan. She traveled with them for months before being taken in by an instructor at the College of Winterhold, where she spent much of her formative years cultivating both her innate magical talents and her hatred for the Empire that took her family away. Her real name died with the rest of her kin, and she was given a more traditional Breton name when she arrived at the College to disguise her feral provenance. [b]Appearance:[/b] Mirabel is a small woman, standing barely above five feet, with a thin boyish body and dark hair in braids that fall to halfway down her back. Her diminutive stature and delicate features would make her look almost childlike, if not for the signs of Skooma abuse. Her addiction has rendered her skin pallid and robbed her once verdant green eyes of their luster and light. Her face is haggard and hollow-cheeked. A bundle of bones, but unyielding as ebony. She prefers to remain unnoticed, and covers herself in a faded and nondescript robe one might expect of a traveler on a long pilgrimage, its hood almost always drawn over her head. [b]Age:[/b] 33 [b]Equipment:[/b] Owing to her slight size, Mirabel travels exceptionally light. She carries two simple steel daggers sheathed at her waist: one is enchanted with a powerful paralysis spell, the other with a soul trap. [b]Miscellaneous:[/b] A leather satchel slung across her body carries the rest her belongings, which are an assortment of several soul gems, some ill-gained coin purses and jewelry awaiting enchantment, an Atronach conjuration scroll, a mana restoration potion, and a few precious vials of Skooma. [b]Favored Skills:[/b] Highly Proficient - Illusion, Alteration Moderately Proficient - Speechcraft, Enchanting Somewhat Proficient - Destruction [b]Crime Committed:[/b] Suspicion of a series of petty thefts and burglary. Disorderly conduct while under the influence of a proscribed substance. [b]Character Background:[/b] It was easy enough to distinguish herself in the halls of the College. She had lived there most of her life, and magic was in Mirabel's blood, though her own kin never did much with it except brandish it as a hammer against their enemies. She possessed a far more subtle touch, however, and used her gift much as a poet would wield her quill. She gained more than a few admirers in the College among the students and staff, owing as much to her wit as to her skill with illusions and transmutations. Yes, magic was easy enough, but there was nothing - no hidden spell guarded by the Arch-Mage, no tome buried in the Arcanaeum - that would rid her of her dreams. She saw them every night without fail: her parents and elder brothers, in their armors of hide and horn, trampled again and again beneath the iron-shod hooves of the Empire's warhorses. They may have been a vicious band of murderers who preyed upon travelers, but they were still her family, and all she had. She found little sleep within the halls and vaulted ceilings of the College. Her talents grew with her anger, and Mirabel found no respite from her night terrors until she discovered Skooma. She had long been friendly with the nomadic Khajiit, grateful to them for having saved her life, and seeing something of herself in their rootlessness and cunning. Whenever their caravans passed through Winterhold she would descend from the College to spend a few days with them, telling tales and sharing their drink and song around a campfire. It was during one of these visits, after speaking of her nocturnal trials, that her old friend Mojmed suggested the narcotic as a palliative sleep aid. In Skooma Mirabel found a euphoria she had long searched for, and its aftereffects led to a peaceful and dreamless sleep she had never known. It was not long before she grew dependent on the drug, completely unable to sleep without it. Though her studies suffered somewhat, she was a gifted enough liar to assuage the worst suspicions, attributing her lethargy to her anxiety and worsening dreams. In this way she was able to continue on for several years, until she was caught stealing several magical artefacts from the College in an attempt to finance her addiction. Expelled and in disgrace, Mirabel wandered Skyrim, at times falling in with the Khajiit caravans, though mostly preferring to travel by herself. She fell into a deep depression which only strengthened her dependence on the drug, and took to a life of banditry and theft to support herself. No artless cutthroat her, she used her illusion magics to ensure she was long gone before anyone even realized they had been robbed. She made sure to steal mainly from Imperials, thus granting herself a measure of revenge while simultaneously justifying the worst of her actions. Five years after she left the College she found herself in Markarth, her family's ancestral city. Having been without Skooma for nearly a week, her desperation drove her to break into a heavily guarded mercantile store owned by a wealthy Imperial. The withdrawals rendered her clumsy and careless, and she was discovered by a pair of watchmen. In her panic Mirabel cast a frenzy spell that led the two to slaughter each other, though not before an alarm had been raised. With the city guards at her heels, Mirabel fled west, away from Skyrim and into her people's homeland, High Rock. [b]Fighting Style:[/b] The battlefield is no place for a sickly, underfed woman who looks like she could be bowled over by a stray fart from a giant two holds over. No, the fighting is best left to others while Mirabel dictates the pace of the battle from a safe distance with her expertise in illusions, throwing enemies into disarray with fear and frenzy spells while supernaturally bolstering the courage of her comrades. She's also a dab hand at sneaking about in a fight, supplementing her lack of natural stealthiness with magic that renders her noiseless and invisible until the time she chooses to strike with her enchanted blades. In a pinch, however, she's more than capable of hurling fire and frost at any who would harm her. That is, of course, unless a Skooma withdrawal fit robs her of her wits and her will. [b]Personality:[/b] Mirabel's not a bad person to know, provided you aren't an Imperial, or don't leave anything valuable lying around. While no one who knows her would call her malicious, she's got a pretty terrible - and expensive - habit to feed, and it makes no sense to her to break her back earning a living when she could just use her magic to her advantage. Though she doesn't always rely on her illusions to get her what she wants; she's a born manipulator, with a silver tongue that can cajole and persuade just about anyone to come around to her way of thinking. Though if pretty words aren't enough, well, who could object to a harmless charm spell or two, right? A girl's just trying to get by, after all. Though she'll gladly talk the ears off anyone around a campfire when the mood hits her, she is an intensely private person, and is prone to lying about herself and her past. She's earned her secrets after all, and to Oblivion with anyone who'd try to pry them from her. She possesses a great sympathy and tenderness for the Khajiit and their customs, almost as strong as her hatred and distrust of Imperials. She has the potential for loyalty, and while she will not hesitate to come to the aid of those who have done her a good turn, Mirabel is ultimately a survivor, and looks out for herself above all others. [b]Font Colour:[/b] None [/hider]