Raelynn is short of height with a waifish figure. She has no scars, something that surprises her - that she has made it to 28 and never received a scar. Her skin is mostly still smooth and soft, a result of having lived a good life with access to oils and herbs that keep one looking beautiful. In recent years she has found that she has begun to weather, but her face shows the subtle and very early signs of aging, lines appear when she makes certain expressions, something that she absolutely abhors.

Unlike the rest of her body, her lips stand out for being full. She has a round, soft face, with high cheekbones. Her ears have that slight signature pointed tip and her eyebrows are arched - both signal to her Elvish ancestry. She has large steel blue eyes, which stand out against her light skin. Her eyes are expressive and to find out how she is feeling, one would only need to look at her eyes to see them bright with happiness, wide with fear, or an eyebrow pointed and raised in disgust.

She keeps her waist length hair tied tightly into braids, with only a few strands framing her face. Raelynn treasures her hair, and keeps it groomed with oils and floral essences at all times. The colour is that of her family - a cool ash blonde.

She wears embroidered mage robes (she never did like the plain clothing required of her to wear at the College). She will wear clothes that are either black, violet, or lavender in hue. She does not always dress in mages robes, and will sometimes dress down into more casual attire. Even her 'casual attire' is more colourful and ornate than others. To Raelynn, looking the part of a Lady is important. She is rarely seen without a jeweled headpiece.



Equipment:
[Items kept in a tasteful and fashionable satchel style bag]
Staff of the Healing Hand
Two Steel Daggers
Small cloth pouch full of dried blue mountain flowers, lavender sprigs, and other flowers
Small knife to harvest plants
3 x Lockpicks

Destruction spell scrolls
Scroll of Chain Lightning
Scroll of Ice Storm
Scroll of Mass Paralysis
Exploding Shock Spider

She always has a pouch full of gold, and tries to carry at least a couple of hundred septims. (218 septims currently)
3 Magicka potions

Misc. Possessions:
She has her notebook filled with her healing tricks and tips, and a journal which she writes in at the end of each day, documenting her whole life and journey for the day she finally sits down to write her memoirs and healing books. This is her secret journal, and she would hate for anyone to read it. Often pouring out her true feelings onto the parchment - whether those feelings are good or bad.

The only other thing she carries is a letter from her parents, wishing her well at the College of Winterhold. Despite being fond of fine things, she travels on a shoestring and only keeps what is absolutely necessary on her person - the rest she keeps in a locked trunk at the College of Winterhold, or has sent to her parents for them to keep safe.



Skills:
Major:


Minor:








History:
Born in Daggerfall, High Rock, to wealthy parents. Two respected Breton merchants and traders of exquisite antiquities. Her mother, Roxada, was an excellent craftswoman too - she made the most beautiful clothing for the ladies of High Rock - embellishing gowns with jewels and coloured threads. She had tried to teach her daughter the ways of her craft, but Raelynn had other ideas - she just wanted to dress in the gowns and would rather read books and listen to her father's stories about all of the hidden artifacts around Tamriel - about the magical items and hidden caches of gold littered throughout the provinces.

Raelynn had a comfortable upbringing. She never went without luxuries like great food, fashionable attire, and beautiful jewelry. This is the lifestyle that she grew accustomed too. One day, her Father was holding a golden crown that he had procured for a Lord to present to his Lady somewhere in High Rock. She wasn't really listening, she was too transfixed by the shimmering diamonds set into the crown. Everything fell silent when she gazed upon the treasure. At one point, she even licked her lips. Nothing compared to when she actually held it in her hands. She felt... Power. Her eyes were big as she stared at it, seeing her reflection in those flawless diamonds. She wanted nothing more than to have 100 of these crowns to herself. Her poor Father had to prize it from her hands - when she wasn't holding it anymore she felt an emptiness inside. Suddenly she didn't care what she had to do, how many people she had to climb over and stomp on to get it, she was going to have treasures like this of her own one day.

At night, Raelynn would read books on Tamriel, reading about great mages throughout history who had done amazing things, and of adventurers who fought down beasts and enemies to attain magical prizes, and of the hidden secrets scattered through the world. She wanted to be an adventurer, but she didn't really want to get her hands dirty - or put herself front and centre in battle.

Eventually her parents grew tired of her spoilt ways; and perhaps they both sensed that Raelynn also desired for more. Roxada and Saloisex were frustrated. They had an intelligent daughter with aspirations - that they had spent too long coddling and looking after to the point where she would quite happily stay in the family home forever. It was not an ideal situation - the couple had their own plans for the future too and it was very clear that Raelynn was not going to be taking over either of their businesses any time soon. Not to mention that Saloisex was finding it increasingly more difficult to keep his daughter's mitts off his artifacts. She knew how to press her father, and push his buttons into giving her what she wanted. They were left with no choice, no choice but to shift her out and into the real world.

They wanted to give her a gentle push in the right direction. The two concocted a plan; they spoke with their friends and found that among their circle of acquaintances, there was a couple in a similar financial situation to them with a son named Lazenne. He wasn't the most attractive or interesting young Breton in Daggerfall. So for that reason, he was perfect. There would be no way that their daughter would wed him, and so it might be the trick to getting her out - to get off her backside and to finally be independent and follow her own path - and more importantly it would seem to her like she was choosing her new life and that she had gotten one over on her parents.

When Raelynn met Lazenne, she laughed hysterically in his face. The poor boy had actually thought he was getting himself a prize wife too. There was no way she would be married to such a... weakling. So, following the natural inclination of her race to wield magic, she was finally prompted to request to join a newly 'reformed' Daggerfall Mages Guild when she came of age to begin learning the art of curative and restorative magic.

She had been feeling that this Guild was not for her, and instead chose to leave her home of High Rock forever and attend the College of Winterhold in Skyrim to study her chosen discipline even further (her parents were overjoyed! They would at last have their home to themselves again!) During her time as an apprentice of the College, she faced teasing from her peers for sticking solely to Restorative magic. This made her choose a secondary discipline of magic to study and she chose Conjuration.

She made a friend of sorts in Collete Marence at the College, although Collete did find her quite offputting and brash - and could sense that Raelynn's ulterior motives were not so squeaky clean. She was clearly very talented at her craft, and intelligent too, and it's not as if young mages were flocking to the College in droves to learn how to be healers, so Collete continued to mentor her, trying her best to teach the Breton to be softer, more honest, more sincere.

As with her growing boredom of the Mages Guild, Raelynn got bored of the libraries and four walls of the College after some years. She grew tired of the bitter cold, the terribly plain food, and the putrid smells which wafted through the corridors and congregated in her chamber of all places. She began to dream of practicing her magic out in the field, going on adventures and making gold. With the blessing of Colette Marence, she left the College to travel the rest of Skyrim.

She found herself frustrated on her travels. Adventurers didn't pay her all that much for her magic, nor did they ever seem to want to share the spoils. She had to think of something else. She had to take matters into her own hands when those she traveled with didn't get any injuries for her to heal or even want to split anything with her. After all, if she didn't have to patch someone up then she definitely wouldn't be getting paid...

So began her stint of treating adventurers who would stumble into taverns with wounds and ailments. First she would ply them with alcohol and sweeten them up with her charm. She found she was especially successful and buttering up loud and clumsy Nord men. How they loved her petite frame and mane of golden hair. Once they had gotten sufficiently wrapped around her finger, she found it much easier to get them to empty their pockets to her...

During these years, she picked up a few new skills from those she travelled with. Until this point in her life she had not really had a need to learn any offensive combat skills. A traveling companion quickly told her that while a spell may keep disease at bay, a dagger or two hidden inside a cloak is likely to save her life.

In dungeons and crypts, she would always place herself between the two largest members of the party - the ones that would best be able to defend her. She got used to sizing up new comrades. Finding the weakest link in the chain. Spotting the clumsier ones - they were to be avoided. She could also pick out the ones who were most likely to suss her out. It was usually other women.

There was a few times when she found herself in dire situations in the middle of an adventure. One such time stood out to her. Her party became surrounded by Draugr, and something enchanted the room, preventing them from using their Magicks. Surrounded by eight Draugr, she backed up to the wall and let the party fight. The best she could do was throw a rock at the smallest Draugr. She had no use of magic, so could not call upon her familiar to do her bidding. She had been buttering up the Axe-Wielding Nord the night before they entered the crypt - and so the absolute fool got himself in a lick of trouble to stop a bigger Draugr from making a kebab of Raelynn.

The Nord stopped the attack, his armour absorbing the hit but Raelynn heard bones crunching and they didn't belong to the Draugr - she could see that the Nord's shoulder had popped out of place. His adreneline stopped him from noticing right away and he made a mess of the Draugr, before turning to Raelynn with a smile. She was surprised he didn't come out with a "M'lady" for good measure. After that the magicka came back, and she summoned the familiar - but it was quite a bit too late. The Draugr had been bested, and now she had to put her skills to the test to get the Nord back up and running.

She firmly held his upper arm with her tiny hands, placing her heel into his side. She wasn't a strong woman by any means, but she could work with muscle and bone with ease. It was just like slotting something back into place. She told the Nord to count to ten - and on five she pushed and clicked his shoulder back into it's socket with ease. He absolutely felt it. Then came the "M'lady".

During the time of the rise of the Dragonborn, Raelynn found herself amongst the aftermath of dragon attacks rather frequently. She would come across the bodies of the burnt. The sight of their armour that had melded to their skin gave them the appearance of steel men, of crumbled statues. There was nothing she could do help them. Some of the scenes she witnessed absolutely traumatised her, giving her an intense fear of fire and flames. She tries to keep this a secret from those she meets, for fear of showing any weakness and vulnerability.



Personality:
To strangers, Raelynn would seem soft spoken and friendly. This is all part of a more questionable mirage to lure in those who would need her help. As a Healer she swore an oath to heal those who were suffering with disease and injuries - and she treats those who come to her with empathy, understanding, and great respect... If they can afford it.

She is incredibly manipulative and calculating in order to get what she wants. She wasn't always this way - at least not so much so. She can weigh people up on the fly, sensing just enough about them to decipher how she should act. Living and traveling in Skyrim of all places has shown her that everyone is out to obtain something, no matter how they present themselves on the outside… Every interaction that she has is pre-calculated, motivated, and for her own gain - to take her one step closer to her goals. The Breton has a remarkable talent at being whoever you want her to be...

Raelynn knows that her value as a healer and her level of skill in the art is worth a lot of gold, jewels, and other rare treasures. After all, what is more valuable to the average man than being able to live another day? Definitely not what he looted on his last adventure, the very trinket that he got injured for.

When she becomes more comfortable around people, she will begin to drop her initial honey-sweet and fake facade, allowing her temper, harsh personality, and snobbishness to appear. She will often become passionate in her speech. In her life, Raelynn has only met a small handful of individuals who have been able to really get past the walls she has so cunningly built around herself. These are usually the people who call her out on her schemes, and are the very few who see through her. She has a somewhat endearing lack of self-awareness and this has found her in spells of trouble, she will frequently accidentally offend other people with her lack of tact and sharp tongue.

She can be impatient and hot-headed, and will scold those she travels with for errors of judgement, even though she is not the kind of person who would step in to prevent them in the first place. She relies on those 'less fortunate' than herself to do the dirty work on excursions. After all, why should she dirty up a robe when the Nord in front is more than willing to do it to win her favour?

Ultimately, Raelynn is on her own journey to fulfill her desire for adventure and to gain power and riches beyond that of normal men, she wants her name to be in books - she wants to be remembered as Royalty. To live as a mere peasant? She would rather die.



Miscellaneous:

Username: POOHEAD189

Character Name: Markus Flintbrook

Race/Species: Human/Imperial

Gender: M

Age: 26

Career/Class: Mercenary/Armsman/Amateur Swordmage

Weapons:

• Bastard Sword
• Kite Shield

Physical Description: A lean, fit, but refined man with dark hair and eyes, with a navy blue tunic over chainmail (covering leather) and loose fitting dark brown trousers. He has a fair face, albeit with a scar at the left of his chin and running down his jawline. His hair is wavy, loose and tousled. Not entirely groomed as he was raised, he still looks more or less presentable, and perhaps charming when he feels the need to present himself as such. He has the look of a youth that has been refined like silver through various trials by fire.

Armor:

• Chainmail hauberk
• Leather armor over it.
• Leather bracers/pauldrons

Favoured Skills:

• One Handed Blade (Highly Proficient): Markus was taught from an early age how to fight with the blade, and further enhanced his abilities through his travels.
• Alteration (Moderately Proficient): Markus's studies at the Dragon's Blood were more on support magic, alteration being a forte.
• Enchanting (Moderately Proficient): The spellsword made certain to learn spells that would increase the tool of his trade, his sword.
• Sneak (Moderately Proficient): Knowing the value of hit and run tactics, Markus learned how to move lightly.
• Acrobatics (Somewhat Proficient): Markus has always been fit and flexible, learning how to balance and flip when the need arises.
• Athletics (Somewhat Proficient): Running through alleyways and leaping across rooftops certainly comes in handy, and he's had to do it out of necessity many times.
• Pick Pocketing (Somewhat Proficient): Not his greatest skill, but he has had dexterous fingers and a sly way about him since boyhood.

• Feather
• Shield
• Water Breathing
• Open
• Fire (Sword Enchantment)
• Storm (Sword Enchantment)
• Banish (Sword enchantment)

Equipment/Other

• Sword sharpening/cleaning kit
• Water Jug
• Herbal remedy to halt light bleeding
• 3 pounds of beef jerky

Mental Description/Personality: Markus is a strong willed and adventurous young man, having left his moderately wealthy home to seek his fortunes to the east. He enjoys learning, his rebellious attitude having dimmed somewhat from his training by his Altmer master. He has a good mind about him when it comes to common sense, though he can be a bit rash if he lets his anger get the better of him. Generally he has a friendly, if wary demeanor. He will sometimes spout wisdom he has learned on his travels. In truth he has more general knowledge than spell knowledge, for he is only a fledgling spell caster. Still, he'll always be interested in learning more of the arcane arts. He has a curiosity about him that he sometimes can't help. Ironically, he'll chastise others for taking risks he might take as well.

Goals: Markus' goals are to seek his own fame and fortune, through his own skill. He wants to live as a free man, outside of the pointless bickering of the lords.

Background/History:
The bastard nephew of an Imperial Lord, Markus had always been more focused on exploration in the surrounding forests and his various interests rather than his duties as a vassal. He used his standing not to further his family's fortunes, but to further his own. Not out of selfishness, mind. He'd often seen children who were less fortunate to be encouraged by their parents to do well for themselves. All he had ever heard from his family was what he could do for them.

One day his older brother was killed in a raid during the Great War, which lead Markus and his father to argue and break off their relationship through a fit of anger. Markus escaped the next day, taking a modest sum of money as well as some equipment and traveling east, taking up arms with a few mercenary companies. He found despite his individuality, he was not a bad leader to smaller groups of companions, at least as long as they were after the same prize and had shared goals.

Before long he culminated enough funds to find an exiled Elvish tutor (who held no loyalty to the altmer) in magic and swordplay. He lived there for 3 years, learning from the Elf in a forested tower before he was hired onto a fine expedition to explore the surrounding mountains. The adventure came into disaster, trolls making the group split up. Markus survived the mountains and found himself on the other side of them, next to the southern end of Cyrodiil. He spent a year bandit hunting in Blackwood, and taking small jobs to guard merchant ships in the southern sea before one day he ended sailing into the Imperial city, where a corrupt noble who's cousin was an outlaw Markus slew saw him arrested under false terms, doomed to hang...