[hider=Snow Clever-Cat][center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/264639c7-3c96-4ce2-89f9-514935f0d4be.png[/img][/center]

[b]Name:[/b] Snow Clever-Cat.
[b]Gender:[/b] Male.
[b]Race:[/b] Khajiit.
[b]Age:[/b] 32.
[b]Birthsign:[/b] The Apprentice.
[b]Appearance:[/b] There is absolutely no mistaking Snow for any race except his own. He is physically Khajiit through and through, specifically the Cathay subspecies, and particularly resembles the snow leopards that were once said to roam Skyrim’s mountain ranges. Neither particularly tall nor particularly bulky, Snow stands 5’9” tall and weighs 155 pounds. He believes strongly in self-care, however, and his body consists of lean muscle instead of excess fat; he is strong enough to hold his own in melee combat because of it. Somewhat uncommon (though not entirely rare) is the coloration of his fur, which is mostly white with darker spots and areas on his face, shoulders, back and thighs. He darkened over time but was completely white when he was born and it was that quality that inspired his name. 

His face is relatively broad, with his golden eyes set far apart and quite a flat nose beneath them. This impression is further enhanced by the thick, beard-like fur that grows on Snow’s lower jaw and his long, curved ears. His brow is quite pronounced which gives his face a look of perpetual disapproval that makes him hard to read to those unfamiliar with Khajiiti facial expressions and body language. His ears are very expressive, however, and observant and knowledgeable individuals can always tell his mood by their positions. Snow has no tattoos or remarkable scars and the only personal touches he allows himself are two rings in his ears and two short, Nordic-style braids in his ‘beard’. 

Ever practical, Snow’s outfit consists of a loose-fitting white robe (of which he often rolls the sleeves up to his elbows) over which he wears a leather-and-cloth cuirass that tapers out into a knee-length coat of sorts. It is held in place by a large belt around his waist that is fully covered in pouches, satchels, purses and pockets, and below that he wears baggy black pants, the bottoms of which are stuffed into his sturdy leather boots -- to keep the snow and the rain out. He wears a leather hood (with custom openings for his ears) over his head for additional protection and, as a small touch of fashion, leather bracers around his wrists. All in all, Snow looks like a Khajiit properly decked out for anything life can throw at him.

[i]Full outfit: [url=https://i.imgur.com/WJBXale.jpg]link[/url][/i]

[b]History:[/b] The mystery of who Snow’s parents were or how he ended up on the doorstep of a Nord couple in Bruma has been lost to time and will probably never be discovered, nor does he care to find out. Forthar and Linda, a smith and his wife, were childless (despite their best efforts) and considered the appearance of the swaddled Khajiit babe a blessing, even if it was an unusual one. Fully ignorant of the normal naming conventions of Khajiit they named him after his pale fur, as white as snow, and raised him like they would have any other child. This means that Snow does not speak with the same accent or distinctive mannerisms as the Khajiit that were born and raised according to the customs of their own race, and that effectively cast him into the role as outsider on both sides of the divide. To the other Nords and Imperials that lived in Bruma he would never exactly be like them, and to the few Khajiit that he met growing up (like the traders, for example) he would never be one of them either. Sometimes it made him sad, but it was the only life he had known, so Snow accepted his fate and went about his life as best he could. 

Which is to say, quite well. Fortunately for him, Snow turned out to be a cat of many talents and was possessed of an insatiable curiosity to learn new things and develop new skills. He helped Frothar at the forge, but he also spent his time with an Imperial tutor named Aurelius at the local chapel that taught him about history, politics, geography and a little bit of magic (Alteration and Illusion, to be precise). The latter, especially, captivated Snow to no end, and he constantly pestered Aurelius to teach him more and more until, when the Khajiit was sixteen years old, Aurelius had nothing left to teach him. Frothar and Linda were proud of him, even if they didn’t fully understand [i]why[/i] he wanted to know ‘all that hard stuff’, and it was when their family from way up north in Skyrim visited that Snow was given his proper Nord name. Frothar’s uncle, a hardened warrior and hunter from the Pale named Wulfgar, treated Snow no different than he did any of the Nords present and there was a spark of cunning in the old man’s eyes that Snow respected. 

“Clever-Cat,” Wulfgar had said after seeing Snow demonstrate his telekinesis spell. “That will be your name.” He wore it with pride and shamelessly introduced himself as such ever since.

His desire to learn more saw his parents send him off to the College of Winterhold in Skyrim when he turned eighteen, which had a better reputation than the institutions of magical learning in Cyrodiil at the time. Besides, that meant that Snow could visit Wulfgar and his other family up north, and that was something he cherished. Snow spent most of his time diligently studying at the College, dividing his attention equally between the schools of Destruction, Alteration and Illusion, but he also visited Wulfgar often and the old man insisted on teaching him how to fight with a sword. Never one to turn down a lesson, Snow accepted and he applied himself just as fiercely there as he did anywhere else. Wulfgar’s wife, Mandra, was versed in the traditional alchemical crafts of the Nordic wild-folk, and she taught him those skills too. It was a lot of different subjects to cover at once and more than one professor at the College suggested that Snow finally pick a specialization (and not visit his great-uncle so often), but the Khajiit was loathsome to choose. He figured that a combination of adequate proficiency in many subjects was just as good as being highly capable in only one or two areas. 

Attending the College was expensive and Frothar and Linda eventually, after six years of Snow’s attendance, had to inform him that they could no longer afford the fees. He was twenty-four years old: it was time for him to start earning his own money. Snow had never really figured out what he wanted to make of himself, but he did know that it was better to do some good in the world than to do anything else, so he landed on the only obvious profession his strange mix of skills was good for: mercenary work. He teamed up with two friends he had made during his time at the College: a Breton conjurer named Francois and a Dunmer pyromancer called Avela. The three of them offered their services to citizens, thanes and jarls alike, and usually found themselves hunting down bandit leaders and bringing them to justice whenever the guards were too busy to do it themselves. More interesting jobs included clearing woodland areas of Spriggans, putting the restless dead back to… well, rest, and one particularly hairy encounter that saw them taking on a whole family of cave bears. It paid well enough and they were capable to see them through it, but it was a hard life and Francois, who had been a pampered noble’s son up until then, called it quits after three years on the road. Snow was twenty-seven then. Besides, Francois argued, the Civil War had just broken out between the Stormcloaks and the Empire (which was true) and he did not feel like getting caught up in the middle. Snow and Avela saw nothing but opportunities for work, on the other hand, as the guards were even more reluctant to handle brigands and other threats. 

Unfortunately, there were even bigger monsters lurking about in Skyrim. 

The return of the dragons turned out particularly disastrous for them when one of them attacked the town of Dragon Bridge (ironically enough). The legendary Dragonborn, allegedly returned to Skyrim, was nowhere to be found and it was up to the town guards and the Penitus Oculatus agents assigned there to fend off the beast. Snow and Avela happened to be in town and immediately rushed out of the inn to lend assistance, but when Snow saw the massive beast crushing a house beneath its weight and burning two of the guardsmen to death, all of the bravery he could have mustered left him. Avela, always the more ferocious of the two, boldly accepted the challenge, quipping her last words to Snow: “Fire, eh? I’m a Dunmer, I can handle that!”

When they found her frozen corpse at the end of the day, it shattered into a thousand pieces as they tried to lift it up.

Snow had fled. He normally wasn’t a coward but what could they have done against a dragon? Avela had been a fool to stay and fight. Still, guilt and grief over her death weighed heavily on him and Snow needed a break from it all. He returned home (almost getting caught crossing the border into Cyrodiil on the way there) and spent a few quiet months helping Frothar at the forge and regaining his composure by enjoying the simple pleasures of life. He had been sending some of the money that he made from his work back over the past three years and his adoptive parents were more than happy to return the favor by letting him stay with them for a while. It was during this time that the importance of a support network (and, by extension, teamwork) became apparent to him. If he was going to go back into the field, he wanted to do so as part of something greater. And that’s where the Chapter came in. 

One of their recruiters came to Bruma during the Chapter’s first big push to expand their ranks as a result of the Stormcloak Rebellion and the return of the dragons, and Snow signed up halfway through the recruiter’s pitch. He was itching to get back into the swing of things and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. Upon arrival in the compound he was told to demonstrate his skills before the four Commanders of the Chapter, where Duatheryn almost snagged him for Intelligence. Snow insisted that he wanted to be out in the field and Gaius Nero, head of Operations and in charge of the field teams, acquiesced. 

His service with the Chapter was perfunctory but not exceptional, especially while he was only following orders. Snow whispered advice in the ear of his field team leader, a stoic Imperial named Karrus, as often as he could, as he felt that his mind was being wasted as a mere footsoldier, but Karrus disregarded his words as often as he listened to them. During their periods of rest and recuperation within the Chapter’s compound Snow caught the eye, and she his, of a female Khajiit that worked in the kitchens. Her name was Yushi and the two of them developed a quiet, understated relationship that Snow cherishes (but almost never speaks of) to this day. In recognition of his talents, she calls him Jo’Snow, something that deeply moved him -- it was the first time anyone had made him feel at home within Khajiit culture. As for the field work, it took a few years of proving himself but Karrus began to listen to the Khajiit more and more and found that, more often than not, Snow was right. 

“They don’t call me Clever-Cat for nothing,” Snow had said when Karrus finally acknowledged it over campfire dinner. 

“I thought you called yourself that,” Karrus had countered. Snow laughed. 

And now, in 4E206, Karrus has recommended to Gaius Nero that Snow be given his own command over a field team. The inscrutable and stern Nero had looked at Snow with an expression he couldn’t place -- was it amusement? -- and approved the recommendation with a single nod. 

[b]Personality:[/b] More than anything else Snow is pragmatic, calm and collected. He values logic and rationality above all other factors in decision-making and usually functions as the voice of reason in whichever group he finds himself in. His experiences as a Nord-raised Khajiit that fell culturally outside of both groups have shaped him into someone that relies on his skills and his wits to prove his worth. Snow can be a bit of a show off at times because of it, but he tries to restrain himself whenever possible -- showing off for the sake of appearing clever isn’t exactly rational. Still, what one believes in and what one actually does are often two different things. 

When interpersonal relations are concerned, Snow is not unlikeable, but not polite or particularly forthcoming either. He prefers to get straight to the point and considers formalities and frivolous chit chat over nothing in particular to be a sinful waste of time. That said, if he likes his company, he can be both a good storyteller and a listening ear, and beneath the facade of stoic practicality lurks a Khajiit that loves his friends and will stick by them -- he doesn’t want to repeat Avela’s death ever again. 

In combat or other dangerous situations, Snow is good at keeping a cool head and prefers to think his way out of a situation over having to fight his way out with brute force. He will endeavour to keep his allies calm as well, be it through speech of magic, and forgoes personal glory readily if it means he can help secure victory through some other method. 

[b]Equipment:[/b]
[list][*]Snow’s primary weapon is a simple but well-made steel sword in the style of the Nords; it was a gift from Frothar before Snow left home. It has seen him through all manner of fights and while it isn’t particularly impressive, it feels like an extension of his arm and he would be less comfortable fighting with any other blade. He has enchanted it to deal minor fire damage to whatever it strikes. 
[*]Snow’s armor consists of a leather cuirass, hood, bracers and boots. It is lightweight, flexible and easy to maintain, but it won’t save him from a direct hit of a powerful weapon any day of the week. The cuirass, however, has been enchanted to be more resilient than ordinary leather has any right to be -- it’s effectively as if he’s wearing chainmail. 
[*]Alchemical ingredients and tools. He currently has enough stuff with him to make three healing potions, a lingering poison, two magicka potions and a potion that makes it easier for him to cast his Destruction spells.
[*]A whetstone, needle and thread and some patches of leather. Enough to maintain his sword and armor.
[*]Two filled lesser Soul Gems.
[*]120 septims.
[*]A map of Tamriel.
[*]Some food; bread, beef jerky and assorted nuts.
[*]A waterskin and a hipflask.[/list]

[b]Attributes:[/b] Intelligence (Major) and Agility (Minor). 

[b]Skills:[/b]
[indent][i]Expert:[/i]
[list][*]None.[/list]

[i]Adept:[/i]
[list][*]Destruction.
[*]One-Handed Sword.
[*]Alteration.
[*]Illusion.
[*]Alchemy.[/list]

[i]Apprentice:[/i]
[list][*]Smithing.
[*]Enchanting.
[*]Light Armor.[/list][/indent]

[b]Spells:[/b] 
[indent][list][*][i]Destruction:[/i] Fireball, Lightning Cloak, Frost Rune.

[*][i]Alteration:[/i] Ironflesh, Telekinesis, Magelight.

[*][i]Illusion:[/i] Rally, Calm.[/list][/indent]

[b]Combat Style:[/b] Snow is, essentially, a spellsword with a great variety of skills, supplemented by alchemy and enchanting. He tries to be ready for anything and adapts to his situation rather than trying to force the issue with whatever he feels comfortable with, as so many other warriors do. The combination of his skill with his enchanted blade, the Ironflesh and Lightning Cloak spells and his natural dexterity make him deceptively capable in melee combat, and enemies would do well not to underestimate him simply because he does not look like much of a fighter. He uses the Fireball and Frost Rune spells to attack enemies from a distance or catch them by surprise, respectively, and isn’t beyond using Telekinesis in a pinch to throw objects at his enemies or bring something precarious down on top of them. Unlike many other Illusionists, Snow has focused on empowering his allies or defusing potentially hostile situations insead with that school of magic. All in all, Snow brings quite a lot to the table and while he does not excel in any one thing, it is the combination of his many skills and talents that make him a formidable foe. 

[b]Misc:[/b] Snow is a lightweight when it comes to alcohol and becomes uncharacteristically goofy and cheerful when he drinks too much.[/hider]