[hider=Aurora Brightwind][center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/5e624ab6-0bcf-4a7d-b07e-2b486c459dd6.png[/img][/center] [B]Name:[/B] Aurora Brightwind. [B]Race:[/B] Nord. [B]Age:[/B] 36. [B]Birthsign:[/b] The Steed. [B]Family Origins:[/B] Whiterun, Skyrim. [B]Appearance:[/B] Like most Nords, Aurora is naturally tall and strong-framed when compared to the other women of Tamriel. She stands 6’1” (182cm) tall, weighs 155lbs (70kg) and her broad shoulders, wide hips and washboard stomach are typical of her race. Aurora moves like a woman fully in control of her body and has a fit physique to go with it, sporting lean musculature that speaks of a life mostly spent on the road or on the fields. Her feminine attributes are prominent but not ridiculously so, which suits her just fine; the more physical and adventurous parts of her lifestyle would be much harder if they were. The tan of her skin betrays her long absence from Skyrim and its seemingly never-ending winters and her many days in the sun have brought out freckles on her face that go well with the natural blush on her cheeks. Her long-lashed, almond-shaped eyes are a bright shade of amber and that compliments her white-golden hair nicely, which is definitely her most striking feature. She prefers to wear it long, braided to one side to keep it out of her face while leaving most of her wavy curls to cascade down her shoulders. Said face is marked by the strength of her jawline and the stark cut of her cheekbones, but made soft by the warmth of her gaze and the mirth that almost perpetually curls her lips, which are full and inviting and topped with a cupid’s bow. She has a scar over her right eye but it doesn’t detract much from her appearance, having faded a little with age. She speaks clearly and eloquently, though a distinctly Nordic lilt remains in the cadence of her rich, husky voice, and she is vulnerable to fits of haste when enthusiasm grips her -- something she tries, and mostly fails, to masque beneath a veneer of imperturbable professionalism. Aurora means business and feels like she deserves to be taken seriously, something that is unfortunately in short supply for women in her line of work. To aid in that endeavour she has adapted Imperial mannerisms and speech as best she can; her posture is more reminiscent of a lady at the court than the Nord cowgirl she used to be, and her vocabulary has increased in size immensely since her arrival in the Imperial City. Her focus is sharp and almost obsessive; the flipside of her curious gaze and quick mind is that she can often be found sitting perfectly still, entirely engrossed in some creative or intellectual effort, for hours on end. Being a traveler and adventurer, most of Aurora’s wardrobe is forced to be practical, all-weather and all-terrain equipment. Her most common outfit is a sturdy, form-fitting leather ensemble beneath a cloak or a long coat, usually white, tan or black, with a colorful sash wrapped around her waist for a dash of style. Where casual and formal wear is concerned, Aurora has abandoned the clothes she wore as a young adult at her family’s farm (simple tunics and dresses woven from sturdy fabrics) and has instead copied the Imperial style that is so prevalent in Cyrodiil’s capital, up to and including a few proper evening gowns. Sometimes she feels like the only Nord in the world that has done so, but she’s made an effort to give it a personal touch. Many of her clothes are as white as the snow banks of her homeland and that sets her apart. [hr] [B]Personality:[/B] Aurora is, above all else, curious about the world and driven to carve out her own place in it. She is defined by her work and her hobbies, which are diverse and manifold, and has little time for anything resembling a steady social life. She travels all over Tamriel to discover and procure intriguing antiques, artifacts and pieces of art for the wealthy collectors of the Imperial City, many of whom she can count among her clientele. She is an accomplished equestrian and a duelist of some renown, never one to back down from a challenge in either sport, and her paintings -- both portraits and still lifes -- are a nice secondary source of income. And if that wasn’t enough, Aurora plays the lute and sings well enough to have it pay for her meal at the wayside inn while traveling. The only constant is that all of these skills are prominent and valued in Imperial society and therein lies the truth of the matter: Aurora is perpetually running away from her previous life as a farmer’s daughter on the wide tundra of Skyrim. She fights not to become like her brothers and sister, who died as Stormcloaks in the Civil War and never rose above their stations before their untimely death for a pointless cause. Aurora has thrown herself headfirst into an entirely different kind of life. A cosmopolitan, worldly existence, that sees her visiting all cultures and far corners of Tamriel in her quest to develop and elevate herself, and to prove herself as someone worthy of a place in the high society of the continent’s most dominant culture. She hides her background and her lowborn status behind her modest fortune and goes to great lengths to not only appear cultured and refined, but to [i]become[/i] cultured and refined. While she has many, [i]many[/i] associates and maintains a good reputation from Alinor to Necrom, Aurora has very few people she can truly count as friends and has left a string of failed relationships in her wake. She tries to compensate for that by bearing gifts, cheer and stories whenever she visits the people she cares about, but those brief moments of camaraderie are no substitute for the ironclad bonds others forge with their friends and families. Work inevitably calls before long, or Aurora retreats into the tranquility of her solitary hobbies for days on end to recharge and digest what has happened in her exhaustingly dynamic and, frankly, interesting life. This is both a source of regret and a point of pride. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t have it any other way. Her faith in the Divines -- Eight when asked, Nine in private -- is an anchor and a source of comfort to her. Aurora often prays to ask for guidance or reassurance and visits the Temple of the One every time she returns home to speak to the priest about her deepest fears and regrets. She desires to believe that she is on a path that the gods would be pleased with and maintains a strong moral compass. Being in her good graces, one can expect small acts of kindness with regularity and rely on her for support, both spiritual and practical… assuming she isn’t on the other side of the world on another expedition. While assertive and dauntless in the face of danger (you can take the Nord out of Skyrim, but not Skyrim out of the Nord), Aurora has a gentle soul and would rather die than ever be considered cruel. She is closely in touch with her own emotions, relying on them for her creative pursuits, and is also often strongly affected by the emotions of those around her. One of the most important skills she has learned has therefore not been her ability with the blade, nor her aptitude for sorcery; it is the inner strength and balance to stay true to herself and her ideals that she values most. Even in the face of anger, sorrow and grief, Aurora believes in the ultimate benevolence of people and the machinations of the divine; she remains an admirer and pursuer of truth and beauty in all things. [hr] [B]History:[/B] Born in Skyrim on the tundra near Whiterun to a farmer, Halfdar, and his wife, Freyja, Aurora was named for the celestial phenomenon that brilliantly dominated the skies on the night of her birth. Aurora was the fourth child in what appeared to be an ever-growing family, having three older brothers and later gaining two younger sisters during her childhood. The days were long and carefree and frequently spent roaming around with her siblings -- though with admittedly strict instructions not to wander too far, “or the wolves will get you”. Once old enough, they were all expected to help out on the farm, which grew from a small field with a single farmhouse into a respectable estate. Trade with Whiterun was profitable and a series of generous summers and soft winters saw the family’s fortunes soar. At least, that’s what it looked like to Aurora, but the truth was that the farm simply became a bigger farm and they moved from poverty into nothing more than simple comfort. Even at this age, Aurora wanted to be just as tough and strong as her older brothers, and Halfdar humored her. She spent at least two hours on horseback every day from the moment she was old enough to ride, helping her father herd the cattle, and fought just as hard as her brothers did with their wooden swords in their sparring sessions. Freyja, on the other hand, was a bard trained at the College in Solitude in -- what seemed like -- another life and many long, star-studded evenings were spent singing and learning to play the lute around the campfire. Captivated by the stories and legends contained within that the songs conveyed, Aurora always felt the tug of something greater, some existence beyond their farm, but was unable to formulate that into future prospects. One of Whiterun’s elders Named her Brightwind for her great enthusiasm for life and her habit of rushing this way and that, eternally restless. It made no difference in the end and she had already resigned herself to following in her parents’ footsteps as a young adult when their lives were turned upside down. The Civil War broke out, and dragons returned to Skyrim. Aurora, who always had a mind for bigger things, was more preoccupied with the horrifying tales and sightings of the giant winged lizards than the petty conflict between the Empire and some upstart named Ulfric Stormcloak. Her siblings, however, weren’t. The family was split down the middle. Rolf, Maren, Helga, Aurora herself and her parents were either on the side of the Empire or ambivalent about the whole thing, whereas, Aenar, Gromm and Runa sided with the Stormcloaks -- and [i]how.[/i] The family dispute turned into a bitter feud in a matter of days following High King Torygg’s death and the two brothers departed with their sister for Windhelm, fiercely determined to see Skyrim free from the Empire and its laws. The family was devastated. Aurora took it especially hard and when Rolf began spewing talk of taking up arms for the Empire himself, she burst into tears. She had longed for ‘something greater’ her whole life and now it had arrived and threatened to pit her beloved siblings against each other in a war that she didn’t even see the need for. Unwilling to see this grave tragedy play out any further, Aurora gathered her belongings, saddled her horse, wrote a tearful note and departed in the dead of night with little more than a direction: south. She managed to cross the border to Cyrodiil while evading the fighting armies and swooping dragons. Freyja, who had been around the Empire once or twice before settling down with Halfdar, had told Aurora of the wonders of the Imperial City and the young woman headed there, for lack of a better idea. Her singing voice and lute were sufficient to provide her with enough septims to survive all the way down to the capital. What with the war and all, the roads were fraught with peril and Aurora had her first brush with danger when the caravan she tagged along with was beset upon by bandits. The way she fearlessly threw her lute at the nearest bandit earned her the amused approval of the victorious caravan guards and Aurora discovered, to her own surprise, that she had found the whole encounter rather invigorating. Once in the capital, Aurora took up residence in the impoverished Waterfront, lacking the funds for anything within the grandiose and awe-inspiring city walls, and spent her mornings traipsing about the massive city with the coin in her purse that she earned from playing in the inns and taverns the night before. Her feet brought her to a remarkable store, Exotic Wares and Antiques, which contained a collection of items that did far more to spark Aurora’s imagination than the establishment’s name did. Its proprietor, an older Redguard man by name of Azar, silently observed as the wide-eyed Nord girl perused the Khajiiti sandstone sculptures, Dunmeri bone-masks and Akaviri weaponry that were among his wares, for more than an hour. Once it was obvious to him that the blonde woman had an insatiable thirst for it he approached her and struck up a conversation, which Aurora eagerly engaged in. It was one of the first times an Imperial citizen had deigned to speak with her and she latched onto the opportunity immediately. Azar asked about this and that and the smalltalk slowly made its way to Aurora; who she was, where she came from, what she could do. Once she revealed that she owned a horse and was a good rider, Azar’s interest was validated and he smiled a brilliant row of white teeth against the darkness of his skin. He offered her a job. Initially surprised but quickly ecstatic, Aurora accepted. Men like Azar were always looking for hopeless transients without prospects to act as their couriers and Aurora quickly found herself on horseback with a packet of important documents, headed for Anvil to pick up a package from a ship that was soon to arrive. Having already traveled from Skyrim to the Imperial City by herself, Aurora knew how to stay out of trouble and safely made her way to Anvil and back again. The bag of gold that awaited her return, handed over once Azar had extracted a promise of discretion from Aurora, astonished her. Months continued like this, with the Nord girl traveling increasingly longer distances to collect packages meant for Azar. Eventually he even saw fit to send her out with an even bigger bag of gold to procure items that weren’t already his. She never figured out how Azar was so well-informed and he was frustratingly tight-lipped whenever she asked him about the details of his operation. Her frustration grew as Aurora realized that Azar appeared to have no interest in teaching her anything about the trade or making more out of her than a courier. Every farmhand could become a farmer, if they showed the aptitude and the interest, but Aurora wasn’t getting anywhere. She also found it difficult to complain, because he [i]had[/i] taken a chance on her and given her a job while he was under no obligation to do either of those things, but the young woman knew she was capable of bigger and better things. She wanted a profession, not just a job. Aurora never failed to return to him with the packages in her possession in a timely manner, not even when she showed up with a bandage over her right eye after another encounter with bandits. She had armed herself with a simple iron sword by then and all of the sparring sessions with her brothers had not turned out to be for naught. Additionally, dealing with customs officers and city guards all over the province -- and beyond -- had seen Aurora develop her talent for speech and she’d talked her way out of a hefty fine or, even worse, a prison sentence several times while carrying illegal goods like Dwemer artifacts across borders. A year had passed by the time Aurora finally managed to gather the courage to speak to Azar about this, fueled by her growing dissatisfaction. He listened impassively to her (well-rehearsed) pitch about why she deserved to be more than just a courier and what her qualifications were, and said no. Aurora began to protest but he silenced her with a glare before explaining that he did not see the qualities of a protegé in her, and that she was just a wayward country girl taking her first steps into the wide world. Upset and humiliated, Aurora almost quit on the spot, but she needed the money and retreated back home before her emotions got the better of her. She cried, and after she was done crying she did what she’d always done when times were tough: she prayed. A kindly priest by the name of Julius at the Temple of the One talked to her and she opened up to him about feeling like her life was inadequate and her fears that Azar was just taking advantage of her desperation. Julius was wise and kind and he advised her to be patient and keep up hope. Good things come to those who wait, after all. But if things did not improve in time, he warned, Aurora would do well to keep her options open. She returned to work the next morning and didn’t speak a word of yesterday’s confrontation and neither did Azar. Aurora kept Julius’ thoughts in mind, however, and a month and two trips to western Morrowind later she got impatient and announced that she had been offered another job and was strongly considering accepting the offer. It was a bluff. There was no other job, but the ambition and excitement that the Imperial City had instilled in her was now in the driver’s seat. Azar frowned, sighed and, begrudgingly, relented. He knew what Aurora was after and had come to realize he didn’t want to lose an intelligent and reliable employee after all. The taciturn Redguard took her under his wing and began to properly train her as his protege, which Aurora took to enthusiastically. Meanwhile, she sent letters back home sporadically to briefly detail her adventures and reassure her parents that she was still alive -- but she never sent them an address. She was not ready to hear what had happened to her siblings, especially once it became clear that the Imperial Legion and the Dragonborn had violently put an end to the Stormcloak Rebellion. One day, Azar revealed that he had been a treasure hunter when he wore a younger man’s clothes and regaled her with stories from his exploits. Aurora found this hard to believe, coming from what seemed to be a quiet and bookish man, and was astonished when Azar laid her out within seconds after he challenged her to a duel -- and even more so when his left arm crackled with static. He was a mage, a spellsword, and he explained that his connections were based on a network of loyal associates that were either friends or people who simply owed him favours from his days as a capable warrior-sorcerer. Aurora remained in his employ as a courier, of course, but whenever she was in the Imperial City he would teach her everything he knew about swordplay, magic and the best places in Tamriel to find rare artifacts -- and the dangers within. Now that he had opened up, Aurora forgot all about the bitterness and frustration she’d felt at his earlier behavior, drawn as she was to the stories he had to tell and the way his eyes lit up when he did so. In the end, he truly taught her [i]everything[/i] he knew, for they became lovers. Years passed like this until Azar declared her training complete and resolutely ordained that Aurora was now ready to step into the world as a treasure hunter in her own right. He gave her the names of his associates and sent word to all of them that Aurora was authorized to act in his stead, and with a stern glare essentially told her to get out there and prove her mettle. Their affair was over in an instant. It was a shocking experience for the Nord, who had come to believe that the older Redguard loved her in more ways than just the physical. The only other example she had of a relationship were her parents and their marriage. The fact that Azar turned out to be nothing like that was an unsettling surprise at first, and she was hurt, caught in the unfortunate trap of wondering what she did wrong and why he didn’t love her. Once again, Julius the priest was able to provide insight and reassurance -- though he certainly did not approve of Azar’s behavior -- that helped put her mind at ease. “It’s not you,” Julius had said with a warm smile, “it’s him.” Aurora came to accept that Azar was an infallible pragmatist who had simply decided that the usefulness of that part of their arrangement had come to an end. Anything to keep her chained to the Imperial City would have simply held her back, especially an old man like him. Her pain and confusion morphed into silent gratitude, for she knew he would have never accepted any expression of it, and she made her first forays into Tamriel as a full partner of the [i]‘Exotic Wares and Antiques treasure acquisition branch’[/i], as she liked to call it, with an unburdened soul. Her work took her even further now, from the bone-white walls of the mausoleum of Necrom in eastern Morrowind in search of an ebony heirloom of an extinct dynasty to the seaswept cliffs of Daggerfall in order to retrieve a set of silverware that had belonged to a Septim emperor. She delved into a Dwemer citadel with a hired team of mercenaries to bring back a dynamo core, a special request from a scholar at the Arcane University, and accidentally started a forest fire in northern Valenwood while defending herself from the spriggans guarding a shipwreck, mysteriously emerged from beneath the roots of the Bosmeri homeland’s ever-shifting trees. Aurora challenged all the best swordsmen she found to a duel or two and fought the ones that accepted (and the ones that scoffed at her twice as hard), made time to participate in the equestrian races that Cyrodiil’s elite obsessed over and kept up her skills as a musician and a bard while on the road. Back home, in her modest, but increasingly well-furnished, apartment in the City, Aurora discovered the meditative properties of painting and reading, and collected a string of disappointed lovers and failed relationships. The woman appeared to be married to her work and her hobbies and invariably made too little time for her partners. Every angry breakup hurt her and the ones that simply disappeared hurt her even more, but as much as she tried to make more time and devote herself to her partners, Aurora couldn’t resist the call of the road, the canvas and the lute. The frequency of her relationships dwindled and she reached the point where she would preemptively break things off with the men she was dating, knowing full well that she was merely sparing them the disappointment later -- becoming the very thing that upset her about Azar before. The gifts she came bearing and the stories she had to tell made her quite popular with the neighbourhood children, however, and her regular visits to the Temple gave her a steadfast friend through faith and confession. Azar remained where he always was, running the store and connecting Aurora to clients with special requests, in spite of the silver that now dominated his hair. Upon Julius’ suggestion, Aurora finally informed her family of her whereabouts in one of her letters. It had been years by then and he thought it was time that she learned what had happened to her family. Aurora received a thick reply, almost the size of a short novel, that started -- inevitably -- with how much her parents had missed her and had worried about her. Then came the story. Aenar, Gromm and Runa were all dead. Rolf had stayed home in the end and now ran the farm while Halfdar and Freyja enjoyed retirement. Her oldest brother had found a wife, in fact, and Aurora discovered to her surprise that she was an aunt. The letter was deeply bittersweet and when she was finished, she found herself weeping silently for the loss of her brothers and sister… and for herself, for the life she had lost-- nay, walked away from. Time hadn’t stood still for her family while she had been living her adventures and she had missed everything. The funerals, the wedding, the births of her nieces and nephews. Suddenly and acutely homesick, Aurora dropped everything she was doing and returned north the way she came: on horseback. She came bearing gifts, of course, and after the initial and tearful reunion, amazed her family with the finest wines, fabrics and jewelry that Cyrodiil had to offer. Once the initial excitement had died down and Aurora found herself sitting around the campfire with her family like the days of yore, she felt like a stranger in her own home -- and, for the first time, in her own skin. Who was she, a promiscuous hireling, compared to these godly people? She laughed and smiled at her brother's wife and children with pain in her heart. Aurora no longer knew what to feel about the woman she'd become. But, that said… the dirt upon the floorboards, the smell of the pigs and the cattle outside… she also found it hard to imagine that she once lived like this. The farm had hardly grown from what she remembered; hell, it seemed much smaller and filthier. Rolf confided in her that business hadn't been great and a few harsh winters in a row had been bad for the land. Unsure whether to feel pity or sympathy, Aurora offered to help them out with septims but Rolf refused, grateful for the offer but steadfast in his conviction that they weren't a charity case. Aurora was supposed to stay for a month but cut her visit short after a week. She made up an excuse about urgent business, apologised profusely and traveled back south as fast as her horse could carry her. Entering her apartment in the Imperial City, she breathed a sigh of relief -- and found it wanting. The thought that she had been running from caught up to her and she realized that she had abandoned her family in their greatest time of need. She hadn't even bothered to visit the graves of her Stormcloak siblings in Falkreath. Here she was, surrounded by opulence and unimaginable wealth in the City, while her family still lived in the same rural squalor as before, surrounded by nothing but reminders of the tragedy that had befallen them. What gave Aurora the right to simply walk away? How was that the right thing to do? Her visits to the Temple became more frequent and Julius did his best to provide wisdom and support, but the question remained a troubling thought in the back of Aurora's mind, rearing its head at night to plague her with nightmares in which her dead siblings came back to haunt her in the darkness of her home. With even more feverish dedication than before, Aurora threw herself into her work and her hobbies and even refrained from relationships entirely, despite the loneliness she was occasionally forced to squash alone in bed at night. She learned how to keep a straight face when ridiculed or treated in a demeaning manner, something she experienced all too often as she found her way in a world and an industry dominated mostly by men, and her growing confidence prevented her from taking things personally and feeling wounded when they inevitably happened. They were learning moments, she decided. Not for [i]her,[/i] mind you, but for the men that looked down on her and underestimated her because of it, and she grew to delight quietly in their stunned or disgruntled faces whenever she outplayed them. Aurora’s skills as a warrior also continued to increase, learning as she did from both her victories and defeats. A poignant reminder of her mortality lies in the not-so-distant past; armed mercenaries that accompanied her into an Ayleid ruin had to save her from death at the hands of the bandits that had made the place their home. “Never send a woman to do a man’s job,” one of them had grumbled, and that served as inspiration for Aurora to redouble her efforts. She’d prove them wrong, she resolved, until nobody could doubt her ever again. A successful venture in the west now sees her return to Cyrodiil by boat, with only her loyal steed and belongings for company, though that is about to change... [B]Biggest Regret:[/B] Fleeing her home to avoid the tragedy that the Civil War thrust upon her family, leaving them to deal with it without her help while she became an accomplished cosmopolitan without a care in the world. [B]Aurora‘s Goal:[/B] Vindicate her life choices by obtaining a divine artifact, be it Daedric or otherwise, and cement her place in history as someone important and capable, in spite of her gender or background. [hr] [B]Skills:[/B] [b]Expert:[/b] [list][*][i]One-Handed:[/i] One of Aurora’s most favorite hobbies and prized skills is the art of swordplay, fueled by her Nordic love of competition being awakened by the sophisticated fencing duels she observed in the Imperial City. Years of practice and an incessant drive to enthusiastically challenge every blade-wielder she meets to a sparring match have honed her skills considerably and she is proud to count herself among one of the best swordswomen she knows. Her style is quite conservative, preferring to let her opponent show their hand and reveal the inevitable weaknesses in their style for her to exploit, but the finishing touch of her moonstone saber always has something cheeky about it.[/list] [b]Adept:[/b] [list][*][i]Speech:[/i] Her line of work has seen Aurora learn all the skills necessary for a merchant and a procurer of rare goods, like haggling, smooth-talking and market manipulation. She is good at estimating the price of a unique artifact or piece of art correctly in one area and selling it for a markup elsewhere, acquiring services at a discount and coaxing a client into compensating her more generously than they might otherwise have done. She’ll never be as deceptive as an actor or as commanding as a general, but she doesn’t have to be. Another one of her hobbies is singing; she does so quite beautifully, accompanied by her own gentle strumming on the lute. An evening performance at the inn makes for a nice source of pocket money when she’s out on the road. [*][i]Destruction:[/i] Aurora was surprisingly perceptive in her grasp of spellcraft for a Nord and took to it enthusiastically once she arrived in the Imperial City. The raw power of Destruction magic appealed to her and she developed her abilities in that School almost more for the sake of showing off than for any practical reasons. That said, a handful of encounters with bandits, Draugr and Dwemer animunculi have taught her that quick gouts of flame or bolts of lightning are quite effective at dispatching minor enemies, or at creating enough of a distraction for her sword to finish the job in a frantic melee. That is a lesson she hasn’t forgotten. [*][i]Alteration:[/i] The ability to manipulate one’s environment is quite useful in Aurora’s line of work and she uses Alteration in concert with her other abilities to restore the artifacts that are her primary source of income. It also comes in handy when delving into the darkest places of the world in search of treasure, or in a pinch to bolster her defenses and to fight dirty, like literally throwing sand in someone’s eyes with telekinesis. [/list] [b]Novice:[/b] [list][*][i]Alchemy:[/i] Her knowledge of alchemy is lacking when it comes to traditional potions or poisons. Aurora mostly uses this to create useful substances like blade oil, lock grease and silver polish and she uses alchemy together with Alteration to restore art and artifacts before selling them to the highest bidder. [*][i]Athletics:[/i] While you won’t find Aurora marching in full kit for days on end, she is an experienced traveler and doesn’t tire easily. More importantly, however, Aurora can ride on horseback for lengthy periods of time, which is her preferred method of getting around. [*][i]Restoration:[/i] Healing spells are a useful addition to any traveler’s arsenal. Far from a professional healer, Aurora can at least be counted on to mend minor injuries, restore some fatigue to a weary soul or simply cure the soreness of a bum after a full day in the saddle.[/list] [b]Spells:[/b] Fireball, Chain Lightning, Frost Cloak, Healing, Telekinesis, Ironflesh, Waterbreathing. [B]Equipment:[/B] [list][*]Aurora's weapon is an elegant moonstone saber forged by the hands of the Altmer in the days when Alinor was still called Summerset. The grip is long enough for it to be wielded in two hands to enhance the strength of an attack, but Aurora specialises in wielding it in one hand, leaving the other free to cast spells. The crossguard is decorated with gold filigree and precious gemstones, but more important and practical is the enchantment on the blade: it burns red-hot and sets fire to anything it strikes. [*]She also carries a steel dagger as a backup weapon in case of an emergency. [*]Horse tack, a saddle and saddlebags. [*]While not technically equipment, its absence is also worth mentioning. Aurora wears no armor and relies on her skill and Ironflesh spell to protect her from harm.[/list] [B]Misc. Possessions:[/B] [list][*]Chief amongst her possessions is her companion, Charlemagne, a magnificent stallion of Skyrim stock. Hardy, loyal and even-tempered, Aurora's horse is as much a friend to her as anyone else is and she rides him wherever she goes. His coat is mottled gray with white spots. [*]Maps of Tamriel and documents detailing the names and stations of her associates. She has copies at home, of course. [*]Multiple sets of clothing, all well-made and fashionable. [*]A bottle of Cyrodiilic brandy. [*]Food supplies to last her a week. Charlemagne can eat grass. [*]A pouch with 155 septims. [*]A mortar and pestle, an alembic and alchemy supplies for her work. Nothing immediately useful for a healing potion or anything of that sort, however. [*]Two soul gems filled with common souls. [*]Keys to her home, safe and the Exotic Wares and Antiques store in the Imperial City.[/list] [/hider] [s][/s]