For NPC consideration;

[hider Njal the Peacock]

[center][h2]Njal the Peacock[/h2][/center]
[center][sub]
48   [b]|[/b]   ♂   [b]|[/b]   Solitude, Skyrim   [b]|[/b]   Nord  
[sup]_______________________________________________[/sup]
[i]Portrait Artist, Cartographer, Poet[/i]
[sup]_______________________________________________[/sup]
Endurance (Major) Personality (Minor)[/sub][/center]


[center][hider][img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/fc/ba/31/fcba31d6ae03f3176548de6339ede74b.jpg[/img][/hider][/center]

[center][b][sub]══════ A P P E A R A N C E ══════[/sub][/b][/center]

[indent]What one would notice at first glance, is that Njal is incredibly pale - even by Nord standards. His skin occasionally just about as transparent as that of a newborn fish. There have been rumours circulating as to whether the man is actually a vampire - his palor being only one reason. The second that his features, despite him approaching his middle age, are still rather youthful. His long, raven locks don't do anything to dispel such rumours, nor do the smudge-like bags under his eyes. He has never grown or worn a beard, and has in fact an exceptionally androgynous appearance. He is thin, slightly gaunt and stands at a modest and unimposing 170cm. 

Njal carries himself carefully, stepping softly at all times to the point he is naturally near-silent - like a dark, but otherwise nonthreatening spectre. His mannerisms are softer still, his voice whisper quiet and hit motions languid. To the opposite effect, Njal dresses rather flamboyantly. Usually in higher-than-usual gentleman's heels. His shirts are often decorated with ruffles, he has an array of colourful hats, and occasionally feathers or other strangely fascinating materials adorn the rest of his androgynous form. He is the very essence of bohemian and untamed spirit.  

[/indent]

[center][b][sub]═══════ P E R S O N A L I T Y ══════[/sub][/b][/center]
[indent]There is a charming innocence about Njal that is rare in Nords, and is perhaps one of the many reasons he has thrived in Breton society. He is seemingly immune to the judgement of others, and his genuinely gentle nature tends to catch people of guard. Smiling comes naturally to him, and it is not unusual for him to laugh quietly at his own comments during speech. He is not without the ability to somberly dissect a conversation. 

His general absent-mindedness means that it is very likely that he flips between absolute irreverence and then to deep and meaningful speech, wistfully applying romance to the melancholy of a situation, or making a joke at an inappropriate time. The deteriorating disease that has gripped his mind has made him forgetful, and although he spends much of his time entirely lucid, sometimes reality slips away from him, and he can become frustrated or emotional as a consequence which can be incredibly difficult for his peers to handle.
[/indent]


[center][b][sub]═══════ H I S T O R Y ══════[/sub][/b][/center]
[indent]Born in Solitude to a fairly affluent, yet politically and socially insignificant family, much of Njal's upbringing was normal. Unlike many Nords, however, he was able to be properly schooled in Solitude at the Bard's College. Unfortunately, despite having a decent handle over the written word and poetry, music was not his forte, but the boy had always had an affinity for fine art. Even as a child, Njal could be found drawing on the ground with any materials he could get his hands on. 

He worked as hard as he could, and was considered a dilligent, if not quiet student by his tutors. Soon, Njal found himself trying to fit into a mould he simply did not belong in, and his peers began to notice it too. His effeminate and quirky mannerisms were looked down upon and he caught the nickname ‘Peacock’, and was for the most part, ousted from those around him. He felt too different for the harsh and unforgiving world of the Nords, and so when he came of age, he set his sights on High Rock. He was attracted to the haute couture lifestyle that the Breton's so seemed to love, and so off he went - with a dream to make his living creating art. 

His dreams came true, after a rocky start working as a street artist, he began to garner a reputation for himself. Eventually he managed to break into the lucrative world of portrait artistry. If there was one thing that Breton nobles loved, it was hanging stupidly large paintings of themselves around their huge homes. The narcissistic nature of the Breton's only fed his work more - with the nobles consistently trying to outdo each other - each month, it was a bigger painting for a bigger noble, to show off to the lesser nobles... He worked successfully in High Rock doing this, but with each mug he captured on canvas, he felt his own soul withering away.

He felt entirely devoid of inspiration, he'd spent close to two decades traveling High Rock for commission after commission, even a spell as a cartographer did not satisfy him. He missed the carefree days he spent as a young lad creating etchings in the sand with the end of stick. He could afford all of the tools he needed, and yet -- nothing fed him within. Nothing until he stumbled upon [i]her[/i].

It was in Wayrest that he first met a Dunmer performer and contortionist named Ivy. He witnessed her performing incredible feats with her body. Bending her back in such a way that she could fire an arrow using her dextrous toes. It wasn't just the visual spectacle that she created before his eyes... Her flaming red hair and dark skin - not, it was her very essence. The way that she was so carefree, that everything just washed over her like water fell off of a ducks back.

She represented true artistry, she instantly became his muse, and his soul was alight once more. For years he followed her, painting her in every pose, candidly as she sat and ate - her open mouth as she laughed heartily. All of it.

Until the day that she was gone.

Njal had not been prepared to lose her, and without his muse to guide him, he found himself lost in a world he'd forgotten having been under her spell for so long. With her disappearance, his lust for life and need to search for artistic knowledge was snuffed out - a downward spiral occurred. Alcohol became his friend. Under the influence, his paintings became abstract canvases of red and black. Alcohol was not enough to feed the emptiness. Then it was simply any narcotic substance in attempt to recreate the euphoria and clarity that his Ivy stole from him when she left. Slipping further, Njal's paintings became even more surreal, often demonic self-portraits. 

As much as he tried to climb out of the hole he'd dug himself into, he was turned away by the nobility he'd earned his fortune from. As it happens, they did not appreciate being painted in this new style that the Nord had adopted. He was not without all luck, however, and there is a section of Breton society who find his newer work incredibly valuable to the point of him having something of an underground cult status. 

It took years of climbing for Njal to simply find himself on solid ground again. A husk of the enigma he once was - or even more so now? Different people will share a different opinion on the man. Ahead of his time, or simply a talentless hack? Now, Njal remains reliant on substances to get him through each of his days, and as well as that, his mind is steadily deteriorating. Whether this was the addiction, the hand of fate, or the theft of his inspiration, he cannot tell. Only that he wishes more than anything else to find that inspiration once more. 

[/indent]


[SUB][b]▼   S K I L L S[/b][/sub]
[sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
    ► [b]Artifice[/b] - [abbr=Fine arts, cartography  ]Expert[/abbr]
    ► [b]Speechcraft[/b] - [abbr=Mercantile, general bullshittery, poetry ]Adept[/abbr]
    ► [b]Tailoring[/b] - [abbr=Flamboyant fashion icon ]Adept[/abbr][/sup]


[SUB][b]▼   W E A K N E S S E S[/b][/sub]
[sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
    ► [b]Mysterious Illness[/b] - [abbr=Njal is afflicted with a disease of the mind which he keeps hidden, perhaps even he himself is not aware of the full extent of his illness. It causes him to be forgetful, and slowly over time, his personality is deteriorating.]Who am I?[/abbr]
    ► [b]Addiction[/b] - [abbr=Njal has an addiction to alcohol, and while you will never find him stumbling over himself, or passed out in a corner absolutely hammered - there is always a lingering scent of spirits on his breath and good, reasonable judgement is always behind the cloud of his addiction.]Just one more...[/abbr]
    ► [b]Physically Weak[/b] - [abbr=The man has never held a sword in his life, let alone struck another living being with a fist or blade.]Physically Weak[/abbr][/sup]

[SUB][b]▼   E Q U I P M E N T[/b][/sub]
[sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
    ► [b]1 Preserved Peacock Feather[/b]
    ► [b]Selection of Oil Paints and Brushes[/b]
    ► [b]Rolls of Parchment[/b]
    ► [b]Portable Easel[/b]
    ► [b]Sewing Kit with Selection of Threads[/b]
    ► [b]Sample Selection of Fabrics[/b]
    ► [b]Journal of Handwritten Poetry[/b]
    ► [b]A Small Sketchbook and Charcoal Pieces[/b]
    ► [b]Business Ledger[/b]
    ► [b]Coin Purse - 183 Septims[/b]
    ► [b]Dried Meat and Fruit Selection[/b]
    ► [b]Bottle of Alto Wine[/b][/sup]

[/hider]