[hider=Sinalare]
[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjU0LmVmYTk5Zi5VMmx1WVd4aGNtVSwuMA,,/seven-swordsmen-bb.regular.png[/img][/center][hr][B]» Race:[/B][i] Bosmer[/i]
[B]» Sex:[/B][i] Female[/i]
[B]» Age:[/B][i] 50[/i]
[B]» Birthsign:[/B][i] The Steed[/i]
[B]» Origins:[/B] [i]A small village community a small trek from Southpoint, Valenwood[/i][hr][B]» Favored Attributes[/B]
Major:[i] Agility[/i]
Minor:[i] Intelligence[/i]
[B]» Favoured Skills [/B]
Hightly Proficient:[i] Destruction, One-handed (Blade) [/i]
Moderately Proficient:[i] Acrobatics, Archery[/i][hr][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjIyLmVmYTk5Zi5RWEJ3WldGeVlXNWpaUSwsLjAAAAAA/seven-swordsmen-bb.regular.png[/img] 
Sinalare is all speed and toned muscles, with a lithe form well-suited to treks through her native Valenwood’s rough terrain. Though more suited to speed than pure strength, her body is toned, flexible, and acrobatic. While she would lose a contest of pure strength when faced with a larger opponent, she is well used to lifting her own body weight and has a high level of control over her limbs when focused. She is more at home in flexible, patchy armour that allows her a mix of maneuverability and protection. She is tall for a wood elf - the tallest of all her sisters, in fact. Her tanned skin is littered with scars and her hands callused: wear-and-tear earned from years of war and mercenary work. Her hair is messy and cropped short, just long enough that she can tie it back when entering a fight. It often falls in front of her face in disarray, hiding her hazel eyes. Her most notable scar crosses her chest - a vast, bumpy gouge that, without magical healing, clearly would have been a fatal blow. 

Her face rests with a scowling impression, which many, many people have found off-putting; though, when you’re looking to hire a mercenary, Sinalare’s rough looking face sold itself. Her general demeanor isn’t unapproachable, though her face often makes her look that way - on a good day, she’s friendly enough, so long as no one strikes a nerve. When she drinks, her face loosens up and her usually stiff body language loosens up. 

Most often, Sinalare is in armour, since she is typically working as a mercenary. Her armour is a patchwork; the make-shift is made of mix-matched sets she has collected and worked together over her years as a mercenary. The original design is long-lost. However, while between jobs, she typically wears comfortable travelling clothes, often in greens, browns, and grays. While Sinalare is far from shy, the unobtrusive clothes are an advantage should she need to blend in. In armour or not, Sinalare is inseparable from the flask on her hip. [hr][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjIyLmVmYTk5Zi5TR2x6ZEc5eWVRLCwuMAAAAAA,/seven-swordsmen-bb.regular.png[/img]
Sinalare is from a small, quite close-knit village in Valenwood. Her father, Faenlin, was a pelt trader and hunter, while her mother, Sifina, focuses mostly on home life, though when she has the time, she helps with his business and is a capable huntress in her own right. Sinalare has two older brothers and three younger sisters, whom she was close with. Her childhood is remembered fondly, full of family hunting trips for the business and playful rough-housing.

However, the quiet, family oriented life of her parents wasn’t enough to satisfy Sinalare’s ambitions. Throughout her youth, extended family often visited. Most importantly, this included her uncle Banor, who was quite a storyteller. He would regale the children with tales of glory and war, which stuck with Sinalare passionately through her youth. 

When she was 15, in 4E171, the Great War began. For several weeks, she talked incessantly to her parents about joining the military and going off to fight valiantly on behalf of their country, for glory. They, of course, told her she was too young. They told her not to go, and tried to convince her not too. Sinalare refused to listen, and eventually, she ran off to the nearest city, Southpoint, in order to enlist. Having lied about her age, they took her without much complaint, as they needed the numbers. 

So, she began her training, for which she was sent to the Summerset Isles. It was a brief few months, and Sinalare, along her group, excelled  with the bow and sword - or so she thought at the time. They outfitted her as an archer, armed with a light sword in a pinch, and sent her along with the rest of her training group, made up of other Bosmer and a few Khajiits, all the way to the front line in Hammerfell to join Lady Arannelya’s forces. 

Her group was sent all the way up to the front lines. Sinalare's peaceful existence ended abruptly, and with a shock. The camp was run-down, though they were thrilled to receive the supplies that came along with the reinforcements. Unfortunately, the Imperials were not so thrilled, and attacked at sundown, targeting the newly-brought supplies. Sinalare was thrown head-first into a brutal, bloody battle where she could hardly tell friend from foe. The opponents fought by fire-light as supplies and tents raged in a burning inferno. She tumbled from her tent, just barely having fallen asleep, and after being shocked by her surroundings, she roused her companions and rallied them. Fearing that she would lose track of her friends in the fighting, she focused on keeping her small group organized. For what felt like hours but must have been mere minutes, Sinalare and her companions fought tooth and nail to defend their camp, lacking any orders or organization. When at last the officers organized the Dominion forces, to Sinalare’s relief, they drove off the Imperials, though at a great loss of supplies. 

Her first taste of real war was grueling and horrific, and she threw up well into the night over the stench of blood and burning corpses. The rude awakening was discouraging at first, and for miserable hours she cried, wishing to return home, remembering those she had struck down in the night’s confusion. She saw her allies, dead bodies in heaps, and realized just how underprepared she and her friends truly were… They weren’t excellent students; they were cannon-fodder.  However, when daylight broke, she found her friends around her were proud of how she had kept them together. With their encouragement, she applied herself to continuing to train with the rest of the camp, and worked hard alongside their companionship.  She knew how unprepared the group was and she urged them all to improve.  As it turned out, she was talented at it - both the sword, and the role as leader she had adopted among her training group. 

She drew the attention of one of the officers, an old Altmer named Ceadur. He was a mage who quickly became a beloved mentor to Sinalare. He took her under his wing and discovered her affinity towards destruction magic. She excelled quickly, and continued her training with him. She abandoned her role as an archer, and focused all her attention on destruction magic and swordplay. Over the next four years, she fought and trained fiercely on the front lines in Hammerfell, determined to be more than cannon-fodder. She rose in the ranks at an incredible rate for her age, helped along by her mentor, and followed his example of exceptional loyalty to the Dominion. 

In late 174, at 18, she was in command of her own squad, made up of many of her closest friends from the past few years, along with some new, young faces fresh out to the front lines. Sinalare’s friends believed in her ability as a leader, and perhaps more importantly, so did she. So when they, along with a couple other bands, were assigned to a mission similar to the one she had witnessed on her first night at war, she was eager. Sinalare was all fire and fury, and tore through her enemies at a formidable rate, and she inspired loyalty  from her group. They were on a streak of wins, and feeling like they could take on the entire Imperial Army. 
So they crept behind enemy lines, targeting a supply train which was supposed to be only lightly defended. Sinalare’s group attacked from the back. She had a small group of stealthy fighters, those she trained with and friends she cherished. Two other groups would come from the front, louder and larger, just before they would rush in to debilitate the supply train. 

Unfortunately, they only got part of the way through their plan before additional hidden forces attacked them, snapping the Imperials’ trap closed. Sinalare and her group were in the back, blocked off from retreat as the other groups pulled out. The enemy forces descended on them, and as they fought fiercely, Sinalare tried to save her companions. She watched friends fall on enemy swords and die to enemy fire. She herself sustained a fatal injury, sliced across the chest as their stealth mission. As the blood poured out of her, she collapsed on the battlefield. She remained conscious only long enough for her to see her friend, a Khajiit healer, leaning over her, mumbling words and trying to keep her awake. 

When she woke up next, she was in a prisoner cart with an angry scar across her chest. 
In 4E174, she was tossed in a Hammerfell prison, where she remained, nearly forgotten, for six years. She rotted in a dark cell, antsy and on edge, with no companionship and little light. Her only possession remaining was the small, carved-bone ball, made by her little sister, which she hid carefully. She spent her time raging at the guards, from hysterical to exhausted in a matter of seconds. She exercised, scraping her skin against the rough stone floor as she had little protection. In her mind, she held onto one idea: she would get out, and she would fight for her country again. 

But the years dragged on. She had no news from the outside. The last she had heard of her family was of her mother’s pregnancy. She wondered how long had it been. Was her new sibling healthy? She months turned into years, and Sinalare lost hope. She waited and wasted away. Though she held with the Green Pact throughout her life, after a few days without food, she could no longer resist even the stale bread when they tossed it through the slot in her cell. She focused on one thing: her survival. 

As the war had continued in Hammerfell, Sinalare was not released until the Second Treaty of Stros M’Kai, in 4E180. However, the small prison she was in held mostly local criminals, and it was only by chance that she was left there. Instead of being sent back with a group, the guards left her outside the prison with only the clothes on her back. Having lost her faith in just about everything she believed in, she instead became a vagabond, a wandering mercenary. For the next two years, she wandered Hammerfell, avoiding large cities and gatherings, which were intensely stressful after six years of little human contact. War with the Dominion ravaged southern Hammerfell. Though they were long gone, the sentiments towards a wandering Bosmer were unkind. She set sail for Elsweyr once she had enough coin saved. 

Booze was her unwavering friend. Elsweyr was kinder than Hammerfell, and she fit in a little better. There were other veterans around, and she joined up with a mercenary group in 4E187 which included many. 
It was a relief to have someone else giving the commands; the fear she gained after her failure told her to never give orders again. So, she became comfortable in the mercenary band, and she stayed in Elsweyr, hopping from different mercenary companions in different parts of the province for twelve years. She was afraid to stay too long in one group, and avoided getting attached. Her life became a routine existence of fighting for money and then blowing it all on booze; her drunken stupor rarely left her. At times, she retreated to the wilderness, overwhelmed by the company of others and used her hunting skills to keep herself going. Tormented by nightmares and unable to get over her losses, Sinalare spent the years after the war alive, but hardly living. She had a thousand acquaintances -  drinking buddies especially - across Elsweyr, but not one friend.

In 4E199, Sinalare was drinking in Orcrest. Due to an unfortunate combination of a nightmare, an alcohol-induced nap outside, and finally, an unlucky bystander’s kindness in trying to wake her up, Sinalare’s time in Elsweyr met a rather bloody end as she fled the city guards. 

After that, she found herself in the forests of Valenwood, home again at last. She hardly knew how she found herself there - she walked the whole way, only focused on running [i]away[/i] rather than [i]toward.[/i] Once there at the edge of the Green, she turned away. The guilt of her past actions and lack of adherence to the Green Pact after her imprisonment drove her from Valenwood’s familiar trees and she went north. She hardly trusted herself around other for several years, and mostly travelled off the roads, only stopping in cities for alcohol, which she often stole if she couldn’t sell her game or her services as a mercenary. Over the next six years, her city visits grew more and more common as she readjusted.

By 4E206, she found herself in Daggerfall, having just completed a mercenary job and intending to blow all her coin on drinks before she moves on… [hr][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjIyLmVmYTk5Zi5VR1Z5YzI5dVlXeHBkSGssLjAAAAAAAA,,/seven-swordsmen-bb.regular.png[/img]
Sinalare’s personality is often like a field of landmines. While on the surface, she is often boisterous and fairly jovial. She is quick to learn about her companions, which helped her to be a good leader while at war, and often joins in with friendly teasing. She might know a lot about the people around her, but she struggles to express sympathy and will avoid the personal struggles of others when possible. At best, this makes her awkward, and at worst, downright mean. 

Sinalare’s demeanor can change on a dime. If questioned about her past, she immediately closes up, becoming rude and short. When there is any sort of physical threat, she embraces it, releasing a violent side of herself. She relishes in fights, and holds the belief that the world is inherently violent - there’s no point in fighting against violent action, so instead she revels in being good at it. She isn’t downright bloodthirsty, and has had many a bar brawl without killing her opponent, however when it comes down to it, she has no hesitation about killing, especially on the job. She takes her mercenary work rather seriously - a job is a job, simple, and she completes them without question. 

When sober and working, she is typically on her guard and always aware of her surroundings, but she easily falls into the trap of loosening up as soon as alcohol is involved and quickly loses her finesse. Alcohol makes her friendly, and she becomes more indifferent to her own problems and others’. She is not often an angry or violent drunk, but instead these traits come out while she is sobering up. 

She has, thanks to her time in prison, a crippling fear of ever going back. At the simple threat of being locked in any sort of enclosed space sends Sinalare into a rage where she will fight tooth and nail to avoid it. Her claustrophobia extends further than only being imprisonned. When she was first released, she could hardly go inside buildings. Though she has improved past that point, she still often fears being in dark caves or rooms without windows and the like. 

Sinalare avoids responsibility at all costs. Having failed her friends while in command, she swore she would never again be in charge of anyone at all. She will never be a leader again. 

Because of her upbringing, Sinalare is very comfortable living off the land. She has a great sense of direction and often feels most comfortable away from large cities. Part of her longs for her childhood, in Valenwood. Once she broke the Green Pact, nihilism kept her from trying again, and guilt kept her from returning to her family in Valenwood. The additional guilt of so much blood on her hands makes her afraid to face her family, especially her younger siblings. She often believes she should have died with her allies in Hammerfell, rather than being taken prisoner, but she clings desperately to her own life because it is a gift that her friend gave her at the expense of her own in those last moments, leaving her the scar on her chest as a reminder. [hr][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjIyLmVmYTk5Zi5SWEYxYVhCdFpXNTAuMAAAAAAAAAAA/seven-swordsmen-bb.regular.png[/img]
» Mis-matched set of armour
» A steel one-handed sword, well used and well maintained
» A couple pairs of travelling clothes
» Her trusky flask and a waterskin
» Coin purse, currently holding 52 septims[hr][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjIyLmVmYTk5Zi5UV2x6WXk0Z1VHOXpaWE56YVc5dWN3LCwuMAAAAAAAAAAA/seven-swordsmen-bb.regular.png[/img]
Sinalare travels light, but she has held onto a carved ball, made of bone, which was clearly carved by a child due to its bumps and lack of artistry. [hr][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjIyLmVmYTk5Zi5SbUZ0YVd4NUlDWWdZWE56YjJOcFlYUnBiMjV6LjAAAAAAAAAAAA,,/seven-swordsmen-bb.regular.png[/img]
[i]Family:[/i] Sinalare has a large family in Valenwood, though she lost contact with all of them. Her parents and five siblings were well before she left. While she was enlisted, she often sent letters home to her village, as well as money whenever she could. Once she was imprisoned, she lost contact with them and even once she was released, she never re-established a connection out of guilt, and cowardice. She hasn’t seen or had contact with any of her relatives since she left Valenwood in 4E171. 
[i]Other Associations:[/i] Most of those she knew in the Dominion army were killed when she was captured. There are still many who would recognize her, though she would avoid them at all costs. Her former mercenary comrades and acquaintances remain in Elsweyr, as far as she knows. [hr][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjIyLmVmYTk5Zi5VM0JsYkd4ei4wAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA/seven-swordsmen-bb.regular.png[/img]
» Thunderbolt 
» Lightning Cloak 
» Chain Lightning 
» Incinerate 
» Lightning Rune
» Whirlwind Cloak[/hider]