[hider=Cyllandra] [center][img]https://i.ibb.co/98QNmsp/Cyllandra.png[/img][/center] [center][quote=Cyllandra]Look at those bastards run! You would think they never saw a minotaur before.[/quote][/center] [b]Name:[/b] Cyllandra but people usually call her Cyl [b]Birth:[/b] 3E 376 [b]Birth sign:[/b] The Lover [b]Race:[/b] Bosmer [b]Gender:[/b] Female [h3][b]Appearance:[/b][/h3] Her light brown, sharp-featured, almost vulpine face was what you expect from a Bosmer to look like. She could be considered pretty but the slight frown which seemed like it was constantly etched on her face made approaching her a little harder. This and the looks she could give with her eyes as if she was always ready to pounce. Perhaps she was. Her hazel coloured eyes hid intelligence but also a deep sadness behind it. When she was younger she used to wear her wavy, brown hair down but now decided to tie it back in a messy bun to keep it out of her way when fighting. She is small, standing at 5ft3, her body slim and fit. She moves light footed, quick but gracious and always with a purpose. Although she is seventy-two in age she looks, her being mer, like a young adult. She has some small scars on her arms from training and combat and a large one that covers her back. She wears a green/brown sleeveless tunic made out of spider silk, brown breeches made out of the same materials and high leather boots with straps. On her left wrist she wears a bone and feather bracelet, another reminder of her home. On both her upper arms she has a small armband made out of senche tiger fur. [h3][b]Personality: [/b][/h3] When she was younger she learned how to play the flute and enjoyed this very much. Still now she plays her flute from time to time as a way to relax and feel connected to her home, closing her eyes and losing herself in those moments. That is when she lets her guard down. A follower of the Green Pact though not as fanatic as those who'd eat their fallen enemies, a custom she considered backwards and barbaric and only a small number of Bosmer in Valenwood still practiced. When asked about her 'only meat' diet she once joked by saying that at least no one ever tried to force her to eat her veggies. Her faith in the Empire lost many years ago, an Empire she thinks of as weak and corrupt, she tries to help out anyone who needed her and wanted her help. Even if the Empire would let down its people, Cyllandra would not. This being one of the reasons why she ventured into Cyrodiil. She lost a lot during the Five Year War and many of her childhood friends never made it back home. Because of this she developed, deep inside her, the fear of losing those who are dear to her. Often she would reprimand or give looks of disapproval to those who, in her opinion, behaved like fools or act without thinking. She is very cautious about opening up to somebody or forge bonds which she considers to be a weakness. This also comes forth from her fear. Still, in the time she has spent in the company of Isobel and her crew of...misfits, as Cyllandra would sometimes call them (her included), she realized that she unwillingly grew closer to them and even caught herself laughing at times. Something she hadn't done in a very long time. She likes people who are willing to help where others refuse, who are intelligent and show to be capable. Those are traits she sees in Isobel and considers her to be a good leader. Since the Empire does not aid its people but instead lets it suffer, the people need to take matter into their own hands. Cyllandra believes that with Isobel they will be able to do that. [h3][b]History:[/b] [/h3] Valenwood. A vastly green sea of magical groves and forests with its enormous graht-oaks and the blue rivers that cross through its wild, dense jungles where senche-tigers and other creatures such as thunderbugs or haorvors prowl and prey on those unlucky enough to cross their path. A perfect mix of beauty and cruelty, according to some, and home to Cyllandra. She was born as the youngest of two, her having an older sister called Ciindri, in a small tribe living close to the Xylo river. It was a simple life but one that Cyllandra even now still looks back to with feelings of joy and nostalgia. She was a happy child with a love for dancing and music, her favourite instrument being a bone flute her father taught her to play. From an early age she started to learn how to use the bow, just like her ancestors, by watching others before being taught how to use the bow properly. Most of it she learned from her sister who always supported her and who Cyllandra loved with all her heart. She gradually learned how to correct herself by shooting arrows in the air, watch their trajectory and see how the wind or distance affected the path of the arrow. Focusing on accuracy became more important after she had familiarized herself enough with her bow. By the age of fourteen, an age where Bosmer are told they are able to handle themselves with the bow, she joined a hunting party of her tribe, shooting and killing her first antelope not long after. When Cyllandra turned eighteen rumours had spread through the forest that wood caravans bound for the Valenwoods were being targeted and raided by khajiiti bandits thus preventing the Bosmer from acquiring much needed resources. Since the Green Pact did not allow them to cut down trees or hurt the forest in any way, they relied heavily on these trading caravan from outside Valenwood. When the raids did not stop but instead even increased, the Bosmer treethanes decided that they had enough of the brutality and boldness of the Khajiit and gave the order that a punitive expedition would be led into Elsweyr. Cyllandra realized that war would be imminent. During the early days of the war she spent a lot of time scouting or patrolling the border with her unit, moving without a noise through the forest or lying in ambush. It was after one of these ambushes that she found a short but well crafted curved sword on the body of a Cathay-rath. At least in her hands it looked like a sword but for the Khajiit it had been probably more of a dagger. He had been rather big and sturdy, and it had taken at least five arrows before he finally died. Though she wasn't used at all to holding a sword, the handle felt strangely good in her hand and she decided to take it with her, thinking it to be a pity to leave it since the Khajiit did not need it anymore. Later however the war, that had been exciting for Cyllandra at first as she wanted to teach those Khajiit a lesson, turned for the worse and ended in pain, grief and disappointment. She got wounded badly during the battle at the 'Heart of Anequina' in Elsweyr. A Khajiiti soldier attacked her from behind and left his claw marks across her back from her right shoulder to her left lower side. He almost finished the job but was killed by others coming to her aid. She was carried off the field and only heard later that she had lost almost her entire unit, mer with whom she had shared joys and sorrows, when their position got overrun by a charge of ferocious senche-raht. A truce was called and broken, her village by the Xylo river got burned down with almost no survivors and the Parikh tribe, supported by the Altmer, forced in their bloody violence the many other tribes to flee to the north of Valenwood. The war had escalated with the Bosmer having to fight on two fronts. The Empire did nothing to stop it. Weren't the Bosmer also subjects of the Emperor? Many more lives were lost, one of them being the person she loved the most in the whole world: her sister. When news had reached her that her sister had been killed, Cyllandra cried for days. When she finally stopped she felt empty and drained. The happy child she once had been was locked away in a cage made of scars in the darkest corners of her memories. The Empire had done nothing. Years of peace followed after the war. The Bosmer had lost territories to both the Altmer and the Khajiit. Territories they would never get back. Cyllandra had grown more distant and left her tribe, worried that another war would come she vowed to prepare herself. The scar she had gotten on her back was a constant reminder that she lacked the proper means to defend herself. She still had the Khajiiti curved sword, even though she had wanted to toss it into the river or a ravine many times since the end of the war, remembering how it had felt in her hand that first time she held it. There was no place to learn how to use a sword in Valenwood and she realized there was no better place to learn how to wield this blade than Elsweyr. The irony of it all did not escape her. In Rimmen she found someone willing, albeit surprised and amused to meet a Bosmer with an interest in the sword, to train her. He was an older Khajiit and a veteran of the war and though his training routines were harsh, his voice always remained calm and friendly, even complimenting her from time to time. She did not trust his silvery tongue at first, keeping the thought in her mind that she wasn't there to be friends and that he was just a tool, a means to an end but in truth she found him somewhat...like-able. For a Khajiit. During the Oblivion Crisis she escorted refugees from Cyrodiil, fleeing from the Daedra onslaught, into Valenwood. She kept watch and patrolled the northern border in case the Daedra would turn their gaze to her home. Later she would hear stories on how the other provinces were left to fend for themselves during that time with the Empire even withdrawing their Legions from the provinces to defend Cyrodiil. In her opinion, the Empire again had abandoned its citizens in their time of need. With the last of the Septims dead, Tamriel was in chaos. Fights broke out about who was going to be Emperor, straining the already diminished trade caravan into Valenwood even further. With Thules the Gibbering crowned as the new Emperor, people hoped that peace would be restored. It didn't. Lately disturbing things had reached her ears about Bosmer disappearing or being sold into slavery or other foul practices. What little trade caravans that still went into Valenwood complained about taxations and rising cruelty. Cyllandra ventured into Cyrodiil to see for herself and find out what had happened with the missing Bosmer only to be captured when she tried to free some of her brethren. Bound and caged she was soon transported with the rest of them. Not knowing where they would go and what fate had in store for them. That was when Isobel arrived. [h3][b]Attributes:[/b][/h3] major: Agility Minor: Intelligence [h3][b] Skills: [/b][/h3] [u]Expert:[/u] Archery: Well uh...Bosmer? Her skills of the bow are finely tuned, using the style of snatching and releasing in one fluid motion even in the heat of battle without a problem. [u]Adept: [/u] Sneak: She knows how to move quietly, blending in with her surroundings. It proved very useful when hunting both animals and her enemies. Blade: Learning from her Khajiiti tutor, she knows how to handle her blade, moving with an elegant style but merciless like the desert storms of Elsweyr. Athletics: The vast forests of Valenwood offer a lot of challenges for the body, therefore she is used to long, tiring treks. She knows the limits of her body. [u]Journeyman: [/u] Illusion & Alteration: Not too long ago she started to teach herself some spells she found useful and could help in their fight against the Count. Sometimes if you want to defeat an enemy, you have to take away his ability to fight. Medium armour: She knows how to care for her armour, which she does everytime before and after a battle, realizing its importance. When armour fails it can be fatal. She can maintain and repair her armour herself but not make an entirely new one. [b]Spells:[/b] Oakflesh, muffle, calm, fear [h3][b]Equipment: [/b][/h3]Composite bow made out of horn, adorned with feathers (the same one she carried with her since her first hunt), a quiver with some arrows (bird bone arrows but also some she 'liberated' from the Count's men), her khajiiti short curved sword which she dubbed 'Moonblade', leather chest armor, vambraces and greaves all well fitted decorated with carvings of leaves and flowers. [h3][b]Belongings: [/b][/h3]Flute made of bone, a skinning knife, A rolled up leather toolset, a green travelling cloak for cold nights and in which she can wrap around her body when sleeping, a small pouch with 20 septims on her belt. [u][b]Misc.:[/b][/u] She considers the Altmer as traitors and alliance breakers, almost feeling joy when she heard how they had suffered during the Oblivion Crisis.[/hider]