Skyrim Character ('s)Name: Railen
Race: Argonin
Gender: male
Age: 26
Appearance: Railen has a dark blue throat, and stomach. His head had several long horns like a dragon's in between is a thick plumage of dark blue feathers that stick up, and out when heavily angered. The rest of his body his a dark grey color, and ice blue eyes he has scars along his arms, and back all of which are bitter memories of his time in Bravil. He has well manicured nails as he has a habit to self groom when waiting for long periods.
Class: Assassin
Occupation: Railen is an Executioner for the Dark Brotherhood.
Personality: He tends to keep quite most of the time. Though once enough ale has been pumped into him it's hard to get him to shut up. Strangely enough he finds little pleasure in killing the innocent, but will accept the contracts given him. No matter how much it may conflict with his feelings on the subject, he makes up for it by helping those he can.
Background:
Railen grew up an orphan on the streets of Bravil, a city where even the most wealthy live in poverty. The houses were dirty, and crime ran rampant through the streets. He'd lived his life as a simple thief it wasn't easy, but it was his life. It wasn't so bad as he wasn't alone he had his friends, which to him was his family. However, their was one that he often had his eye on, a Khajiit by the name of Atrri. Her fur was as black as coal, and as smooth as silk. One day after a big score of a thousand septims, the group Celebrated with a fair sized cake stolen from the local bakery. as it was Railen's fourteenth year of life, their was a candle atop it accompanied by singing. He'd left the house to get some water from the well across the bridge, as they'd run out of refreshment.
When he returned their was nothing waiting for him, but blood. It stained the floors, and walls it was as if an animal had torn them apart. Their throats, and or stomach's cut open he was shaking. Railen could barely breath, but he knew the other pungent smell in the air. That oh so unmistakable stench of Skooma fists began to shak in his rage. Seeing Atrri laying before his feet her hands on her sword. He knelt down taking it from her, as he slowly shut her eyes. He stayed only long enough to say a parting prayer, before sheathing his sword. He stood, and looked out at his home one last time. Before shutting the door behind him, he wanted blood and he'd kill anyone that got in his way.
It was raining heavily the mud covering his boots, as he walked up the steps of the Skooma den. There was only one person inside his eyes narrowing down at the disheveled dark elf. His grip tightening on his sword he was too high on Skooma to even know Railen even existed. It only served to anger the young argonian even further. He slammed the dark elfs head into a wall. Making sure to get the damn creatures attention. The dark elf howled out in pain as they looked at Railen. Beginning to spout nonsense, and mercy.
"Did my friends get your mercy," Railen shouted.
He slammed the dark elf's head once more, he felt a satisfying crunch as he snapped his lower jaw. Yet still the bastard kept murmuring gargling on their own blood.
"Shut up! You don't get to talk," He roared, slamming the elfs head into the wall.
Railen kept beating on the elf gaining a great deal of pleasure from the elfs suffering. Till suddenly the room was silent, and the Dunmer's face was nothing, but a caved in mess. His eyes growing wide as he looked at his hands the blood covering them. He wanted to run out of there, but knew better then that. Stealing was one thing in Bravil, but murder was something that wasn't tolerated by any means. He snuck out the back as quick as could be, soon finding himself running after he was far enough away. He ran to the water jumping into it where the gorge wasn't so deep. He stayed there silently as he watched the blood come off his hands. Though that didn't make the memory of his friends go away, of the horrible deaths over a few meager septims. He stayed in the water till it was late the next day, he'd made sure no one saw him, sticking to the shadows; Where he felt most at home. He soon walked to the shore to be met by an odd laughing man.
"Who are you," Railen asked in confusion.
"I am Cicero mmmm yes you'll do great! I welcom you into a new family. Night mother saw! She saw your most stupendous act," he sang with a cackle, and a clap.
Railen's eyes widened he brandished his sword against Cicero only to be sent spining back into the water with a splash. He surfaced spluttering he hadn't even seen the clown move, yet the pain in his chest told him he had been struck.
"How? How did you do that," Railen asked.
Cicero offered his hand to Railen smiling, he shook it at him in a beckoning manner. As if to tell him to follow him, and find out. Railen smirked, and took Cicero's hand willingly following this clown wherever he went. Becoming a fellow protector of the night mother's coffin, even when they came to Skyrim he never left Cicero's side. He was well aware of the little mans insanity. But, he the man taught Railen everything he knows about killing.
When they met up with Skyrim's sect he was quick to make friends with the leader, by doing exactly as she told him. But, the dragons made life difficult it was during one of his missions, that he discovered how truly evil these monsters were. They had burnt a small defensless village that he'd been staying for the night. He'd helped he could, but it was just too much most of the villagers had died from the smoke inhilattion. The monster killed without thought, it didn't care who it killed it was a mindless monster. He shook his hands balled into fists of anger. As the memories of his family in Bravil swarmed his mind, he heard the roar of the dragon. He swore then, and there that he'd stop these monster where the dragonborn had so clerely failed.
Railen once lived in Cyrodill in the small dirty city of Bravil, he was orphaned by the age of eight. He lived with a small group of thieves, that had knit themselves into a tight family. He loved one of them more then the others a Khajiit by the name of Atrri. On the day of his fourteenth birthday he was once again orphaned by a dunmer drug addict. Railen sought his revenge with Atrii's sword, but instead of slashing into the Dunmer he bashed their brains in with his bare hands. As the Dunmer had begged for mercy, something that had been denied to his family. After the task was done he was put into shock, and sought the safety of the water, and shadows. Where he let the water cleanse him, after he came out the jester Cicero was waiting for him on the shore. He was offered a new family in the Dark Brotherhood, after a small scuffle where Railen got his butt kicked. He joined Cicero protecting him, and the night mother. When they traveled to Skyrim Railen was quick to make friends with those in the sanctuary. It was during one of his missions that he laid witness to the destructie force of dragons. They killed indiscriminetly, remembering his family that he'd had in Bravil he swore to end them all.
SkillsAdept One Handed
apprentice Restoration
Apprentice light armor
Expert sneak
adept lockpick
Apprentice archer
EquipmentShrouded armor, one dwarven dagger, one steel sword, an iron sword heavily polished and unused, ten lesser mana potions, two lesser health potions. dwarven bow, 20 iron arrows
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