I'm in desperate need for my RP fix! Can I join?!
Hjalbir Starsight Age: 25 Race: Nord Gender: Male
Appearance: Hjalbir is very tall, even for a Nord. Standing at 7'7, he towers over men, mer and beast alike, and with his lean but muscular physique many people have mistaken him for a small Giant. He has a silver-white hair that he keeps in a caesar cut, and the years of soldiering Skyrim's winters had chiseled his face and gave hard and early lines. He isn't exactly handsome, with his aquiline nose, thin arching eyebrows and large lips, but he still catches many an admirer through his eyes. They are grey-blue, speckled with dots of shining silver, and many people compared it to star metal.
Skills and Talents: Hjalbir was exceptionally skilled with a bow at an early age, and his unnatural eyesight tremendously helped him with his trade. Surprisingly for a man of his size, he is also incredibly adroit, able to climb walls and cliff-faces with respectable acrobatics. When required at the frontlines, Hjalbir can a exercise a journeyman level expertise with a sword. With his size and his courteous speechcraft (but mostly due to his size), he is also a capable haggler.
Personality and Outlook: Hjalbir is an oddity among his nordic brethren. Compared to the average Nord, he almost seems subdued. He doesn't share the traits his brethren are known for, and replaces it with a personality as cold as the winters of Skyrim. He is aloof to the point of being indifferent, acts in a mild-manner that strike people as a courteous enough but rather lacking in enthusiasm, and speaks when only spoken to or if the situation requires for it. He has no humor in his dazzling eyes, and his mouth is obviously unaccustomed to smiling. There is an intensity of order and focus about him, and people close to him say he is the embodiment of the word grim.
His outlook is pretty much the same with his personality. He sees the world in the eyes of realist, and harbors no illusions about its or her denizen's inherent cruelty. He is calm and collected in otherwise volatile situations, and always prefer to solve problems with civility first and violence second. In combat, he is a student of practicality and follows no rule. He would use cheap and dirty tactics to claim victory, and would do so as fast as possible.
Weapons and Armor: He is clad in a shirt of chainmail underneath a padded leather jerkin, and wears a white-wolf furcloak and a Stormcloak scarf for colder elements. Likewise he wears an expensive but practical set of white fur boots to match the color of his cloak.
He wields a large and heavy bow custom made for his hands alone. It is a monstrosity of six feet, made from the bones of a rather infamous giant, and laminated with its hardy skin and a rare woodbark found only in the most northern premises of Skyrim. Its penetrating power is rather than legendary; said to puncture through steel plate, flesh and any other behind it.
For close quarters, he wields a thick Imperial broadsword.
Brief History: He was a mercenary for hire, working to support his sister's education in the College of Winterhold, when he was mistakenly captured by Imperial authorities during a contract. He was lumped together with the Stormcloak rebels, and was lined up on the block to be executed. Something interfered and he escaped. He got away from Skyrim and returned to his life as a drifting mercenary, trying to find lucrative work for himself and for his sister, who now studies in an academy in High Rock.
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I wanna slap people and tell them I love them
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