Thanks for adding to this thread, Phon. These description pages are great, aren't they? I'll have to read her biography and stats when I have more time.

You're welcome, it was good to make a new character profile after all this time.

A couple more thoughts on Kaia...

What I always find interesting about characters within the world, with whom I interact, is how I learn more about them the longer I spend with them.

Kaia is no different in this respect.
I'm constantly, pleasantly surprised by her compassion for others when to be fair, she owes nobody anything and could be completely forgiven if she were to be supremely uncaring and antisocial. She's not however; romantic and passionate, caring, deeply empathetic, and given to random acts of charity, she lives and breathes a form of liberal religion that encompasses practically every available deity in one form or another.

She has a strong sense of right and wrong which she communicates to her daughters, all the while teaching them to be strong and to stand up for themselves, constantly pointing out others whose example they should follow; Adrienne Avenicci for one is a woman whom Kaia respects hugely, and obviously Ysolda is another.

Certainly she can be hard-nosed and uncompromisingly blunt when she needs to be and is frighteningly efficient when it comes to dealing with people whom she feels deserve it, but there is nonetheless an underlying and very real sense of decency about her which Ysolda, in conversation with her friends, has often mentioned and not without some surprise particularly given her history and species.

But it's not all plain sailing:
She has some fairly major issues with Argonians; a deep-seated and abiding dislike for them that extends far beyond the fact that one of her tormentors during her captivity was one. She stays in the Bee & Barb when she's in Riften only out of necessity, not wishing to stay underground in the Guild, but would almost rather live in the Rat-Run than spend 2 minutes in the company of Keerava or Talen-Jei.

Ysolda has talked to her about this, it being really their only point of contention but Kaia is unwavering in her dislike, to the extent of literally refusing to have any dealings with them at all and referring to them as "conniving, slimy-skinned lizards" with a shudder that is only too real.
It remains to be seen whether Kaia's attitude will change, but Ysolda suspects it won't, it seems too deep-seated for that.

It's a shame really, because despite everything, she's a good person.

My gosh, I never filled in Laprima's sheet? Come on now....


Name: Laprima Anne Donnaugh

Platform: PC

Status: Active

Race: Imperial

Gender: dame

Age: Shall check this later (at home)

Sign:

Home: Solitude's Blue Palace

Spouse: none. Her fiance is Chamany Lacroix

Home Country: Cyrodiil > Imperial City > Aristocratic District

Faction and Rank or Guilds: Imperial Ambassador. She is also a member of Bard's College and was working at the Winking Skeever as a bar wench. 🍺


Faction Description: As an ambassador, her main duties are to spread Jarl Elisif's word to different Skyrim holds.

As a 'member of Bard's College' she merely joined to gain access to Speechcraft lessons. In imagination, she was also becoming an actress, which got interrupted by the war.

Class: Noble

Class Description: a member of privileged society.

Alignment: Neutral Good with Lawful tendencies

Dragonborn? ... LPD is not Dragonborn.

Skills and talents: Majors =
Minors =

Tabletop Talents: Architecture {former student}(2), Blade (1), Bow (2), Charisma (2), Chemist (2), Horsemanship (1), Literacy (1), Silent Movement {in training} (1), Thief (2)

Spells: Heal Self (1)

Physical Appearance:


Eyes:

Build: Toned, yet she's an example of cultured life with little demands on physicality. During the time of her story her arms, shoulders, and tummy becomes strengthened due to Marksmanship, and her legs and waist becomes firmer due to walking & running the roads

Weapons of preference: Bows. She also has a magical Staff of Fireballs.

Clothing: Generally upper-class when dealing with members of nobility or royalty, but she's not afraid to "dress down" as well.

Miscellaneous: Laprima Donnaugh was created in 2017. My idea with her was I'd eventually write a story about her twentysomething life, but her actual story didn't begin until 2022. Partially because I wanted to get the main quest done first, yet it took until 2021 for this to happen!

Anyway, the final result was: a lot of planning and ideas went into her backstory, first.


Backstory & Main Story: Laprima Donnaugh grew up in the Imperial City's Aristocratic District (added by Better Cities / Oblivion). Her father is a bureaucrat and merchant, her mother was a homemaker who is also related to Jarl Elisif. This blood relation makes Laprima a member of nobility, though not a member royalty.

Laprima's brother disappeared sometime near the year 190, in the Fourth Era, and was never found. This caused sister years of depression and listlessness; her mother to go catatonically insane. Her father continued to be the breadwinner of the household, while Laprima delved further into schooling.

She became a top student in her Architecture classes, but also got involved with petty crimes in the city along with her best friend Siouxie Ballion. Her architect's classes had several lessons on lock design, Laprima eventually became adept at picking locks. She was caught twice for theft, and finally arrested for breaking into the city's Red Diamond Jewelry, a long-established Market District shop with origins dating into the Third Era.

After her arrest, her father gave the ultimatum: any more crimes, and she'd be legally disowned. Around the same time she met Chamany LaCroix, an older student who was studying Merchandise. Fell in love. Her father approved, being a longtime merchant, himself. Looked as though the pair of lovers was soon to be wed.

But Chamany had larger plans in mind that just being a student. He got involved with the skooma trade of Bravil, and eventually found himself with a deal to move a huge amount of moon sugar products from Bravil to Solitude in Skyrim. To do this, he'd need to move to Skyrim. He asked his future wife if she'd like to go with him, and she agreed, yet there was a catch. He would move into the northern province first. She could not join him right then; she was still in the middle of school, and wanted to finish.

As it turns out, this was fine with LaCroix. She could be in charge of the shipment itself! Problem was: she did not know what she was moving; nobody'd told her she'd be on a boat with dozens of crates of skooma, they told her she'd be moving tea.

Once in Solitude, the shipment done (and being sold all across Skyrim soon enough), Laprima received seven-thousand gold (from my perspective, she is perhaps my only character who began their game already loaded with coin!). Meanwhile, her aunt Elisif immediately began goading Laprima with 'things to do': she could become a clerk for the Legion, she could join the Bard's College, and so on. One thing she would not be doing is nothing. Nothing could lead to more petty crimes and recalcitrance!

Laprima agreed that idle hands leads to an idle mind, but ignored her haughty, overbearing aunt's suggestions. Her first choice was to get a job, an actual low-paying job as a wench at the Winking Skeever. She discovered this was a great idea; she enjoyed the challenge of dealing with the public, and hey, she wasn't doing anything illegal!

Chamany eventually was arrested after several skooma dealers were caught, and fingers were pointed his way. Laprima was not implicated, probably due to auntie's influence. The Civil War between Skyrim's Stormcloaks and the Empire's Legion had begun the previous week, and Jarl Elisif found herself battling privately against Castle Dour's General Tullius, who wanted the jarl uninvolved with the war.

But Elisif would not just stand down to Tullius; Elisif wanted involvement too, if only to influence delegatory matters. She needed an advocate. Laprima, Elisif's niece, wishing to further the Empire's cause, decided to take up the mantle. Niecy became Elsif's main ambassador.

Thought I would do this for my two recent characters to set their backgrounds in Seeking Solace and Season Unending. They're both relatively fresh, so why not?

Character Sheet:

Name: Cain Windborne

Race: Redguard

Gender: Male

Age: 29

Sign: The Warrior

Home Country: Cyrodiil

Faction and Rank or Guilds: Formerly Fighter's Guild, and briefly with The Companions. Now a Prince of Skyrim and heir to the throne

Faction Description:

Class: Scout

Class Description: Lightly armored and extremely adept with a blade, Cain is quick on his feet and dances through the ranks of the enemy, his sword an entrancing blur that hums through the air while his foes fall before him. Comfortable with a bow, he will not hesitate to thin the herd before entering direct combat, especially when mages are involved.

Skills and talents: His skill with the blade is unmatched and he swings his silver longsword, Ariessa, with a grace that few possess. His training in the Fighters Guild as a field medic offers an unexpected penchant for healing and restoration magic. And his lineage comes with the fabled dragon blood and a powerful arsenal of Shouts.

Physical Appearance: Cain Windborne

Eyes: Brown

Build: Tall and fit, not overly muscular

Weapons of preference: Sword and bow

Clothing: New Leather Armor

Miscellaneous:

Magic abilities or powers: Adrenaline Rush, poison resistance, and the Thu'um

Mental Profile/Personality: Cain is loyal and friendly but has lived a mostly solitary life. He had few friends and no family when he arrived in Skyrim, so he threw himself into his work as a Companion. Devoting his prayers to Tava, a Redguard Goddess, he had no idea how much that would play into the next chapter of his life. While not as charismatic as his younger sister, he possesses a kindness that is endearing to others, and he is just as loyal to those around him.


Biography/Life History: Born to Ariessa Janeel in 4E 200, Cain grew up in Anvil without a father. But his mother was a strong woman herself and she raised him to be honest, practical, and self reliant. Upon her passing in the year 229, Cain decided it was time to leave Cyrodiil behind and quickly accepted a mysterious offer to join the Companions in Skyrim. Little did he know that his entire life would soon be turned on it's head.

Thanks, Kane! Very helpful to put faces to the names I know from your story.

Thanks for adding Cain and Linneá Windborne, Kane! Why was Cain with the Companions "briefly"? is it because of becoming a *spoiler* in early stages? Like he *spoiled* into a *spoiler* and this wasn't something he wanted to continue? I get it, if so.

I like that he named his longsword! - His green chestplate is purty.

Linneá's backstory is compelling. Kyne's Champion. She frightens me a little bit.

He agreed to join them as a way to leave Anvil behind. What he didn't know was that a certain Divine was pulling those strings from the shadows in an effort to get him in Skyrim. At the time, he did not know about his lineage.


That's valid, haha. During my actual playthrough with her and Serana, that particular blend of skills became severely overpowered, especially once she got up over level 50. I'll spoiler this next blurb about that because it's the culmination of her story:

Ya know, it occurred to me just now that I haven't been utilizing an installed mod for just this purpose. Skyrim Character Sheet is a wonderful tool to follow progress with and I've all but ignored the hotkey for it. I suppose that sort of thing can happen when you have 933 active mods.

HOLY [censored] NICE ADDITION, Kane!!! Yet another mod to geek over my Skyrim with!

Here is my character some of you may have remembered. I have a good portion of his story (with his sister Daemyra) written in my files. He's my main character in both Oblivion and Skyrim. Draken was a name he later used, along with with Dacien, and other variations throughout his long years, but he was born with the name Decentius.

Since ESO is long before his time, I play as his ancestor in that game. This is his backstory, which barely scratches the surface of what happens in his life. Not sure if I'll post their revamped and revised story here, which is why I won't get into too much detail in his bio. His sister also has a character sheet, too!

BIOGRAPHY

Lord Decentius Decumus was born in 3E 109 to Lord Crassus and Lady Lassinia, where he was raised at Castle Decumus, secluded deep in the Nibenay Valley. He was educated as any Nibenese lord was meant to be. He learned how to fence, ride, and speak eloquently, traits that would come in handy later in life. In childhood he was loud, brash, forever tugging his younger sister Daemyra out of her books and into trouble: mock duels in the courtyard, half-serious boasts about riding out one day as a knight or soldier of the Empire was most of his days. When he was yet young, his mother Lassinia died under circumstances no one in the household would plainly explain, and the refusal of his father to speak of it changed Decentius. His father withdrew into a colder version of himself, and his sister lost her spark of innocence. The castle became a prison to Decentius, and he began to believe he would either suffocate or go mad there. He eventually made his choice.

In early 3E 125, at sixteen, he decided to join the Knights of the Nine much to his father’s disapproval. He defied Crassus and set out on the Pilgrimage of the Nine, seeking admission to the Knights of the Nine. He did not find the spotless brotherhood he had imagined, as the Empire had been at war since 3E 121, when Potema of Solitude rose in rebellion to place her son Uriel III on the Ruby Throne, splitting Tamriel between their supporters and those of Empress Kintyra II and her uncles, Cephorus and Magnus. The order was fraying under the strain of the War of the Red Diamond, neutrality was fast becoming a thing of the past. Still, for a time, Decentius took the oaths. He wanted the Knights of the Nine to give him a rulebook for living. A name and title he could carry without shame.

Decentius traded a life of comfort for a modest one. He began his journey as a servant; he was not a perfect squire, however. At first he drank too much, fought much more, and chased the comfort of maidens and questionable women when he could, earning the disapproval of older knights. Yet he learned quickly, and by late 3E 125 he was knighted after proving his valor in battle against a group of Orc marauders in the forests of Blackwood. By then the war had reached its hardest years. Potema and Uriel III held the allegiance of Skyrim, northern Morrowind, and High Rock, mustering Nordic and Breton hosts against the loyalist forces of Cephorus and Magnus. Inside the broken unity of the Knights, arguments about the rightful Emperor had become constant. Decentius, still young and eager to believe in lawful blood and just cause, was persuaded by his peers and local lords who insisted Uriel III was the last true heir. To Decentius, it did not feel like abandoning duty at first, for he felt he was obligated to. To him, he was defending legitimacy and birthright against what he had been taught to call decadence in the Imperial City and that was just as honorable as being a knight. When the chance came to ride with soldiers and Legion detachments under Uriel’s banner, Decentius left the Knights and enlisted, off to fight in the War of the Red Diamond.

The war first took him into the contested territories of High Rock, and whatever romance he carried into the field did not last. The campaign became a long grind of sieges, raids and even betrayals. Decentius took part in it all. He had seen towns burned, fields salted and watched the space between “honor” and “orders” grow apart. It was the mud, hunger, cold nights, and death that made Decentius quietly begin to question what he had sworn himself to.

After Cephorus reconquered High Rock, he was redeployed to Skyrim as Potema concentrated her power there. In 3E 127, Decentius fought at the Battle of Falconstar, serving among Potema’s forces in the passes of western Skyrim against King Magnus’ loyalist army. When news came that Uriel had been taken, Potema struck at Magnus’ weakest flank and forced the loyalists into retreat. It was a tactical victory that meant little. Soon after, word spread that the captured Uriel III had been killed en route to trial in the Imperial City, and that Cephorus had been crowned Emperor.

With Uriel dead, Decentius was forced to take a long hard look at the side he had joined. Potema’s fury became legendary, as dark rumors began to spread even more than ever before: the Wolfqueen making pacts with Daedra, using necromancy, and using fallen soldiers as undead thralls. Decentius was left in wreckage of every decision he’d justified as necessary. After the circumstances of Kintyra Septim II’s death had shaken Decentus a bit, as did most of the Empire, it was what occurred after Uriel’s fall that changed him forever and was the final straw. He could not keep calling his cause a rightful. And he could no longer pretend his hands were clean.

When Cephorus’ victory turned the tide and Potema’s allies began to defect, Decentius chose to do the same. Rather than die in a final stand for a cause he no longer believed in, he deserted the Wolf Queen’s forces. Under cover of confusion in Skyrim, he slipped away from camp, traded his armor for rags, and smuggled himself south with caravans and river traffic. The journey back to Cyrodiil was made in fear and disguise: ducking patrols, lying when he had to, living with the thought that if he died nameless on some back road, his sister Daemyra would never know what became of her brother. In those years he saw how survival often worked in the Empire: men who had sworn for Uriel III now swore for Cephorus, and in exchange were granted freedoms, charters, and degrees of autonomy like never before. If many could be forgiven for the sake of stability, perhaps one knight-turned-soldier could vanish into that same current, especially if he could use his noble birthright as leverage.

Back in Cyrodiil, he did what he had once done as a hopeful boy: he walked the Pilgrimage of the Nine again, this time without ideals or romantic notions. He made the circuit as a man who had broken vows, supported a usurper, and helped feed a war with suffering of innocents. When he sought out what remained of the Knights of the Nine, he found no grand chapter-house waiting to judge him. Decentius was met with only scattered survivors and a wounded institution held together by memory and some sad sort of stubbornness. He returned with no ceremony. He knew deep down he didn’t join becase of valor or prestige, for even that had slipped the Knights of the Nine. He did so because he was desperate for something. Longing to belong and truthfully . . . he believed he had nowhere else to go.

By 3E 131, Decentius was twenty-two, worn down, and unsure whether the boy who left Castle Decumus still existed in any meaningful sense. It was then that he began to look at coming home again. Toward his father and sister, but he dreaded it so. He left his sister when she was fourteen and has been gone six years, and had seldom written to her. He feared she has hardened in his absence, or that his father has shaped her into someone he would not recognize, or that she has simply learned to live without him. Standing between a dying Order and the home he abandoned, Decentius understood that any future he builds will have to be made from what remained, and he had to admit not much of “Decentius” was left.

PERSONALITY & TRAITS

Decentius grew up believing the world rewarded honorable conduct; then he spent his adolescence learning how easily that belief could be used against a man. Raised in comfort, he assumed stability was the natural state of things: good order, secure walls, problems solved by rank and law. As a boy he laughed easily, loved Daemyra fiercely, and clung to tales of knights and Divines with the absolute certainty. The mystery of his mother’s death did much to damage that belief. Watching Crassus hide truth behind politeness taught Decentius that authority could lie without consequence, even to its own blood. He turned that injury into resolve, convincing himself that if he served something holy and became "good" in a way no one could dispute, his private confusion would be redeemed. That became the entirety of him: duty, honor, faith.

He was earnest; sometimes dangerously so, because he wanted to believe in clean lines between right and wrong. That same hunger made him easy to sway, especially when offered a story about rightful heirs and necessary violence. The War of the Red Diamond did not snap him into cynicism in a single moment, for it had layered him through the course of time. Each burned village and each senseless order added weight to Decentius, and he kept going long after his convictions began to rot, because admitting he was wrong, in his eyes, would mean admitting he threw away his vows and his family for nothing.

After desertion and return to Cyrodiil, Decentius remained faithful to certain virtues; courage, protection of the weak, honoring commitment yet he distrusted institutions and grand causes. He was wary of leaders who spoke easily of sacrifice, and he was reluctant to pursue command even when he had the skill for it. Outwardly he carried himself as steady and controlled, with dry humor used as a shield; he listened more than he spoke and rarely offered his full opinion. Inwardly, he was haunted. Nightmares returned him to burning villages and the screams of people and horses, and he carried faces he could not forget.

A rare bright point in his life was his friendship with Bastien, a Breton knight he came to rely on during the years of him being a knight. Bastien's calm counsel and unshaken convictions blunted the edge of Decentius' bitterness. Decentius leaned on him when thoughts of home were too painful to face directly, and Bastien became proof; quiet, stubborn proof that a man could walk through war without surrendering every good part of himself.

Decentius preferred simple comforts: late-summer grapes from the Nibenay Valley, flatbread with oil or herbs, grilled or smoked river fish, and light Cyrodilic red wines taken with restraint. And the occasional sweetroll.

He kept private habits; playing the lute late at night, reading histories and campaign accounts, tending horses, walking walls or riverbanks. He aimed his humor at pretension and bureaucracy and valued competence in those around him. When pressed about his mother's death, his desertion, or the years he spent serving a cause he no longer trusted, he closed off quickly.

He was not without his flaws, either. He was defined as much by them as by his virtues. His need for structure and external validation made him vulnerable to manipulation; he craved rules he could follow and causes he could serve, which left him open to those who masked ambition for duty. He was slow to question authority when it wore the right symbols, a habit that cost him dearly during the war. Once committed, he dug in rather than admit error, mistaking stubbornness for integrity. This made him both reliable and dangerously inflexible; he would see a doomed course to its bitter end rather than abandon those who depended on him, even when retreat was the wiser choice.

His guilt was a wound that would not close. He punished himself through denial; denying rest, denying comfort, denying connection. This made him poor company for himself and, at times, exhausting for others. He struggled to accept forgiveness or grace, interpreting kindness as either pity or a failure to see him clearly. He kept people at a distance not out of arrogance but out of a belief that he did not deserve their regard, and he was more comfortable offering help than receiving it.

Pride remained threaded through his humility. He took any challenge to his competence as a questioning of his worth, and though he no longer sought glory, he could not bear the thought of being seen as weak or cowardly. This drove him to prove himself in ways that were often unnecessary and sometimes reckless. He was also prone to brooding, retreating into silence when hurt or overwhelmed rather than naming what troubled him. Bastien was one of the few who could pull him back from that edge, but even then, Decentius resisted being known too fully.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Decentius' relationship with his mother, Lassinia, remained frozen in time. She was warmth as any loving mother could be. Her death broke Decentius. He carried her as an ache he could not articulate, and any mention of her stiffened him immediately. With his father, Crassus, the bond was one of cold formality and resentment. Decentius viewed him as a man who was pragmatic and intelligent but coldly detached and at times emotionless. He left home as much to escape Crassus as to escape himself.

Even as he planned to return home, the thought of facing his father filled him with a complicated mixture of defiance and shame; he wanted to prove he survived the choices he made, yet feared his father would see through to the deserter and oath-breaker beneath the armor. He knew reconciliation might be impossible, yet the need for his father's acknowledgment gnawed at him still.

Daemyra was the one person Decentius allowed himself to love without reservation, though that love was now edged with fear. She was his anchor in youth, the quiet to his noise, the one who saw him as more than expectation. Six years of absence weighed on him like a stone. He imagined her changed; hardened by their father's hand, or grown distant, or worse, having forgotten him entirely. The possibility that she might look at him now and see only a stranger, or worse, a failure, terrified him more than any battlefield ever did. She was both his reason for wanting to return home and the reason he hesitated.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Decentius was slightly tall, built with the long lines common to the Nibenese. More grace compared to his Colovian cousins. His hair was deep black and naturally wavy, kept longer than strict fashion suggested and often left tousled. At a distance he carried a patrician handsomeness: straight nose, high cheekbones, a sharp jaw that would have looked untouched in his youth. Up close, the War of the Red Diamond had left its marks, fine lines at the corners of his eyes, a cut along the brow, and the roughness of a young man who has slept in hard places. Like Daemyra, he had freckles scattered lightly across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. His eyes were a clear, thoughtful light brown that shifted with the light, and they betrayed him when he listened; his attention could sharpen so intensely it was sometimes taken as intrusive.

SKILLS & TALENTS

Decentius’ upbringing at Castle Decumus provided thorough noble training: court etiquette, diplomacy, and the practiced reading of people and documents. Watching Crassus bargain with merchants, magistrates, and the East Empire Company taught him how posture and patience shape an exchange. He was highly literate and comfortable with contracts, military orders, and basic legal texts, and he was competent with ledgers, manifests, and supply. His education also included strong horsemanship, solid fundamentals with the blade, experience with genteel hunting and fieldcraft, and working knowledge of the Nine Divines and the Imperial Cult.

As a squire and later as a campaigning soldier, these foundations hardened into practical ability. He became an accomplished swordsman and shield-user, trained in cavalry tactics, small-unit command, and maintaining mail and plate under field conditions. Campaigns in High Rock and Skyrim taught him siegecraft by necessity, cold-weather survival, foraging, battlefield awareness, and the grim particulars of ambushes, night raids, and fighting in broken terrain. He learned rough field medicine and basic restorative practice like binding wounds and fending off infection when he could. He learned to draw on what was available in a camp rather than any formal healer’s hall. He had an eye for maps and routes as well. His desertion forced him to learn deception well enough to pass among commoners, lie at checkpoints, and move across borders without drawing attention.

He also picked up the ordinary pastimes of soldiers, like telling stories, playing cards and dice. He took up learning to play the lute and drum. He was not a battlemage, but he possessed modest talent for Destruction: basic fire spells (flames, scorching blasts, and the occasional crude firebolt) used in close support of his sword work. He was no professional mage; however, in need he could ignite oil, set a shield wall alight, or use fire as both tool and weapon, making him more adaptable than a purely mundane knight.

Wonderfully rich detail in what has shaped Decentius. If he ever returns home, I wonder what he will find?

Pretty sure I remember Draken from reading part of his story long ago in the fan fiction section, way back when I was new here to Chorrol. I like that he disappointed his father by joining Knights of the Nine. Dad seems a piece of work in this biography, like not any sort of positive figure to aspire toward.

Troubles and headaches, I'd wager. Maybe a nice hot bath, a warm meal and a cozy bed this time.


Yes, that's him. I felt that I needed something a bit more compelling for him aside from being wealthy and a nobleman from Nibenay. Being a knight and a soldier is also a fun story to tell, especially in a time period like that which is ancient history by the time we get to the installments. His father is a piece of work, yes. But he can be fair. There are definitely more evil and cruel fathers in the TES universe for sure, though. He doesn't even come close.