Raziella Mier Felgeif- BRETON/ALTMER
Sept 12, 2014 14:16:46 GMT -6
Post by Raziella Felgeif on Sept 12, 2014 14:16:46 GMT -6
[googlefont="Forum"]
*Mixed classes are allowed. Classes refers to Warriors, Thief, Archer, Mage, Battle Mage, etc.
Hair Color/Style -
Eye Color(s) -
Skin Tone -
War Paint -
Scars -
Piercings -
Tattoos -
Facial Hair -
Other -
What type of armor does your character wear? Don't go overboard with it. Keep it simple and realistic to what your character is capable of.
Likes - List five minimum
Dislikes - List five minimum
Strengths - List five minimum
Weaknesses - List five minimum
Fears - List one minimum
Secrets - List two minimum
Battle Cry - "Oh for the mercy of a dragon, shut up and disappear."
Raziella is an interesting mix of personalities to say the least. One can consider her a puzzle locked underneath the code of Da vinci, a riddle that scholars break their minds to solve. She’s a confusing individual prone to change moods at the drop of a hat. You see, Raziella enjoys the game of fooling around a person’s mind. She’s a curious creature in terms of human psychology that she’s rather prone to experiment with unsuspecting victims. To estimate the darkness of her persona one can imagine how it’s almost swallowing her from the lack of positives roaming in there.
Once upon a time, such a story to tell close to a fire camp with a full tankard of mead, Razi started out as a sweet innocent child of kindness as much as it’s hard to swallow the years she considered the darker side of her ‘colorful’ psyche. Razi was once a happy child. Kind, delicate, forgiving values considered a weakness in the eyes of her forefathers she carries a courageous soul unafraid to strike at a given chance but also the child deliberate condemnation for violence, nords aren’t peaceful souls as much as they like to believe themselves as. The blood of warriors aren’t easy things to quell once it’s woken.
She didn’t believe it, she saw the hypocrisy in their words at an early age, they’re certain events that led in morphing her into the state she’s in. Her mind, is a labyrinth hidden within a labyrinth. Kindness she once had she question where it fled it as it was replaced by coldness, disinterest for those she considered as a waste. She’s a calculative individual who prices the worth of an action before jumping into the fray her observation skills are said to be one of the sharpest around Dawnstar that seemed to only strengthen the air of mystic surrounding her. She became, an unknown even to her subjects she became an unpredictable being classified as a wildcard. In the end though,
Was this the real her? People stopped asking that long ago, those are mere fractions of her personality the child is known to switch with the flow of a chess game. The world is merely a giant chess game for her. The citizens, the gods, and all the beings are mere chess pieces landed amongst her battle with fate and her stubborn will to deny the goddess submission over the laws placed upon her. She never believed in those, ‘limits’ are for those weak-willed to see their true capabilities. One can say she’s hated being limited, she considered herself inhibited she follows her own beliefs to the best of her capabilities no matter how questionable they may be in the eyes of the public. That said, she’s earned quite a few monikers in her early reign, the kingdom quickly found out the ‘change’ in the young Jarl hadn’t all been good, true she was the direct cause of the sudden economic rise but with it was earned through the young Jarl’s exploits in expanding the land. She came to be feared as the massacre queen, or bloody empress by the enemies she made. In the battlefield, one cant ignore the ferocity she’s capable of showcasing the woman’s fierce temper and cruel tendencies towards the enemy made some of those who knew the young Jarl as a young girl. Whatever happened to the kind soul that once resided in that body?
She carries herself as a prideful soldier, narcissist in a sense, but still in that body shes still a child, she prone to act just as any girl of her age should. Okay, rephrase, some females. She’s quite the young tomboy with a great aversion to dresses no matter how her stature forces her to don on such evils for the sake of appearances. She’s a prankster by nature, a childish and carefree soul that exhibits a more neutral stance in the whole war issue. One might see it as disinterest, to the child she sees no point in allying herself in a frightfully dull ‘argument’ over religion. She has enough issues out of that to last her a few centuries should she live that long.
A parent’s love is supposed to be given to a child in order for them to blossom into a flower fit to revolve in life. Raziella once yearned to see, to experience these things such willy whims of a child innocent from the true bloodlust roaming through the lands of Skyrim since the dawn of ages, ‘Peace’ a word that the denizens preached throughout their days became somewhat of a word of hypocrisy caused by the civil war that ravaged the land once more after the great battle two hundred years ago. She learned from a young age, that it was a myth... peace was as inexistent as happiness, it was something humans strived to think existed.
Not her though, from the earliest hours of her beginning to walk in life she learned things, just as the sharp eyed little child would. You see life gave her challenges that she stopped questioning, situations that she stopped batting an eye about in lieu of her agendas. Raziella came from the distinct line of Jarls, the Felgeif. She was descended from the infamous man named Skald the elder, as you can imagine the man brought a lot of animosity into the name of the Felgeif, but who’s to blame them... the entire line shared the high born haughty outlook towards the common folk. Apparently however the gene grew latent on the girl as she failed to show signs of the infamous higher than thou arrogance proclaimed by their family. Born as the second child, after a boy whom was destined to take over after the death of their grandfather Garmarth Felgeif, she’s considered as the... backup plan. No sense in making it sound nice, in case anything happened to their beloved ‘crown prince.’
She was different before than what she is now... Kind, gentle a meek soul considered to be ‘pathetic’ in the eyes of the elders. She was considered incapable of handling the most simplest task, but did anyone bothered to ask her...the reason for her actions. No one did, instead the prejudice in humanity instantly deemed her a worthless cause. At that time she didn’t care, Raziella forced her mind not to care in the name of averting outshining the older brother she grew accustomed to care for. Because of that heart of hers....she was labeled the weakest. Presently Razi would have laughed reminiscing the younger years of innocence scoffing it off as an unimportant stage in her life.
You see, life had its way of... ‘testing’ her. Either the nine divines sensed the rebel soul sprouting in there or the daedras fell to boredom she cant find the answer to her progressively horrid luck in childhood matters. Love was a foreign concept in the household from a father whom locked himself day to day in his study to a mother obsessed with religion. Oh her dearest mother was a devote follower of not just one, but ALL of the gods known to man, the halls in fortress she grew up in, located miles away from Dawnstar paid proof for her mother’s obsession towards it.
She grew up, listening to every single prophet dragged by her mother for future readings. One such proclaimed her dear brother as a great savior, oh how she had to hold the desire to laugh madly at that proclamation. Mother however didn’t share her amusement in fact the woman believed it. To this day she still shakes her head remembering those years. She paid heed to the first born, believing the words of the madman, as she love to call the prophets of the gods. Nothing more than religious zealots, maybe it was through this that drove beloved mother to the brink of insanity. The lack of attention, being push aside for the better child... somehow the emptiness festered from it became the perfect bait for disaster bellowing over the horizons.
Disaster became the secret ingredient to what shape the bloody empress, the fortnight after the tenth anniversary of her birth. A group of thieves raided the fortress, overpowering the guards and murdering nearly everyone on the grounds. She would have been one of the casualties had she not wondered through the caverns located underneath the towering castle. Upon hearing word, grandfather send his own contingency assigned a few mile away to try rescue the falling fortress. This is the scene she walked into right after finding her way back out, a battlefield strewn in the brightest of red... she wouldn’t admit it, but it turned out to be the chrysalis that caused her interest in warfare. Causing the same pain her emotional state suffered to others at first it repelled her to think of such things but that wasn’t enough... unfortunately, the incident robbed her of a family. Her older brother kidnapped, her parents killed... and now her only ‘family’ is a spiteful old man who couldn’t accept his only son’s death. Oh her life just gotten ‘interesting’ to say the least.
Now without a male heir her grandfather forced upon her the responsibilities, the demand to be perfect became even more apparent as she was forced through tutors after tutors to mold her into the vision of ‘heir’ her grandfather wanted while he wallowed in grief, he couldn’t look at the child without being reminded of the death of his son. It caused a rift between their relationship that never mended upon the death of the Jarl. Killed in his sleep by his own House Carl. She thought it was over, an orphaned child of twelve now supposed to take over with the death of her grandfather. A job she never wanted in the first place.
Supposed this was the last bait that brought it towards that troublesome entity towards her. Their meeting as she locked herself in her room was interesting to say the least, the lost lamb hearing a voice spoke within her mind, offering ‘comfort’ to the distress child and a deal. With no other way, she was forced to accept. Letting herself play as host to a being she couldn’t see, but only hear as a voice echoing at the back of her mind. She remembered passing out, and then black.
You are allowed to Master in one branch, Expert in two branches, Apprentice in three branches and Novice in four. Those that are not used, please delete.
Alteration -
Destruction - Master
Illusion - Expert
Restoration - Novice
Enchanting - Apprentice
Archery - Novice
Two-Handed - Apprentice
Alchemy - Apprentice
Lockpicking - Novice
Sneak - Expert
✿
Raziella Mier (Rayne) Felgeif
15
Dawnstar
Gender
Dawnstar
Breton
Battle Mage
5'5 | 117 lbs
Dual Swords/staff
Lord Stone
Bonuses
*Mixed classes are allowed. Classes refers to Warriors, Thief, Archer, Mage, Battle Mage, etc.
Appearance
Hair Color/Style -
Eye Color(s) -
Skin Tone -
War Paint -
Scars -
Piercings -
Tattoos -
Facial Hair -
Other -
What type of armor does your character wear? Don't go overboard with it. Keep it simple and realistic to what your character is capable of.
Personality
Likes - List five minimum
Dislikes - List five minimum
Strengths - List five minimum
Weaknesses - List five minimum
Fears - List one minimum
Secrets - List two minimum
Battle Cry - "Oh for the mercy of a dragon, shut up and disappear."
Raziella is an interesting mix of personalities to say the least. One can consider her a puzzle locked underneath the code of Da vinci, a riddle that scholars break their minds to solve. She’s a confusing individual prone to change moods at the drop of a hat. You see, Raziella enjoys the game of fooling around a person’s mind. She’s a curious creature in terms of human psychology that she’s rather prone to experiment with unsuspecting victims. To estimate the darkness of her persona one can imagine how it’s almost swallowing her from the lack of positives roaming in there.
Once upon a time, such a story to tell close to a fire camp with a full tankard of mead, Razi started out as a sweet innocent child of kindness as much as it’s hard to swallow the years she considered the darker side of her ‘colorful’ psyche. Razi was once a happy child. Kind, delicate, forgiving values considered a weakness in the eyes of her forefathers she carries a courageous soul unafraid to strike at a given chance but also the child deliberate condemnation for violence, nords aren’t peaceful souls as much as they like to believe themselves as. The blood of warriors aren’t easy things to quell once it’s woken.
She didn’t believe it, she saw the hypocrisy in their words at an early age, they’re certain events that led in morphing her into the state she’s in. Her mind, is a labyrinth hidden within a labyrinth. Kindness she once had she question where it fled it as it was replaced by coldness, disinterest for those she considered as a waste. She’s a calculative individual who prices the worth of an action before jumping into the fray her observation skills are said to be one of the sharpest around Dawnstar that seemed to only strengthen the air of mystic surrounding her. She became, an unknown even to her subjects she became an unpredictable being classified as a wildcard. In the end though,
Was this the real her? People stopped asking that long ago, those are mere fractions of her personality the child is known to switch with the flow of a chess game. The world is merely a giant chess game for her. The citizens, the gods, and all the beings are mere chess pieces landed amongst her battle with fate and her stubborn will to deny the goddess submission over the laws placed upon her. She never believed in those, ‘limits’ are for those weak-willed to see their true capabilities. One can say she’s hated being limited, she considered herself inhibited she follows her own beliefs to the best of her capabilities no matter how questionable they may be in the eyes of the public. That said, she’s earned quite a few monikers in her early reign, the kingdom quickly found out the ‘change’ in the young Jarl hadn’t all been good, true she was the direct cause of the sudden economic rise but with it was earned through the young Jarl’s exploits in expanding the land. She came to be feared as the massacre queen, or bloody empress by the enemies she made. In the battlefield, one cant ignore the ferocity she’s capable of showcasing the woman’s fierce temper and cruel tendencies towards the enemy made some of those who knew the young Jarl as a young girl. Whatever happened to the kind soul that once resided in that body?
She carries herself as a prideful soldier, narcissist in a sense, but still in that body shes still a child, she prone to act just as any girl of her age should. Okay, rephrase, some females. She’s quite the young tomboy with a great aversion to dresses no matter how her stature forces her to don on such evils for the sake of appearances. She’s a prankster by nature, a childish and carefree soul that exhibits a more neutral stance in the whole war issue. One might see it as disinterest, to the child she sees no point in allying herself in a frightfully dull ‘argument’ over religion. She has enough issues out of that to last her a few centuries should she live that long.
History
A parent’s love is supposed to be given to a child in order for them to blossom into a flower fit to revolve in life. Raziella once yearned to see, to experience these things such willy whims of a child innocent from the true bloodlust roaming through the lands of Skyrim since the dawn of ages, ‘Peace’ a word that the denizens preached throughout their days became somewhat of a word of hypocrisy caused by the civil war that ravaged the land once more after the great battle two hundred years ago. She learned from a young age, that it was a myth... peace was as inexistent as happiness, it was something humans strived to think existed.
Not her though, from the earliest hours of her beginning to walk in life she learned things, just as the sharp eyed little child would. You see life gave her challenges that she stopped questioning, situations that she stopped batting an eye about in lieu of her agendas. Raziella came from the distinct line of Jarls, the Felgeif. She was descended from the infamous man named Skald the elder, as you can imagine the man brought a lot of animosity into the name of the Felgeif, but who’s to blame them... the entire line shared the high born haughty outlook towards the common folk. Apparently however the gene grew latent on the girl as she failed to show signs of the infamous higher than thou arrogance proclaimed by their family. Born as the second child, after a boy whom was destined to take over after the death of their grandfather Garmarth Felgeif, she’s considered as the... backup plan. No sense in making it sound nice, in case anything happened to their beloved ‘crown prince.’
She was different before than what she is now... Kind, gentle a meek soul considered to be ‘pathetic’ in the eyes of the elders. She was considered incapable of handling the most simplest task, but did anyone bothered to ask her...the reason for her actions. No one did, instead the prejudice in humanity instantly deemed her a worthless cause. At that time she didn’t care, Raziella forced her mind not to care in the name of averting outshining the older brother she grew accustomed to care for. Because of that heart of hers....she was labeled the weakest. Presently Razi would have laughed reminiscing the younger years of innocence scoffing it off as an unimportant stage in her life.
You see, life had its way of... ‘testing’ her. Either the nine divines sensed the rebel soul sprouting in there or the daedras fell to boredom she cant find the answer to her progressively horrid luck in childhood matters. Love was a foreign concept in the household from a father whom locked himself day to day in his study to a mother obsessed with religion. Oh her dearest mother was a devote follower of not just one, but ALL of the gods known to man, the halls in fortress she grew up in, located miles away from Dawnstar paid proof for her mother’s obsession towards it.
She grew up, listening to every single prophet dragged by her mother for future readings. One such proclaimed her dear brother as a great savior, oh how she had to hold the desire to laugh madly at that proclamation. Mother however didn’t share her amusement in fact the woman believed it. To this day she still shakes her head remembering those years. She paid heed to the first born, believing the words of the madman, as she love to call the prophets of the gods. Nothing more than religious zealots, maybe it was through this that drove beloved mother to the brink of insanity. The lack of attention, being push aside for the better child... somehow the emptiness festered from it became the perfect bait for disaster bellowing over the horizons.
Disaster became the secret ingredient to what shape the bloody empress, the fortnight after the tenth anniversary of her birth. A group of thieves raided the fortress, overpowering the guards and murdering nearly everyone on the grounds. She would have been one of the casualties had she not wondered through the caverns located underneath the towering castle. Upon hearing word, grandfather send his own contingency assigned a few mile away to try rescue the falling fortress. This is the scene she walked into right after finding her way back out, a battlefield strewn in the brightest of red... she wouldn’t admit it, but it turned out to be the chrysalis that caused her interest in warfare. Causing the same pain her emotional state suffered to others at first it repelled her to think of such things but that wasn’t enough... unfortunately, the incident robbed her of a family. Her older brother kidnapped, her parents killed... and now her only ‘family’ is a spiteful old man who couldn’t accept his only son’s death. Oh her life just gotten ‘interesting’ to say the least.
Now without a male heir her grandfather forced upon her the responsibilities, the demand to be perfect became even more apparent as she was forced through tutors after tutors to mold her into the vision of ‘heir’ her grandfather wanted while he wallowed in grief, he couldn’t look at the child without being reminded of the death of his son. It caused a rift between their relationship that never mended upon the death of the Jarl. Killed in his sleep by his own House Carl. She thought it was over, an orphaned child of twelve now supposed to take over with the death of her grandfather. A job she never wanted in the first place.
Supposed this was the last bait that brought it towards that troublesome entity towards her. Their meeting as she locked herself in her room was interesting to say the least, the lost lamb hearing a voice spoke within her mind, offering ‘comfort’ to the distress child and a deal. With no other way, she was forced to accept. Letting herself play as host to a being she couldn’t see, but only hear as a voice echoing at the back of her mind. She remembered passing out, and then black.
Skills and Abilities
You are allowed to Master in one branch, Expert in two branches, Apprentice in three branches and Novice in four. Those that are not used, please delete.
Alteration -
Destruction - Master
Illusion - Expert
Restoration - Novice
Enchanting - Apprentice
Archery - Novice
Two-Handed - Apprentice
Alchemy - Apprentice
Lockpicking - Novice
Sneak - Expert