Emilia of CamlornJul 07, 2014Jul 07, 2014 at 11:37 AM
#1
Name: Gabriel Aurelius Tharn, of the house Tharn
Age: approximately 25 years old
Race: Imperial
Personality: confident, cautious (especially when questioned about his past), fiercely loyal to those few he considers friends, witty, charming and even occasional mischievous; however always has a slight hint of... remorse in his eyes, especially when he thinks that no one watching... Beneath this charming, roguish front however lies a ruthless, cold, calculating mind of a true Tharn.
Flair: Gabriel has a long scar across his right eye, a memory from the battle he was lucky to survive. Educated and well-versed in Tamrielic as well as the number of more exotic languages including Acaviri and Ancient Ayled. A powerful mage with a natural affinity to lightning-based abilities. However after years spent as a member of the Imperial Dragonguard, Tharn had become an experienced swordsman and ofter prefers tp get up close and personal with his opponent. He has a number of other potent abilities, most of which he prefers to keep away from the prying eyes of others...
Rumors: His posture indicates him as an Imperial soldier, quite possibly an officer of higher rank. He does his utmost to stay out of sight of the renegade Imperials under the reign of the empress-regent, Clivia. But when he doesn't, Gabriel strikes them down with a hatred evident in his features. A warrior of renown, he already made a name for himself in the Dominion. Although some whisper that he has some other-worldly powers at his disposition, especially considering some of the incredible feats he accomplished throughout his journey across the Dominion.
Background: "You want to know my name? Such things a pretty, but dangerous as it gives one a measure of power over the other. But I'm not without manners, after all... If you wish, you may call me Gabriel. My story began twenty-five years ago when me and my twin sister were introduced into the world. My family knew the taste of power and the clink of a golden coin, but eventually their overconfidence was their own undoing. Rising against a tyrant is never a safe thing to do, and my father should have known this more than any other men or mer in the Empire. Do I blame him for what had happened? No, I don't. Not entirely, anyway... The tyrant needed to be thrown down if we were to survive. For the good of the Empire, for the good of all of Tamriel. But doing so in such an open manner was surely brave just as much as it was stupid. The vengeance of the mad Emperor had struck my family down, leaving me and dear Octavia alone among the ashes of our estate. My uncle did nothing to prevent it. Neither did his brother. But he did take us in when the demise of my parents had become a public knowledge. Of course the blame was laid at the feet of rebels, mercenaries and brigands that raided the Nibenay Basin in those chaotic days... As if anyone would believe that mere brigands would be able to accomplish a feat of wiping our family estate of the face of Cyrodiil! But I digress... The years we spent under the tutelage of my uncle weren't the brightest part of my life. But I was blessed with two friends, who had become my true family in the years to come. When Varen's banner rose against the tyranny of the Longhouse, we did not hesitate for a single moment to join him in the quest of ridding the Cyrodiil from the power-crazed tyrant... The war was long and bloody, and I have no desire to revisit those days. Believe me when I say to you that war is only sweet to those who had never fought in one... We lost so many good men and women, so many lives thrown into the Oblivion and for what? Only for another arrogant fool to come along and to undo everything I... WE had sacrificed so much to achieve! But it doesn't really matter, not anymore. I don't care whose glorified arse sits on the Ruby Throne - the end result will be the same. Then why, you might ask, I carry on fighting? Why do I risk my hide, racing across the ravaged fields of Cyrodiil right into the heat of battle? Truth be told, I am not entirely sure myself. Perhaps somewhere deep inside I still hold onto the frail hope that one day... one day things will get back to the way they should be. Or maybe I simply hate to see my homeland torn apart by the foolishness of the Alliances and their leaders... At any rate it is of no consequence for you. What you should know, however, is that I choose my allegiances carefully. And I play the game by my own rules. Period. If you aren't happy with it - here's the door. But I be damned if you will find another warrior of my caliber in this dump... Otherwise, stop wasting my time and tell me what the job is. Who knows, maybe I will consider lending you my sword - for a price, of course... "
Age: approximately 25 years old
Race: Imperial
Personality: confident, cautious (especially when questioned about his past), fiercely loyal to those few he considers friends, witty, charming and even occasional mischievous; however always has a slight hint of... remorse in his eyes, especially when he thinks that no one watching... Beneath this charming, roguish front however lies a ruthless, cold, calculating mind of a true Tharn.
Flair: Gabriel has a long scar across his right eye, a memory from the battle he was lucky to survive. Educated and well-versed in Tamrielic as well as the number of more exotic languages including Acaviri and Ancient Ayled. A powerful mage with a natural affinity to lightning-based abilities. However after years spent as a member of the Imperial Dragonguard, Tharn had become an experienced swordsman and ofter prefers tp get up close and personal with his opponent. He has a number of other potent abilities, most of which he prefers to keep away from the prying eyes of others...
Rumors: His posture indicates him as an Imperial soldier, quite possibly an officer of higher rank. He does his utmost to stay out of sight of the renegade Imperials under the reign of the empress-regent, Clivia. But when he doesn't, Gabriel strikes them down with a hatred evident in his features. A warrior of renown, he already made a name for himself in the Dominion. Although some whisper that he has some other-worldly powers at his disposition, especially considering some of the incredible feats he accomplished throughout his journey across the Dominion.
Background: "You want to know my name? Such things a pretty, but dangerous as it gives one a measure of power over the other. But I'm not without manners, after all... If you wish, you may call me Gabriel. My story began twenty-five years ago when me and my twin sister were introduced into the world. My family knew the taste of power and the clink of a golden coin, but eventually their overconfidence was their own undoing. Rising against a tyrant is never a safe thing to do, and my father should have known this more than any other men or mer in the Empire. Do I blame him for what had happened? No, I don't. Not entirely, anyway... The tyrant needed to be thrown down if we were to survive. For the good of the Empire, for the good of all of Tamriel. But doing so in such an open manner was surely brave just as much as it was stupid. The vengeance of the mad Emperor had struck my family down, leaving me and dear Octavia alone among the ashes of our estate. My uncle did nothing to prevent it. Neither did his brother. But he did take us in when the demise of my parents had become a public knowledge. Of course the blame was laid at the feet of rebels, mercenaries and brigands that raided the Nibenay Basin in those chaotic days... As if anyone would believe that mere brigands would be able to accomplish a feat of wiping our family estate of the face of Cyrodiil! But I digress... The years we spent under the tutelage of my uncle weren't the brightest part of my life. But I was blessed with two friends, who had become my true family in the years to come. When Varen's banner rose against the tyranny of the Longhouse, we did not hesitate for a single moment to join him in the quest of ridding the Cyrodiil from the power-crazed tyrant... The war was long and bloody, and I have no desire to revisit those days. Believe me when I say to you that war is only sweet to those who had never fought in one... We lost so many good men and women, so many lives thrown into the Oblivion and for what? Only for another arrogant fool to come along and to undo everything I... WE had sacrificed so much to achieve! But it doesn't really matter, not anymore. I don't care whose glorified arse sits on the Ruby Throne - the end result will be the same. Then why, you might ask, I carry on fighting? Why do I risk my hide, racing across the ravaged fields of Cyrodiil right into the heat of battle? Truth be told, I am not entirely sure myself. Perhaps somewhere deep inside I still hold onto the frail hope that one day... one day things will get back to the way they should be. Or maybe I simply hate to see my homeland torn apart by the foolishness of the Alliances and their leaders... At any rate it is of no consequence for you. What you should know, however, is that I choose my allegiances carefully. And I play the game by my own rules. Period. If you aren't happy with it - here's the door. But I be damned if you will find another warrior of my caliber in this dump... Otherwise, stop wasting my time and tell me what the job is. Who knows, maybe I will consider lending you my sword - for a price, of course... "
Edited Jul 11, 2014 at 03:24 PM by 0