Post by ALEKSANDER ARCHMAN . on Sept 21, 2012 19:41:17 GMT -8
aleksander archman .
 [style=width: 170px; height: 140px; background-color: 303030; text-align: justify; padding: 8 8 8 8px; line-height: 100%; color: 000000; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; center; padding: 10 10 10 10px; overflow: auto; border: 5px solid #c5c5c5;] ALEKSANDER ARCHMAN . ALEK, ARCHMAN . 20 ON 13TH OF FROSTFALL . DARK ELF . HUNTSMAN . NEUTRAL . THIEVES GUILD . N/A HETEROSEXUAL . N/A . |
[atrb=border,0,true]
WEAPONS & ARMOR .
Before I joined the the Thieves Guild, I didn't really use any armor, really. I just went hunting and sneaking about in my normal civilian clothes; there was no need for anything special when ti came to hunting, just some neutral coloured clothes the blend in with the surroundings. Now that I have joined the Thieves Guild, I usually wear that specific and signature attire, when I am out and about doing what I have been instructed to. As for weapons, my main one would have to be a bow and arrow; I still managed to keep the one my father gave me when I was younger but it's a little bit worse for ware. I use ebony arrows, as often as I can get them, seeing as Daedric ones are far too expensive and hard to come by. If I am up close and personal, I use daggers, whatever type I can get my hands on, I'm not picky.
WHAT I'VE MASTERED .
So far, my strengths are pick pocketing, lock picking, sneaking and I do know a little bit of magic. Just the basics, you know, flames, frost and shock. The simple stuff. I've been trying to learn conjuring, but it seems to be a bit out of my range both in experience and in coin. When it comes down to it, I also know a bit of alchemy, but I mostly use it for haggling and becoming invisible for a little bit of time.
STORY OF MY LIFE .
My birth was a surprise, I'll tell you that much. Going into labor a month earlier than expected would shock any unsuspecting mother, but my parents were excited none the less. My father held me in his highest regard, seeing as I was the first born and only son he would ever have. I didn't grow up with much, my parents trying to give me what I needed but it was difficult when we lived in such a tiny town like Ivarsted. It was cool knowing that we lived right under the throat of the world, especially when it came down to my father's inn. Visitors from the bigger cities would come and spend the night one of the many warm beds the inn provided before trying their hand at the seven thousand steps. more often than not, people wouldn't come back.
When my sister was born three years after myself, apparently it had got harder and hard to feed ourselves. Even though my father had the inn and my mother had her crop, we still didn't have enough to live completely comfortably. My father was a hunter most of his life and, honestly, it was probably the only reason we were able to survive at all. As I got older, her kept telling me how I would eventually need to take over that responsibility for him. Inside, I couldn't wait for the chance to prove that I was a real man; that I could fend for myself and provide for my family. He started taking me out hunting at a very early age, no more than nine or ten years old. I used his old hunting bow but it wasn't exactly in the best condition; even still, I managed bring home a couple of squirrels, some rabbits and I even took down a quil.
That was my favourite part of the week, being able to go out with my father and having him teach my all of his tips and tricks when it came to snaring and hunting. For my twelfth birthday, my father gave me my own bow; it was expensive, I could tell that much, and I cherished it with everything I had. Because it was a better bow than my previous one, I improved much more, being able to hit targets from farther distances and taking down bigger game like deer and elk.
It wasn't long before I was the main provider of my family; my father was getting far too old to go out and hunt anymore. It fell onto my shoulders to make sure my family was well fed, and they were. By the time I was sixteen, I was taking down sabers and bears if they ever threatened Ivarsted. The guards didn't exactly approve of myself being so young and meddling in their affairs, but I couldn't help it, if I knew my family was endangered.
That was when tragedy struck. One night, after I had been out all day hunting, I had come home to find my parents dead in a pool of their own blood. Someone had attacked and murdered them and I had no idea why. For the first while I had figured they had taken my little sister, only to find her huddled under the bed in the room that her and I shared. We stayed there for the night, holding each other and thanking god that at least we still had each other.
Of course, with out parents dead, we were whisked away to the Honorhall Orphanage in Riften and thus started the worst two years of my life.
Obviously I wasn't used to being confined anywhere; I liked being out and exploring, hunting and tracking. Going from being able to go out whenever I wished, to having a strict schedule with nothing but chores to do, it killed me. That wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was Grelod the Kind; her name was sick joke, seeing as was anything but kind. She would drive us into the ground until our fingers bled and then tell us to keep going. I had stood up to her once or twice, soon being thrown into isolation after a few good lashings from her hilt.
The first year with her, I defied her at every turn, making sure my sister stayed out of harms way. If she was due for punishment, I would take it instead. However, after lights out, I started to sneak out at night. I didn't even care if I got caught, I just needed to get out.
We never really got fed very well at the orphanage, so I would start sneaking out and stealing food from the food carts at night. And not only then either; whenever we got the rare chance to go out and be free for a while, I would skulk about Riften, pick pocketing whoever I could. If I couldn't pick pocket, I would just simply steal from the carts in the market. It was fairly simple for me.
One day, after a very successful day of pick pocketing and looting, I ended up retreating to the hall of the dead. I knew that no one ever really visited such a place, so I figured I would be safe from getting caught. However, my thought were wrong. I was confronted by a big, stock man, one with auburn hair and a strong jaw. At first I was frightened, figuring that he would call a guard or maybe even punish me himself. Instead, he offered me a proposition; seeing as it was soon to be my eighteenth birthday, I would no long be under the custody of the orphanage. The man told me that on my eighteenth birthday I would return to the hall of the dead; he told me that he could promise me a lavish life, with the talents I had.
So I did, on my eighteenth birthday, I packed up my belongings promised my sister I would visit and to stay out of trouble, and made my way back to the hall of the dead. Just as he had promised, that man met me there once more and even gave me the pleasure of introducing himself. His name was Brynjolf and he told me that he was a part of the Thieves Guild. At first I didn't believe him, until he showed me the secret passageway through the Ratways. Honestly, I couldn't believe my eyes when I first saw the place. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before, seeing all of these people training with different weapons, it was baffling.
Brynjolf had asked me what other things I could do, aside from pick pocket and I explained that I was pretty decent with a bow and arrow. After showing him my skills, he took me to the head of the guild named Mercer and I had to take the oath of silence and loyalty. It was the best decision I have ever made.
During my time with the Thieves Guild, I had enough time and money to buy my own house of whom I now live in with my sister. I don't see myself settling down any time soon, seeing as right now I am doing far too well for myself when it come to the Guild and my own hunting business. People come and buy my meats and pelts from my home, knowing that mine are the best and the most fresh.
So yes, life in Riften is good. For now, at least.
Before I joined the the Thieves Guild, I didn't really use any armor, really. I just went hunting and sneaking about in my normal civilian clothes; there was no need for anything special when ti came to hunting, just some neutral coloured clothes the blend in with the surroundings. Now that I have joined the Thieves Guild, I usually wear that specific and signature attire, when I am out and about doing what I have been instructed to. As for weapons, my main one would have to be a bow and arrow; I still managed to keep the one my father gave me when I was younger but it's a little bit worse for ware. I use ebony arrows, as often as I can get them, seeing as Daedric ones are far too expensive and hard to come by. If I am up close and personal, I use daggers, whatever type I can get my hands on, I'm not picky.
WHAT I'VE MASTERED .
So far, my strengths are pick pocketing, lock picking, sneaking and I do know a little bit of magic. Just the basics, you know, flames, frost and shock. The simple stuff. I've been trying to learn conjuring, but it seems to be a bit out of my range both in experience and in coin. When it comes down to it, I also know a bit of alchemy, but I mostly use it for haggling and becoming invisible for a little bit of time.
STORY OF MY LIFE .
My birth was a surprise, I'll tell you that much. Going into labor a month earlier than expected would shock any unsuspecting mother, but my parents were excited none the less. My father held me in his highest regard, seeing as I was the first born and only son he would ever have. I didn't grow up with much, my parents trying to give me what I needed but it was difficult when we lived in such a tiny town like Ivarsted. It was cool knowing that we lived right under the throat of the world, especially when it came down to my father's inn. Visitors from the bigger cities would come and spend the night one of the many warm beds the inn provided before trying their hand at the seven thousand steps. more often than not, people wouldn't come back.
When my sister was born three years after myself, apparently it had got harder and hard to feed ourselves. Even though my father had the inn and my mother had her crop, we still didn't have enough to live completely comfortably. My father was a hunter most of his life and, honestly, it was probably the only reason we were able to survive at all. As I got older, her kept telling me how I would eventually need to take over that responsibility for him. Inside, I couldn't wait for the chance to prove that I was a real man; that I could fend for myself and provide for my family. He started taking me out hunting at a very early age, no more than nine or ten years old. I used his old hunting bow but it wasn't exactly in the best condition; even still, I managed bring home a couple of squirrels, some rabbits and I even took down a quil.
That was my favourite part of the week, being able to go out with my father and having him teach my all of his tips and tricks when it came to snaring and hunting. For my twelfth birthday, my father gave me my own bow; it was expensive, I could tell that much, and I cherished it with everything I had. Because it was a better bow than my previous one, I improved much more, being able to hit targets from farther distances and taking down bigger game like deer and elk.
It wasn't long before I was the main provider of my family; my father was getting far too old to go out and hunt anymore. It fell onto my shoulders to make sure my family was well fed, and they were. By the time I was sixteen, I was taking down sabers and bears if they ever threatened Ivarsted. The guards didn't exactly approve of myself being so young and meddling in their affairs, but I couldn't help it, if I knew my family was endangered.
That was when tragedy struck. One night, after I had been out all day hunting, I had come home to find my parents dead in a pool of their own blood. Someone had attacked and murdered them and I had no idea why. For the first while I had figured they had taken my little sister, only to find her huddled under the bed in the room that her and I shared. We stayed there for the night, holding each other and thanking god that at least we still had each other.
Of course, with out parents dead, we were whisked away to the Honorhall Orphanage in Riften and thus started the worst two years of my life.
Obviously I wasn't used to being confined anywhere; I liked being out and exploring, hunting and tracking. Going from being able to go out whenever I wished, to having a strict schedule with nothing but chores to do, it killed me. That wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was Grelod the Kind; her name was sick joke, seeing as was anything but kind. She would drive us into the ground until our fingers bled and then tell us to keep going. I had stood up to her once or twice, soon being thrown into isolation after a few good lashings from her hilt.
The first year with her, I defied her at every turn, making sure my sister stayed out of harms way. If she was due for punishment, I would take it instead. However, after lights out, I started to sneak out at night. I didn't even care if I got caught, I just needed to get out.
We never really got fed very well at the orphanage, so I would start sneaking out and stealing food from the food carts at night. And not only then either; whenever we got the rare chance to go out and be free for a while, I would skulk about Riften, pick pocketing whoever I could. If I couldn't pick pocket, I would just simply steal from the carts in the market. It was fairly simple for me.
One day, after a very successful day of pick pocketing and looting, I ended up retreating to the hall of the dead. I knew that no one ever really visited such a place, so I figured I would be safe from getting caught. However, my thought were wrong. I was confronted by a big, stock man, one with auburn hair and a strong jaw. At first I was frightened, figuring that he would call a guard or maybe even punish me himself. Instead, he offered me a proposition; seeing as it was soon to be my eighteenth birthday, I would no long be under the custody of the orphanage. The man told me that on my eighteenth birthday I would return to the hall of the dead; he told me that he could promise me a lavish life, with the talents I had.
So I did, on my eighteenth birthday, I packed up my belongings promised my sister I would visit and to stay out of trouble, and made my way back to the hall of the dead. Just as he had promised, that man met me there once more and even gave me the pleasure of introducing himself. His name was Brynjolf and he told me that he was a part of the Thieves Guild. At first I didn't believe him, until he showed me the secret passageway through the Ratways. Honestly, I couldn't believe my eyes when I first saw the place. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before, seeing all of these people training with different weapons, it was baffling.
Brynjolf had asked me what other things I could do, aside from pick pocket and I explained that I was pretty decent with a bow and arrow. After showing him my skills, he took me to the head of the guild named Mercer and I had to take the oath of silence and loyalty. It was the best decision I have ever made.
During my time with the Thieves Guild, I had enough time and money to buy my own house of whom I now live in with my sister. I don't see myself settling down any time soon, seeing as right now I am doing far too well for myself when it come to the Guild and my own hunting business. People come and buy my meats and pelts from my home, knowing that mine are the best and the most fresh.
So yes, life in Riften is good. For now, at least.
[/td][/tr][/table]
CHARLIE .
NINETEEN .
NINE .
I AM THE ALMIGHTY ADMIN .
[/center] [/style]NINETEEN .
NINE .
I AM THE ALMIGHTY ADMIN .
