Post by Imesen Holli on Jul 23, 2010 17:11:14 GMT -5
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Imesen Holli
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Identity Chart
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†Name: Imesen Holli
†Age: 20
†Race: Breton
† Sexual Orientation Straight
†Gender: Male
†Birth Sign: The Ritual
†Hair Color: Dirty-Blond
†Eye Color: Brown
†Height: 6'3"
†Weight: 150 lbs.
†Skin Tone: Light
†Appearance:
Especially for a Breton, Imesen is rather tall. He stands about six feet, three inches tall, suggesting Nordic blood in his human ancestry, although this is counter-balanced by his slender form, which likely came from Altmer ancestry. Overall, the combination shows a slender form with creamy skin and lean muscles running beneath this flesh. Accenting his form is his mid-length, wavy, dirty-blond hair which tends to fall into his deep brown eyes. Overall, his base form is rather handsome, giving him a charming appearance, which suits him perfectly.
In the open, Imesen tends to wear simple but appealing clothing; often this means a white linen shirt, a brown jacket or vest, black pants, and brown or black leather boots. When he wishes to move more inconspicuously, however, he will don darker clothing, allowing him to blend into the night more easily as he performs a variety of tasks for anyone who pays well enough.
†Guild: N/A; will work for any guild that pays well enough, including the Dark Brotherhood.
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Taste
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†Likes:
History
Silence
Solitude
Writing
Discovering lost secrets and taking credit for them
†Dislikes:
Fighting a heavily armored opponent head-on
Retribution for an incomplete job
Being caught in the middle of a dangerous task
†Nervous Habits:
Tends to rock back and forth in chairs
Brushes the hair out of his eyes (partly practical)
His leg tends to twitch if seated too long
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For The Record
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†Personality:
Imesen is calm and quiet, tending to blend into the background to observe situations before getting directly involved in them. This is also how he fights and completes jobs; rather than charging into a situation head-on, he tends to analyze first before attempting to force a solution. This strategy has allowed him to perform almost any task given to him admirably.
Imesen is also undeniably brilliant and cunning, and he is able to make connections about situations and strategies that others are unable to. This has allowed him to outwit a vastly superior opponent, using a combination of his inherent skills and his mind to lure opponents into traps before easily dispatching them. However, he is also quite weak in hand-to-hand combat, explaining his preference for staying in the shadows.
†Weapon(s):
An Imperial Legion Steel Crossbow, which fires bolts with greater and more consistent power than the average shortbow or longbow. The weapon also pierces armor more easily than a bow, although it also takes slightly longer to reload, making it a one-shot weapon in many cases where range is not useful. He also carries a steel dagger for defense in case a situation gets out of hand, although he greatly prefers not to have to use this.
†Power/s:
Close-Quarters Combat
Poor overall strength
Generally works alone, can be dangerous
†Talent/s: Imesen is a talented writer and poet, which coincides with his speechcraft abilities, so he can charm practically anyone. Furthermore, he has been trained in Illusion magic, and is very adept at the skill. He also has a keen analytical mind, and is able to discern a strategy for a problem within seconds, letting him escape from potential problems with few difficulties.
†Mother: Anamarie Holli
†Father Yves Holli
†Siblings: N/A
†Pets: N/A
†History:Imesen was born as a young Breton on the island of Betony in High Rock to a middle-class family of a witch and a former Blade. From the time he was born, his parents wanted Imesen to pursue a quiet, scholarly life, perhaps in one of the Temples or in the Mages Guild. As such, Imesen learned to read, write, and cast simple magicka early on in his life, and he proved to have an excellent affinity for illusion magic in particular, which his mother taught him. However, he was growing restless with his peaceful life, and his parents recognized this. As such, when he was twelve, he asked his father to teach him the skills that he had learned as a Blade. Although Yves was reluctant, he eventually relented. Imesen quickly learned methods to keep himself concealed in darkness, how to break locks, and how to keep his balance on the most precarious of ledges. His father finally tried to teach the boy archery, but while Imesen certainly had the eyes to hit a target several yards away, he didn't have the arm. Instead, he decided to use a crossbow, which required less training and did more damage than most bows. Imesen finally left Betony, intending to take whatever jobs he could find, hoping that his skills would allow him to thrive in the Empire doing whatever needed to be done.
†RP Sample:
A young Breton on a dark-haired horse charged into town amidst the setting sun, his brown trenchcoat flying behind him and his cheeks a bright red color from the cold wind whipping across his face. Imesen thanked all the gods for the heavy coat he was now wearing; though impractical in the southern lands, it was his only protection from the howling winds. He envied the Nords and their natural resistance to the frosty temperatures. As the gates of the city opened, he noticed a very small crowd gathering to receive the news that Imesen had recently printed in his fine cursive handwriting. He took one sheet out of the saddlebags of his horse, and he waved it around the crowd, speaking out in a clear voice.
"Don't miss today's Black Horse Courier! Daedric Princes set to war! Empire calls for citizens to join the army! Read all about it!"
Instantly the crowd began murmuring amongst themselves, but an elderly Nord man wearing (to Imesen's amazement) a light shirt and suspended breeches approached him. The man glowered at Imesen for a few moments before saying in a deep, rumbling voice, "What're you playing at, boy, trying to incite fear in this town, hm? You know this city was where the Oblivion Crisis began nearly two centuries ago!"
Imesen merely smiled frostily and replied, "Yes, and that's exactly why Bruma is being warned first. The Elder Council doesn't know what's likely to occur, but it's better to be prepared, unlike centuries ago when we had to rely on a lucky hero to save us from the wrath of the Daedra. Besides, we know what happened to them, and by the end of this, we may well have another Daedric Prince on our hands. Now do you want the damned paper or not?"
The people murmured among themselves as Imesen began to hand out the papers, quietly sighing to himself. This was exactly why he preferred the west coast of Tamriel; the people along that coast - Betony, Sentinel, Daggerfall, Anvil - all quietly accepted the news and got on with their lives, rather than wondering if the newspaper funded by the Empire itself was writing rumors and lies. Imesen himself had reported the story of the Daedric Princes, and the information he received had come from an interview with the wife of the current Emperor herself. There was no reason for the people to disbelieve him.
A young stableboy took the reins of Imesen's horse as he hopped down from the beast and headed into the cheaper-looking tavern in the city. Imesen slipped inside and pushed fifteen coins towards the innkeeper - ten for a bed, five for food. He was rewarded with two large mugs, one containing a thick beef stew, the other containing a cheap but palatable beer. Imesen drank both deeply, and thanks to hot stew, cold beer, and warm fire, slowly began to thaw. He promised himself to travel during the day from now on while in the north, but at the moment, people were so panicked by the news of Daedra Lords that the roads were constantly packed with bandits waiting to pick off travellers trying to see family before the impending crisis. To avoid the travellers during the day and the bandits at night, he had to travel between dawn and dusk, resting wherever he could during peak hours.
However, since there were no nearby towns save Chorrol - which Imesen had already visited - he saw no point in not spending a few days resting in Bruma before heading back to the Imperial City. With this decided, the young Breton spent another two hours chatting with the other patrons and listening to the music in the corner of the room before heading upstairs and crawling beneath the rough blankets for the night.