My first character was an Altmer pure mage, but after 25 levels, he eventually became a nightblade who used bound weapons and illusion.  I had no intention of doing so.  It just... happened.  I got to level 52 wearing heavily enchanted dragonscale armor.  Then I accidently deleted him when creating a sword and shield redguard *facepalm*.  He was starting to get boring though.  Was probably going to do that anyway.

My first and favorite character is Nadar, an Argonian Warrior. He has an extremely varied skill set, because when I first started playing I did a lot of experimentation. He started out dual-wielding, then switched to a spellsword, then a warhammer-wielding maniac, and then he became kind of a combination of those. Right now, he mostly uses his Mace of Molag Bal with Spellbreaker (occasionally Shield of Ysgramor). He also uses Nightingale Bow or Enhanced Crossbow when doin' ranged stuffins. When I'm killin' Thalmor, I use Wuuthraad, and he always uses heavy armor. He's completed all questlines (including Dawnguard and Dragonborn) except College of Winterhold and Bard's College (if that counts), and didn't kill Paarthurnax, cuz Paarthurnax is cool. He is by far my favorite character I have ever made... which I guess isn't really saying that much, considering i've only made two! But I have a feeling he will always be one of my favorites, and one who I'll keep on coming back to.

My first character:

His name were Keeskaassouffle. A kajhiit gray skin and a scar on his eye(don't remember much more.) He were Focused on archery, sneaking and magic. His used light armor. Since the begin of the game I knew he should join the Stormcloaks. After he joined the Stormcloaks I also desided that he should join the Thieves guild and the Dark Brotherhood. He is now about lvl 75 and still not done with all the quest I want to do with him. I stopped for a while playing with him because i want to take a whole new route with other adventures and a lot of new things to learn but I know that I'll never be done with him.

vahlok do laas

Name: Fang

Level: 91

Sex: Male

Appearance: Grey and black fur. Long grey mane. Some white stripes of fur on face

Master skills: Master of all schools of magic except for Destruction. Master of nearly all skills for that matter.

I have two main characters I play with, though many other side ones:

First, a level 42 Altmer named Nysmir. He's a master of Destruction magic, mainly fire, is the Arch-Mage of The College of Winterhold, and travels Skyrim with Lydia. He's married to Revyn Sadri of Sadri's Used Wares, owns five house, has 500,000 Septims to his name, hoards treasure, and enjoys treasure-hunting in old ruins, whether they be Dwemer or Nordic, with Lydia. 

Second is Briston. He is a level 35 Bosmer.  He's a master thief and the leader of the Thieves Guild. His forte is his beloved Daedric Bow and picking pockets. He travels with Marcurio of The Bee and Barb, whom he might have a crush on, and spends all his time stealing from anyone unlucky enough to cross his path. 

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i usally play as a nordic worrior (stormcloak) and I maily use an warhammer to destroy any opposing force I favor light to hevy armor. I like to spend my tim looking for dovah-walls to increase my power

Originally my very first Character was a Female Khajiit who was a spellsword who wore strictly Light Armor. But sadly, I didn't get to do much with her because my 360 save file got deleted. So, I made a Male Imperial his name is Geoffry Wilhem IV who  is basically all over the place with skills and Armor. But lately I've been using mostly Destruction magic and Alteration with Full Dragonplate Armor. Sometimes I shapeshift and take on whole cities or, I just wander around Skyrim looking for things to do. My Imperial also likes aggrovate town guards as well, beating them to a thread of their life and then healing them with Grand Healing --- and Repeat. xD My Imperial tends to get into a lot of trouble so I have to make sure he has plenty of Septims to pay off the Guards - thanks to my Thieves Guild Status -- he pays only 12 gold or I just persuade them to let me go. He's a pretty tough guy, but never underestimates enemies, because they can take him down at anytime.

And then I have a second Character on a seperate HDD who is a Breton at level 5 his name Leonard (how original xD) who uses Destruction/Alteration/Conjuration and then switches to a steel dagger when his Magicka runs too low. He's barely starting off so messing about is a no-no for me until I reach a high enough skill level and high enough level.

i play as lilah, a nord woman. she has 2 children and ownes all the houses of skyrim shes a assassin thief and is a vampire lord she built a house by morthal and solitude she ownes shadowmere and arvak and she is very evil wahhaha (she's trying to change) 

My first was an Imperial two-handed fighter that I used to figure the game out.

My second and main character for a while was an Argonian mage who was super powerful (100 destruction, illusion, conjuration, alteration).

I now mainly play Wood Elf archers, Kahjiit assassins, and Redguard Sword-and-Shield fighters.

My best and most OP character was the latter. I named him The LAST Dragonborn, and he had a Dragonbone Sword that did 376 base damage, with 25 fire and 21 absorb life. His armor rating is around 600 from Dragonscale Armor, Gauntlets, Boots, and the Konariik mask with Spellbreaker as a shield. Legendary difficulty, all quests completed, all powerfulm enemies defeated, level 83, almost 1000 HP, 800 Stamina, 200 magicka (enchantments). !00 One-handed, 100 Light-armor, 100 Smithing, 100 Enchanting, 100 Restoration, Block legendaried 7 times, Heavy-armor 80-something, Two-handed 80-something, own every house, not married, no children, at least 40,000 bounty in every hold but The Pale, you get the picture.

Name - Alkanfal Freddrage 

First Name Meaning- "Alkanfal", Japanese roman for "Archangel" (or guardian).

Surname Meaning - "Freddrage" , "Fred", Norse for "peace" and "Drage", Norse for "Dragon".

Other Names - Alkanfal The Brave, The Champion, Alkanfal The Unbroken, Dovahkiin.

Titles - Legate of the Imperial Legion, Thane of Whiterun, Guardian of the Realm. 

Nationality - Nord, Born in Skyrim (Solitude) and time as a traveling Labourer & Bard.

Age - Early 30's.

Height - 5 foot 8 inches (173 centimeters)

Weight - 200 lbs (90 KG)

Build - Short but well proportioned for a Nord, and with lean muscle-mass. Stocky but Athletic.

Hair colour & style- Dark Brown, close to black. Short and cropped close.

Eye colour - Light blue.

Facial hair and style - Thick goatee, shaved at sides and cheeks. Dark brown with lashes of grey.

Scars - Light scar on cheek & above left eye.

Health - Poor eye-sight over longer distances. Excellent cardio-fitness and physical strength.

Amour - Imperial Closed Helm, Dwarven Armour. 

Weapons - Two Handed Greatsword, One Handed Kitana sword & Dwarven shield.

Magic - Basic Restoration.

Abilities - Cold resistant, shout, physical strength exceeding much larger Nords, high stamina.

BIO
Legate Alkanfal Freddrage of the Imperial Legion, Thane of Whiterun, Dragonborn and The Guardian of the Realm. A low-born Nord of Skyrim, Alkanfal was born to a Nord Labourer called Chalmer Freddrage, who was married to a young Imperial women, whose name is not on record. The Freddrage family were once a noted family in Tamriel, spending the 1st & 2nd Era as reknowned Chamberlains for noble families & imperial wardens. The Freddrage family, had a great reputation as being the best family to trust with the overall administration of holds, keeps and noble houses. There was, for a time, a de facto treaty across all of Nirn, that allowed anyone to purchase the services of a Freddrage, as their vow of loyalty, obedience & protection to the well-being of their employer and/or family they had pledged their oath to, ensured that even under torture, a Freddrage would never speak or betray their master.

For around 200 years, the Freddrage family would serve as Chamberlains and Stewards to all of the major imperial, royal and elite households, on ALL sides of all conflicts. Despite their role and history as great administrators and guardians of secret, the Freddrage family, were also known for their great intellect, wit, tactical prowess and an ability to devise the best route to solve a problem. Many whispers and testimoney, show that the Freddrage administrators, would often provide council to their lairds on terms of war, battles, sieges and the logistical side of warfare. 

An old saying arose at this time - "If its a smart plan, thank the chamberlain".

The Freddrage family enjoyed great prestige, respect and good fortune. However, time, disease, war and a period of prolongued war-time austerity, saw a shift in how noble households were ran. Their promotion of an emphasis on cheap labour and fiscal prudence...would ironically see the Freddrage family's fortunes decline. As the structure of government changed and the empires of the years, reducing the number of conflicts and further centralisation of war command.......the Freddrage's soon become nothing more than dependable butlers and waiters.

In the century before the Dragon Crisis and the civil war in Skyrim, one of the last Freddrage's, Fjorrin Freddrage, started a small-scale Labouring business in Solitude. The business proved to be fruitful and he married a young Breton lady called Leanna, and they had 2 children. One of which, the boy, was Chalmer Freddrage. Chalmer was taught by Fjorrin, all the ways to run a business, sell a service, the philosophy of sales, how to convince potential customers to trust you and how to negotiate an agreement. With the new "Father & Son's Nord Labour Service" now known as the "go-to" source for additional and skilled labour, they soon landed a contract to oversee the Chamberlainship of the Imperial Legion headquarters at Castle Dour. It was here, where the 15 year old Chalmer, befriended many soldiers, their generals and was present for many of their war-plannings and tactical meetings. 

Chalmer was hooked on reading, tactics, history and combat. He began studying at the Bard's college, and discovered a love of songs, rhymes, poetry and language in general. Chalmer soon grew into a strong young man and was considering joining the Imperial Legion. But injury was to strike Fjorrin. A fatal injury. One day, while out looking for Khajit contractor's to help with a new blacksmith forge project in Castle Dour, Fjorrin was attacked by a group of Nord separatists, who saw his Imperial gauntlet, which Fjorrin needed to travel in and out of the Castle with ease. The Nord Separatists, recognising Fjorrin as a traitor, charged at the elderly gentlemen and cut him down with a battle-axe. He was killed instantly.

Chalmer was crushed at the news. His father was a good man and a proud Nord, who believed the empire brought peace and equality to all of Tamriel and he believed any price for peace...was one worth paying. Chalmer decided that he would father a son, and that his son would be given the means to protect himself and those who cannot fight to protect their own peace. 

Chalmer, once grieving was over, used his wit, charm and intellect, along with his muscular & hard-grafted Nord physique, to atract a young Imperial women named Valkyrie. Valkyrie was a wily and tomboyish women. Witty, intellegent and naturally beautiful, with a fondness for archery and sword-play, she brought the best out in Chalmer and willingly gave him that which he desired.....a son. 

Valkyrie was a traditional Imperial women. She respected and honoured their titles and governance. It was a matter or PRIDE for a women, to give birth to a son that would serve the realm and the empire. The boy was born some 30 years prior to the Dragon Crisis & Skyrim civil war. They named the boy Alkanfal, a name Valkrie was sure she heard whispered from the trees... one bright Spring morning..... Valkyrie loved the boy and so did Chalmer. They doted on him and raised him in the loud halls of Castle Dour, where Chalmer and Valkyrie had maintained and ran the family business. The boy grew up around soldiers, blacksmiths and generals....it wasnt long until the young boy, by now the age of 10, was being taken to the Bard's College by his father Chalmer. 

Alkanfal was taught the importance of language, speech, verse, song, poetry and literacy. Alkanfal, surrounded by love and the security of Castle Dour and the intellectual stimulation of the Bards College......excelled. By the age of 15, Young Alkanfal had read over 1000 books. From history to maps to mythology to religion to tactics and survival.....the young boy had engineered a ferocious intellect. At 16 years old, his father decided to elevate his position from "son earning his allowance"...to making him a full partner in the Labouring business. The name "Father & Son's Nord Labour Service", now had life again. Alkanfal would spend 10 hours a day, working non-stop, with no break, pounding metal and climbing scaffolding at Castle Dour. He would work all over Solitude. From odd-jobs to building houses and repairs. The remaining 10 hours would be spent in the Bard's college, Library and then the Winking Skeever, where the young man would entertain the regulars, and the ladies, with his stories, knowledge and song. 

By the age of 18, Alkanfal was now firmly considering his options in life. His father and mother had both explained to him, that they would support him no matter what he did. He could run the family business, join the legion or choose another path. Alkanfal, had made the decision, that he would run the business and care for his now ageing parents, until the age of 25, and then he would join the legion and help protect the peace. The anti-Empire separatists of Skyrim, were now much larger, organised and more popular, than when they killed his grandfather, Fjorrin, and Alkanfal identified them as a genuine risk to peace....and therefor....the lives of the innocent.

Things were going fantastically well for Alkanfal. He spent the ages from 18 to 24, working hard all over Solitude and spending more time hiring others to work for him as his fortune grew. This enabled the young Alkanfal, to leave Solitude to travel all over Skyrim and sell various services and network. He established trade and supply relationships with Nords in Whiterun, Riverwood, Dawnstar and Winterhold. On many of these travels, Alkanfal encountered multiple bandits, beasts and guilds. He had many fights and skirmishes but a lifetime of combat training with the finest warriors and generals of the Imperial Legion, meant that when his tactical evasions failed, Alkanfal was a more than capable, and in fact, very very skilled fighter. He weilded a powerful double-handed sword and had a powerful and ferocious style. Alkanfal's philosophy was very much "fight your way to Sovengarde!". This fusion of intellect, skill & Nord physicality, soon earned him a reputation among bandits....soon, there were no attacks but of beasts on Alkanfal. 

Things were going well for Alkanfal.....until, again, the bad luck that seemed to follow the Freddrages whenever they settled.....would strike again.

Alkanfal's mother Valkyrie, was to contract and infection of the lung. It burned through her and took her quickly. She died with both Alkanfal and Chalmer at her side. She died with a smile on her face. She never got to see Alkanfal join the legion, but she knew enough of him as a man to know nothing would stop him. Chalmer, however, was crushed. One evening, after a hearty evening of wine and song with the rest of the bards and his son Alkanfal, now 24 and completely running the business on his own, Chalmer sat his son down to talk. Chalmer explained that he would no longer be able to help around the business and that he felt, he was not long for this Earth. Alkanfal, tried to plead with his father to stop the morbidity. Chalmer carried on, telling his son that all the business and everything else was handed over to him. But that the economy was starting to struggle and the empire were having to cut back on menial labour contracts, due to the increased costs of dealing with the new separatist uprising. Chalmer warned that the separatists were growing from a group of angry rebels....into a storm. 

Chalmer gave his son the deeds to his entire estate and begged with him to get to the registrar in Whiterun as soon as he could. To register his rights to the deeds and to then join the Legion, with all the security that his mother and father had left behind. Alkanfal agreed. He had 6 months left until he turned 25 and would honour his oath and stick to his life-path. Later that night, Chalmer went to sleep......for the last time. The diagnosis was cardiac arrest. His heart stopped. 

Having buried his mother and father in Solitude, a fitting name for the current state of young Alkanfal's existence, Alkanfal slipped into a period of deep mourning. Isolating himself in his servant quarters at Castle Dour, he stopped attending the bard's college and was not seen at the Winking Skeever for quite some time. The soldiers at Castle Dour were Alkanfal's only company and contact with the outside world. One evening, Alkanfal had a terrifying dream, where a dragon reminded him that the business was not yet his to secure and if he didnt get to Whiterun soon......something might prevent him. 

Alkanfal snapped out of his stooper and marauded through the town as if nothing had happened. He packed up his stuff and got on his horse, bound for Whiterun. On the way to Whiterun, Alkanfal enountered a young women in distress. She was half-naked and dirty, yelling that someone was going to rape her young sister. Alkanfal, caught off-guard and keen to help, got off his horse and darted toward the cave, under the direction of the distressed girl. As he got to the entrance of the cave.........BANG!!! The girl smacked Alkanfal over the head with a mace that she had picked up from behind some rocks. As Alkanfal lay, unable to move, he saw the girl, joined by three men, raiding through his horse, taking his bag and his valuables....and his deeds. Alkanfal passed out to the thought that he had lost everything his parents left him...

Alkanfal opened his eyes. He had no idea where he was but he new he could not move. He could just about turn his head and did so......to be met by the sight of a crouched over Giant. The Giant turned and looked at Alkanfal - "You are sick Nord. You stay till better. Then go. Or go now and die in outside". The giant tended to Alkanfal and gave him food and various medicines. The Giant was even helping to excersize Alkanfal's limbs as they slowly regained their function. Soon, Alkanfal was standing and walking. He began helping the Giant to take care of his cave-house. The Giant, grew fond of the friendly and kind Nord, who was very strong for a "half-beast" as the Giant liked to call men. The Giant allowed Alkanfal to help him with his Mammoth herding. Alkanfal soon recovered to full fitness. The Giant said Alkanfal was free to leave and return any time he wished, but that the giant was leaving for Morrowind, since while Alkanfal was recovering from him coma, paralysis and regaining fitness.....civil war had broken out in Skyrim. Alkanfal was shocked as the Giant explained that the separatists ("the angry Nords") had gone to war with the empire ("the skinny like-Nords") and that many people had already been killed. 

Alkanfal was shocked. His prediction that the growing separatist threat, the separatists who had killed his grandfather and attacked him and took his whole life......HAD grown in organisation and WERE now a threat to the realm, the peace and those unable to protect peace for themselves. Alkanfal learned that he had been in a coma for 2 years and a year had passed since he woke up. Alkanfal was now 28 and had already broken his promise to join the empire. He had faith that his family would understand that this path was denied to him. Alkanfal decided he would still join the empire.....but felt he had to try and retrieve the legacy his family had left him....the deeds to their estate and bank-savings. 

Alkanfal headed off and found that the Giant's cave was near Whiterun. Alkanfal made his way to Solitude.....but was shocked to find that many of his elderly locals had passed on and that his younger friends had left to join the empire and had been deployed in war. Most of the town had either moved away or died since the outbreak of the war over the last year and Alkanfal couldnt find anyone he knew. He went to Castle Dour but the forces stationed there were completely different than the peace-time training and reserve training that he was accustomed to. 

Even the remaining bards could not remember the young boy, now a young man. The bards of Alkanfal's childhood were all dead or had left due to the war. 

Alkanfal decided that before joining the legion, which would mean his immediate deployment into the war, he would try once more to regain the deeds to the estate and the deeds to the family bank account. Alkanfal, with distrust and cold tactical objective, steeling his eyes, decided to head to as many pro-Stormcloak bandit groups as possible, to try and find which group operated in that area of Whiterun and which division of Stormcloaks had claimed his families estate. 

However, again, when the 9 divines entertain someone as a possible champion....it is never straightforward. Near the town of Helgen........as Alkanfal caught up with a group of Stormcloak's that a Redguard in Whiterun said had the Stormcloak's leader among them, an Imperial Legion trap was sprung to capture the Stormcloaks. Alkanfal tried to turn back but the Imperial's rear-guard had him cut off. Rather than fight the very Imperial Legion that he was just about to join and was raised among, Alkanfal cooperated. Hoping to be able to plead his case or call on old Castle Dour records to have him released. 

Alkanfal however, did not yet understand just what type of civil war it was......

Alkanfal was taken to Helgen to be executed among the same men who he himself considered an enemy...and by the very Legion he was raised among and desired to fight and died for.....

It was then....that the dragon came. 

Alkanfal is a champion of peace and defender of the realm. His oath is to all of the empire, all of Tamriel and all of its citizens. 

Now aged 30 and with dozens of battles and victories under his belt....and hundreds of enemies bodies under his feet.....Alkanfal is an acclaimed Legate of the Imperial Legion, who spends his spare-time roaming the realm and defending, helping and teaching the citizenry. 

To Alkanfal....The Unbroken. 




 

KhagraTheJester

I have an Orc named Khagra (figures), and he's a Heavy Armor WarHammer character. He smiths alot and likes to switch between followers alot.

Revision because I was very lazy at writing: My first character, as stated before, is an Orcish whom is loyal to Malacath and Zenithar in their customs of Honor and working for your living. He is married to his wonderful wife Ysolda, and lives in Lakeview Manor, and owns Heljarchen Hall, Breezehome, and Hjerim. He has switched weapons to being a WarAxe user but still perfers Heavy Armor. He has started to dabble in enchanting the legendary weapons and armor that he smiths with bare hands. He is a strong Stormcloak and is a member of the Dawnguard. Alduin The World Eater fell to Khagra, and his mortal head makes a nice peice in his trophy room. Ghorbash the Iron Hand is his very...well kept(?) steward for his home. Arvak is his horse and on adventures he likes to...collect alcohol. Not drink it. He is only a collector. Mjall the Lioness is his Companion in the field. 

All of my characters I play are Argonian, and I have only played Mage once. Even then, I used Bound blades and Bows...the other times I play as an Argonian, I play a Thief, join (Almost) all of the Guilds, and complete the main questline for each Guild. I always try to level up my sneak to the maximum, and my archery, which is a pain. I don't use magic alot, but a couple of the Shouts are really helpful. I've been trying to collect all the masks. On one of my characters, I started collecting them after I killed Alduin...I realized where the last mask was. I don't usually get into relationships, mainly due to the fact I hardly ever go home.

My first character in all my games is Bibo90, (I don't know why I name them that, but it stuck) I was a khajiit that used the heaviest armour and weapons.

My second character was a guy named shadowpelt, he was another khajiit and, as his name says: He is a shadow, I made him super sneaky-deaky and kill the littlest amount of people.

(All of my guy's are nightingales, 'cause they're so cool!)

My third character was a nord that I made as ugily as I could make her, I tried to fail all my missions, kill people, basically, just ruin skyrim.