Bishop

This ranger thought he had seen it all throughout his 27 years in Tamriel. He was ready to retreat into the woods with his only constant companion, a somewhat domesticated wolf, but then the air itself shook with the coming of a woman who’d try to barge past him into the Sleeping Giant Inn.

He was raised nomadically, always in the wilds of unknown territory and having to quickly learn how to traverse, hunt, and cheat his way through all of it to come out on top. His abilities in ranged combat and up close with his knife excel enough to be on par with the Dragonborn as events tie them together. But both may find that a simple joint adventure turned into something far more dangerous.

Every moment of his life has taught him not to trust another soul. Will it take a dragon’s to show him a new perspective, or will his chance for a new future fall through to his fate – to be Skyrim’s most ineligible bachelor?













Casavir

His vows and his origins are from Cyrodiil. That is all you may ever know of this formal paladin who exudes holy justice with every fiber of his being. His history with a certain ranger bubbles to the surface and courtly whispers fail to penetrate his steel armor, but the truth is guarded with honesty and even protection, both for himself and this enchanting legend he so desired to meet.

Casavir’s concern for the Dragonborn’s welfare in the presence of Bishop’s corruption is as deep and genuine as his voice. Matters may be beyond his control but Solitude is his territory, and he intends to show her the chivalrous side of courtship that a rough ranger never could.













Cael

To fight is a Forsworn’s life, whether they are on the front lines or aiding and masterminding their battles. This one has done it all since he was sixteen years old. A mother who came from a noble family ensured that his upbringing was educated and that her son had the acceptance of society. A father who lived up to every expectation of a stern and fearsome warchief ensured strength and savagery. This resulted in a strange and unique mix; a Forsworn Chieftain who is soft-spoken but deadly, intelligent but naive, compassionate but sharp of tongue and wit.

Cael’s fascination with the legend who has come to life in a physical form was pushed aside by his loyalty to his people, however. His village has been under attack and it is while investigating with his right-hand-man and closest friend, Anu, and his sister, Robin, that a chance meeting finally comes to pass. Time is of the essence but this is his one chance to exchange words with this unexpectedly stunning individual.













Alec

An Imperial in the most Nordic city of the most Nordic province where Nords openly hate Imperials may come as a little unorthodox, but that danger is where the adventure lies for this poet of strings. Alec is a social climber and to perform in the Palace of Kings would be like climbing the Throat of the World to the society of bards back in Cyrodiil.

His gilded tongue has ensured that he isn’t hacked to death in the dead of night, so long as he entertains the local riffraff with his premier talents. Every night that he is troubled by the latest ruffian who belched in the middle of his recital, he assures himself that getting through Candlehearth Hall.

Then comes his true muse. Someone who is so worthy of ballads and myths that she was one before she appeared in this savage land. His inspiration latches onto her entirely and the words flow like never before, but there’s a catch. He needs to perform it, and the Nords’ hero could be his ticket to his Throat of the World…

Location: Windhelm, Candlehearth Hall, top story.













Jack

A pirate’s life isn’t always the height of life on the seas. This much is demonstrated by Jack, a Redguard who finds himself beached on foreign lands with no ship to captain and a revolting poison as his only consumable. Those foreign lands being the docks of the most sophisticated city in Skyrim, his ship being misplaced, and the poison being crates of wine that he “found” to accompany his dwindling supply of rum.

He has only his far-flung tales to keep him company until the day arrives where a far more fetching version of Ulfric comes along and reunites him with his vessel. Because this foreign poison has guaranteed that he cannot simply walk back by himself. Well, either with the Dragonborn or the Solitude Guards.

Will the sloshed sailor who isn’t entirely sure this is reality leave a lasting impression on the despairing Bishop, though? Or at least, an impression that will last until the morning after…













Julian

Born of the love that blossomed between a stubborn ranger, Bishop, and the Dragonborn, Julian is a welcome blessing in both of his parents’ lives. He has a sweet and gentle, yet stubborn personality. His parents train him from a young age to be able to use weapons, especially the bow, and to be able to hunt. He is always eager to go on adventures with his mom and father, but he is too young to at the age of 6 years old. Drawing is one of his passions, and his drawings hang on the wall in his room and around the cottage where his family lives. He also loves to spend time playing with Karnwyr and Eira, his family’s wolves. When he goes to bed, he often has to hear a bedtime story from either his father or his mother before he can go to sleep.













Karnwyr

A runt of a litter is the youngest and weakest, likely to be rejected and cast out by its family. In Karnwyr’s case that never occurred as he and his littermates were born into the captivity of bandit breeders. His mother, starved and alone, died mere weeks after he came into the world. He never knew a father and the first months of his life were spent being plumped up for a life of cage fighting.

When the winds of war hit the bandit camp, they brought with it a grumpy teenager who turned his life upside down. Well, he gave Karnwyr the chance to escape and the scraggly wolf cub returned the favour by stalking him and then saving everything Bishop held dear. Including his ass.

Since then, the russet brown wolf and the alpha brooder have been inseparable, through loss and tragedy, through hangovers and even arguments. (Karnwyr marking his territory in Bishop’s boots at night is a very serious matter.) Loyalty has never been a question and there’s not a chance in Oblivion that they would value a bitch over their bond. If you want the ranger, you get the wolf.













Darren

A talent for ice magic was a rarity and a spectacle in a community of Breton nobles. To go to the coldest place in Tamriel to study at its unique Mages College seemed only natural to Darren and his family. Only, when he got there he realised one fatal flaw he had never considered. It really is terribly cold.

His friends back home constantly communicate sympathy at his awful plight, but he is stuck out here, where his nose might turn into an icicle if he sticks it any higher in the air. It wasn’t so bad when he had his friends in Solitude and their basements of mulled wine, but the city’s righteous guardian soon put a stop to his drunken magic debauchery. The event will never be mentioned again by any party that night, but it involved the creation of an ice spike. One that reached the centre ring of the city’s bunting and was heavily implied that it was larger and bluer than Casavir’s… eyes.

The Frozen Hearth is the place of retreat that has to suffer through Darren’s moping. Things take a turn for the better when his sulking on the porch reveals a woman as beautiful as his family estate’s roses, a beauty among the thorns of the barbaric Nords. Dinner ensues, fires are stoked, wine is poured and his noble hospitality has a place once more. If only sweet roses didn’t lead to sore noses.













Thorn

For almost a decade, Skyrim’s southern regions have been terrorized by a vicious beast and his gang of ruffians who were deemed too unruly for even criminal organisations. What is now known as Haelga’s Bunkhouse was once the target of their wanton raids but their dominating scheme was foiled by a Nord, an elf, a half-Khajiit and a wolf. In return, Thorn took everything Bishop had and left a lasting scar.

Ever since that day, Thorn and Bishop have danced in a never-ending waltz of revenge. It has been the ranger’s move for a few years but he hasn’t taken it since last he heard, Thorn was holed up in some cave deep in the forest and had doubled the numbers of his followers.

However, it is unfinished business and the almighty Dragonborn insists on dragging Bishop along to every corner of Skyrim. Falkreath Hold included…













Raven

The downfall of the Thieves Guild meant not only great losses for them and their reputation, but also the lives their organisation shapes. Raven was an orphan whose head was filled with stories and tall tales of a life beyond Honorhall Orphanage’s walls. So tall, in fact, that they inspired him to climb over those walls and never look back. He is rarely at their headquarters and rarely doing jobs, he prefers to be out in the open and trying to achieve what he thinks a gallant thief would do. Then daydreaming about it when he realises it isn’t happening.

His fellow thieves have never minded as he’s been a little brother to all of them since he was a child. He still knows how to eavesdrop on all the secrets that people never expect him to pay attention to, to hide in the shadows, scale Riften’s wooden structures, and to pick pockets. However, all of that knowledge evaporated when he confronted a newcomer that had the face of his #1 favourite story. All of Raven’s fantasies have led up to a moment like this, can he possibly fulfill them or will he be pushed back into the shadows?













Thomas & Darian

They’re just lads, the villagers say. Out to see some sights before the actually eligible bachelors of the village turn their attentions away from the shop-girl-next-door. Thomas and Darian have been best buds since childhood. Their latest occupation comes down to being too concerned about being separated to join an army, and being too lazy to be actually doing something useful.

They mean well but a constant supply of ale over the past week has left them unable to distinguish the dangers of whose legs they ogle at. Darian jumping into Thomas’s arms when Frodnar tried putting his dog in a Frostbite Spider costume was one thing, and wolf whistling the blacksmith’s calves was another, but drooling at Delphine carrying out two cabbages in front of her was one step too far. Thomas had to wear his bear fur hood permanently because of the lump he still has from when she punched him down the stairs.

Will their drunken sightseeing come to a painful end at the hands of the brooding loner in the shadows of the inn, or will they have to watch yet another beautiful lass saunter away with someone more eligible than them?













Arias & Marin

Whiterun’s neutrality in the war proved to be advantageous as Marin ushered his rowdy friend into the inn for a well-deserved break. He did not dare take them into The Bannered Mare as hostilities are still high and to let an intoxicated Imperial Legion Nord loose in Skyrim’s most popular inn isn’t the best of ideas.

The blond still had the sobriety to change out of his armour, but only so he still had the composure to impress the ladies with his learned manner. His important role in the logistics of the Legion combined with his knowledge of less tasteful novels may have been an effective seduction technique, but he owes it all to the man who saved his life on the battlefield.

Marin has the divinely sculpted facial hair and eloquent tongue for wooing the beauties of the citizenship, but is his loyalty to his wasted wingman holding him back?













Anomen & Frodo

There’s a story behind the Whiterun Guard in Skyrim’s most corrupt city and the horseless Redguard in more Orcish armour than most actual Orcs, but it’s not one the Dragonborn will ever hear.

Whiterun was the furthest city that Frodo ran to. His closest friend and comrade had died in battle so it had been his duty to return his remains to his family in Daggerfall. He was awarded with his late friend’s armour but he was forced to flee. A confusion of Orismer rights had resulted in him accidentally being taken for a groom in a mating ceremony, rather than attending a funeral. The bride had personally vowed to hunt him down when she realised it, in the nude.

Anomen heard him relay his tale in The Bannered Mare and finally found a use for the family horse he had proudly inherited. To take Frodo to the most entertaining city in Skyrim and help him make it his new home. They now await the right girl in Riften to wash away the memory of vengeful naked Orc brides, but any lass is beautiful in comparison to that. Just don’t tell them about the Orc Stronghold on the other side of the lake.













Neeshka

Neeshka is a woman who knows exactly what she has and exactly what she hasn’t. Manipulating those things to get what she wants is her speciality. For example, a lack of self-respect but a longing for an easily swayed patron’s bulging coinpurse only takes one dark corner to come out on top. She’s never heard the word “no” but then again, she’s never aimed high either…