Sᴋᴏʟʟ Cʀᴜᴇʟ-Sᴘᴇᴀʀ

[ɪɢɴᴀᴛɪᴜs]

 •●• sᴋᴏʟʟ ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ-sᴘᴇᴀʀ •●•

 ᴡᴇ ᴅʀɪɴᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴜʀ ʏᴏᴜᴛʜ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴀʏs ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴏɴᴇ.
 ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɢᴇ ᴏғ ᴏᴘᴘʀᴇssɪᴏɴ ɪs ɴᴏᴡ ɴᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴅᴏɴᴇ.
 ᴡᴇ'ʟʟ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜɪs ʟᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴏᴡɴ. 
 ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴏᴜʀ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴜʀ sᴛᴇᴇʟ ᴡᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴏᴜʀ ʜᴏᴍᴇ.
 — ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɢᴇ ᴏғ ᴏᴘᴘʀᴇssɪᴏɴ

 ● ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ●

● ғᴜʟʟ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ● Skoll Cruel-Spear
● ʙʏɴᴀᴍᴇs ● "Cruel-Spear," "Oath-Breaker," "Feeds-Ravens," "Battle-Wolf"

● ᴀɢᴇ ● 33
● ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ ʙɪʀᴛʜ ● 4E 168
● ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ʙɪʀᴛʜ ● Ivarstead, Skyrim

● ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ● Male
● sᴇxᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ ● Heterosexual
● ᴍᴀʀɪᴛᴀʟ sᴛᴀᴛᴜs ● Single

● ᴀғғɪʟɪᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ● Companions (formerly), Stormcloaks (currently)
● ʀᴀɴᴋ ● Newblood (Companions), Bone-Breaker (Stormcloaks)

● sᴘᴇᴄɪᴇs ● Men
● sᴜʙsᴘᴇᴄɪᴇs ● Nord

● sᴋɪʟʟs + ᴀʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇs ● While perhaps not so skilled as his older colleagues, Skoll has striven his hardest to be the best he can be. Not an easy goal, and certainly a frustrating one, he has readily accepted guidance from those he consider's masters in order to better himself.

Resist Frost, those of Nordic blood have a constant, 50% resistance to ice.

Battle Cry, once a day, a Nord can release a fearsome cry that staggers his opponent. It has a limited range of twelve feet.

One-Handed (100), from the moment he could wield the hefty practice swords in his father's smithy, Skoll has been determined to be one of the best single-handed warriors in all of Skyrim. While he never quite accomplished this, most would admit that Skoll is a menace with an axe and a spear, capable of hacking his way through most skirmishes. Not many want to be on the other side of his axe.

Block (75), there are few places Skoll is willing to go without his trusty shield strapped to his back. Though he often feels clumsy with it strapped to his arm, he has doggedly practiced with it to smooth out this disability. For him, this is an invaluable, life-saving skill, and he's determined to master it.

Light Armour (50), while most of his companions prefer a heavier form of protection, Skoll has always preferred going into battle as light as possible. He's not particularly skilled at wearing armour, and feels ill at ease even when in the lightest of armours.

Smithing (25), as the son of a smith, it would have been impossible for Skoll to have grown without picking up some knowledge. While most wouldn't trust his skills for armour or weapons, he's a fair hand at making jewellry. He's never been fond of it, though, and is sorely out of practice.

 ● ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ ●

● ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ● A great bear of a man, there is very little about Skoll that is small or delicate. A towering individual, he is built sturdy and strong, with the defined features that are the Nordic norm.

With deep-set eyes, thick eyebrows, and a long nose that's a trifle too wide, Skoll hardly meets any classic ideals of beauty. Not that he ever wanted to, of course. He is a hairy, burly man, and damn well proud of it.

Skoll's hide is riddled with scars old and new, some thick and ugly, some barely perceptible by the eye. The most obvious of these are on his face. Skoll has a deep scar there, stretching from his left temple to just above his lip. A reminder of what happens when you let an opponent get too close.

Skoll prefers to keep his hair long, wearing it well past his shoulders. When on the field, he usually keeps it tightly bound in a tail, but when idle usually wears it loose with a few braids. While he does maintain a beard, it is neatly trimmed and washed.

As you can see here and in the picture above, Skoll has a few tattoos. They depict scenes from classic mythology, and have various reasons of importance to him.

● ғᴀᴄᴇ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ● Clive Standen
○ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇxɪᴏɴ ○ Pale
○ ʜᴀɪʀ ᴄᴏʟᴏᴜʀ ○ Brown
○ ᴇʏᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏᴜʀ ○ Brown
○ ʙᴜɪʟᴅ ○ Athletic

 ● ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ ●

● ᴅɪsᴄɪᴘʟɪɴᴇᴅ ● ʜᴏɴᴇsᴛ ● ᴘᴇssɪᴍɪsᴛɪᴄ ● ᴘʀᴇᴊᴜᴅɪᴄᴇᴅ ● sᴛᴏɪᴄ ● sᴛᴜʙʙᴏʀɴ ●

● ᴅɪsᴄɪᴘʟɪɴᴇᴅ ● Everything about Skoll is controlled. Whether at ease or at war, he has taught himself to be disciplined in every action. As such, he's not one to forget his duties, nor is he one to flounder about out of his depth. He accepts what he's capable of, and takes no risks, walking through life with a tight grip of control.

● ʜᴏɴᴇsᴛ ● Brutally honest and unsparingly blunt, Skoll has never been the type of person to hide things. He will tell you what he thinks straight out, and has little care if it hurts your delicate feelings. While this could easily be a flaw in his behaviour, it's also a virtue. What you get with Skoll is real, even if it may not be what you want to hear.

● ᴘᴇssɪᴍɪsᴛɪᴄ ● You know the type. The ones that see the world in the worst kind of light, the ones who always believe something bad will happen. Skoll is and always will be a pessimist. He is gloomy even when he should be joyful, and is sure to liberally share his negative views on any given situation.

● ᴘʀᴇᴊᴜᴅɪᴄᴇᴅ ● Having grown in a secluded village far from any form of large populace, Skoll hardly had a thorough education in the peoples of Tamriel. For him, prejudice has been ingrained in his life and manners for as long as he can remember. His narrow-minded view hardly changed when he joined the Stormcloaks, their bigoted ways only worsening his prejudices against Mer and Beast.

● sᴛᴏɪᴄ ● If you're looking to get something from Skoll is way of fear or anger, you're barking up the wrong tree. Seemingly permanently composed, you will get little from his blank stare. He will endure much with few remarks or complaint, and will hardly flinch in the wake of pain.

● sᴛᴜʙʙᴏʀɴ ● While not many realize it, Skoll is as stubborn as an ox. When he sets his mind to something, few things can turn him from it. He is headstrong in the worst of ways, doggedly following any given task to completion.

● ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ● A decidedly grim individual mired in his ways, there is little that can turn Skoll from his chosen paths. Honest to the point of fault, he spares few his opinions and all too readily squashes the delusions of others. Skoll is a harsh, disciplined individual, and is all too ready to do what must be done.

When idle, Skoll has few nervous habits, but he often rubs his neck, rolls his shoulders, or shifts his weight from foot to foot. If and when he talks, he often gestures alongside his words, or pulls at his beard. When he's particularly angry or disturbed, his eyebrow usually finds a home somewhere near his hairline.

Skoll enjoys swimming, even when ice decorates the rivers and lakes. Though he's got the build of a bear, he's more a fish once he's in the water. It could be considered a hobby of his, something he does when he feels particularly stressed or worn out.

Alongside swimming, Skoll enjoys practicing his one-handed and shield skills. If he can't find a willing victim for this, he'll usually track down someone willing to wrestle. Without a doubt, Skoll is an active individual, and does not enjoy being kept idle.

When he was a boy, Skoll fell from a tree and did serious damage to his knees. While he was healed by a proficient mage, his knees remain rather weak compared to another man his age. If he's made to stand for long periods, they often grow painful. Skoll takes potions for the pain, but during the coldest points of the season, his knees grow so tender he often just stays in bed.

Skoll is a superstitious sort, with all the fears and paranoias that comes with it. He is deathly afraid of Draugr, and won't even consider going into any of the ancient temples as a result. You can find a different man for your tomb raiding, thank you very much.

 ● ʜɪsᴛᴏʀʏ ●

● ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ● When Skoll was born, there was much celebration to be had by both friends and family alike. Having suffered through two miscarriages, his parents had long given up hope of ever bringing a healthy babe into the world. When he arrived, squalling and kicking, his parents could hardly contain their joy.

As a babe, he enjoyed a loving environment, protected and cherished by both his parents. But by his third year, the Great War had reared its ugly head, and his mother figured it her duty to help stem the tide. She never returned, and things were never quite the same afterwards.

His father never quite overcame the grief of losing his wife, and was rather harsher than he should have been when raising the boy that looked so much like her. Skoll never hated his father for the treatment he received, but he often chaffed beneath the responsibilities he piled upon his shoulders.

From a young age, he was expected to help in the forge. Whether it be carting water from the river or working the bellows, he was to do his part in helping put food on the table. He never enjoyed the forge, and would find any excuse to sneak out back and practice with his wooden swords.

Skoll passed through childhood quickly, and eventually left his father to find his own way in the world. He eventually found himself in the city of Whiterun, and signed on with the Companions. While he hardly agreed with all of their beliefs, hhe flourished beneath the teachings of the warriors there.

When word reached him of a Jarl who would see Skyrim free of the tyranny of the Imperial Empire, Skoll made the long journey north to the city of Windhelm. The Harbinger hardly approved, and told him if he chose this path, he would find no welcome with them.

He went anyways. He wouldn't regret it either. He hadn't a purpose under the Companions, but with the Stormcloaks, he had a reason to raise his axe.

[dany]

[ Approved ]