Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20140416193533/@comment-24449631-20140420024931

An Alternative World. Introducing Rowan Autumn-Arrow
Name: Rowan Autumn-Arrow

Race: Nord

Gender: Male

Age: 18

Appearance: Lightbrown hair, Blue-greyish eyes. light beard grow. Pretty strongly build, like most Nords but not a 'monster'

Class: Warrior

Powers(Racial + 2 more max):

Armor: chainmail shirt, covered with a kyrtill tunic which in turn was straped tight with a nordic belt, which also held a locket for his sword. leather trousers where from each leg was binded together with linen binds from under the knee into the shoes. Which were also made of leather. He also has a quiver on his back that is strapped to a diagonal belt. his kyrtill tunic also rests into hide braces at the end of each sleeve. The bracelets of Geldwin were enchanted pieces of armour that severely reduced damage from destruction magic. Getting rid of burns and the like.

Weapon(s): Silver sword. Steel arrows. Imperial Bow.

Faction: None as of yet.

Backstory: Check my profile. Only note that the timeline is different considering this takes place about a hundred years later.

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(Since there’s practically no one but me and psycho in LoN I figure I might as well stop wasting my time waiting for some reply from anyone else but him and join this instead.)

Riften was lovely this time of year. Ever since 220 the city has seen some stellar improvement. Rising itself up from the ‘slum status’ it had received after the fire from 129. No, Riften was now once again that proud trading post between Cyrodiil and Morrowind.

It was The 7th of Sun’s Dawn 4E 304 and the Endwinter feast was being prepared for. Since Skyrim had grown increasingly autonomous of the Empire it was little moved by the death of the Emperor, and it certainly wasn’t enough to spoil the festivities that would be held every year at this time since 223. Nords take some time getting used to ‘new traditions’ but when they do it seemed as if they had been doing them for centuries. It didn’t matter in the end. Skyrim and especially not The Rift and its Jarl weren’t going to worry about the troubles of the South.

Rowan looked at his mother Sigur with some doubts in his eyes.

"Must I really?" the 18 year old asked in kind of a whiny voice.

"Yes, you have to, for Arkey’s sake… Stop it Rowan." Mother made him clear.

"But it’s just not comfortable…" Rowan said as the bright young Nord he was.

His mother dropped the clothes she was folding and walked over to Rowan who didn’t seem to like her intentions, but over the years he had learned that arguing with this woman was pointless. Probably why Father married her…

"No, come on…" Rowan tried to plea with her.

But it was no good, she grabbed hold of the laces of his old Nordic shirt and tightened them to an even more uncomfortable knot.

"This outfit has been worn by your father…" She dusted off the coat of her son, who was a half a head taller than her.

"… And my grandfather, yeah yeah… I know" Rowan quickly finished her. Knowing the speech all too well.

"Oh good, so you know its significance then…" She finished while  deliberately putting his traditional hat on his head in kind of a dorky fashion. Which made his ears come from the side.

"Ma…" Rowan complained as he put it on correctly.

<p class="MsoNormal">His mother took a few steps back and looked at her son. One hundred percent proud of him.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Just look at you…" She said gleaming with pride.

<p class="MsoNormal">She then halted Kona, Rowan’s sister, who was passing by and asked her for an opinion.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Hey looking good, big brother…" She joked. Obviously enjoying Rowan’s displeasement with his attire for the festival

<p class="MsoNormal">Rowan felt embarrassed.

<p class="MsoNormal">His only solace was found in the fact that the entire Town would come all dressed up in old fashioned clothing. And the fact that by the end of the day everyone would be completely pissed and absolutely not concerned with ‘the preservation of a clean costume’

<p class="MsoNormal">He had to agree though, the Endwinter feast was always a guarantee of a good time.

<p class="MsoNormal">It’ll be nice to see Arní and Viktor again. It’s been quite some time since he had seen his friends. Arní had gone to Winterhold for a while and Viktor had gone to Shor’s Stone to help his father, who was a smith there. It’ll be nice to hear their stories.

<p class="MsoNormal">As for Rowan, what had he done during the winter?

<p class="MsoNormal">Err. He helped his father with the fishery mostly, he did some swimming in Lake Honrich to keep up his strength... Oh, and he had also sailed with the Olafdakkar, their ship.

<p class="MsoNormal">Rowan really enjoyed Sailing. He couldn’t wait for the day he could be captain of the ship. And that might even be sooner than he expected. His father had been complaining about the strain on his back. Still, He was a long way from owning his own ship. And it was only a Lake boat. If you wanted to sail the open seas you need to go Windhelm… or Dawnstar.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Just wait until your father sees you.” His mother said as she flattened out any imperfections in the costume.

<p class="MsoNormal">It was old Norse. So it had Fur lining, small geometrical patterns which symbolised Kyne’s blessing. And Dragon motifs. The shirt was made out of wool. The coat’s for lining of bear fur and the hat as well. Light Leather tuck-in trousers and leather, with fur lining boots.

<p class="MsoNormal">Rowan also wore for the occasion, a dagger. Not that he was gonna stab anyone. But here in Skyrim it was considered a fashionable clothing item. It could also be used as a corkscrew if a regular one didn’t work. A trick Viktor once showed him.

<p class="MsoNormal">Rowan smiled at his mother as she was busy making him ‘presentable’.

<p class="MsoNormal">"It is alright Mother…" he slowly took her hands of his chest. And held them, to instil trust into his words.

<p class="MsoNormal">"It is going to be fine."

<p class="MsoNormal">"of course my son… I’m so proud of you." She whispered and raised herself to her toes so she could kiss him on the cheek.

<p class="MsoNormal">"I’m going out then." Rowan said as he walked to the door.

<p class="MsoNormal">"We’ll join soon after" His father, Heppni said as he passed Rowan.

<p class="MsoNormal">"oh… Ok" Rowan hadn’t noticed him before.

<p class="MsoNormal">The Nord noticed a proud look in his father’s eyes. Probably because he wore that old costume.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Well, See ya soon" Rowan pressed on.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Aye!" His Father called after him.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Oh and if you see Sterk tell him to come home. He’s not ‘escaping’ his costume either." His mother added.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Will do." Rowan assured her. Although he had no idea where in the city his younger brother would be.

<p class="MsoNormal">-

<p class="MsoNormal">The cool end winter breeze was pretty nice. Nord homes often were pretty warm and if you stayed in too long, it could get incredibly hot.

<p class="MsoNormal">''Especially when you wore something like this. ''Rowan thought.

<p class="MsoNormal">Some would say that orange leaves can only be found during Autumn but not in Riften, here you’d find them the year round. It was as if The rift was locked in a forever Fall. It was perhaps the best known thing about his hold.

<p class="MsoNormal">However only a true Nord from the rift could recognise the seasons in the leaves. You see. The trees might be autumnal for the entire year, but that doesn’t mean they’re not affected by the seasons. There are slight differences in tint with every season. For example the leaves are a much brighter orange in the Summer then they are now. Now they’re borderline: ‘light brown’, in some cases.

<p class="MsoNormal">Rowan walked the boardwalk of the town as he looked around the richly decorated wooden Nordic themed houses. Rightfully restored through hard work and dedication of the people of Riften. Dragonhead ridges like from the old days, or the likes from Whiterun dominated most houses again.

<p class="MsoNormal">Rowan passed several houses until eventually he reached the town square where the festivities would be held later that evening.

<p class="MsoNormal">As Rowan breathed in the smell of sweetrolls, mead and other feast-goodness he reminded himself of the good life he was leading. The Autumn-Arrows had always enjoyed a pretty good life though.

<p class="MsoNormal">Despite the silly costume. It couldn’t get any better.