Motto: "First in the front, last in the back..."

Leader: Captain Baldur Red-Snow

Also know as: "Necro Nords"

They send small patrol groups up and down the southern roads and border, and hold up in the fort. Patrol groups are always accompanied by at least one "Necro Nord". They're actively repairing the fort of battle damage currently, so the fort isn't yet seamless. Average Stormcloaks for the most part. Some ex legion, some guards, some simple farmers who joined up, and even some Dunmer looking to prove themselves as useful.


Named for their ability to withstand pain and to keep up an assault like dead men. Ulfric said they fight like draugr, and they’re stationed in Falkreath, so the name is fitting. They were selected from other garrisons for their bravery and elite fighting skills to protect the southern border of Whiterun, which was considered the most important spot and highest protection priority. They're all ex legion, so they all have prior knowledge of legion combat training. They wear Nordic Carved armor and use Nordic Carved weapons.

“Enough is enough…”

General Marius Imperius has had enough, being treated like [censored] by the locals was bad enough, being called “Milk-drinker” over and over again by mewling brats and old hags was bad enough, but the so-called high king ordering the guards to tell Marius he had to deal with “more important” matters before speaking to the imperial delegation was were Marius drew the line. Ignoring the protests of the guards, Marius slammed the doors to the Blue palace open. Ignoring the swords being raised before him, Marius strode onward towards the throne room. He passed by several scowling servants, very aggressive soldiers, and snotty nobles. Finally he reached the room, before he was stopped by a stormcloak soldier with his sword raised,

“High King Stormcloak ordered you too-“

Marius wasted no time for his response,

“Your king has no authority over me whelp, Get out of my way…”

The soldier, obviously intimidated by Marius, stepped aside and let Marius and his squad threw.

Two large thrones lay at the back of the room, and there sat the High King Stormcloak, and his newly wed, High-queen Elsief. The room was also filled with lots of people of various social standings, obviously gaining an audience with the high king. Soldiers, thanes, huscarls, servants, farmers, merchants, they were all here. Marius walked down the blue-fur carpet, flanked by his escort.

The High King only noticed the imperial delegation when they were half-way down the carpet, and when he did his eyes flashed with anger, and when they were nearly at the two thrones, he raised his voice and spoke,

“Tell me General Marius, are all legionaries so insolent?”

Marius’s face twisted into a snarl,

“I came in good faith, Ulfric-”

Marius was cut off by the High-queen, whose voice and face was seething rage,

“How dare you speak to your betters like that, you will address him as High-king Storm-“

Marius wasn’t going to be talked down by the likes of Elsief, putting particular venom in his voice,

“Was I talking to you, [censored]? I don’t like to associate myself with women who sleep with there husband’s killer…”

That appeared to shut her up, as her face blushed with shame; she turned and smiled at Ulfric, whom placed his hand in hers. Marius was filled with disgust. Marius turned to face Ulfric once again,

“As I was saying, Ulfric Stormcloak”, Marius smiled mockingly, “The emperor ordered me here out of good faith”.

Ulfric snorted,

“So what is Mede’s response? We’ve been waiting for three months for word from your emperor; will he do the right thing and formally acknowledge Skyrim and its people a independent nation by signing the declaration? And giving in to our-”

Marius wasted no time, he drew his imperial short sword and slammed it in front of the high kings throne, once again ignoring the fact that the entire room was drawing there Nordic swords, Marius felt no fear,

Taken back, and obviously surprised the high king searched for words, before he could respond to Marius actions, Marius spoke in his clearest, most disciplined voice.

“Emperor Amanund Morteierre refuses to acknowledge Skyrim as a independent nation. Currently the imperial navy will be mobilizing to blockade Skyrim’s ports. The east empire company has been contacted, and has agreed to close down its office’s in the cities of Solitude and Windhelm, no goods will flow into Skyrim’s ports, or will arrive from Cyrdoili in caravans. Any attempts to break these blockades or any attempts to smuggle in goods from any province in the empire will be met with deadly force. Furthermore, your request for Emperor Mede to order all remaining imperial troops to stand down has been denied, and the opposite has been ordered. All remaining legates have been ordered to engage in guerrilla war. That is all…”


Before turning away from the stunned High-king, High-queen, and the rest of the court, Marius smiled , and said “Oh my mistake, The emperor also asked me to send his good wishes in regards to you two's recent wedding…”

Name: Logar Grim-maw (Also known as the "Great Wolf" and the "legendary sniper")

Gender: Male

Age: 55

Race: Nord

Faction: Imperial Legion (XI Cohort)

Rank: Legate

Appearance: Tall, Heavy Build, Greyish-brown hair, massive scar on right eye, eye patch covers right eye

Equipment (Weapons, armor, etc) : Wears custom made heavy imperial armor that incorporates a wolf pet, and on stealth missions wears the same custom light imperial armor that his men utilize . Unlike a good deal of his brothers, he utilizes a massive two-handed "rune" axe, which he can take on entire squads of infantry with. He is also VERY fond of using the bow, and his skill is unmatched in this regard, being nick-named the "Legendary sniper". Wears the trademark warpaint his unit is known for.

(Visual help: http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20110331232259/warhammer40k/images/0/02/Great_Wolf_Logan_Grimnar.jpg)

Personality: Despite his utterly terrifying appearance, utterly scary combat record, and his wolf-like voice, Lorgar is one of the most kind men serving in the legion. He will not tolerate, under any circumstances, civilian causalities and is fondly known as the "papa-wolf" among his men for his ferocious care for civilians. This kindness does to extend to his enemies however, and will gleefully obliterate any soldier that get's in his way. He also HATES politicians, whatever they may be (stormcloak and imperial), seeing them as viewing soldiers expendable. He is known to have immense physical resistance, during the battle of Fort Snowhawk during the civil war, he lay prone for 3 hours without moving in sub-zero temperature's while covering his comrades retreat with a bow.

Background/History: Lorgar has served in the imperial legion most of his life, joining up when he was merely fifteen. He fought in most of the major battles of the great war, even fighting alongside Titus Mede II in the final stages of the famous battle of red ring. He saw immense combat during the Skyrim civil war. His unit was used mostly for recon and ambushes, specifically in the Falkreath and Windhelm holds. However the true carnage he witnessed was the turning point of the war, The siege of Whiterun. Which resulted in massive casualties for the legion, a overwhelming stormcloak victory, and he lost over half his men, which he hasn't forgiven himself since. Too add insult, he also witnessed the pillage of Whiterun, in-which the stormcloak army brutalized the population. They did "things" to the woman, regardless if they were military or civilian, which causes a burning rage to seep threw Lorgar when he see's stormcloak soldiers. His hatred for the stormcloak army only grew as the war dragged on. Even after half of the remaining legion being exterminated in the siege of Solitude, he wont stop fighting.

Motives: His motives for fighting against all odds, is for the empire that he loves, and to protect as many innocents as he can

Skills: Two Handed, Archery, Heavy armor, light armor.

Name: Baldur Red-Snow

Gender: Male

Age: 37

Race: Nord

Faction: Stormcloaks Neugrad Garrison

Rank: Captain

Appearance: Brown long hair, green eyes, no scars. Blue war paint on half of his face. Braided beard. 6 feet three inches tall, good muscle build.


Equipment (Weapons, armor, etc) : Skyforge Steel Axe, Skyforge Steel Shield of fire resistance. Standard Stormcloak Captain light armor. Does not wear the bear helmet.

Personality: Calm and cool headed. Often likes to joke and taunt. Sometimes he will make up songs either before battle to get his men excited, or at inns or while relaxing. Sometimes he'll make fun of the origin of his enemies in dialogue. This is because his mother was a Dibella Priestess and he is self conscious about his own origins. Some of his jokes tend to be of a racist nature. He is not a racist, but he is distrusting of elves, xenophobic if you will, and is considered by them to be offensive. He hates the Legion deeply, but does not let it show, usually laughing instead of displaying his anger when they are involved.

Background/History: His father Ulrin Red-Snow was a Legionnaire, his mother Ysana Home-Wrecker is a Dibella priestess…yea. And pa was her....student, so to speak in one of their lessons. Ysana did not want to leave for the life of a wife, so we left her and moved to Bruma. His father stayed in the Legion, and he joined the Stormcloaks, feeling betrayed by the Legion, and not understanding his father’s explanation of why he stays loyal, especially since his father taught him about Talos and said he would rather die than forsake Talos. His father says loyalty to the Legion is loyalty to Talos. He made the mistake of letting this be known, so he didn’t get the chance to fight often with the Stormcloaks. Not until he proved himself by agreeing to infiltrate an Imperial fort and kill their Captain. Little did he know the Captain was his father. His Stormcloak Captain knew.

He dressed up as a legion recruit and said he had urgent news for the Captain of the fort. His father, wearing his full legion heavy armor with his helmet spotted him immediately and signaled with his hands to come in the fort, not wanting to give away who he was with his voice. When they were alone in the fort tower, his father removed his helmet and let him know who he was, and Baldur, while taken aback did not hesitate to strike at him. Most of his attacks were brushed off easily, his father's armor being made of Skyforge steel, as was his axe and shield. Baldur was using standard recruit gear, and the sword was one recovered from a skirmish his squad was in, and was battle damaged. His father taunted him during the fight, calling him names, making jokes, trying to get him angry and screw up. The last thing his father said to him was it was fitting that he be a traitor since he was the son of a [censored].

That angered Baldur and almost led to his downfall. His father sidestepped his charge and in one movement swiped at his son's back. Baldur pivoted to block the blow, and the skyforge axe shattered his battle damaged sword, and sliced across his sword arm. Baldur, desperate and angered by the fresh wound and the sting of blood in his eye that splattered in his face from it tackled him and beat him to death with the pommel of the sword. He dressed up in his father's outfit, took his axe and shield, and used a rope and a great sword his father had in his office to scale down the fort walls from his father's window, by sticking the sword through his desk, and using the desk as an anchor for the base of the rope, and tying the rope to the sword's hilt.. There were many Imperial patrols nearby, so the outfit came in handy.

He was made Captain for assisting Ulfric in his escape at Helgen. He was about to be roasted alive by Alduin while being attacked by legionaries and he pushed Ulfric out the way and used two dead legion soldiers for cover. Ulfric had to pull their seared flesh off of him to get him free. For this reason, his nickname is “The Unkindled”. His weapon of choice is his family skyforge steel war axe and a skyforge steel shield of fire resistance. They are the weapons that he took from his father. Ulfric had his court wizard enchant the shield as a reward. His combat prowess was decent, but he did not feel it was significant enough to be captain. He is brave and loyal to the cause, and beat his own father in combat. Ulfric thinks this is good enough. Baldur will have a lot to live up to, as people expect him to be as good a leader and fighter as his father. Baldur never expected the position of leader to be thrust upon him so soon, but it has, and he will lead to the best of his ability, mirroring his father's teachings, whether his ghost likes it or not. He looks forward to killing more Imperial Legionnaries.

Motives: He deeply hates the Legion for forsaking Talos and blames them for what happened between him and his father, so he wishes to kill as many of them as he can with a smile on his face. Also wants to prove himself in battle. While a Captain, he is not a war veteran unlike his men. So proving he is worthy to his men is important to him. Because of this, he will at times leave his fort to participate in battles personally.

Skills: Block, One handed, light armor, heavy armor, and two handed. Primarily uses one handed, but he was trained in two handed combat.

Name: Jorn Horn-Hand

Gender: Male

Age: 44

Race: Nord

Faction: Civilian

Rank: Sellsword

Appearance: Tall(about 6ft) and broad, with half-long blond hair and blue eyes. Thin beard and a scar over his left cheek as a result of his life as a warrior.

Equipment (Weapons, armor, etc) : Warhammer(steel), nord plate armor

Personality: Pragmatic and blunt. Reserved when he doesn't know who to trust.

Background/History: Son of a Legionnaire and a long-time sellsword before he came to Skyrim. Lived through the capture and retaking of the Imperial City. Has ran with a multitude of minor mercenary groups, but is now on his own.

Motives: Learned that he rather sell his skill for money than support either side in the war. Not buying into Ulfrics plan to free Skyrim, but refused to support the Empire as long as they kept up the WGC. Now, he will fight for money, for a time. His loyalty only reach as far as your wallet. Except for the Thalmor, he won't work for the Dominion.

Skills
two-handed, heavy armor, restoration

Spells: Heart Heal, Fast Healing, Healing Other

Name: Do'jhul
Gender: Male
Race: Khajiit - Sub-species: http://elderscrolls.wikia.com/wiki/Cathay-raht
Age: 33

Faction: Wolf Pack
Rank: Second Lieutenant

Appearance: Do'jhul stands at 7 feet and 4 inches tall. Due to him being a Cathay-raht, Do'jhul's musculature is heavy and compact. He has your typical feline facial features. His fur is thick and is light brown with black spots. The color of his eyes are http://www.freewebs.com/warriorleadericestar/photos/Icestar/Cat_eyes9-purple.jpg. Do'jhul also has a gold earring on each of his ears and has long scar that starts at the top of his left eye and goes all the way to his jaw line.

Equipment: Do'jhul wears the Wolf Pack's signature Imperial armor with a full wolf pelt, that adds protection and a intimidation factor. For defense, Do'jhul uses a custom sized steel shield. For offensive capabilities, Do'jhul's primary weapon is a Nordic steel/quicksilver longsword. For secondary weapons, Do'jhul also has a steel dagger and finally, he has his claws; which he can use with deadly efficiency.

Personality: Do'jhul for a big guy, is pretty soft spoken, though his voice has a deep guttural tone. Not many things surprise him all that much either. As a Legionnaire, Do'jhul feels a sense of responsibility to protect his fellow comrades-in-arms. He is very calculating and tactical, and never rushes into combat out of fury or bloodlust. He is very helpful to anybody who needs it and is thoughtful towards his fellow Legionnaires. At all times, he has a cool demeanor and relaxed gaze, which makes him seems he never takes anything too seriously.

History: Born in Riverhold, Elsweyr a couple of years before the Great War, Do'jhul didn't have to experience the horror of that time. Do'jhul was born to a fairly well off family in the nicer side of the city. During his most of his childhood, Do'jhul trained and practiced the Khajiiti martial art, Whispering Fang under the tutelage of his grandfather; who was a master in that particular Khajiit fighting style.

At the age of 20, Do'jhul decided to move to Cyrodiil and get away from the comfort of Elsweyr. He eventually settled down in Chorrol and at the age of 21, enlisted in the Imperial Legion. Over the years he was stationed in numerous outposts in the Empire's remaining provinces. He also took part in many skirmishes, but nothing too big. By the time he was 30, Do'jhul had been in the Legion for 9 years and counting.

In 4E 199, Jo'dhul was stationed in Skyrim; in the Hold of Falkreath. During that time, he fought in many skirmishes against the Stormcloaks. Caravan raids, fort battles, you name it.

In months of the Stormcloak's victory against the Empire, Do'jhul joined the counter offensive of the Legion's remaining forces, the Wolf Pack.

Motives: Even though Do'jhul is apart of the Legion, he doesn't necessarily hate the Stormcloaks. To him, he is just doing his duty.

Skills:
One-Handed
Block
Light Armor
Unarmed
Sneak (Due to him being a Khajiit)
Athletics
Acrobatics

Name: Teirmund Quiet-Forge

Gender: Male

Age: 45

Race: Nord

Faction: Civilians

Rank: Blacksmith, Enchanter

Apperance: 6'2, with five o'clock shadow, brown long hair single braid, brown eyes, medium muscle.

Equipment: Blacksmiths apron, ancient Nord sword

Personality: Kind hearted, friendly, and holds the values of honor and courage in high regards. Non-racist, stemming from being taught smithing by an Orc and being saved by a Dunmer.

Background: Taught smithing by an Orc woman who worked for their family while he was 12. Picked up enchanting in order to further his weapon making trade. Previously was a sailor based in Dawnstar, and spent 20 years on the ship the "Drowning Horker," where his life was saved by a crew mate of his, Aklon, a Dunmer sailor. He then sailed to Solsethiem, wear he got his ancient Nord sword when he was attacked by Draugr while he explored an ancient ruin to gain the favor of a Skaal blacksmith, who taught him the secrets of Carved Nordic Armor in return. He retired and moved to Whiterun, where he put his smithing skills to use. He moved to Falkreath to make more gold, which he sends back to his wife Anja, who moved to Dawnstar to get further away from the fighting.

Motives: Deciding to settle down for a time, e bought a store in Falkreth, to make money off of his enchanting and smithing skills. Knowing that the Legion and Stormcloaks were battling it out nearby, he decided it was a good place to sell weapons.

Skills: One-handed, Block, Heavy Armor, Smithing, Enchanting

Name: Witch-king

Gender: Male

Age: Unknown (before recorded history)

Race: Nord (Nede)

Faction: Stormcloak Fort Amol Garrison

Rank: Lieutenant

Appearance: Long black hair, grey eyes, medium thick beard, scar on the right cheek, tall and heavy built.

Equipment (Weapons, armor, etc) : Steel plate gauntlets and boots and a thick timeworn black hooded robe and a stalhrim sword with frost enchantment.

Personality: Likes magical power. Shows little to no emotions and speaks concisely. Has a cold calculating mind and can be very patient. But can also be quick to anger if asked too much about his past. Hates all elves except orcs and will nearly always refuse to talk to them if he doesn't kill them on sight.

Background/History: Born in the northern parts of Skyrim in an era long forgotten. His family and friends got slaughtered by elves and thus turned to magic and dark arts to take vengeance on elven-kind. It was also during this time he forsaked his old name and started to call himself the Witch-king. With this magical power he killed all mer he came upon, trapping their souls and consuming them through dark magic to prolong his own life. After killing mer for a few hundreds of years, he grew tired of the world used his magic to put himself in a dreamless sleep. He awoke after the oblivion crisis and now tries to find a new path in life but is still haunted by memories of the dead and his hatred for elves. But the long sleep has also taken its toll as he has lost most of his power and is in a weakened state and now seek to regain his former might.

Motives: As he hates elves, he especially hates the Dominion. He thinks the Empire is too incompetent and too slow to attack the Dominion. So he supports the Stormcloaks for their stance on fighting the Dominion now and to not let them recuperate. Also have a slight addiction to magical power and is not afraid of doing horrible things to reach this power.

Skills: Master in conjuration, adept with destruction and illusion. Also decent with heavy armor and one-handed weapons.

Name: Boldir Iron-Brow

Gender: Male

Age: 41

Race: Nord

Faction: Stormcloaks Neugrad Garrison

Rank: Corporal

Appearance: Roughly 6'4, has shoulder length black hair and a thick mid-length beard. Has blue eyes and no war paint. Built well and very heavily muscled. He also has a scar along his left cheek, the result of an arrow barwly missing him.

Equipment (Weapons, armor, etc) : Weilds a Carved-Nordic Battle Axe and carries a standard iron war axe and shield on his back for indoors. He wears typical Stormcloak armor with his own custom full-faced Iron Helm. Also wears iron boots, pauldrons, and gauntlets.

Personality: Boldir is a very reserved Nord. He rarely speaks to people who aren't his comrades. To most civilians, he appears to be a bit odd. Indeed, many believe that he is not right in the head. The truth is, that he has little in his life outside of his Stormcloak brethren, and so, the only times he is happy are the times he spends with them, even in battle. He's not really a source of jokes and merriment, but he can play the flute, and so he does occasionally play some tunes for his Stormcloak brothers and sisters, who, unlike most people, welcome him as a loved brother. Boldir isn't generally racist, and he looks at people based on their beliefs and affiliations rather than their race. He would trust a Stormcloak Elf over a neutral Nord any day. He has a secret fear of the undead, which he finds completly unnatural, but that doesn't stop him from fighting them if called to. He doesn't mind magic as long as it is only destruction, restoration, or alteration. He hates those who rely on undead, Daedra, or trickery to win battles.

Background/History: Boldir's father, Ymir, was a Nord who served as a Captain in the Imperial Army. He never got to know his mother, Moira, as she disappeared when he was only two. He likes to believe that her reasons for leaving were justified. Anyway, he was born in Shor's Stone. His father raised him as a single parent until he was called to action to fight in the Great War. He never returned. Boldir's uncle, Filnjar raised him in his father's stead. Young Boldir knew very little of the events related to the Great War, and Filnjar did little to assist in this area. In fact, other than put a roof over his head, Filnjar did very little for Boldir (although watching Filnjar did teach Boldir how to smith). As years passed, Boldir's memory of his father grew faint. And eventually, all that he really rembered was his father's appearance, and his position in the Legion. There were no heirlooms to remember him by, and no known will was ever found. Filnjar legally owned most of their assets anyway.

When Boldir was 18, he joined the Legion. He wanted to believe it was so that he could be like his father, or so that he could help fight tyranny, but in truth, he was bored out of his mind in Shor's Stone. During training, he learned to fight with a sword and shield, but he rarely saw combat outside of occasionally being called upon from his garrison at Riften to fight bandits. He was only in the Legion for several months when a fellow Legionare spotted him openly praying to Talos and quickly stopped him. You see, Boldir had never actually learned of the terms of the White Gold Concordat, and his father had instilled in him the belief in Talos. When he learned of the Legion's cowardice, and the fact that his father had died for nothing, Boldir left the Legion and headed north, to Eastmarch, where he had heard the Legion weren't as popular. There he joined a political faction of like-minded individuals known as the Stormcloaks. Ulfric, their (recently freed) leader, was accepting of the open worship of Talos, and also felt that accepting the Concordat's terms was a cowardly and even blasphemous thing to do. Boldir never spoke to Ulfric directly, but he took in everything that he said in his speeches.

During his time among the Stormcloaks, he made quite a few friends. One, a Nord named Beirlan would end up becoming his best friend. Beirlan fought with a battle axe, "the choice weapon of Ysgramor" he'd call it. The two would remain close as kin. It was Beirlan who taught Boldir how to play the flute. Life in the Stormcloaks was good for Boldir. He had friends and he had a cause. Eventually, conflicts would emerge between the Stormcloaks and Imperials. He and Beirlan were both part of a company of 20. That company was sent to the Eastmarch/Whiterun border to ambush an Imperial caravan. It was found camped out around a broken carriage and so the mission was accomplished easily enough with only two soldiers wounded. The Captain had only just opened his mouth to say that it was too easy when a volley of arrows came from a nearby ledge, killing 11 Stormcloaks, including Beirlan as well as the Captain. Boldir was fortunate enough to be missed. A robed High Elf and six armored archers emerged. Before any of the Cloaks could move, 6 more were shot, including the wounded. Boldir and the remaining 2 charged the Elves, the leader just smiled and used a recall spell, vanishing on the spot. The remaining 6 barely had time to move before the Cloaks were on them. None were spared. This was Boldir's first encounter with the Thalmor. Boldir took up Beirlan's fighting-style, in memory of his fallen friend. He found it better suited to him anyway, and his skill with a battle axe progressed quickly.

When Ulfric was captured, and the executions in Helgen commenced, Boldir was there beside them. By this point, he hated the Legion almost as much as the Thalmor, and he was honored to die alongside Ulfric. When Alduin intervened, Boldir was the first to break loose, and quickly unbound Ulfric along with two other prisoners before a meteor knocked him to the ground. When he got up, he saw his kinsmen slam the door to a tower shut. He ran for the nearest Imperial corpse and took his sword. In the confusion, he managed to reach the main gate, which was locked, but that wasn't his issue. He was looking for Ulfric. As he searched desperately, the Dragon continued to wreck havoc on soldiers from both sides. It took the Dragon send a ball of flame straight for Ulfric for Boldir to spot him. Fortunately, a fellow Cloak pushed Ulfric out of the way and used dead Legionairs as shields from the flames. Ulfric blasted open the main gate and along with the few remaining Stormcloaks. A band of 4 Imperial archers pursued. Boldir quickly set upon them, killing two immediately befor a third just missed a killing shot by sending an arrow just past his cheek, brushing it and cutting him open (this would lead to him forging a full-face helmet in the future). Boldir killed the remaining two and quickly followed the remaining Stormcloaks.

During the war, Boldir would participate in the Battles of Whiterun, Markarth, and Solitude. It was during the battle of Whiterun that he got the name Iron-Brow; by headbutting an Imperial Commander so hard that he fell on his own sword, dying instantly. He would also travel to Korvanjuund, where he had the third-highest undead kill count, after Galmar, and someone Galmar called Unblooded. During several conflicts, he would be assigned to follow Captain Baldur Red-Snow, whom he recognized as the hero in Helgen. Serving under Baldur lead him to respect the man deeply, and he would gladly lay down his life not only for his cause, but for the Captain himself, who he sees as a good friend and counselor.

Motives: Boldir cares little for his own personal gain, but the idea of people not being allowed to worship the greatest of their gods angers him. In fact, lots of the things the Empire have done angers him. The fact that he grew up without his father thanks to his service (which Boldir sees as useless) motivated Boldir to hate the Legion even more. He also serves out of strict loyalty to Baldur, whom he sees as the ideal leader.
Skills: Two-Handed, Block, Blacksmithing, One-Handed, Light Armor, Heavy Armor

Name: Rebec Red-Eye

Gender: Female

Age: 32

Race: Nord

Faction: Stormcloak

Rank: Auxiliary (ship captain, runner/ supply)

Appearance: Brown hair, sturdy build, ruddy skin, blue eyes

Equipment (Weapons, armor, etc) : War axe. In battle, will carry a pair of them and will dual wield or use one as a throwing axe. Wears dirty leathers and greatcloak except when posted to a fort, where she wears a dirty Stormcloak uniform.

Personality: mostly cheerful when not far from port, rough-shod, opportunistic, skeptical of authority

Background/History: When people ask, Rebec Red-Eye says she's named for the famed Boat-Thane of Ysgramor, and for the fact that she can do night runs on the treacherous Dawnstar to Windhelm route. More truthfully, it's because most of her advlt life has been a string of hangovers. Fortunately, she's a happy sort of drunk. Unfortunately, on her first captaincy she ran the Howling Harpy aground and killed some of its crew. After that she sobered up a bit, or at least learned to fake it better. The Howling Harpy II has seen better days but is still seaworthy.

Her family have always been independent traders, but after the East Empire Company subcontracts started getting thin, Rebec decided it was time to grow some patriotism. She volunteered for the Stormcloaks as a runner and sometime militia regular if big battles were afoot. What the 'Cloaks don't know is that she kept up her smuggling contracts, as well, and even took one or two for the imperials if the pay was good. Since Ulfric's victory, the money has been on the straight and narrow, but she'll go where the wind blows and the septims flow.

Rebec has a hearth-husband Toki Pot-Banger, who works as a traveling tinker for farmsteads between Rorikstead and the eastern Reach. She hasn't seen him for two years, however, and figures he's hag food by now. It's not what you could call true love.

The idea of elves telling Nords what to do rankles a bit, but that's as far as her rebel spirit goes. At this point, she just wants the war over. The land is too poor to pay black market prices much longer, and regular trade will mean more money for everyone. To see Ulfric achieve his peace, she's willing to get land legs again.

Motives: money, drink, some loyalty to her crew

Skills: one-handed, speech

Name: Xerina The Flawless

Gender: Female

Age: 28

Race: Nord

Faction: Stormcloak

Rank: Stormcloak spy (If you can be that)

Apperance: Brown hair with a young clear face with war paint. Thin weight and very quick.

Equipment: Stormcloak light armor and one elven sword on the right hand and a dagger in the left hand. Also a bow

Personality: A little bit stubborn but very kind hearted if not a bit mysterious

Xerina was hired by Ulfric himself. He liked her mysterious and sneaky side and desided to put her up as a spy for the stormcloaks. After the war was finished she remained in coma for a couple of months before coming back once again. She killed many imperials during the war and her reasons were pretty good. The imperials killed her family and she wanted revenge. Xerina want's to help the people of Skyrim to get back on their feet. The thalmor had a lot of influence in her childhood..