Spoiler
Name:Scarpaius Otavius (Skarpi for short)
Age:72
Race:Imperial
Gender:Male
Height:5’ 11’’
Birthsign:The Thief
Appearance:Scarpaius is an old man, but generally well fit for his age, taking time to work out daily and preform manual labor. Standing at roughly 5’ 11’’, he is a handsome man even in his old age, with high cheekbones and full lips, his looks wooed many women back in his day. http://cache.ohinternet.com/images/thumb/2/2d/Trollface_HD.png/618px-Trollface_HD.png now, and his shaggy head of hair is fringed with grey, but his eyes are still the color of pristine blue water, which seem to sparkle when he is telling a story. He enjoys portraying himself as a weak old man (which, in a way, he is), but it is only a fa?ade used to fool potential enemies, and a technique used to awe his audience.
Class (what would you describe your character as?):Ex-Sailor, Innkeeper and Bard
Skills and known spells (if any):Skarpi was once a brilliant swordsman and thief, talented with one handed weapons, stealth, lockpicking, and pickpocketing. While he has retained much of his knowledge and ability in his old age, his talent can be considered lack-luster at best. The two skills that he still uses to great effect are Alteration and Speechcraft. Skarpi used [and uses] alteration to create magical shields, fiddle with matter and the physical composition of materials, as well as further his own abilities. In combat, this is used in creative and unique ways, though more recently in his life, he has just been using it to help accomplish tasks, or for show-boating. His tongue and wit are sharp as steel, which is very useful when persuading a highway robber or a group of children listening to one of his stories.
Clothing / armor:Skarpi usually wears his old duster (http://hiltonstentcity.com/images-prod/filson-465-duster-lg.jpg), with common clothes underneath. He owns a simple pair of boiled leather boots, and he keeps an old suit of armor locked in his special chest, which hasn’t been put to use in several years. In addition, an innocent looking ring of coral resides on his right ring finger, though the sailor refuses to comment on its origin.
Weapons:Skarpi usually just keeps a simple dagger of steel on his person, as well as a small volcanic stone that has been enchanted to cast a weakish lightning spell, though it is unknown whether he discovered this trinket on his adventures or made it himself. In his special chest, he has a silver longsword, though it hasn’t been moved or used in several years.
Miscellaneous items:Skarpi has several books packed in what little luggage he has, as well as a few pairs of simple clothing. He also has a chest of lacquered redwood with him, that contains and old suit of armor, silver longsword, potions, and a few other odd trinkets from his adventuring days.
Personality:The old sailor is rather optimistic, cheerful, wise, and can be described as “a little loony”. On the outside, Skarpi seems rather open and happily willing to share his advice, wisdom, and tales of adventure, he is truly angry and world-weary from his persuer’s efforts to bump him off, but is far too stubborn and faithful to give up just yet.
Major flaw:Skarpi is old, thus hindering his combat abilities (ya know, cause he’s slower and such). Due to an old wound on his right leg, he has a slight limp.
Background:Skarpi was born in Bravil, and lived on the streets until he was about twelve years old until a friendly, wise Innkeeper paid for passage to Stormhold where he would procure an education at the Synod Enclave.
Skarpi took keen to the school of Alteration at the school, as well as your average subjects like arithmetic and lore. When he reached the age of 19, Scarpaius was weary of the Synod’s flawed system of education and greedy politics, and left the school behind in search for adventure, his ego brimming with arrogance. Leaving his friends and mentors in his wake, he got a job, raised enough money to procure some essential supplies, and ventured into the world in search of adventure.
His first attempt at an adventure, the plundering an ancient ruin will a small band of mercenaries, ended in utter disaster, to say the least, and opened the young man’s eyes as he narrowly escaped the vicious maw of Deadroth. He became far more cautious after that, and his ego slowly began to deflate.
A few years later, with a broadened knowledge of the world, he signed onto a crew of a cargo ship in Hammerfell, and worked as a sailor, moving goods from Skyrim to Morrowind and even to Elyswer. During these times, the crew encountered strange occurrences, and had a few brushes with the supernatural.
It wasn’t until Skarpi, now succumbing to the hands of becoming old, stole an artifact from a cult of Necromancers, in hope that its powers would help him retain his youth. The occultists discovered his heist, and nearly killed him, but he escaped. The mages of death hired and “created” minions to pursue Skarpi across the globe for many years.
During said time, Skarpi had an epiphany that almost crushed his spirit, caused by the deadly Necromancers that chased him. He gave up adventuring, and turned to being a traveling bard, poet, and inn keeper, still hailing that old man from Bravil as his hero. Skarpi kept moving around, growing old and more eccentric by the year, until he found the new hold of Valton. It is unknown if the old bard disposed of the artifact already, or if he still keeps, or if it even does anything. But one thing is for certain- those pesky necromancers are still after it, and the loony sailor who stole it.
Skarpi, Valton’s Inn, Midday The old sailor’s breath leaked from his body as he sighed, the noise containing a mixture of exhaustion, relief, and distant boredom. The exhaustion and relief was caused by the sheer physical activity that he just engaged in to unpack all of his luggage from the carriage, and comfortably unpack it in his room, followed by manually cleaning the inside of the tavern. Such menial tasks would seem easy, and even tedious to a young man, but Skarpi was anything but young. His old age had robbed him of his energy and strength long ago.
The boredom, however, was something else entirely. His most exciting adventure or challenge recently had been simple tasks such as unloading luggage and sweeping, or passively traveling across Skyrim’s landscape. He yearned for his sailing days, for the days when he ventured to a fro, searching for adventure, challenge, women. But he knew deep inside that he could never do that again. Not after last time.
With a grumble of protest, Skarpi shook away his dark distractions and focused on the task at hand- reopening the Inn for Jal during his absence. Jal Wolfsbane was an old friend to the weather sailor, for they had sailed and fought together on a few occasions, and was one of Skarpi’s only surviving acquaintances. Of course, he was surviving without an eye and with a disfiguring scar running down his face, but all considered, that wasn’t too bad in comparison to the fate of most mercenaries.
Skarpi had contacted Jal, who had just opened an Inn and settled down in Skyrim’s newest settlement named
Valton, and the two old men rekindled their past friendship, however shallow it once was, establishing a line of communication via couriers. When Jal fell dangerously ill due to his drining, however, and had to travel to Riften (to receive effective medical treatment, and recover in the company of some relatives and friends), he had asked Skarpi to run the Inn for him.
The weathered sailor immediately accepted, though his arrival to Valton was late. Now that he was in town, no one seemed to pay him much mind, but he knew several eyes were on him already, suspicious, curious, and what not. It mattered not, for the old sailor knew that the Inn, being the only establishment that sold drinks and rooms, would attract all of the hard-working Nords, travelers, and anyone else searching for strong mead and good company. What’s more, Skarpi loved to work in taverns. Since he gave up adventuring long ago, he had turned to running Inns, and being a traveling bard, telling the wild tales of his past, ancient folk tales, and playing his flute for those who wished to hear a tune.
Hobbling to the door, his motions mostly and subtlety fake to fool the townsfolk of how fit he actually was (which really wasn’t much, but more than most people expected for a man of his age), he forced it open, and hung a freshly made sign on the front of the Inn that read “The Valton Inn is now open for business!”. That would hopefully draw some business to the Inn.
“Hee-hee! Hoo-hoo!” cackled Skarpi with gleeful maliciousness “The Inn is open for business indeed!” he said, returning inside to rest his tired legs, his dark distractions persisting just outside the borders of his awareness.
» Thu May 03, 2012 12:15 pm 
