Full Character History


Gwenneth was born in a house in the countryside of Skyrim, just East of Lake Ilinalta.
During birth, her mother, Freya Valkyrjar, had a vision, an omen of Gwenneths future: "I foresee you will shroud Skyrim in happiness, though the road may be long. Once your naming ceremony will be held, your name shall be Gwenneth". And so it happened.

Gwenneth's place of birth

Gwenneths mother Freya was exceptionally beautifull for a Nord woman, but no less brave then the bearded ones. Though she liked to collect jewellery and would wear the most stunning robes at times, one task she would take upon her was to collect the bodies of fallen brave Nords from battlefields and skirmish sites, and bring their bodies to the North for apropriate burial at sea, often resulting in her being away from home for many days on end, and earning her the title of Valkyrjar. She was excellent at horse riding and a skilled warrior, and often she would collect bodies before the battle was over.

Freya Valkyrjar

Gwenneths Father, a rugged Nord called Manheim Wood-Cutter, would spend most of his time, as his title suggests, cutting trees in the woods, but also was a skilled carpenter. However, sometimes he would also take hireling assignments, to be able to afford his wife's at times lavish lifestyle. At home he could be a calm, almost introvert man, but on the battlefield he would fell man and beast alike trees. He did however avoid risks as much as possible, ensuring his always safe return to his family, which ment everything for him. He was the best father a Nord child could wish for.

Manheim Wood-Cutter doing what he does best

Gwenneth was Freya and Manheims first child, but just in a few years Gwenneth would be accompanied by two brothers, Storn and Hulgarth, and a sister, Larthjar.
Not uncommon for Nords, Gwenneth's fighting skills were developed from a very young age one, her first toy being a wooden axe, and she would accompany either of her parents on hunting trips from the age of five onwards, successfully killing rabbits, and larger prey as the years went by.

When Gwenneth was 7 years old, her mother Freya died while giving birth to her fifth child, Quynthen.
An event Gwenneth was daily reminded of because her father handed her one of her mothers most priced possessions at the funeral ceremony, a supposedly priceless necklace called 'Brinsingamen'. According to her father, Freya paid a price to obtain it that is so great, it should never be mentioned. Gwenneth wore the necklace day and night wrapped in leather to protect it from damaging during her daily hunt and fighting practices.

Very uncommon, Gwenneth already earned a title at 11 years old. During a short hunting trip with her father, she managed to catch up with a boar, an achievement by itself for an 11 year old. She managed to kill the boar with one swoop of her axe into the boars belly. At least, she thought she killed it, but as she had put away her axe and approached the boar to claim her price, it suddenly vividly snapped at her. In a reflex she pulled the boars intestines from its gaping belly wound, wrapped them around the boars neck and proceeded to choke the boar to death with them. It was then she earned the title of 'Gut-Ripper'.

Years passed by, as Gwenneth continued to improve her hunting and fighting skills relentlessly, untill at the age of 15 the most unfortunate event of her life took place...

Fire and Death

Gwenneth and her father Manheim had just been on an uneventful hunting trip, and were making their way back to home through the winter snow. "Wait"; her father said, as he came to a stop and kneeled while peering ahead to get a better view under the branches of the trees they were surrounded by.

Suddenly from inbetween the trees ahead of them, Gwenneth's youngest brother Quynthen ran up to them. Quynthen was only 8 years old at the time, so it was unusual for him to be this far from the house on his own, something was very wrong...
"Daddy, daddy, imps! They've set the house on fire!""; he yelled, as he struggled towards Gwenneth and her father. "Where are the others?!"; Gwenneths father replied, as he already grabbed the axe from his side. "Still in the house! They couldn't fit through the window!"; was Quynthens daunting reply.

Manheim yelled; "Stay with Quynthen!", as he ran off towards the house. Gwenneth grabbed Quynthen by the hand, pulling him forward as she tried and failed to keep up with her dad's ferocious pace, soon losing sight of him. Then she saw the red gloom up ahead, lighting the lower half of a large column of smoke she hadn't noticed before, as it was already getting dark.

As she reached the house, she saw her father making quick work of the imps still surrounding the house.
The house was ablaze, yet she watched her father open the front door, and enter while flames whipped out the door opening. As soon as Manheim had entered, all she could see inside was fire. All Gwenneth could do was fall to her knees, cling to Quynthen and watch the tragedy unfold before her eyes...

After what seemed an eternity, she saw a dark shape appear in the door opening. Her father staggered out of the house, his dead sons jammed under his arms, and dragging along the corpse of his daughter with his hand. Manheim was engulfed in flames, and Gwenneth watched in horror as he dropped the bodies of her brothers and sister in the snow, stumbled forward and gazed into Gwenneths eyes, while the flames licked his face. Then he slightly raised his arms and tumbled over face down in the snow. Gwenneth quickly ran up and franticly started scooping snow onto her still burning father untill the flames extinguished.

Manheim was a strong man, for he lived for three more days before finally drowning in the fluids building up in his lungs. And for those three days, Gwenneth never let go of his burnt, skinless hands.

Manheim Wood-Cutter


After Manheim's, Storn's, Larthjar's and Hulgarth's sea burial, Gwenneth and Quynthen lived with their Grandfather, Njord Fridleif.
Njord lived in a small wood cabin in Riverwood, which he shared with another elderly Nord called Mendel.
The four of them in the small cabin caused some pretty cramped conditions, So both Gwenneth and Quynthen spent a lot of time outside.
Njord was a calm, aging man, and he would often opt for diplomacy instead of fighting. During the long winter evenings he could tell the most fantastic tales, of dragons and falmers, much to the dismay of Mendel, who seemed to have heard those stories a thousand times before.

At the age of 16, Gwenneth got her first hireling job, escorting an appearantly important cartload of whatever it was carrying to Whiterun. Though the trip was uneventful, she got paid well, and was proud to be able contribute more to their cramped household, other then bringing in the fruits of her hunting trips.

Njord Fridleif

Only a year later, Njord died in his sleep from old age. Gwenneth and Quynthen continued to live with Mendel, but things weren't going very smooth. After Njords death, Mendel took a lot more interest in Gwenneth, and one night after Mendel got home drunk from the local tavern, he forcefully grabbed Gwenneth and tried to pull her into his bed.

Gwenneth grabbed a candleholder and forcefully brought it down on Mendels head. Mendel fell to the ground unconscious, blood gushing from a large open wound on his head. Gwenneth looked at the scene for a moment, then shoved him under the bed. She quickly put on her hide armor, packed some food in a cloth, scraped together all the gold coins she could find and grabbed her axe.
Then she woke up Quynthen; "Quynthen...Quynthen! Get up, we have to go, NOW!" She quickly dressed him for the cold, then pulled him outside on the dark and scarcely lit street, heading South.

After walking most of the night, at times carrying her brother in her arms, she was well South of Riverwood. As the morning sun rose, she could see a massive silhouette appear at the Southern sky...; Jerall Mountains.
That's where she would go, thats where she would cross the border and leave behind all these years of fire and death.

For a moment she felt for her mothers necklace around her neck, firmed her grab of Quynthens hand, and then continued South through the thickening snow...

The Jerall Mountains

Gwenneth had never ventured through the Jerall mountains before, and perhaps that was a good thing, because if she had, she would have been terrified to travel across them with a 10 year old holding her hand. Eventhough Nords are hardened by the cold conditions, no deep valleys cut through the Jerall mountains, and on its high peaks winds scourged the rocks with their snowy whips.  Gwenneth and Quynthen pushed on Southwards relentlessly, though at times storm force winds forced them to take shelter, until Gwenneth was able to see where they were heading again.

Jerall Mountains

They were two days in, when they ran out of food. For each ridge they climbed there seemed to be a new ridge behind it. Though Quynthen tried his best, and never complained, his legs were giving way more often by the hour, and Gwenneth had to carry him for more then half the time now.

Another day passed, and they just passed yet another ridge, as they got attacked by a timberwolf, or, got attacked by dinner as Gwenneth would say it. With one swoop she severed the wolves spine in the middle of its back, then told Quynneth to finish it off, as he did eagerly did. They quickly ate some fresh meat before it froze, and Gwenneth wrapped some good chunks in the rag she saved, skinned the wolf completely and wrapped the still warm skin around her brothers shoulders.


It seemed that fortune smiled at them from that moment on, because the next ridge they climbed with renewed energy was finally the last one, and they gazed far into Cyrodiil's valleys, as even the sky started to clear. They started to descend, carefully ofcourse. This wasn't the time to get rash and fall to their deaths.
At dawn they were well past the treeline, ate some more meat and had a good nights sleep.
The next day they left the snow behind them, and Gwenneth was even able to make a fire, and roast some meat for dinner. The day after that they stumbled across a path, and followed it to the city where they would spend the next seven years of their lives...


As soon as Gwenneth saw Bruma in the distance, she knew that this was the place where they had to settle. The rugged centuries old walls would keep them safe and there was plenty of forest around.
The gold she had taken would only last them a week or two, if the inn was cheap enough. However, she had something on her worth hundreds of times the gold she had on her... Gwenneth felt for her necklace, the only thing she had left that remembered her of her family.

They slept at an inn for a few days, while during the daytime Gwenneth visited all shops to see where she would get the best worth for her Brinsingamen necklace. Unfortunately the shopkeeper offering the most was only able to pay half of the gold outfront. She would have to wait for the other half until he resold the necklace. Well, Gwenneth wasn't going to fall for that, so she went for the second best offer.
Priceless doesn't exist for a shopkeeper, but Gwenneth got several thousands of gold for the necklace, and they bought a house within the walls of Bruma, furnished it and had plenty of gold left to last them a month or two. They were safe.


It was a good thing they had some gold left, because jobs were hard to find in Bruma. With no one knowing her, people were hesitant to give her hireling jobs, and the city was suffering from bad economy, with many houses being in a state of disrepair. Which gave Gwenneth an idea.

She had watched her father work in the woods and at the sawmill often enough. For two months she went out logging, and with no sawmill near split the logs with her axe. After weeks their small backgarden was filled to the brim with logs and planks. Gwenneth bought some tools, and started to offer her services for house repairs. Though things started off slow at first, soon her bussiness took off, and within 3 months she was not only able to buy enough food to maintain themselves, she could also afford a trainer for the much needed fighter training for Quynthen, as she had barely time left to teach him herself, filling most of her time working and hunting. Through her work she got acquainted with many of Bruma's residents, and finally she got offers for a few hireling jobs as well.

Many years passed as Quynthen trained, and Gwenneth worked. Though Gwenneth never made any real friends in Bruma, her woodworking as well as her fighting skills increased with the years and she became an appreciated member of the community.

When Quynthen was 17 years old, Gwenneth was 24 at the time, he got his first hireling job. A transport escort, just like Gwenneths first hireling job. But Quynthens was to take him all the way to Hegathe, on the West coast of Hammerfell, he would surely be gone for many weeks. As Quynthen said goodbye, Gwenneth hugged him firmly, and could barely let go, as if she might never see him again.


Quynthen never returned from his escort job. Instead Gwenneth got a letter;"Many hireling jobs here, will not be back for a while. Love, Quynthen." For the following year, Gwenneth got many letters of Quynthen, then the letters stopped. The last thing she ever heard of Quynthen was when a year later a traveling Nord knocked on her door. He told Gwenneth how Quynthen had earned a title, that of 'Swift-Axe'. And apearantly he was now even commanding a band of eight hirelings, all Nords. Imagine that, 19 years old and already a commander. Though happy of hearing news, Gwenneth was also saddened. She knew the chances of him returning were none, he was living the true Nord warrior life now...

It was two months later, and Gwenneth was out hunting. She had spotted a large buck, and had been following it well over an hour, while staying down wind. Finally she managed to get close enough, and she charged out of the undergrowth, axe drawn. The buck startled, turned around and ran straight into a large shrub, wildly kicking to free itself from the branches. Gwenneth was quick to kill it.

Just as she was trying to pull the buck from the shrubs, she heard horses hoofs behind her. Three horseriders approached, all of them clearly imperials, with the center one particularly well dressed in a shiny armor, adorned with expensive fur linings. "What is this, Nord!"; the fancy one said, "Not only do you trespass on my private hunting grounds, you slay my game as well?! Consider yourself to be under arrest!"
Three longswords pointed at Gwenneths throat. She had nowhere to run, and no chance to fight. A few hours later she was in prison.

After spending a week in her dark cell, only to see a guard a few times to have some crusts of bread being tossed at her, she heard several guards approaching, and her prison door was opened. Three guards stood in the door opening. "Our Imperial Lord Nagonius Alminius has decided in all his wisdom for you to be released from prison. You are hereby expelled from Bruma, your house will be confiscated. You will be escorted to your former house in order for you to be able to collect some belongings, then out of the gate. You are not to return here, ever!".

Nagonius Alminius

Gwenneth cursed out loud as she dragged the two heavy large sacks with her tools and personal belongings out of the East gate. "So this is Imperial justice?!? A house for a deer? A livelyhood for some meat? Curse you, curse you all !"; she snarled as the guards left her to be on her way. Once again Gwenneth had lost a home, once again she was trodding through the snow to an uncertain future...

County Cheydinhal

Gwenneth had dragged her belongings well East of Bruma, past Gnoll Mountain, until she arrived at Lake Arrius, North of Cheydinhal. To her North the Jerall mountains rose up, and she dragged her bags North to the base of the mountains, hiding them in a rocky outcrop.
She didn't plan on settling in yet another city or town again. This time she would make her home in the wilds, and rely on herself only. As she wandered around she saw a good spot for what eventually be her new home. A large half moon shaped rock formation, at the base of Jerall mountains, not visible from the paths well below and above.

She had spotted a bandit camp at Gnoll mountain, which she circled earlier because she was dragging all her belongings with her at the time. The next morning she visited it with drawn axe, taking the two bandits by surprise. She took the tents, supplies and everything she could find of use, and used it to set up her camp at her new found secluded spot.
Over the next months she spent all her waking time cutting trees, and dragging the logs one by one, while taking care not to be seen traveling to her campsite. Slowly but steadily her wooden cabin was taking shape, and before winter set in it was ready. Gwenneth had a new home.

Gwenneth's wooden cabin in County Cheydinhal

Lake Arrius was a good source of fresh water, and Gwenneth's hunting skills were so refined by now, that she had little trouble finding food. Next to that she would raid bandit camps from time to time, providing some extra food and some gold, that she would use to buy supplies in Cheydinhal during the cold winters, when hunting revenue would be low. She also had discovered an abandoned mine North of her home, and within months she had stripped it bare from anything usable.
For the next two years, she continued to live in seclusion, and her fighting and hunting skills, as well as her endurance grew by the constant hunting, raiding and at times harsh weather conditions. Then misfortune struck.

Gwenneth had been scavenging for food, mushrooms, berries, anything she could get her hands on, but she had found little, and she was straining to see as the sun was already setting. Then suddenly something crashed through the undergrowth behind her, and as she turned around a huge black bear jumped her and threw her on her back, its enormous weight knocking the wind out of her.
Gwenneth tried to reach for her axe, but to no avail, as she felt one of the bears massive claws enter her side between her ribs, and another claw on the side of her face. She could taste the forest ground in her mouth as the claw ripped through her cheek, and she struggled to take a breath with the bears weight on her chest.

Black Bear


Then suddenly Gwenneth heard a dull thud and the bear released its grasp, backed up, and raised itself. As Gwenneth finally took a breath again and looked the beast in its eyes, she heard another thud, then noticed an arrow had entered the bears head from the side. Then another arrow struck its head, and the bear collapsed. Gwenneth gurgled from the blood that started to run into her throat, as she tried to look into the direction the arrows had come from, then passed out.

The first time Gwenneth regained consciousness for just a few seconds, all she saw were two large black eyes, inches from her face. The next time she saw nothing, but smelled a strong herbs odor. Many times she woke up, just to pass out again, only seeing small bits of her surroundings; her blanket, wooden beams, a thatched roof, the lantern she got from the abandoned mine, a Bosmer....

...two large black eyes, inches from her face.

A Bosmer!?! The shock sent a stream of adrenalin in her blood, and this time she stayed conscious.
Slowly and painfully Gwenneth turned her head, and there she was, a female Bosmer, sitting in a chair just across the room, actually smiling at her. Then Gwenneth noticed she was in her own house. "Who are you?"; Gwenneth tried to say, but no sound left her mouth. The Bosmer stood up and walked towards Gwenneth. "It's okay, try to get some rest, we'll talk later", the Bosmer said in a soothing tone of voice, as she adjusted the cloth with medicinal herbs on Gwenneth's cheek. Gwenneth closed her eyes.

A Bosmer & seven Orcs

As Gwenneth later learned, the female Bosmer was named Leanawen, and had been stalking Gwenneth for a week without her ever noticing. Leanawen had been intrigued by this lone Nord woman living in the wilds, seemingly in harmony with her surroundings. Then when she witnessed Gwenneth getting attacked by the bear, she had chosen to save her life, had dragged Gwenneth to her own house, and made use of her knowledge of nature to heal her.


Gwenneth and Leanawen became close friends, and they lived together in the wooden cabin for years, hunting together, fighting together, and learning from each other. Leanawen would always use a bow, and the stealth attacks she did with it were of the greatest interest for Gwenneth, and soon Gwenneth was able to do some decent shooting with a bow.
Leanawen also would occasionally use fire spells, which was at times confronting for Gwenneth, seeing how most of her family had died from fire, but also intriguing. Could Gwenneth one day harness power over the element that had caused her and her family so much misery? It took months of training, and the fireball Gwenneth could produce was barely enough to kill a rabbit with, yet it provided Gwenneth with a strange sort of comfort, being able to control that fireball hovering just over her hand.

Then one morning, Gwenneth got woken by Leanawen. "Gwenneth, I want you to have my bow"; Leanawen said, and that's when Gwenneth noticed the packed backpack. "You're leaving? But, but ...you'll need your bow...and, and..."; Gwenneth replied. Leanawen pointed at a large thigh bone sticking out of the backpack. "New one in the making, don't worry. The time we were destined to be together has passed, I must move on. You'll understand soon enough." Gwenneth nodded like she understood why, though she didn't. She was once alone again...

Gwenneth watched as Leanawen disappeared into the distance, then spent all day aimlessly wandering around the nearby forest, confused, crying, and eventually angry. She felt like punching the first person she would meet in the face, for no reason other then to get rid of the emotions she was experiencing inside. Then she noticed the Orc bandits. She had seen them before, when carefully exploring a cave she'd found near Lake Arrius. There were seven of them, so she had wisely backtracked out of the cave. Now they were walking along the forest path, a few of them holding torches as the sun was already setting.

Gwenneth watched as Leanawen disappeared into the distance,...

One of the Orcs was lagging behind the rest of the group, and Gwenneth hid in a bush and waited for the last one to pass her, then snuck up behind him in a manner that would have made Leanawen proud, and stealthily slit his throat with her carving knife. She quickly dragged him into the undergrowth next to the path, and routinely made his possessions change ownership.

Somewhat relieved she made way to her house in the darkness, the long way, in order to avoid the rest of the Orc group. But as she got close to her home, she saw the torch lights near her cabin. Under cover of the rocks she snuck closer, and six Orcs were watching the cabin, their backs turned to Gwenneth. Then she noticed the flames inside... "Not again!"; she thought. Her tools, the letters from her brother, Leanawen's bow... , all falling prey to the flames...
Gwenneth bit her lip in an attempt to make no sound, then when she saw the flames whip out of the door opening of her cabin, she had a vision.

A bluish ghostly figure walked out of her ablaze cabin, and it clamped 3 more ghostly figures under its arms, dropped them, fell over and disappeared into the ground.
Something that had been slumbering deep inside Gwenneth since the day she was born awoke. It made way to her throat, and left her mouth as a sound. It didn't sound anything like Gwenneth's own voice, it sounded like a dragon's roar...

A bluish ghostly figure ...

 As she roared, Gwenneth jumped the boulder she'd been hiding behind, and launched forward to the closest Orc. He never knew what hit him as Gwenneth decapitated him with one powerful swing of her axe.
The second Orc had only begun her attempt to turn around when Gwenneth's axe hit her full force in the side of her chest.
The third Orc had no chance to draw his weapon, as Gwenneth slashed his belly, literally spilling his guts.
The fourth Orc had drawn her mace by now, but it was no use to her as the arm holding the mace was no longer attached to her body, and Gwenneth quickly finished her of with a second axe swing at her hip.
The fifth Orc held up his warhammer in order to block Gwenneth's heaved Axe, but Gwenneth swung the axe behind her, then down alongside her leg, to hit him full between his legs.
The sixth Orc must have been the wisest, for he ran. Though to no avail, as it's hard to run with a thrown axe lodged in your neck.


The fifth Orc held up his warhammer ...

That night Gwenneth slept under the stars, and in her dreams, she had a ghostly vision of her mother speaking to her. "Gwenneth, you've earned your title when you were eleven years old, now the time has come to earn your name, and bring happiness to the Nords by relieving them of the impending doom that is upon them. Return to Skyrim." When Gwenneth woke the next morning, the first thing she did was turn her gaze Northwards as she righted herself. And with determination as never before she crossed the Jerall Mountains once again. Within a matter of days she reached the border of Skyrim...


FICHTER said...

Great back story, long read butvery descriptive. As I was reading this I actually could visualize everything that was happening.

Easily 10/10 =]

Nitor said...

Wow, this is awesome! Good work. It's inspiring me to do the same for my characters.

Arcturus said...

Excellent tale. I will share it around the fires up and down the White River. Perhaps one day we will run into each other. I spend most of my days at the Half-Moon Mill cutting and transporting wood for Falkreath to the south.