Character Name: Anyanka
Nickname: Anya
Race: Altmer
Class: thief
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 145 lbs.
Hair: dark red, long, small braid on the right side
Eyes: green
Skin: gold
Age: 33
Birth Date: fifth of Frostfall
Birth Sign: The Tower
Personality: In general, Anya is very tense and quiet around others. She is mostly out for herself and is inclined to believe everyone else is too. She is not prone to call attention to herself and doesn’t much like it when anyone else does it because she prefers the freedom of anonymity. Nord beliefs of fighting to the death frustrate her; though she’ll often chase down anyone who fights her and tries to run, she has no qualms with fleeing if she’s in danger of death. Survival is her overall goal. She’ll do nearly anything, including submitting to authority or following the commands of Daedra, if it means she’ll live. Her only tattoos are the dark, thick lines around her eyes, distinguishing marks she got in her youth and later regretted. The lines of claw marks on her stomach and the bite mark on her shoulder are evidence of a bear attack years earlier. She makes an effort to keep them covered, not out of shame but to avoid questions.
Anya is not one for long-term plans. She’s self-centered before she’s good or evil, but she'll tend to choose the good option if she feels safe to do so. If she has power in a situation, she tends to be more selfless than if she's powerless. Her loyalty is hard to earn and not always steadfast.
She wears regular Thieves Guild armor, boots, and bracers as well as a gold/emerald circlet and an amulet of Talos. Though she has some experience with magic, she prefers melee combat. She wields a hunting bow, an elven sword, and an elven dagger, all stolen. Her arrow stash is made up of pretty much any arrow she can find, but they tend to be mostly steel.
Spells: muffle, candlelight, invisibility, bound sword, healing, flames
Level 50 perk spread: Skyrim Perk Calculator
Background: Anya’s birth parents were rebellious Altmer, which is to say they were quietly against the war with the Nords because they believed it would be better to let the gods punish men for their existence than lose young elves in battle. They formed contacts with traveling merchants to learn what was actually happening in Skyrim since they didn't trust news from their leaders. When the Thalmor began rooting out these traitors, Anya’s parents realized that their infant daughter would either be assimilated or killed. To prevent this, they sent her away with one of those merchants, who brought her to a small group made up of Nords and a single Khajit named Jo'Rakha. The merchant revealed neither his name nor the names of Anya’s parents.
This group raised her, making sure she understood that her parents were victims of the Thalmor and that Skyrim belonged to the Nords. They gave her a Nordic name and a strong belief in Talos, but more importantly, they taught her how to steal and kill quietly to get what she needed. Though these Nords were willing to defy the law, they still clung to an honor code, whereas Jo'Rakha taught her to forget honor and take what she wanted instead.
When she was twenty, the group stopped to camp, and a small battalion of Thalmor found them. As a matter of pride, the Nords refused to admit that Talos was a false god, so the Thalmor attacked and killed them. Jo'Rakha was badly wounded in the fight, and he died trying to escape. Anya managed to slip away only because she stole the robes from a dead Thalmor.
She wandered Skyrim alone for many years, stealing and hiding out to survive. When she encountered others, she pretended to be mute rather than speak and reveal her accent, an odd mixture of Nord and Khajit. At twenty-two, she was attacked by a bear in the woods, and she barely survived the encounter.
She made her way to Riftin when she was twenty-seven, fully intending to join the Thieves Guild. After a few months of increasingly dangerous and valuable thefts, the guild took notice of her. They brought her in and honed her skills both in theft and combat. She became very capable with bows, mainly because they allowed for stealth attacks, and in melee combat, she learned to dual wield a sword and a dagger.
Presently, she resides in Riftin, sleeping in the Cistern of the Ragged Flagon. She has minimal mage training, but she doesn’t much care to fight with magic even in situations where magic may be a good option. She bears a strong resentment toward Nordic pride, believing her adopted family abandoned her for it. Thus, she thinks Ulfric Stormcloak will destroy Skyrim, but she has no current inclination to get involved with the war.
Factions:
The Order: unknown
Thalmor: really, really hates
Imperial Legion: basically neutral, but prefers them to Stormcloaks
Stormcloaks: tolerates
Falmer: dislikes
Reachmen: dislikes
The Guilds:
Thieves Guild: loyal member
Companions: not a member, thinks their honor code is stupid
Mages College: not a member
Dark Brotherhood: interested in joining, not a member
Starting Location: Riftin
RP Sample: Anya browses Grelka’s stand, carefully inspecting the hunting bow on display, looking for flaws and distinguishing marks. Grelka eyes her, either annoyed or suspicious, likely both.
“Are you planning on buying it or just gawking all day?” she snaps. Anya raises her eyes without answering, holding Grelka’s gaze until it bores her, and then drifts away into the crowd. She glances at Brynjolf and drifts to the small wall behind the stands, tugging her hood over her head and sliding to the ground next to the beggars.
A withered, dirty old man elbows her. “Spare some gold? One gold, just one.” She ignores him, so he elbows harder. “Gold, I said, gold!” She pushes his arm away, hissing, and he tumbles to the side, yelling incoherently about the injustice of poverty. She tenses, worried someone will take notice, but everyone pushes past him until he moves back to his spot, mumbling to himself. She tilts her head and listens as Brynjolf discusses bows with a finesse she never could, rolling her eyes at Grelka’s harsh responses. He asks her to describe each weapon, prodding for unnecessary details, and Anya can imagine the amusement on his face as Grelka grows slowly angrier.
“Buy or leave!” she growls. “I have better things to do than talk you through basic weapons!” Anya hears Brynjolf jingle his pockets, a signal, and she slithers up against a barrel next to the wall. “I think I’d like this bow, then,” he says, counting out each septim carefully. Grelka shoves the gold into a bag, unlocks the safe beneath her stand, throws the bag inside, and pockets the key. Brynjolf takes the bow, and while he continues to irritate Grelka with his charming appreciation of her services, Anya slips her hand into Grelka’s pocket, removes the key, and moves through the crowd into the temple, where she knows she won’t be bothered.
Her heart is pounding, more than she’d like to admit, so she lowers her head and pretends to pay her respects to Dibella to regain her composure. A few others dot the pews, many of them, Anya suspects, only there to avoid Riften’s cool weather. She plays with the key, tracing the contours with her eyes closed, half listening to the low, muttered prayers until night falls, and the priests shoo everyone out. She goes reluctantly, filtering out with the rest and returning to her place near the low wall with the other beggars.
She listens for Grelka to stomp away, footsteps echoing on the stone, and when the guards wander past, Anya creeps around the wall, crouching low. She reaches Grelka’s stand, picks open the basic lock on the grate, and uses the key to reach the gold inside. She stuffs the bag into her ragged shirt, pinning it to her body with one arm, and closes the grate. She avoids the guards, nearly throwing herself down the stairs and into the Ratway, running until an arm appears and yanks her into an alley.
“There, lass,” says Brynjolf quietly, smirking. “Got the money?” She takes out the gold and drops it in his hand, and he nods. “You’re good. We could use someone like you. Come down to the Ragged Flagon, we’ll get you some real armor instead of these rags. And here.” He hands her the hunting bow. “You’ll need a weapon.”
