> First-, middle-, lastname
Ofeig. Just Ofeig.
Stablehand; ‘Crapboy’; ‘Shitsweep’; ‘Hey you!’
> Age and birthsign
16; The Steed (oh the irony…)
> ‘At first glimpse…’
A gangly, unimpressive youth afflicted with terrible acne, frequently seems to have bird droppings somewhere on his person. Unremarkable straight brown hair left at doofy ear-length accentuates his overbite in an unfortunate way; his best feature is probably the light hazel of his eyes, which frequently seem to be turned toward the sky as he daydreams.
Born to obscurity in the form of a washerwoman and any number of men which could be his father, Ofeig was raised amidst the servantry of a small Skyrim holding and hasn’t moved far up the social ladder.
> Factions and loyalties
Ofeig isn’t important enough for his loyalties to mean much, but his primary intentions at this point seem to be the proper keeping and care of his master’s horses, hounds, and hawks.
After all, what else has he known?
His mother’s still around, though she bemoans the fact loudly and often to anyone who will listen. He’s also got a pack of siblings, but he’s not particularly close to any of his family members; the poor lad has a deep and quite unrequited crush on the blacksmith lass who keeps the armory, but she probably doesn’t know he exists, being as he can’t bring himself to talk to her.
Besides, she’s a blacksmith, and he’s a stablelad. It could never work between them.
> Prejudice and judgement
The lad hasn’t seen enough of anything else besides his tiny holding to really have much in the way of opinions. Still, he finds the concept of mages to be deeply unsettling.
Appearance and physique
In a word – ‘unfortunate’.
Ofeig is at that stage in life where very few lads can be considered handsome to look at. His face is studded with acne, his limbs seem as long and gangly as a colt’s, and his sense of style is- underdeveloped, at best. He typically smells like the stables he inhabits and cleans, with a sharp hint of bird musk and unwashed lad to punctuate the horse-and-hound reek.
Aside the acne, he has long features and something of a weak chin owing to his overbite, which has two front teeth on display much of the time. The too-long bowl haircut really doesn’t do him any favors either.
He dresses poorly – patched hand-me-downs and the like. Then again, he isquite poor.
Gangly and unimpressive; tall, but not wide.
> Trinkets and jewelry
He collects bits of wood and pretty rocks to look at. They’re hidden in the mews.
> In their bag:
Extra clothes, flotsam and jetsam really.
> Other details
Not someone you’d look twice at.
Ofeig’s a bit of a daydreamer and a wonderer. While not an educated lad, he’s generally good intentioned and doesn’t shirk his work – not on purpose, anyway.
> Talents and weaknesses
He’s quite good with the birds, and, though he spends the majority of his time handling feces of one variety or the other, his lord master has come to rely on him to train and condition the raptors.
He’s decent with the hounds and horses, too, but such creatures are much more amenable to pleasing humans than the long and short winged hawks in the mews. He’d probably be capable of training them, too, given the time and incentive.
Lately, he’s been growing. His light build and long legs have made him a bit more valuable than he was previously – his lord master now has him running courier service to the nearby village, and he may have the opportunity to go further than that.
As far as weaknesses go – well. He’s uneducated, he has no combat experience or aptitude, and he’s not been more than ten miles from where he was born. He’s never ridden a horse, and he has no artistic proclivities.
Not to get whipped for shoddy work or daydreaming, primarily; he’d like to learn to read someday, maybe take up a real trade that doesn’t involve quite so much poop, marry a pretty girl…
But all that seems pretty distant.