Fenrik the Giant

Character Name: Fenrik

Nickname(s): The Giant

Race: Nord

Sex: Male

Age: 18

Birthplace: Whiterun





Height: 6'11

Weight: 130 kilograms

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: Dark Blonde

Hair Style: Somewhat unkempt, with a braid in the front.

Facial Hair: A light beard.

Skin Color: Pale

Build: "By the Nine!" Fenrik is rather large, both in height and weight, and is remarkably strong.

Distinguishing Features: Fenrik is very much distinguishable. He is rather easy to spot, as he is a lot taller then most folk, and is very well muscled.



Profession: Dawnguard Recruit

Skills: He can swing any weapon he's handed, but he's rather stretched thin with his ability with them. He is not particularly great in form, but makes up for it in strength. His ability to move in Heavy Armour is more due to his strength than any skill.

Magic: Very little, he can cast two healing spells, one for himself, and one for others. He isn't very competent with it though, and can just about mend cuts and bruises. He also knows basic sun magic.

Training: The Dawnguard

Other Abilities: Farming

Apparel: Heavy Dawnguard Armour

Weaponry: Steel Battleaxe imbued with runes that ward off Vampires.

Other Equipment: A variety of equipment suited to a traveller. A whetstone, cooking equipment, bedroll, etc.

Companions: A large warhorse, 'Halifax'.



Affiliation: The Dawnguard

Religious Belief: The Eight

Sexual Preference: Heterosexual

Relationship Status: Single

Personality: Fenrik is a kind soul. He's a very friendly person, and is said to always have a smile on his face. He likes to talk to people and helps out when he can.



Fenrik's father, Daveth, was a former soldier in the Imperial Legion, and his mother, Halja, a Priestess of Arkay who had nursed Daveth back to health after a battle. After falling in love, they retired to Whiterun, and begun a modest living running a farm close to Rorikstead. About a year after, Fenrik was born.

Fenrik was a big lad, even in his younger years. He had always been somewhat larger than everyone else. His mother had almost died in childbirth, but luckily one of the people assisting in the birth was a skilled restoration mage. Fenrik was not a very difficult child. He was quite content, a tear from him was not an often occurance. The only thing is that he was constantly close to his father, watching and helping with crops.

When Fenrik was two years old, he had gained a friend. His little brother, Rormund, was born. Fenrik was quite protective of his brother, even from birth. He was always playing with his brother. Fenrik and Rormund were inseperable, wherever one went, so did the other. The two brothers went with Daveth twice a week to Rorikstead, and there they ran around and played with the other children.

When the Stormcloak Rebellion was in full swing, Daveth, still being a capable soldier, was conscripted to war. And never came back. Daveth survived through most of the war, but in the Siege of Windhelm, he was forced into combat with Galmar Stone-Fist, Ulfric's best general. Daveth held out for as long as he could, and managed to slice the General's leg. But Galmar used the pain to fuel his assault, and slew the poor footsoldier. Daveth was buried with full military honors, as he weakened the General. This was one of the rare occasions that Fenrik had cried. He mourned his father, and assumed his father's duties.

Fenrik and Rormund ran the farm. Rormund was a wonder with crops, and Fenrik was a wonder with an axe, and was commonly cutting wood for the fire. Their first few harvests were not as good as what they were with Daveth around, but they learned, and returned to the same quality and amount that their father had used to bring in. And such was their life for the next 7 or so years.

Fenrik headed into Rorikstead, to trade his crops for some essentials they couldn't make on the farm, his brother needed more arrows, and Fenrik used it as an excuse to see the woman he loved. He returned late in the day, and upon coming over a nearby hill, saw that the farm was on fire. It was recently lit, and the smoke not yet visible from Rorikstead. He saw two bodies lying on the ground, the first was a woman, in some type of armour he had never seen before, she had an arrow sticking out of her throat. The second was of similar size, but was a man, or rather, a young man. It was Rormund, with his bow lying next to him. Fenrik ran to his brother's body, and was about to kneel next to it, until the crackle of flame reminded him, his house was on fire, and his mother was most likely still inside. He ran up the steps and tried to barge through the door, but it wouldn't budge. He moved to the left, and kicked down the planks that made up the wall, and stepped inside. He saw his axe embedded in his own mother, he pulled it out, and threw it through the hole in the wall. He then picked his mother up, and followed the axe, through the hole. Fenrik sat his mother's body down next to Rormund, and picked up his axe, and sat it next to them. He pulled a shovel out of the ground, and walked back over to the corpses of his most loved people in this world, and began digging two holes for them.

Just on sundown, two guards from Rorikstead, and an adventurer that had the nerve to think he could fight off whatever caused the fire, had arrived to investigate. The two guards looked at the corpse of the woman, and the adventurer went to talk to Fenrik, who had just buried his mother, and was lifting Rormund's corpse into the hole. The adventurer, who was a deal smaller than Fenrik, who at 16 was quite a large lad, about 6'7 and muscled like a maiden's fantasy, the adventuerer on the other hand looked no taller than 6 foot, and was quite slender.

The Adventurer attempted to pull Fenrik back, away from his task. And he just snapped. Fenrik briskly walked to where he sat his axe down, and lifted it, and swung it sideways at the Adventurer's neck. He had barely ducked under the head, and before he had time to get back up, the axe was above Fenrik's head, and coming down vertically on the adventurer. He managed to unleash a shriek before his head was split in two. Fenrik held the axe in one hand, and looked at the guards. They walked over, hands firmly gripped around their blades. They knew better than to fight Fenrik.

"Fenrik. We'll let you bury your brother, but after that, you'll have to come with us to Whiterun. Jarl Balgruuf is required to serve justice."

None of the two guards had particularly wanted to die, and Fenrik most likely would've gotten through one of them. They burned the body of the adventurer. He had no next of kin, as they had drunk with him the night before, and he had just about told them his life story. Then they walked back to Whiterun.

As a precaution, Fenrik was clapped in irons, which fit very tightly around his wrists, and took the most direct route to Dragonsreach. They placed Fenrik in jail, and informed the Jarl of what he had done, and of the burning of the farm. One of the guards, who had known Fenrik since he was just a wee lad, and fought side-by-side with his father in the Stormcloak Civil War, took it upon himself to inform Fenrik of what was going on.

"Fenrik. Your home was attacked by vampires. The woman that lie dead at the farm, she was a vampire, but we presume your brother had killed the beast. Jarl Balgruuf is a kind and forgiving man, and I've personally made a plea for him to allow you to live. But we don't know what he's going to do. He'll present the verdict to you this afternoon."

He had barely eaten or drunk anything in the day between his arrest and the verdict. Only his stomach's loud rumbling and his constant dizziness had encouraged him to eat. Fenrik looked terrible when he was presented to Balgruuf. His eyes were red, all of his tears were drained from his eyes, and he looked like the saddest man in Skyrim. Balgruuf instantly empathized with him, but he had to set an example. Balgruuf sentenced him to forced labour in the mines, and they were about to send him back to his cell when a member of the Dawnguard spoke up.

"We could always use more men. We'll take him, if you want, my lord."

Balgruuf knew that labour in the mines would most likely drive Fenrik insane, and ruin him. In the Dawnguard, he may be given a new life, a new family. Something he needed now. Balgruuf let them take him.

Fenrik was mostly quiet on the journey back to Fort Dawnguard. The men accompanying him already knew what had happened, and they respected Fenrik enough to not talk about it, and they did their best to cheer him up, but it didn't really work. Most of what they managed to get out of him was "Okay.", and "Sounds good."

After they arrived, Fenrik opened up more. He could vent his emotions into training. He went through two dolls in his first week. He found himself to be naturally talented with a battleaxe, it felt quite natural to him. He learned quickly, the motion of swinging an axe was very much embedded in his muscle memory. It took months for him to not think of the poor adventurer he killed whenever he swung the axe. He wished he could go back, and stop himself from killing him. In hindsight, the man most likely just wanted to console him, stop any more grief that burying his family would cause him, or perhaps even just to give Fenrik a break, and bury them for him.

He even found himself to be somewhat decent in restoration magic, most likely due to his mother's ability. Every time he healed himself, or another Dawnguard member, it brought back fond memories of his mother, who was the one to mend him or his brother whenever they had injured themselves. Fenrik didn't like Archery. Whenever he loosed an arrow, he thought of his brother. He thought of the vampire that lie dead at their farm, he thought of his brother's lifeless corpse.

Fenrik got along well with his other members, and after a few months he returned to the smiling giant that he used to be. There wasn't a person in Fort Dawnguard that he didn't get along with. Whenever something heavy needed lifting, most people went to Fenrik, as he was one of the strongest and largest people in the Fort.

About a year into his new life, Fenrik went on his first hunt. There was nine of them, they had tracked a small coven of vampires down in the east of Falkreath. The coven had recently left their last rathole because of increasing activity around the area. When they were on the move, the Dawnguard struck. Nine against ten. A fair fight. They used sun magic to harm and blind them, while they struck. In the end, Fenrik had killed two, and not a single member had been harmed. They returned victorious. As were all other huntings Fenrik had been on.

Quite recently, Fenrik was transferred from Fort Dawnguard, to Fort Dawnwatch under Carlin the Wild.