Yura Ysciierre [Needs Revision]

Character Name: Yura Ysciierre

Nickname(s): N/A

Race: Breton

Sex: Female

Age: 23

Birthplace: Her family’s farm outside Windhelm.



[The image is just to give a general appearance and some clothing, however she would also wear clothes more suitable for the weather, as well as armour over her coat.]

Height: 5’6

Weight: 130 lbs

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: White

Hair Style: Usually rather messy, she for the most part just leaves it to do its own thing

Facial Hair: N/A

Skin Color: Light, but not quite pale

Build: Somewhat short, but athletic

Distinguishing Features: Yura, as with her sister and mother, bares a very odd colour of hair. When asked why, her mother explained that it happened to her when she was messing around with magic when she was younger, and that it had carried on to them.



Profession: Dawnguard

Skills: Yura has many different skills that she has picked up over time, but those that she excels in would be One-Handed Weaponry, Restoration Magic and Destruction Magic.

Magic:
Fast Healing – Apprentice
Ice Spike – Apprentice
Sun Fire – Apprentice
Fortify Speed – Apprentice (Also known as Fortify Agility)

Training: Yura was originally taught the basics of magic by her mother, and has since practised day after day, learning from others when able. She can’t quite remember why she took up the sword, but she knows she has trained with one ever since she can remember, training and sparring tirelessly over the years. Since joining the Dawnguard she has improved even further, as well as learnt how to wield a crossbow, however she doesn’t carry one on her person. She is also quite the athlete, but this is more a by-product of her constant training.

Other Abilities: Yura has learnt how to look after herself over the years, and knows how to repair her equipment and cook.

Apparel: Yura’s clothes change day to day depending on the weather, but she almost always wears a dark coat, which she puts her Dawnguard armour over. However she chooses not to wear a helmet, insisting that it is clunky and inconvenient. She instead wears a bandana, which while it offers no protection, she insists it helps her focus. She also has a face-wrap she wears during colder weather, or when there is stuff in the air (e.g. ash, snow, sand), otherwise it sits around the base of her neck, acting sort of like a scarf.

Weaponry: Her father’s sword - an Akiviri Katana, slightly longer in length to the more modern Blades Sword, that bears a fire damage enchantment. She also carries a knife for hunting.

Other Equipment: Backpack, an assortment of Health and Magicka potions, water skin, flint and steel

Companions: None



Affiliation: The Dawnguard

Religious Belief: While she believes in the Daedra and the Nine Divines, she does not actively worship either of them.

Sexual Preference: Heterosexual

Relationship Status: Single

Personality: Yura was once a determined yet happy young girl, who’s wish was to go on weird and wacky adventures with her sister Nura. The two were inseparable, and complimented each other in almost every way. However, the loss of her sister struck her hard, and ever since she hasn’t been quite the same. She feels guilty for not being able to save her, and angry at the Vampires, all the time in-between she’s usually bitter and brooding.



Yura never remembered much about her father. He was tall and strong, and always helped out around the house. He was like a hero in the fairy tales, but he was always there to help them.
Until one day, he wasn’t. Four year old Yura never understood why he left, but her mother seemed to.
And so she lived on their farm outside of Windhelm with her mother and her twin sister Nura. Though to call it a farm was a bit of a stretch. They had a fair bit of money that her father had left them, and they rented out the lands on their property to other farmers. Yura was the active and loyal older sister, always with Nura, who was more lady-like. Yura liked swords and fighting, Nura liked flowers and animals. But there were two things the sisters shared: Their love of adventure and their love of each other.
Their mother, a Breton woman who never quite regained her vitality after birthing the twins, spend her spare time teaching the two magic. Even a basic healing spell to heal their cuts and bruises was heard to learn, but they both put their all into it and learnt it eventually, however Nura got the hang it a lot quicker.
Nura learnt from their mother how to sow and cook, but Yura was never interested in that. She spend her afternoons tirelessly training with a practice sword, she even had little training dummies set up. Yura would come back home as the sun went down each day, covered head to toe in little cuts and bruises, and the two would talk and laugh while Nura healed her up.
However their days of carefree training and learning, like everything else, would not last forever.

Yura, now in her early teens, had been practicing with a few of the less busy Windhelm guards for the afternoon like she usually did, and returned to her home. When she knocked on the door, instead of being met with her mother’s usual greeting, she instead heard the panicked voice of her sister.
“Yura, quick, get in here!” Nura had called out, and Yura entered the house, heading towards the sound of the voice. It led her to her mother’s bedroom, of whom was lying in bed looking gravely ill.
She had been ill for a very long time, her health gradually declining since she gave birth to her daughters, and finally her body had given out. She did not have long; they both knew, not long enough to call for a doctor at least. Nura had been helping her hold on for the past hour with constant healing magic, but she was running out herself. To their surprise, their mother told them that she was fine with letting this be her fate, as long as she got to say one final goodbye to them both.
“Nora, look out for your sister. She can be a little rash and headstrong at times, but you know she always has the best of intentions.” The two shared a brief hug before she turned to Yura.
“And Yura, I know you two want to go on adventures when you’re older, and there is no way I could stop you, so just make sure you keep her safe.” Yura nodded, and then it was their turn to share an embrace. After, their mother wished them one final farewell, before closing her eyes and allowing herself her final rest. The distraught twins cried for hours, but as they buried her below the sunset that evening, they knew in their hearts that she had died happy, and she had nothing to regret as long as they could keep their promises.
But promises are made to be broken aren’t they?

It had been a little over two years since their mothers death before they left home to travel, a third spent in their quest for adventure. They weren’t fussed for work, usually only refusing jobs that they found unethical. They travelled from city to city, stopping whenever necessary to rest and count their coin, and they enjoyed their life on the road. Together the two formed quite the competent duo, bombarding their enemies from range with a few spells, while Yura would finish their weakened targets with her swordsmanship backed up by Nura’s protective and healing magics. At first the two had qualms with killing Bandits, but after they had seen the kind of destruction said bandits could wreck, they soon found themselves more inclined.
It wasn’t to say the two hadn’t gotten into any close calls, there were numerous occasions that they either managed by the skin of their teeth or had to pull out, but the two like all young people, seemed to have the idea they were invincible. As long as they stuck by each other, they had the will to get out of anything.
Until of course, that one snowy night…
The two had taken up camp in the woodlands about four hours out of Solitude, a little off the roadside but not deep into the woods to expect any trouble. Or so they thought.

The two had finished their supper, and Nura was getting ready for sleep, Yura taking the first watch. But then Yura heard them. The hounds. While it wasn’t uncommon for packs of stray dogs or even wolves to be found around these parts, they were usually pretty inactive this late at night. She told Nura to be prepared to defend herself, then left the camp, moving towards the sound of the creatures. She’d rather deal with them away from Nura and the camp so she wouldn’t have to risk damaging anything or putting her sister in danger.
She soon found them, a pack of three lurking towards the camp. The fight was brief, and she slew them, but the only narrowly avoided getting her arm chomped in the process. However when she looked back on their bodies, she noticed something was off. Decaying flesh, skin as black as the night sky – these dogs were undead. There was something off about the whole situation, but she couldn’t quite figure out what.
She turned around to head back to camp, and she heard something that would haunt her for the rest of her life. She heard her sister scream.
She rushed back to the camp as fast as she could. But she was too late. She reached it just in time to see the humanoid figure discard her sister’s lifeless body.
And that was Yura’s introduction to vampires.
She had heard the stories, seen the books, but here one was directly in front of her. And she was pissed. Maybe the vampire had thought her easy prey, maybe he had overestimated his skill with the dagger he carried, either way Yura managed to get the first blow. The vampire, now with a deep cut into his sword arm, could not block the rage-induced flurry of strikes that Yura unleashed, and within minutes the fight was over.
The vile creature, too injured to get up, was silenced once and for all as Yura plunged her blade through its mouth, red slowly tainting the snow beneath.

Yura did not sleep that night, she simply wept, her sister lifeless in her arms. When the morning sun rose, she solemnly dug her sister a grave. The creature that had attacked them would get none; he was to be left to the wolves.
She reached Solitude, but her time there was short. She left soon after she had the necessary supplies, her new destination – Home.
She took a boat back, and while some of the few other travellers were enjoying the journey, occasionally trying to strike up small talk with her, she didn’t say a word. She felt empty, and the world felt so very far away. She was back in Windhelm after two days of travel and was back home by the third.
Yura approached the grave off her mother and burst into tears, apologizing for not reaching her sister in time, and for failing to keep her promise. When she felt she had let it all out, she approached the old house. Unsurprisingly the house had been broken into, several windows damaged, the door open and most of the items inside gone.
She searched the whole place top to bottom, half looking in case there was anything left, and half just to reminisce about her younger days. She had to stifle back tears as she reached her and Nura’s bedroom, only taking a brief look before moving on. She eventually made her way down to the cellar, most of the alcohol missing. She managed to find a bottle of cheap of wine that had not yet been looted. She took one swig, gagged and chucked the bottle aside. She took a look around the cellar, taking in the broken racks, smashed glass and lack of bottles.
‘How dare they? What gives them the right?’ Was all she could think.
Angry, but with no way to release the anger, she paced back and forth before kicked one of the nearby walls. Only, instead of a sharp pain entering her foot and causing her to stumble back, the wall collapsed. Clearing some of the rubble out of the way, she found a small crawlspace that had been covered with a thin layer of bricks. After a little investigating, and the help of a candle, she found it led to a small room with a stand in the middle. On the stand were engraved the words Theerran Ysciierre, and it bore a strange sword, the likes of which she had never seen. It had an intricately crafted scabbard, and it’s blade glowed a faint orange colour. She quickly came realized the obvious – this was her father’s sword. She would never know what her father did for a living, and why he had owned this sword, but she took it with her, a memory of the family she had lost. She said goodbye to her mother, apologizing one last time, then left. She never returned to the house again.

For the next five years, she travelled in search of work. Mercenary work mainly, but she took whatever she could. She needed something to do, because whenever she wasn’t working, she was haunted by grief and regret. She travelled all over Skyrim, and even a bit into the lands beyond. Where ever the work was, she followed.
She didn’t socialize much on her travels, having no friends from back home and always being too moody to make new ones. Sometimes she would travel and do a few jobs with other people, but even those that did try to befriend her were quickly driven off.
She tried telling a few people about the encounter with the vampire that night, but none believed her, writing her off as delusional and stupid.
That was until she met the Dawnguard. She had stumbled across one of their patrols, and upon discovering what it is they did for a living; she immediately asked how to join. The patrol took her back to their fort, and after a fairly brief introduction and registration, she was put into training.
For a whole year, she devoted herself. Training, learning, whatever it took to find out more about the vampires. And more importantly, how to kill them before they can do any more damage.
When the time came that Dawnguard began transferring out to the new fort, Fort Dawnwatch, Yura agreed to go too. Maybe she’d finally get a chance to fight back against the creatures that had taken so much from her.