Warninig: too many screenshots inbound.
Hailing from the tall mountains of the North, the land of snow, I present you:
17th of Rain's Hand, 4E 172
The day your family died. The day you lost your eye. The day you lost everything. The day you were alone. And from every day since, you are alone.
Born in the middle of nowhere by your mother, trapped in a frozen blizzard, the first thing that touched you was cold snow. Your mother was a shield maiden. A great warrior. Same as your father. Both great warriors. They fought in the Great War. Both had their fair amount of scars in their face to show up. You don't know what your mother was doing the day you where born, but you know someone was hunting her. She gave birth to you alone and managed to survive, even in the extreme cold of the northern part of Skyrim. The next thing you remember is a warm little stone home. A warm fire. A bowl full of warm horker stew. A bear pelt to keep you warm at night. All are warm. It had nothing to do with the outside. Outside was cold. But still, you were seeing your father steping out of that door. You remember him staying out there for hours, in the night. But always, you were seeing him steping again inside, this time carrying a dead elk or a boar with him.
Sweet memories in your mind.
Until that day. 17th of Rain's Hand. Someone knocked the door in the night. Your father was already outside. Your mother thought it was him, returning from the hunt. She opened the door. She fell down down dead. A huge black monster grabbed her corpse and smelled it. It ate her. You were watching from the other part of the house. It was a werewolf. It was your father. You were holding a dagger behind you.
The beast approached you and howled in your face. You let out a scream and stabbed the beast in the eye. It fell back trying to pull the dagger out with its huge hands. You ran to what was left from your mother's corpse. The beast rose again. Blood was pouring down its left eye. It unleashed terrifying howl again and walked towards you. You quickly ran up the stairs and locked yourself into your father's room. You knew the door wasn't going to hold forever, so you started looking for any weapon to defend yourself. Even if you were going to die by your father, you weren't going down without a fight. You opened a chest under his bed. You hadn't seen it before. Another dagger was inside. But this was different. It was silver. You grabbed it in your hands just in time the door broke. Your father ran inside and pushed his claw in your left eye. The pain was beyond imagination. But you were still holding that dagger. You pushed it in your father's heart. The beast fell down to its knees. The snowy black fur started to fall to the ground and the skin was getting warmer and warmer. The beast was gone. Just your father looking at you at his knees.
"Forgive me, son".
He fell face down to the wooden floor and never rose up again.
You found a note in your mother's wardrobe. It was from your father.
"When the time comes I can't hold myself anymore, I want you to take our son and go up, in my room. I want you to look under the bed and find my silver dagger. I want you to kill me with it.
When that time comes, please, forgive me, my love.
I will always love you".
You burnt the house and left to the wilderness. You had no fear of the cold, anymore. You fled to the forest. Wolves found you. They did not harm you. Even though your father's curse hadn't passed to you, you still have some beast blood inside you. The beasts could smell it. You lived there, with them, in the snow of the North. You hunted with them. You weren't as fast, but you were smarter. You made a hunting bow out of wood and some wooden arrows. You hunted prey. You covered yourself with skins. You fed your belly with meat.
But the wolves aren't living forever. Your new beast family died. You were alone again. As a grown man, you follow your own path. You found civilization. In their eyes you will always be an outlaw. A savage. In your eyes, they're all milkdrinkers.
Your travels led you to Morrowind, to Cyrodiil, to Hammerfell. Nothing is as great as the North. You desire to come back home. You desire to see the snowy mountains and the colourfull night of your homeland.
The Imperials think otherwise.
Nord. Son of the North.
0/3/1.
The Lord. The only reason I chose the Lord, is because back in Oblivion, the Lord would gave you the "Blood of the North" power and a 25% weakness to fire, which is great with this character.
The Northborn is somewhat a fusion of a berserker and a barbarian. I really tried to get that Morrowind feeling back on. You know... where you would wear whatever the hell you wanted and would care less for the "best". So the skills are a bit odd.
Major Skills: One-handed, Two-handed, Archery.
Minor Skills: Light Armor, Heavy Armor, Smithing.
Now you can wear almost everything and not care about being "too weak". Either way, weakness comes in skill, not armor or weaponry (except you're fighting with a wooden sword).
Level 15: http://skyrimcalculator.com/377297
Level 30: http://skyrimcalculator.com/377307
Level 50: http://skyrimcalculator.com/377305
As you can see, we ain't taking any more of the base perks for heavy and light armor. And that is, because the Northborn doesn't wear helmet. Never. Better take an arrow to the head, than reduce the already reduced sight. Literally.
Low to Mid Levels (1-20)
Head: Nothing
Chest: Fur Armor with bear torso for the western side of Skyrim and full Fur Armor for the eastern
Gauntlets: Fur Gauntlets
Boots: Fur Boots
Two Iron War Axes and an Iron Battleaxe.
Hunting Bow and Iron Arrows.
Mid to High Levels (20-40)
Set 1
Same as low levels.
Two Iron War Axes or two Steel War Axes or two Dwarven War Axes and an Iron Battleaxe or a Steel Battleaxe or an Orcish Battleaxe.
Set 2
Head: Nothing
Chest: Scaled Horn Armor
Gauntlets: Scaled Gauntlets
Boots: Scaled Boots
Two Elven War Axes and a Steel Battleaxe or an Orcish Battleaxe.
High Levels (40+)
Set 1
Same as low levels.
Two Iron War Axes or two Nordic Carved War Axes or two Dragonbone War Axes and an Iron Battleaxe or a Nordic Carved Battleaxe or a Dragonbone Battleaxe.
Set 2
Head: Nothing
Chest: Orcish Armor or Nordic Carved Armor
Gauntlets: Orcish Gauntlets or Nordic Carved Gauntlets
Boots: Orcish Boots or Nordic Carved Boots
Two Ebony War Axes and an Ebony Battleaxe.
OR
anything else you find in your travels and looks badass.
As a savage to "normal" people, your home is at the woods. You wonder from place to place, searching for challenges and blood. You NEVER back down from a fight, even though you know you'll die. You care less for gold and you're always after the "bad guys". Who is the bad guy is up to you to decide. You don't care what everybody thinks. Even though you wear no armor at torso, your skin is as hard as stone after so money years in the cold wilderness.
You enter combat the classic way. Run in and slash'em all. 
Also, whoever asks about your eye, is dead. No matter if he is good or evil. You're simple as that.
You have great respect for capable warriors, so becoming Blood-Kin to the Orcs is good choice for a quest.
Try to eat regulary and have a bottle or two of some ale now and then. Go swim at lakes in order to not stink, too. And if you see a slaughterfish, make it your launch. You're especially fond of horse meat. Or mammoth meat. Or troll meat. Screw it, all are good.
You have no hate for anyone. Until the Imperials tried to chop your head. And a vampire group tried to drink your blood. And the Dark Brotherhood sent an assassin to try to assassinate you. And a member of the Thieves Guild tried to steal from you. And the Undead tried to kill you.
Whatever, you catch my meaning. They all tried.
You respect nature at its fullest and you hunt only to survive. Although, you will always accept the challenge of a hostile bear or a hungry sabre cat.
You learnt to never show mercy. People are not to be trusted. Especially the ones that were trying to kill you moments ago.
Also, you couldn't care less for Daedric Princes and stuff like that. Who cares if they hold tremendous amounts of power? Who cares if they can trap you in their realm and torture you for eternity? You know that you will not give them this pleasure. Even if they catch you, you will never break, no matter what they'll do. As I said, you're simple as that.
"Boethiah, huh? Too old for my tastes".
I though I made clear the thing with revenge. They tried to chop you head off, you chop their head off.
They tried to suck your blood, you suck their blood for the blade of your axes.
Optional. After Helgen you can go warn those citizens for the dragon, or you could just screw it and mind your own business. Personally, I did the second. Maybe it's just that I played so many times the main quest that I don't want hear about it anymore. Damn.
Also,
any other quest you see fitting with the character. But remember this: you don't care for gold, only for the challenge.
This is so pirate...
You work alone.
If you're on pc, download an eyepatch mod.
Check out my page for more builds!
Warninig: too many screenshots inbound.
Hailing from the tall mountains of the North, the land of snow, I present you:
17th of Rain's Hand, 4E 172
The day your family died. The day you lost your eye. The day you lost everything. The day you were alone. And from every day since, you are alone.
Born in the middle of nowhere by your mother, trapped in a frozen blizzard, the first thing that touched you was cold snow. Your mother was a shield maiden. A great warrior. Same as your father. Both great warriors. They fought in the Great War. Both had their fair amount of scars in their face to show up. You don't know what your mother was doing the day you where born, but you know someone was hunting her. She gave birth to you alone and managed to survive, even in the extreme cold of the northern part of Skyrim. The next thing you remember is a warm little stone home. A warm fire. A bowl full of warm horker stew. A bear pelt to keep you warm at night. All are warm. It had nothing to do with the outside. Outside was cold. But still, you were seeing your father steping out of that door. You remember him staying out there for hours, in the night. But always, you were seeing him steping again inside, this time carrying a dead elk or a boar with him.
Sweet memories in your mind.
Until that day. 17th of Rain's Hand. Someone knocked the door in the night. Your father was already outside. Your mother thought it was him, returning from the hunt. She opened the door. She fell down down dead. A huge black monster grabbed her corpse and smelled it. It ate her. You were watching from the other part of the house. It was a werewolf. It was your father. You were holding a dagger behind you.
The beast approached you and howled in your face. You let out a scream and stabbed the beast in the eye. It fell back trying to pull the dagger out with its huge hands. You ran to what was left from your mother's corpse. The beast rose again. Blood was pouring down its left eye. It unleashed terrifying howl again and walked towards you. You quickly ran up the stairs and locked yourself into your father's room. You knew the door wasn't going to hold forever, so you started looking for any weapon to defend yourself. Even if you were going to die by your father, you weren't going down without a fight. You opened a chest under his bed. You hadn't seen it before. Another dagger was inside. But this was different. It was silver. You grabbed it in your hands just in time the door broke. Your father ran inside and pushed his claw in your left eye. The pain was beyond imagination. But you were still holding that dagger. You pushed it in your father's heart. The beast fell down to its knees. The snowy black fur started to fall to the ground and the skin was getting warmer and warmer. The beast was gone. Just your father looking at you at his knees.
"Forgive me, son".
He fell face down to the wooden floor and never rose up again.
You found a note in your mother's wardrobe. It was from your father.
"When the time comes I can't hold myself anymore, I want you to take our son and go up, in my room. I want you to look under the bed and find my silver dagger. I want you to kill me with it.
When that time comes, please, forgive me, my love.
I will always love you".
You burnt the house and left to the wilderness. You had no fear of the cold, anymore. You fled to the forest. Wolves found you. They did not harm you. Even though your father's curse hadn't passed to you, you still have some beast blood inside you. The beasts could smell it. You lived there, with them, in the snow of the North. You hunted with them. You weren't as fast, but you were smarter. You made a hunting bow out of wood and some wooden arrows. You hunted prey. You covered yourself with skins. You fed your belly with meat.
But the wolves aren't living forever. Your new beast family died. You were alone again. As a grown man, you follow your own path. You found civilization. In their eyes you will always be an outlaw. A savage. In your eyes, they're all milkdrinkers.
Your travels led you to Morrowind, to Cyrodiil, to Hammerfell. Nothing is as great as the North. You desire to come back home. You desire to see the snowy mountains and the colourfull night of your homeland.
The Imperials think otherwise.
Nord. Son of the North.
0/3/1.
The Lord. The only reason I chose the Lord, is because back in Oblivion, the Lord would gave you the "Blood of the North" power and a 25% weakness to fire, which is great with this character.
The Northborn is somewhat a fusion of a berserker and a barbarian. I really tried to get that Morrowind feeling back on. You know... where you would wear whatever the hell you wanted and would care less for the "best". So the skills are a bit odd.
Major Skills: One-handed, Two-handed, Archery.
Minor Skills: Light Armor, Heavy Armor, Smithing.
Now you can wear almost everything and not care about being "too weak". Either way, weakness comes in skill, not armor or weaponry (except you're fighting with a wooden sword).
Level 15: http://skyrimcalculator.com/377297
Level 30: http://skyrimcalculator.com/377307
Level 50: http://skyrimcalculator.com/377305
As you can see, we ain't taking any more of the base perks for heavy and light armor. And that is, because the Northborn doesn't wear helmet. Never. Better take an arrow to the head, than reduce the already reduced sight. Literally.
Low to Mid Levels (1-20)
Head: Nothing
Chest: Fur Armor with bear torso for the western side of Skyrim and full Fur Armor for the eastern
Gauntlets: Fur Gauntlets
Boots: Fur Boots
Two Iron War Axes and an Iron Battleaxe.
Hunting Bow and Iron Arrows.
Mid to High Levels (20-40)
Set 1
Same as low levels.
Two Iron War Axes or two Steel War Axes or two Dwarven War Axes and an Iron Battleaxe or a Steel Battleaxe or an Orcish Battleaxe.
Set 2
Head: Nothing
Chest: Scaled Horn Armor
Gauntlets: Scaled Gauntlets
Boots: Scaled Boots
Two Elven War Axes and a Steel Battleaxe or an Orcish Battleaxe.
High Levels (40+)
Set 1
Same as low levels.
Two Iron War Axes or two Nordic Carved War Axes or two Dragonbone War Axes and an Iron Battleaxe or a Nordic Carved Battleaxe or a Dragonbone Battleaxe.
Set 2
Head: Nothing
Chest: Orcish Armor or Nordic Carved Armor
Gauntlets: Orcish Gauntlets or Nordic Carved Gauntlets
Boots: Orcish Boots or Nordic Carved Boots
Two Ebony War Axes and an Ebony Battleaxe.
OR
anything else you find in your travels and looks badass.
As a savage to "normal" people, your home is at the woods. You wonder from place to place, searching for challenges and blood. You NEVER back down from a fight, even though you know you'll die. You care less for gold and you're always after the "bad guys". Who is the bad guy is up to you to decide. You don't care what everybody thinks. Even though you wear no armor at torso, your skin is as hard as stone after so money years in the cold wilderness.
You enter combat the classic way. Run in and slash'em all.
Also, whoever asks about your eye, is dead. No matter if he is good or evil. You're simple as that.
You have great respect for capable warriors, so becoming Blood-Kin to the Orcs is good choice for a quest.
Try to eat regulary and have a bottle or two of some ale now and then. Go swim at lakes in order to not stink, too. And if you see a slaughterfish, make it your launch. You're especially fond of horse meat. Or mammoth meat. Or troll meat. Screw it, all are good.
You have no hate for anyone. Until the Imperials tried to chop your head. And a vampire group tried to drink your blood. And the Dark Brotherhood sent an assassin to try to assassinate you. And a member of the Thieves Guild tried to steal from you. And the Undead tried to kill you.
Whatever, you catch my meaning. They all tried.
You respect nature at its fullest and you hunt only to survive. Although, you will always accept the challenge of a hostile bear or a hungry sabre cat.
You learnt to never show mercy. People are not to be trusted. Especially the ones that were trying to kill you moments ago.
Also, you couldn't care less for Daedric Princes and stuff like that. Who cares if they hold tremendous amounts of power? Who cares if they can trap you in their realm and torture you for eternity? You know that you will not give them this pleasure. Even if they catch you, you will never break, no matter what they'll do. As I said, you're simple as that.
"Boethiah, huh? Too old for my tastes".
I though I made clear the thing with revenge. They tried to chop you head off, you chop their head off.
They tried to suck your blood, you suck their blood for the blade of your axes.
Optional. After Helgen you can go warn those citizens for the dragon, or you could just screw it and mind your own business. Personally, I did the second. Maybe it's just that I played so many times the main quest that I don't want hear about it anymore. Damn.
Also,
any other quest you see fitting with the character. But remember this: you don't care for gold, only for the challenge.
This is so pirate...
You work alone.
If you're on pc, download an eyepatch mod.
Check out my page for more builds!
