Reserved - Though as a child she was much more outgoing and seemed to be constantly smiling, Aaralyn now is mostly reserved when it comes to her emotions and what she acts on. Don't get that mixed up with unmotivated or bland, because she surely will defend her own beliefs and feelings on subjects, but usually she sticks more to herself and prefers to watch those around her than talk to them. The once exception is her brother, with who she seems to lighten up somewhat and will even laugh and smile around him. It seems to be the rest of the world that she has an aversion to.

Compassionate - Even though she comes off as a cold and reserved person, Aaralyn is really a gentle person beneath. She cares for life and the nature that surrounds her, and hates to see suffering. When she does see someone or something suffering, she will go out of her way to try and heal or help whoever it is that is in need of assistance, sometimes without their ever knowing who it was that helped them.

Stubborn - Despite being quiet, Aaralyn has her own way of thinking and often sticks religiously to her own ideas. Once she's made up her mind in whatever it is that she has her focus on, it's extremely hard to change it, and she usually stubbornly goes ahead with whatever it was that she had originally set her mind on.

Level Headed - In circumstance that are straining to her, Aaralyn doesn't lose that calm spirit that she possesses, and will never charge into a situation without first assessing it completely. This can save her a lot of trouble since she is less likely to get involved in bad situations, and will avoid them if she possibly can. Even when faced with a difficult decision she needs to make, Aaralyn will be able to think logically.

Curious - Perhaps this is one of the few traits she continues to hold that she had as a child. Aaralyn is usually curious about anything and everything. If it's something she hasn't seen before, she will go through great lengths to check it out and try to find out exactly what it is. While this facet of her personality could have a tendency to get her in trouble, coupled with her level headed and reserved personality, she's less likely to charge into something, and instead, circles and watches things before she really goes up to check them out.



I suppose I grew up with what I would call an average life. Ivarsted was as good a place as any to do so. Some of my first memories was cuddling up in my fathers chest while he talked to customers at the Inn that he owned. I asked too many questions when I was a child, and always seemed to want to know new things. Even still, my family never seemed to tire of the endless questions that came their way. Some of my other memories of early life was following my mother out to her crops. Even when I was a small child I could contribute, and loved to help my mother weed and water the crops. I especially loved to run barefooted through the tilled soil, and helping to gather the production at the end of the season. Along with teaching me to garden however, my mother taught me some other valuable abilities. For instance, she got me started in Alchemy, teaching me different plants and herbs that could be used for different things. She truly got me started in this area, and ever since then I've been trying every possible combination to get different potions and poisons. At the tender age of five I made my first potion. Even though it was weak and wasn't very effective, I couldn't help but feel extremely happy while my parents beamed down at me.

I didn't know that we were poor until somewhat later in life. After all, my father always seemed to bring home the meat that we needed, along with my mothers crops, it was enough for a little girl. As I grew though, things seemed to become more and more difficult for my family. I was helpless to help, though I wanted to, and put my heart into trying to help my family. I would even run the Inn at times when my father took my older brother out to hunt.

Life in Ivarsted wasn't bad. I loved to hear the stories of those that were making their way up to High Hrothgar, and had a dream of meeting the Greybears and seeing what they could do. Odd...but most of them never came back to tell me the stories they promised to tell me when they returned. It took me some years to catch on why they never came back, and it made me sad after that to hear the grand stories of the travelers that all thought they were going to do great things. I always wished to tell them not to go up the stairs to Hrothgar, but instead I told them all to be careful.

Along these years came my obsession with bringing home stray animals. I usually found that it was easy to make friends with the different beasts around Ivarsted, and they seemed to always want to follow me home. Though my father would just smile wearily and tell me that they could stay, it was eventually my mother that explained kindly to me that we couldn't afford these animals. From that point on, I never brought home another animal, terrified that I would be adding more burden to my family.

Eventually my parents started to show their age, having had us later in life. Though my father had always stayed up later hours to tell me stories until I would fall asleep, I noticed that he went to sleep earlier and earlier, and always seemed tired, no matter what I did. My mother seemed to have this as well, and tasks that used to be easy now seemed to be difficult for her. I took over much of the work with the crops, and allowed her to stay inside and run the inn more and more. She seemed to appreciate that, and even regained some strength. I put my heart and soul into trying to help my family still. Along with the crop work and keeping most of the inn clean and tidy for guests, I took on all the cooking for my family, and would often be seen cooking for my own family, as well as cooking for the guests that we had stay, who would always compliment me and pay for the cooking. Each night I seemed to be exhausted, but it was worth it.

And as the years passed, I got more and more attached to my brother. We both wanted to make life easier on our parents, and tried every way we could. Often at night, once all the chores were done, I would sneak over to his bed and make him scoot over for me, to talk about the future and our dreams. In my mind, we were going to build a grand house for our mother and father, allowing them to have an easy life where they had to do nothing and they would always be cared for. A life without poverty. That was my dream.

It was a short time after that when it happened. I was thirteen, and when my brother was out hunting, bandits entered our inn. Before father could even reach for his bow, they killed him. I had been in my brother and I's bedroom when I heard my mothers scream. I ran for my door, only in time to see my mother slaughtered before my eyes. Though I wanted to scream, I didn't. I wanted to run to her, but I had seen enough death in animals to know that she was dead. There was nothing I could do, and instead I crawled underneath my bed, shocked by what I had just witnessed. While they rooted around in our house and stole everything of value, I curled up under the bed, wrapped my arms around my legs and tried to keep quiet, even with the tears streaming down my face. They came into our bedroom, but only stayed a moment before they left.

Instead of leaving my safe spot once they left, I continued to huddle there, the sobs racking at my body. It took hours for my sobs to subdue, but tears still streamed from my eyes. I don't know how I even had any more to cry, but I was so shocked by my families death, that I could do nothing but lay there, terrified to check on them. In my mind, if I stayed right where I was, it hadn't happened, and they were still alive.

My brother found me there. I couldn't even talk, just remained frozen while I stared at him. Instead of asking for me to come out, he crawled underneath the bed and held me while I cried again. Eventually I tried to tell him what had happened, which only caused me to cry more. I clung to him that entire night, terrified to let him go for fear that he would somehow be taken away as well. We stayed there the entire night, and eventually I fell asleep there, clinging to my brother.

Soon after we were taken to a place called Honorhall Orphanage. I hated it there from the beginning. The lady in charge, Grelod the Kind, was the meanest woman I had ever met. Still mourning the death of my parents and tormented by seeing their death, I had horrible dreams, sometimes of seeing them once again, to being killed myself. Often times I would wake up screaming or in a cold sweat. Whenever I did, I would kick off my blankets and sneak over to where my brother slept to sleep with him, taking some comfort for him being there. My personality changed dramatically after that. I became withdrawn and reserved, haunted still by that one event and adjustment to the orphanage didn't go very well. I got in trouble often for that, and yet my brother would always take the beatings that were meant for me. He was my champion then, and I continued to cling to him as close friend.

I was torn between wanting my brother to cause her as much discomfort as possible and not wanting him to get hurt, but I didn't try to talk him out of his insolent attitude toward her. Until my life had been changed, I had never thought of hating anyone. I hated her almost as much as I hated the bandits that had killed my family, and would never respond when she talked to me. Instead, I would stare at her, allowing her to see my hatred. I finally learned to stop glaring at her, as it would give my brother more beatings, and would hang my head so she couldn't see my expression. Inside I burned with my hatred for her.

It was about a year later that my brother started to sneak out. Though I never heard him, whenever I had a nightmare and sought to cuddle up to him for the night, I would find him missing. I was always scared that she would find out and hurt him, but she never did. I didn't question what he brought home, but I hoped that he would be alright and wouldn't get hurt with whatever it was.

The day he left me was the first day I cried since that night after the murder. I was fifteen at the time, and was terrified that I would never see him again. But...he said he would come back, and I could do nothing but believe him. The time apart was the worst in my life. Grelod the Kind was even happier to cause trouble for me, since my brother had caused her so much trouble in his time there. She would give me much more work than the other children, even less food, and would beat me at any opportunity. I often cried myself to sleep, or moved to the bed my brother had previously occupied to get some comfort, begging for him to come and get me like he had said he would. He came to visit like he had said, and every time he did I would throw myself into his arms and cling to him.

It didn't take him long to finally come to take me away for good. By that time though, the damage had already been done. Seeing my parents slaughtered and her cruel treatment had caused me to become completely withdrawn from my previously happy and outgoing self. It took an entire year to try and undue what she had done to me, and even then I couldn't quite be the girl I had been before. Brief glimpses would lend themselves, but I would always end up remembering. And of course, the dreams still bothered me, and still do to this day.

My brother even managed to get us a house, and it's...beautiful. I've never had a finer house, nor thought we would get one so grand, and I am so thankful every day that I have my brother with me. I picked back up my Alchemy training, and for the past two years I have managed to outdo the other Alchemy store and usually people are more likely to buy potions and items from me than the other store, finding mine superior. I spent much of my time outdoors collecting things I need, cooking, or I'll go to the docks, stick my feet in the water and relax. The dog that Alek bought me remains my constant companion, and I named him Recon, who follows me everywhere. Life in Riften is much different from Ivarsted...but it's a good thing. There's too many memories in Ivarsted, and I'm not sure I ever want to go back there. Alek seems to support us just by hunting. He must have gotten even better with a bow than he was before.

Right?



Fast Healing - Heals the caster 50 points per second.

Healing Hands - Heals an ally ten points per second

Character Name.
Aaralyn Aranga

Age.
Eighteen

Race.
Bosmer/Wood Elf

Sexuality.
Heterosexual

Faction, Army, or Allegiance.
Neutral

Occupation.
Alchemist

Werewolf or Vampire.
N/A

Major Skills.