GENERAL INFO.

Full Name: Erebien the Swift
Aliases: N/A
Gender and Pronouns: Cis Male; He/Him
Place of Birth: Windhelm, Skyrim
Heritage: Dunmer
Date of Birth: 26th Midyear, 4E 172
Age: 29
Parents:

• Vorandryn Famssen (Father, Estranged)
• Tenalyn Fenran (Mother, Deceased)

Allergies: N/A
Addictions: N/A
Mental Conditions/Disorders: N/A
Physical Conditions/Disorders: N/A

APPEARANCE INFO.

Features: Hollowed, angular features, with deep-set and darkened eyes and pointed ears. Minimal facial hair in the form of a rough five o'clock shadow.
Voice Claim: Jesse Rutherford
Eye Color: Silver
Hair Color: Black
Hairstyle: Disheveled, grown in undercut with remnants of a faded style.
Build: Lean and athletic, with light muscle definition and a notable inverted triangle shape.
Height: 5 feet and 9 inches (approx. 175 cm)
Weight: 142 pounds (approx. 64 kg)

SOCIAL INFO.

Connections:

• Dark Brotherhood (Allies; Underlings (Verse Dependent))

Relationship Status: Single
Sexuality: Bisexual

MISC. INFO

Alongside Common, Erebien speaks Dunmeri.

Erebien looked up to Astrid and her husband more than anybody else within the Brotherhood, so his death and her ultimate betrayal of the Brotherhood hit him hard.

BACKGROUND.

Erebien’s life began in the shadowed, poverty-stricken alleys of Windhelm's "Grey Quarters"—a district where the destitute, marginalized, and downtrodden of the city were pushed into a life of constant struggle. Growing up, he rarely saw his mother, as she was forced to juggle multiple menial jobs just to scrape together enough coin to keep them fed and housed. His mother had dreams of a better life for them, but exhaustion soon wore away her hope. Her smile was an infrequent guest, one that only surfaced when she could momentarily set aside her worries. In those rare moments, Erebien would try to push his hunger aside and simply enjoy her company, but he was always keenly aware of her fatigue. She loved him dearly, but that love could not sustain both of them in a city that offered no mercy. His father, once an adventurer, had disappeared years ago, leaving nothing behind but stories of his bravery and untold riches. But those tales felt more like cruel jokes to Erebien, an impossible hope he clung to as a child, only to have it erode as the years wore on.

As such, from an early age, Erebien learned to fend for himself. He didn’t have the luxury of childhood innocence or the carefree days of playing in the streets. Instead, he became a shadow of the streets—a quick hand and a sharp mind that could navigate Windhelm's gritty corners. He made a name for himself as a pickpocket, a trader of small goods, and a street-smart survivor. In some ways, this self-sufficiency became his only anchor, the only thing he could rely on in a world that seemed indifferent to his existence.

But no amount of street smarts or quick thinking could have prepared him for the night that shattered his world: The night his mother was murdered.

It was a bitterly cold evening. Erebien had been out—one of his rare nights where he dared to leave the confines of their meager home and wander the streets in search of work. When he returned, he found his door ajar, the faint sounds of drunken laughter echoing from within. At first, he thought nothing of it. But when he heard the unmistakable sound of his mother’s voice—weak, strangled, pleading—something inside him snapped. Fear became rage.

And for the first time, he let bloodlust overtake him.

Erebien didn’t hesitate, simply grabbing nearest weapon, a rusted knife, and charging into the room. The men who had broken in were Nords, their faces flushed with drunkenness, their minds clouded by whatever it was they had consumed. But to Erebien, they were nothing more than animals—mindless, violent creatures who had taken the one person he truly cared for. What he hadn’t known was that one of those men had been marked for death. By the time the last of them had fallen, his mother lay dead on the floor, her life snuffed out before he could even say goodbye.

In the chaos that followed, Erebien was forced to flee. With a bounty on his head and nowhere to run, Erebien’s world once again became a place of shadows.

It was in that darkness that he encountered Astrid. At first, he thought she was just another predator, a figure who would take advantage of his vulnerable state. But her intentions were far more complicated. Astrid, intrigued by his actions and recognizing a spark within him, kidnapped him and presented him with a choice: join the Dark Brotherhood, or die.

What followed was a trial—one of cruelty, cunning, and survival. Erebien passed, proving not only his ability to survive but his capacity to kill with cold efficiency. Astrid saw potential in him, and took him on as a prodigy. Under her watchful eye, Erebien honed his skills, learning the ways of the Brotherhood. But the years spent in the shadows of the Dark Brotherhood were not without their cost. Erebien was no longer the boy who had once lived in Windhelm’s gutters. He had become something else—someone far colder, harder, and more dangerous than he ever imagined he could be.

Yet, even in the Brotherhood, the cruelty of fate lingered. When the Empire launched its brutal assault on the Brotherhood, wiping out most of its ranks, Erebien discovered the bitter truth that Astrid had orchestrated the attack herself. Her betrayal cut deep—She had used him, manipulated him, just as she had used and manipulated the others. The woman who had once seen potential in him had now cast him aside like a tool that had outlived its usefulness.

Now, Erebien is left to rebuild the Brotherhood, alongside Nazir—the only one left who understands the weight of their shared history. But the bitterness runs deep. The lessons of his youth, the scars of his past, and the blood of his enemies all intertwine in the man he has become—a cold, calculating assassin, driven by the need to restore the Brotherhood to its former glory, and to destroy those who dared to betray him along the way.