Title: Rightful Prince of Shornhelm
A darkly handsome young man, Meldorn Lariat has a noble jaw, a strong, chisled nose and smoldering, dark-red eyes that betray the Lariat family's Dunmeri ancestor, Empress Katariah I. Meldorn Lariat chooses to wear his medium-length, jet-black hair slicked backwards neatly, though his present circumstance has left his hair shoulder-length and tangled. Normally clean shaven, at present Meldorn wears an unruly, dark beard that uncompases all his jawline. Where once his eyes would shine keenly, now they glimmer in desperation. Meldorn had been a tall, athletic young man but is now starved to little more than a skeleton. Rags are the Prince's rainment now.
In his youth in the Court of Shornhelm Meldorn had excelled at archery, jousting, fencing and wrestling, in the traditional Aldmeri-Cyro style. While not a philosopher nor a magician by any stretch of the imagination, Meldorn was a keen reader of the great strategists, owning every work by Codus Callonus, and having read Zurin Arctus' Art of War Magic more than a dozen times. His youthful delight in all things warlike led the young Meldorn into a position in command of a small cavalry division in the war with Northpoint which, marring one event, he handled excellently.
Nephew to the King of Shornhelm, the son of King Allard's younger brother Roland, Meldorn spent a happy childhood sparring with the other young princes and nobles, learning the way of the knight. Knowing that he was several rungs away from ever being King, Meldorn was happy to prove his family a Knight, and excelled in most of his studies. The only thing marring Prince Meldorn's pleasant upbringing was his rather unruly spirit. More than once when Meldorn felt he had been wronged he ended up breaking another boy's nose, or worse. Though never expected to be King, young Meldorn was groomed for the highest station. During the war with Northpoint, young Meldorn's insatiable interest in warfare would not allow his parents to leave him aside, and after a year or so's nagging, he was given command of a small detachment of Cavlery in his father's army.
Though the war was a losing one, Meldorn fought valiantly, and was ultimately captured in the Battle of White Haven, a massacre in which his father and both his brothers were killed. Meldorn was as unruly as ever as a hostage, and made many attempts to escape. When brought face to face with King Daric, Meldorn spat in the monarch's face in front of half of the nobles of Northpoint. For this, and other crimes, Meldorn was locked up in a castle deep in King Daric's domain, and was never ransomed back like most of the other nobles. As so many died in those final, dark days in the war with Northpoint, most in Shornhelm assume Prince Meldorn was executed, or fell in battle. Not a single soul in all of the conquered Kingdom know the face of Prince Meldorn. First under house arrest, and then thrown in the dungeon, Prince Meldorn is still lives, three years now a prisoner. Forgotten even by the Kingdom who holds him prisoner, taunted by his jailer, starved for weeks on end, has anyone in High Rock fallen as far as Meldorn Lariat? Yet still something keeps the Prince in rags alive.