The Elder Scrolls: Tamriel

A rugged, imposing Nord vampire with a frame built like a siege ram—broad, heavy, and unapologetically brutal. His pale, weathered skin is marred by old battle scars and fresh bloodstains, worn like medals of honor rather than blemishes. His hair is a mane of coarse, ash-blond tied into a rough warrior’s tail, and his crimson eyes burn with barely contained fury. He favors heavy armor styled in dark iron and blood-red accents, more practical than ceremonial, often dented from use rather than age. A massive two-handed axe rests across his back, its blade blackened with old gore. Orthjolf doesn’t walk—he stomps, and the sound of his boots through Volkihar Keep is often enough to make lesser vampires step aside.

Orthjolf is proud, blunt, and aggressive, with little patience for politics or pretense. He speaks with a gravelly roar, never asking when he can demand, never yielding when he can challenge. He despises elves—especially Vingalmo—and considers magic a crutch for the weak. He believes true leadership comes from strength, not scheming, and that Lord Harkon has grown too obsessed with prophecy and theatrics to properly lead the clan. Despite his violent outlook, Orthjolf respects warriors of merit, regardless of bloodline or background, and values loyalty to the clan—so long as it’s returned. To him, vampirism is a weapon, not a religion. Many dismiss him as a brute, but Orthjolf is not stupid. He understands power—how it’s gained, how it’s held, and how quickly it can be taken. In a court full of whispers and poisoned goblets, Orthjolf is the one sharpening his axe in plain sight—and daring anyone to stop him.

A former warlord from the icy northern reaches of Skyrim, Orthjolf sought out the Volkihar Clan not for refuge, but for power. Turned willingly after besting a vampire emissary in single combat, he embraced undeath as the next step in his dominance. Though unfamiliar with magic, Orthjolf’s raw strength and fearlessness quickly earned him a place in the inner court—though not without friction. His crude demeanor, disdain for elven customs, and open contempt for spellcasters made him a polarizing figure. His rivalry with the refined and manipulative Vingalmo has become the stuff of whispered jokes and tense silences, their ideological clash—might versus cunning—representing a deep schism in the vampire hierarchy. Orthjolf has no illusions about subtlety; he wants to be Lord of Volkihar, and he makes no effort to hide it.