Overview:

The stronghold of Blackrose in central Black Marsh serves many purposes - remote fortress, bastion of Imperial influence in a hostile land, stronghold of the finest Imperial Legion soldiers well-versed in fighting insurgencies and guerrillas, and notorious prison to which few have been sent and from which fewer have ever escaped. For centuries, it has served the Empire, keeping the pirates and tribal elders who plotted treachery away from the public eye. But through the mechanisms of Imperial politics, a moving wheel on a restless axle, you have been sent there, as well, for undescribed reasons unknown to everyone except the person who recommended that you be sent there, whose name is struck from the records as word of your escape spreads...

Can you work with, or perhaps against, your comrades who have escaped with you, or will you try and escape the hostile wilderness and alien jungles of Black Marsh alone? Will you be able to reach the border of Cyrodiil, when the second part of your mission shall begin?

Character Generation:

You can include whatever extra information you want about your character, but be sure to include the following as well:

Name (their name and title, e.g. Ashkhan Ashina Zelaku)

Race (their race and cultural/tribal group, e.g. Dunmer Ashlander)

Expert-Master Skills (the skills which they are either an expert or a master in)

Novice-Journeyman Skills (the skills not mentioned in the category above)

Reason for Imprisonment (why were they imprisoned - false evidence, political rivalry, assassination, theft?)

Ok, this looks cool

Name: Markus Ulavi

Race: Dunmer

Expert-Master Skills: Stealth (Security and sneak), Light Weapons (Daggers, shortswords, and maces)

Novice-Journeyman Skills: Athletics (Sprinting and swimming), Cooking (Alchemy), Emo Power!

Reason for Imprisonment: Aw geez, long list of total charges: Theft, Larceny, Grand Larceny, Slander, Murder, Attempted Murder, Conspiracy to Commit Murder, Sabotage, Embezzlement, Home Invasion, Arson, Assault, Assault with a deadly weapon (it was a turkey leg, actually), Public Indecency, Harrasment, and some things unspeakable to our younger forumers.

Hot stuff. I'm totally in.

NAME: Dolan Fausti

RACE: Imperial

APPEARANCE: Light brown hair. Middle age complexion. Uncontrolled beard from 2 years of imprisonment. Rough, weak voice.

PERSONALITY: Avoids large gatherings. An alcoholic, but alert and quick on his toes. An "independent" necromancer; began reviving the dead for murder and theft without all the mess. Cannot sleep well. In spare time, makes flashy (but useless) spells.

EXPERT-MASTER SKILLS: Conjuration, Restoration

NOVICE-JOURNEYMAN SKILLS: Acrobatics, Mysticism

REASON FOR IMPRISONMENT: Assault, Murder, Theft, Part-time Daedra worship, Necromancy. Was caught in the act of removing some bodies from a lightly guarded earl's burial grounds. Will never buy cheap illusion scrolls ever again.

Yay, people!

I'll make my own character, then.

Name: Ashkhan Ashina Zelaku

Race: Dunmer Ashlander

Expert-Master Skills: Conjuration, Destruction, Illusion, Marksman, Blade, Alchemy, Light Armour

Novice-Journeyman Skills: Every other skill

Reason for Imprisonment: Where do I start...? Trading Dwemer artifacts, trading ebony, treason, conspiracy to murder, assault, murder, ethnic cleansing, genocide, supporting extralegal entities, owning slaves, piracy, and theft. Fighting a guerrilla war in Cyrodiil when the Imperial Legion garrisons in Morrowind were too busy trying to stop the civil war between the Houses and their mercenaries to try and stop her.

Alright here we are:

Name: Vahn Rotori

Race: Imperial

Expert-Master Skills: Blade, lock picking, athletics, hand to hand, block, light armour (leather)

Novice-Journeyman Skills: Marksman, sneak, acrobatics

Reason for Imprisonment: conspiracy to commit murder, assault, murder, theft, sabotage, arson, slander, home invasion

Ok Then,

Name: The NipCaper

Race: Unknown

Expert-Master Skills: Stealth and the rest is Unknown

Novice-Journeyman Skills: Unknown

Reason for Imprisonment: Wasn't imprisoned by anyone. He snuck in!

Uh, I think we would kind of need to know your race...
I'm guessing that Gallowglass would agree with me...


On a completely different topic... Gallowglass would you like us to also put in physical descriptions and bios for our characters?

It would be impossible to know the race of a person that nobody knows or has ever seen. It's a mystery as to who or what The NipCaper is. All they know is that it is very stealthy. Once a note was left behind with a signature, that is all. This character will add an element to this story as it progresses. oo:

I don't mind. As long as you include some basic details what you put is up to you.



As long as you know what you're doing, that's okay. But trust me, having a character on their own gets boring after a while. I did it in the other RP, the novelty wears off.

Anyway, if no-one else joins, we can begin RPing soon. Feel free to start now, actually - others can join when they want

this looks like it could be good

Name:Korag Gro-Orkul

Race:Orc (born in orsinium)

Expert-Master Skills:axe marksman stealth

Novice-Journeyman Skills:all the rest

Reason for Imprisonment:robbed a caravan heading for anvil and killed everyone in it(with help of course)

OOC:


But it's kinda unrealistic, ain't it? It goes pretty far, and it makes you very godlike. Also, you say you'll add an element to the story as it progresses? I'm going to assume Gallowglass is allowing this, he hasn't interfered yet.

IC:

"Wake up, Dolan."

Talking to himself as per his usual routine every morning (much to the chagrin of neighboring prisoners), Dolan Fausti rose from his cot. "Come on, come on, get up. There we go," he muttered, rising slowly and feeling his back ache. "Come on, boy, still some kick, still some kick in this corpse. You've got all day, boy, all day. Dinner might get here soon. It's Morndas, right? Or Friedas? Not sure. Maybe porridge today, not the usual bread. Oh, the spiders are jumpy this morning, yes they are..."

Dolan's raspy voice slowly faded as he gathered up more consciousness. He looked around his cell and again took on his dreary, quiet appearance as he scratched his thinning hair. There was the right side wall, which was occupied and kept dungeonlike by the spiders. The left wall appeared to have inherited scratches from the previous tenant, Khajiit by the size of the marks. Ahead were the bars ("Eleven, eleven as usual, always eleven, isn't that repetitive..."), which were slightly bent and crooked. Despite many desperate tries on the first year, Dolan finally realized the uselessness of trying to reach out for the outer halls, which proved to hold him no closer to freedom than he already was. Behind him was the final wall and the hole. The infamous hole, forever Dolan's enemy. The stench oozing out of it, the feeling that eventually it would be full, drew Dolan to feverish nightmares. It was the only sanitary place for Dolan to do his business, but the hole was all that he had. Despite two years of being jailed, he never truly knew or understood why he hadn't gotten used to it. Dolan meekly observed that his surroundings would never really changed and pondered the grand, vast eternity that would be his stay in Blackrose.

"Dolan, get back to bed."

OOC:This is moving kinda slowly dont ya think

IC:''Hey orc get up,i cant get a clear shot at your ribs if your down!''Korag didnt want to get up but out of pride he pulled his battered body off the stone floor and turned to face the guard,he had been beaten all night after telling the guard he was going to break his nose.''Come on you you tan skined freak,that all you got''said Korag feeling some blood come up from his lungs as he said it.
''your not very smart are you''the guard grumbled before throwing a punch at Korag.But Korag,even though he was sore and bloody,dodged it and landed a punch of his own into the guards nose,breaking it but not knocking out the guard as he hoped,infact the guard hadnt even flinched he just stood there looking at Korag furiously.Trying to hide his panic Korag simply answered the stare with ''I told you i was gona break that nose''the guard returned the favor and hit the Orc square in the nose putting him unconcious

He awoke in his cell and strangely enough he felt numb....then he started to move and he could feel every single ounce of pain he had ever suffered come back to him.
Korag was to injured.He couldnt speak,he couldnt even think.He just sat there in pain and hoped some one would come by that would heal him.....

OOC:Not good by any stretch of the imagination but we need to get the ball rolling

This looks like fun I'm in.

Name: Link Zilla (Shadow Crawler)
Race: Dunmer
Expert/Master skills: Sneak, Blade.
Novice/Journeyman skills: Journeyman: Light armor, security, achemy, acrobatics, marksman and athletics.
All the rest either Apprentice or novice.
Reason for imprisonment: Assassination, theft and littering. (This is a major crime...)

IC: In the depths of the shadows awaits The Nipcaper. He was sent here by no one, but has his own agenda. It was fairly easy for this fellow to sneak past the guards, as he is well versed in the art of deception and disguise. He is a quiet man, not speaking to anyone and if he did it was a few words at best. What did he want here? Was he after someone or something? He himself was trying to figure out if this was all worth it. "Why break into a place that so many are trying to escape from?' he thought. It seem kind of strange in away, but that's what drives him. He sees a patrol of three to four guards approching. Probably making their rounds to check on the vile scum that inhabit these damp moldy cells. He steps back further into the shadows as not to be seen. If he were to be found, he could easily dispose of them not leaving a trace of evidence behind. He never liked confrontation though. He uses the element of surprise to his advantage. He waits, alone in the shadows, thinking of his next move.

OOC: Sorry, I forgot about this thread. I've bookmarked it now, though.

And it's absolutely fine to have a mysterious character, as long as the creator has a clear idea of what that character will do which cannot be changed by what other characters end up doing, and as long as they have most of the same problems as everyone else's character will.

IC: The door slid open, with the high-pitched scream of old, rusted iron against stone. The door was relatively new to the prison, although it had seen decades of service in some castle, as far as Ashina could tell from the coat-of-arms that some Imperial guard had made some attempt to smooth with a coin to the point where it could no longer be recognised. As a result, it still didn't fit into the notches made by the last door's constant scraping against the stone, and needed to wear down the rock to make it slide open seamlessly.
The voice of the guard was muffled through the spider silk tapestry that Ashina had made, as he tapped his gauntlet on the bars behind it.
"Wake up, Dunmer," the Argonian tribesman hissed, taking obvious pleasure at having power over an infamous slaver, as he did every morning. He woke Ashina at dawn, and, when his rounds gave him the luxury, in the middle of the night, to remind her of the fact that she was now imprisoned. But Ashina had a trick of her own. She was already awake, and interrupted the Argonian before he could continue with his torrent of insults.
"Sujamma, snake, sujamma! Does the snake want sujamma?" she enthusiastically exclaimed, lifting her bottle of the finest Dunmeri drink to her mouth and, against a brief interruption by her sanity, drank what was, in reality, nothing but old water - the thing that the Argonian had come to replace. He worked out what had happened, and laughed at Ashina's insanity, almost as much as she did.
"You never did have a taste for drinks, did you? I've never seen you drink anything but swamp mud since you arrived here, ashkhan!" He walked off briskly, not unnerved but not wanting to spend any more time in the company of a mad Daedra-worshipper. That was perfect, as far as Ashina was concerned. She was free to try and contact Mephala through spiders for the rest of the day.

Name: Ethrador

Race: Bosmer

Appearance: Slightly taller than your average Bosmer standing at 5ft7/8, is quite slim but has definded muscles on his body from regular exercise(Although these have gone away since being in Blackrose). Has his hair in a small neat ponytail so his hair doesn't get in his face. Is currently at the age of 32.

Personality: Used to be very kind man but since being in prison has turned into an angry man who is often full of rage, but nonetheless when calm he is a nice guy who is up for conversation. He can be a bit niave about certain things which have led to bad expierence's and could make people see him as cocky. Ethrador is always aware of his surroundings and often notice's everything going on in the area and then starts to think about it. Before he settled in with his wife, he was a hunter who hunted Deer for food and other creatures such as Bear's for sport. This gave him the skill's to be sneaky and good with a bow, but also gave him physical strength so he can still stand his ground reasonably well in 1-to-1 combat.

Expert-Master Skills: Marksmanship, Sneak and Security

Novice-Journeyman Skills: Alchemy, Short Blades and Light Armor

Reason for Imprisonment: When Ethrador's wife was doing a late night maid shift in the Bravil Castle she got [censored] by the Count of Bravil's son as he was high on skooma when she was cleaning his room, but he didn't kill her, he just left her outside the castle, she returned home to Ethrador and after hearing the Story he murdered the Count and his son, doing absoloutly disgusting things to them, however he was caught whilst slitting the Count's throat and laughing manically whilst doing so, he was then transported to Blackrose in Blackmarsh, the Prison which held the deadliest of criminals and was known for containing Pirates and Argonian tribe elders. He was taken there without even being able to say goodbye to his wife, his goal is to get out of prison and be with her again. Before He was put into the Blackrose Prison Ethrador was a kind and friendly man who loved his wife very much and planned to have a child with her soon, but since he has been in the prison he has changed, he is often angry and full of rage, he can never stop thinking about his wife and it infuriates me that he cannot be with her. He also hate's anyone who uses skooma, after the expierence with the Count's son.


IC:

Ethrador was awoken from his sleep by the sound of an old heavy door screeching open, the sound of the high pitched screech always made him cringe, damn I'll never get used to that [censored] sound every morning, Ethrador thought as he sat up washing his face with the dirty water in the bowl next to his bedroll. He cringed his face once more at the foul smell of Mice Urine that he could smell just a few feet away from him, ''Do they ever clean these places at all?'', Ethrador said to himself quietly, he soon realized the fact that he was in possibly the toughest prison in Tamriel so keeping the cell's clean and smelling beautiful was proberbly not one of the Jailor's concerns.

As he ate his left over food from last night's meal, Ethrador listened to the 'chat' going on between the Argonian Guard and the slightly insane Dunmer in the cell to his right, he let out a chuckle as he saw the Argonian briskly walking off, ''aww is the big tough guard scared of the little Dunmer? Well I guess your used to being frightened of Dunmer and trying to get away from them''. The Argonian shook his head and gave Ethrador evil looks, ''Ooh you asked for it treehugger, I'm gonna knock all that cheek right out of you'', the large sized Argonian opened the cell and slowly walked towards Ethrador rubbing his gauntlets together, before the Argonian landed his first punch Ethrador made a comment that enraged the guard even more, '' Well at least it's you giving the beatings this time, you need to know what it's like to give people a taste of their own medicine'', and with that comment the Argonian landed a right hook straight into the Bosmer's cheek, then a hard jab into the mouth, at this point Ethrador coughing up blood and a tooth fell out, his stomach was exposed and the Argonian booted him in his stomach up to 5 times which winded Ethrador greatly and had him gasping for breath, the Argonian finished off the beating with a stomp on the head, the helpless Bosmer was out cold.

5 hours later Ethrador awoke, his right cheek was swolen, he had lost at least 4 teeth, his face and upper-torso were covered in blood, he had a cut on his forehead and he had a thumping headache, he grasped his head to try and stop the thumping and took a sip from his water to try and get rid of the taste of blood from his mouth. Ethrador had seen how prisoner's were treated in Cyrodill, the prisoner's could get away with a warning for insulting guards, guess that was not the way it worked over in Blackmarsh. Ethrador glanced over to the cell opposite him, he saw a Redguard who looked back at him shaking his head as to say, ''What in Oblivion were you thinking''? Ethrador actually agreed with him, he got cocky to someone he didn't know and was a fool to think he could act like he did in a place he had never been. He pledged to himself that he would never do anything like that again, EVER. He had a taste of what the hard and tough world is really like.

Dolan observed the morning routine, hanging lazily from the bars of his cell. The guards were handing out the daily beatings.

Korag was first, a favorite victim of the early morning guard, but he hadn't heard such a good display before. Despite being beside him in the cells, Dolan could still hear the crunch of the Orc's fist against the guard and the almost innocent phrase afterwards. He lightly clapped and mumbled a meek "Good show". This spared Dolan of HIS beating, but it also meant that the breakfast would have to arrive later. But hunger was a better alternative to another bruised face.

Then came the Argonian guard, who always stopped by to trade insulting remarks with the Ashbourne. "Heh. Ashina Ashbourne," he always said, a catchy ring in his voice. When she arrived a few weeks after him across from his cell, he wondered why she was spared the beatings. He'd seen another woman in Blackrose get beaten before. Maybe the Argonian had some weird, twisted thing for her. But Dolan didn't trust her from the start. It was the spiders, the damned spiders. Dolan had the good ettiquette to only talk to himself, but the Dunmer girl would always ramble on with the spiders. Despite that, he always noticed that she seemed to be listening to whatever the spiders had to say. Like a true conversation. Dolan could only belt out the occasional light spell or two, thanks to the magicka draining cuffs; but was she talking to more than just spiders? What with the cuffs, that could be impossible... unless the spiders were the ones talking. "But which Daedra was the one with the spiders, again?" he said a little too loudly, and Ashina gave him a quick and suspicious look.

The Argonian passed on towards Ethrador, who seemed to incite more rage from him than Ashina normally did. The beatings were quite extraordinary for their strength and Dolan always hid while they occured. Dolan may have been a gravedigging necromancer, but this was too much.

Finally came another guard passing by, different from the one that beat up Korag and Dolan each morning. He walked briskly to Dolan's cell and carefully opened it, looking at him with an odd mix of disgust, hatred, and pity. "So, scum, ready for breakfast?" he asked.

Dolan briskly noted that he didn't hold any breakfast in his hands and said nothing as the first punch collided with his chest. He fell down quickly and cringed, leaving the guard with nothing to do but kick him feebly a few times. He had gotten bored and walked off, taking some crumbs out of his pocket and throwing them at the floor before he left.

Dolan looked at the crumbs for a while, still visibly sore and breathing heavily. It was strange; a lot of the inmates were rowdy and insulting to the guards, knowing full well that it would only get them another beating or no food for three days. Even Ethrador, who had some sort of justice behind his crimes, was swearing and shouting all day. And the guards? Weren't they supposed to serve justice or something? Their whims and perverted behaviors got in the way, however. This was the state of things.

"Nothing like a cold, smelly dungeon to make everyone act like prudes," he shouted to everyone, leaving them to think about what kind of a headcase he really was.

Name: Beeleez-Ra

Race: Argonian

Expert-Master Skills: Blade, heavy armor, armorer

Novice-Journeyman Skills: Athletics

Reason for Imprisonment: Falsely accused of murder of a tavern keeper

History: Beeleez-Ra was trained as a warrior since he could walk. He was exceptionally well trained in swordsmanship. His skills were almost legendary in Black Marsh. Beeleez-Ra was granted a spot in the Blackwood company, but the leader feared that Beeleez-Ra would steal the title, so he prayed to the NightMother to kill him. While Beeleez-Ra was in a tavern in Anvil, a Dark Brotherhood member walked in, and sat down. There was a drunken orc and the brotherhood saw his chance to kill Beeleez-Ra. The assassin punched the orc in the face and all the tavern patrons broke out into a fist fight. The tavern keeper, a Nord, was pushed backed and knocked over Beeleez-Ra. As they went tumbling over, the assassin, who managed to get up onto the second floor, shot an arrow, killing the nord. When news that guards were coming, everyone made a run for it. Beeleez-Ra, however, did not make it and was thrown into prison.

personality: Has a hard time trusting people


IC: Beeleez-Ra looked around the place that was once his home, the place he has risked his life for on a regular basis, at until the incident. He sighed as the bars kept him from his family. His cellmate woke up, grunted and chuckled a little. "Hehe, you're the [censored] who got me sent to this place. I was at the tavern too. I owe you a pounding." He laughed again and got up. He threw his fist at Beeleez-Ra. Beeleez-Ra ducked, grabbed the orcs wrist and snapped it. The orc howled in pain. Beeleez-Ra then swung his tail and knocked the orc back onto his bunk.
"Please, orc, you're no match for me. Just stay down." But that's when a guard decided to walk by. The guard saw the fight and opened the cell door.
"Hey, knock it off! You! Kinsman, follow me ." Beeleez-Ra grumbled and walked out into the hall. He followed the guard, and just watched the others in paranoia. He heard someone shout about the smelly dungeons. Beeleez-Ra shook his head. This is going to svck, he thought grimly to himself. His ears picked up something odd, like spiders were all over the place. He followed the sound. He looked into a cell and saw a dunmer. He knocked on the cell door. For some reason, he felt as if he could trust this particular dunmer. Maybe its because he knew that this dunmer was as insane as the other prisoners. Or maybe its because he had something in common with this dunmer. The guard smiled. He unlocked the cell door and kicked Beeleez-Ra into the cell. Beeleez-Ra fell into the cell. The door was quickly shut and relocked. Beeleez-Ra sat down, and just stared at the dunmer.

OOC: Hope this is ok with you, Gallowglass...

OOC: It's fine. There aren't that many rules in this RP - everyone's character is theirs. Just don't OP.

IC: "Ruhnrielle, av dunfoyada frensca, ye fal fell bala. Daedra hilyat, sou silaseli shanta sunna. Sa lor Moriche av sancre Chimer, sancre Resdayn av lor Morrowind, abamafre, abasel, abaarania, abaaldmerisiaya, racuvar, racuvar, Cyrodsel," Ashina chanted, when each one of the spider's eyes were fixed on her. The red glint of her own reflected in the shiny black of his, the torchlight behind her setting both their eyes on fire. "Home's beauty, of cursed rivers of fire foaming, and snow city power. Daedra follow me, your shining halls come blessed. So dark Dunmer from golden Chimer, golden Resdayn to dark Morrowind, forbidden frost, forbidden hall, forbidden kings, your forbidden ancestors, cast down, cast down, the halls of Cyrodiil."
The spider scurried away when Ashina got to her feet, releasing the fire salts from her grip, letting them fall to the floor before she trod them into the ground.

IC:
Beeleez-Ra's eyes widen in amazement as the dunmer spoke in a daedric. He flicked his tail and smiled in glee. So this was the reason he felt he could could trust her. She was a daedric worshiper, like himself. He watched the spiders scurry and laughed. He looked back at the dunmer. He hoped he could make her his friend. The last time Beeleez-Ra had a friend was back when he was a hatch ling, until he found the book of daedra. "I see you are one of us. Which daedric prince or princess do you worship? I worship Vaermina. Oh, I'm Beeleez-Ra. What do the others call you?" He was definitely hoping to make friends with a fellow daedric worshiper.

IC:

Ethrador had been trying to heal himself from the beating earlier but nothing seemed to work, his headache had gone and he managed to stop the bleeding from his forehead but his cheek was still swolen. Whilst he was healing himself Ethrador could not take his mind of his wife, everyday he missed her and regreted taking such a foolish action on the Count and his son. ''Why am I so [censored] stupid?! Why didn't I listen to her? Why didn't I just go to The Imperial City with her and complain to the Council like she said? But no my anger takes over me once again and this time [censored]s up both our lives!'' Ethrador said this louder than he intended to whilst punching the wall, the whole Prison must of heard however he was not worried of people thinking he is odd talking to himself because he could hear Dolan muttering to himself all the time and would hear the insane Dunmer to his right chanting Daedric words to the spiders, which personally creeped out Ethrador a little.

After about half an hour of laying on the dirty floor Ethrador heard a rowdy Orc saying something to an Argonian in the same cell about him getting him put in jail and started to try and beat him up, it made Ethrador happy when he saw the Argonian break the Orc's wrist, Oh how I love it when the bully gets beaten up Ethrador thought to himself after hearing the Orc howl in pain, however he found it odd that the Argonian Guard, the same one who gave Ethrador his horrific beating, had ordered his kinsman to move cell's as he was only defending himself. Ethrador felt very sorry for the Argonian prisoner as he was put into the cell next to him with the crazy Dunmer, he felt especially sorry for him as she was in the middle of her chants to the spiders, by Y'ffre will this woman just shut her mouth for once or speak normally Ethrador thought to himself. Ethrador raised his eyebrow's in suprise as he heard the Argonian say he was a fellow Daedric Worshipper and worshiped Vaermina, Ethrador didn't know much about Daedra Lords but he had heard some stories about Vaermina and they certainly were not nice, he thought he might try to avoid this Argonian even though he seemed reasonbly sane he didn't want to risk anything. One thing that worried Ethrador is that if the Dunmer and the Argonian made friends he might have to put up with both their nonsense throughout the day, that would surely drive him mad.

As the Argonian Guard was walking back from his inspection he throw a stone at Ethrador to get his attention, ''Gah what was that for?'' Ethrador asked with a hint of pain in his voice, ''Don't think I have forgotten about your remarks to me, anymore of those and you will find yourself in the Blackrose Arena'' was the Argonians reply, Ethrador was thinking of saying something but thought better of it and instead just nodded, he was very confused though about this arena, he never saw any arena as he was being taken into the prison, although he definatly knew that being sent there would be certain death so he decide not to enrage the guards. His whole of expierence of the beating from the Argonian Guard made Ethrador realize how physically weak he was, due to the fact he was feeling a lot more rested and had slightly more energy since the beating he thought he might start working out a little in his cell with some exercises like push up's and sit up's, at least if he did this he might be able to take the pain better and also would increase his confidence plus if he was ever forced to fight in this arena he may be in shape for it. After he ate his last piece of meat Ethrador started to do some exercise's hoping it will benefit him.

Ashina turned around, wrapping her shawl around her. Her spider silk top was cut down the middle, and a wind blew under the door when she turned to face it. She stood there, staring into the Argonian's eyes as if considering how much she should say. She had to force herself to say anything, but a little missionary work wouldn't have done any harm, so she answered his questions.
"Azura, Lady of the Dawn and the Dusk, Protector of the Moon-and-Star, who taught my ancestors the mysteries needed to be different from decadent Aldmeri stock, as my chief mistress and teacher. Boethiah, Lady of Treason, guardian of the overthrow of authority, who defeated Trinimac when he and his followers stood opposed to the Chimeri Exodus, as my military advisor and inspiration in battle. She and Azura have taught the Chimer, and still teach the Dunmer, many things, from magic to architecture. Mephala, of murder, six, and secrets, who organised the clans into the Tribes and Houses, and who keeps the peace through noble institutions such as the Morag Tong and her worshippers, as my advisor on subterfuge and assassination, and the arts of guerrilla warfare. And my name is Ashkhan Ashina Zelaku, treason artist." She said the whole grand speech in a polished accent, as if she'd said it a thousand times, adding on the new occupation she had given herself at the end.

OOC: Hello everyone!
Time to do some RP'in.

Name: Zi'jar

Race: Khajiit

Expert-Master Skills: Spear, Traps, Throwing Axes, Illusion Magic

Novice-Journeyman Skills: Alchemy, Interrogation (I hope skills that aren't in-game available are okay as long as they aren't unrealistic? )

Reason For Imprisonment: A hired hand, so to speak, Zi'Jar has commited multiple assassinations over the years, for political and non-politcal agendas.

IC:

Battered and bruised, Zi'jar was being led down a long, winding staircase, each step a constant reminder of his failure. He had never imagined he'd be here, let alone never hoped to see the place. He slowly moved his feet from step to step, and as the guards got impatient, he was thrown to the ground, accompanied by a swift kick in the ribs, and was dragged the rest of the way. Torchlight from the walls did little to illuminate his surroundings, but by his estimates, he was going to the dungeon.

Lucky, lucky me.

His escorts and himself reached the bottom of the staircase; his body, which seemed more like a corpse at the time, finally came to rest. With his little bit of strength left, he hoisted his head up, and observed the long, seemingly-endless hallway of cells. Seeing this, he dropped his head again.

After a bit of debating, the guards decided which cell he should be put in, and started the walk down the hallway. He passed an argonian, a dunmer, and then blacked out.

OOC: Welcome to Blackrose - it's a lovely holiday resort in the swamps, with an emphasis on security.

IC: "By Azura, by Azura, by Azura! Another one? Another tribesman?" Ashina cackled. "And that guard ranted on about how my guerrilla war was pointless!" She ran over to the bars, tearing down her own curtain and ramming into the steel with her entire body weight, then pulling at them with wild laughter as the guards marched past. "You guards almost look Argonian in the heat! Filthy little n'wah. Go on, take him to his prison, look in the mirror. I have one in here with me, if you...want me to hold it up to the bars!"
"I'll be back for you, Dunmer," the guard nearest Ashina warned. "That guard you mentioned has reported your actions to the prison governor's assistant, who happens to be an Argonian, and he hasn't taken kindly to your words."
"He hasn't taken kindly to the prison being built on his tribal lands, either!" Ashina screamed. "I'll be able to persuade him! I've done it before, and I can do it again! Until my trial, I am free!"
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," the guard grunted, signalling to the others to walk on. Ashina cried after him as he followed them.
"Peace and Enlightenment to the East! Uriel, Hai Resdaynia! I'll be sin' ya, n'wah!" The guard was ignoring her, and Ashina backed down, slithering back into the darkness of her prison, pleased by the true insanity of what she'd just said, and the freedom that being in prison had afforded her.
Before, she had an image. Here, she could be anyone. She was who she was, of course. But the Imperials didn't know that.

Zi'jar awoke slowly, pain lancing up his side. He lifted up his dirty red shirt and observed his multiple bruises. He had a few cuts as well, no doubt from the guards who brought him here. As he lifted his head up, he noticed his cold, damp surroundings in his small cell. He imagined that he could quite possibly never see the light of day again.

Suddenly, he heard a voice down the hall. A woman, from the sound of it, but he couldn't discern a race.

Half-coughing, he cried out.

"Hello? Who is that?"