OOC: Forget the 'wait' rules for non PvP combat. The wait rule still applies to PvP combat though, you cannot decide their fate. Remember though, you have to get hurt eventually.

Thorin sat on a rotting stump, a mile south from Skingrad. He was bored, and very tired. But also hungry. Extremely hungry. It was time for the hunt. Thorin shut off the magical enchantment in his ring, and morphed into a massive brown Werewolf, the same color as his hazel eyes. Thorin hopped off the stump, and raced into the night. It wasn't long until he found something. A small deer was nibbling at a patch of grass.

What are you doing up so late? How unfortunate... men must eat, little deer. Even Were-men. I'm sorry.
Thorin lunged forward, and sunk his claws into the animal's neck. It fell back, bleeding profusely. Dead. Thorin lifted the creature with his jaws, and soared through the air, heading towards his home, a cavern concealed by a waterfall, just east of Skingrad. But something was stirring tonight, and he didn't like the smell of it. Thorin landed on a tall branch, a good fifty feet above ground. From this vantage point he could see the action going on below. Another Werewolf, this one larger than Thorin, was standing atop an ancient Mausoleum. The beast was growling and staring at a man on ground level, who was fighting a zombie. A man, dressed in black robes was several yards from him. Probably a Necromancer. Then, Thorin realized who the first man was. A Bloodseeker, the same who he had met on the rooftops of Skingrad.
"Hey you! Need some help?" shouted Thorin, after tossing the dead deer into the wild.

Approved!

General Information

Name: Jentina
Gender: Female
Race: (Also tell if you're a vampire or werewolf) Breton/Imperial
Birthsign:(We're going by Oblivion signs for this) The Lady
Age: 22
Personality: Manipulative, Sweet, [censored]y, Seductive.


Class Information


Class name and Description (custom, if you wish) Jentina is a high-level witch. Since she is a breton, she has the obvious boosts that her race gives her.
Specialization: Magic.
Skills:(PICK ONLY THREE. No more is allowed. I will not accept character sheets with any more than three.) Destruction, Illusion, Healing.


Appearance


Height: 5'6
Weight: 118 lbs.
General Appearance: Long, wavy locks of raven. Her eyes are naturally grey but are prone to becoming green, blue or a combination of both depending on the light and her mood. Slim, softly muscular body. Keeps herself up-to-the-times, often wears top eyeliner with silver eyeshadow.



Equipment


Armor: Enchanted Witch Gown (http://fc35.deviantart.com/fs24/f/2007/357/6/9/Black_Wings_by_Fugaz_Star.jpg) minus the wings.
Weapons: Usually only a dagger.
Enchanted items: Cross on her neck (Fortifies Magicka)


Disposition


Towards the law: Lawless. (Neutral)
Towards the Nine: Believes they protect her. (Loves)
Towards the legal guilds: Feels betrayed by them. (Hates)
Towards the Empire: Could use a new rule. (Neutral)
Towards Vampires: Has no qualms. (Neutral)
Towards the Blood Seekers: Doesn't understand why they want to kill her. (Hates)
Towards Werewolves: Has No Qualms. (Neutral)
Towards Necromancers: Feel they give Witches a bad name. (Neutral)

The night was silent ? a bit too silent. Jentina's fingers traced along the wax doll that she created, before pushing a pin through both hands. She recited an ancient hymn, her eyes following the sentences in her ritual book. The candles in her room flickered; the soft glow of orange they illuminated gave color to her pale skin. The manor she resided in sat in the middle of the thick forest, the only light falling upon the structure was the moon that shone overhead.

Something gave Jentina a chill in her blood. She felt the works of magicka; the change in the air and the stink of Empire piglets. It was all too late that she realized this, because a moment after she realized there were people nearing her home, she heard a loud crash come from down her stairs and then the shouting of men. "Split up! Find the witch!" they cried, and the sound of footsteps intensified. Her eyes narrowed, before opening widely as she heard the footsteps nearing her door.

She quickly grasped everything that she could, and stuffed it into her bag of holding. The door to her room burst open, and the men and women quickly flooded in. She threw her hands up into the air and casted a shield around her body. "We are the Blood Seekers, Witch! We are here to take your hide.." And a petite Breton from behind the group threw a streak of lighting at her. The barrier she had erected was broken, and the impact from the lightning sent Jentina's body through the air, and crashing out of the attic window behind her.

A blood-curdling scream erupted from her throat as her body soared through the air behind her. She felt sharp pains shoot through her body as she crashed through the forest top, her body tossing and turning as she fell through the branches before ultimately landing onto the ground below her ? luckily, the ground was soft, and moss-covered. The world around her grew blurry, and soon her eyelids fell over her eyes. She was out cold.

Hours later, Jentina found the strength to pick herself up. The forest was pitch black, and the soft humming of the crickets and wildlife filled her ears. She groaned as she rose to her feet, feeling the various bruises and broken bones poking at her skin. With all of her remaining strength, she softly chanted a hymn. A blue light was cast upon her body, and she began to feel the bones mend themselves back together and the cuts and bruises fading. Her strength was returning.

Her head suddenly jerked to the left of her. She saw the light being cast around the forest, and various people talking. It was them ? the Blood Seekers. They didn't stop their hunt for her. "Oh Gods." She quickly began to recite a spell that the Mages Guild had taught her so long ago to teleport to their guild hall. She recited it, and disappeared into the darkness. She closed her eyes, and hoped that she'd see a familiar face inside of the Mages Guild.

Her eyes opened, and her gray hues surveyed the area around her. She wasn't at the Mages Guild; they must have placed a ban on her getting there or something. She could also easily blame it on her being nervous and maybe reciting a phrase or two wrong. She ended up in a graveyard ? some place she recognized. This was the graveyard her mother was buried in. Her ears picked up the sound of a tussle nearby. She quickly darted in the direction of the nose, and hid behind a tree, her head peeking out the one side. There was a Necromancer, and a man aiming at him with his bow and arrow. She remained quiet?for now. She was beginning to gain back her confidence.

As Faolin's werewolf friend yelled out to him Faolin was startled and his arrow went astray. However this was enough to make the other necromancer duck for a second. "Ah, werewolf we meet again, it seems that all the creatures of the night are being attracted to this graveyard. I just called for reinforcements so if you want to help me make it quick and be gone. I fear that if my friends see you they may attempt to kill you. Try to communicate with that other werewolf, I think I can take this necromancer. Hurry my fellow bloodseekers could arrive at any moment." Faolin shot antoher arrow missing on purpose to keep the necrmancer at bay.

OOC: Ok just to clear things up and make sure everyone understands what's going on, bebops's werwolf is here helping my bloodseeker. I am fighting instantdeaths necromancer, blademaster's necromancer has turned invisible and is escaping. Mad max's werewolf is still at the scene, and wednesday's necromancer, or witch, is watching. Did I get everything?

OOC: And my ghost is going for MAD-MAX's character.

IC:

Lliryn swore under his breath as the pain shot through his arm, and more blood poured out, soaking his robes. He was once again grateful for his tunic, without it, the beast might have torn his arm off. He cursed silently, as he vowed to learn up on restoration a little better in the future, and he did what he could with his skill in the subject, as he managed to stem the bleeding a little.

His ghost was in the thick of things, and the Bosmer seemed to be off fighting something else, though from his angle, Llriyn couldn't see what. His thoughts reached out to Sorian, calling the dead-warrior to his side, and this time the skeleton responded, fleeing from its fight with the Bosmer, leaving its shield behind, as it made its way to its master.

Lliryn felt a little dizzy, but he managed to stand, his form still invisible, and he made his way back to the battle, his arm still throbbing a little. He was torn between getting out of the area, and wanting to stay a peel the skin from the Bosmers flesh, inch by inch. Plus the mummy still lay in front of the mausoleum, untouched during the battle, and he desperately wanted to get it.

He ducked behind a gravestone, and decided to wait the battle out, as he released his invisiblilty, not wanting to drain his power, hoping the large stone and the angle he was at to the battle would keep him hidden.

He instructed Sorian to head back into the battle, to kill the Bosmer, and protect the mummy at any cost. The skeleton bowed, and ran back into the battle, checking on the mummy before charging at the Bosmer....

"Werewolf friend, forget about the other werewolf, take care of this annoying beast of the undead." Faolin said as he pointed at the skeleton now running back to him for more. Faolin then slung his bow on his back and charged at the necromancer in the woods with his long steel dagger...

Angorhn quickly saw the approaching ghost as he jumped to a nearby buildings roof. The werewolfs ear's twitched and turned, as he heard the sound of nearby Blood-seeker's coming to aid their comrade in danger. The ghost had lost sight of him, as he made his way to the Blood-seekers. Angorhn knew that if he had to changed into his Nordic body.

Across the street angorhn spotted a house, that seemed to be empty. The large beast jumped to the window, crashing through to the bedroom. Angorhn quickly morphed back into his nordic body as the sound of the Blood-seekers came closer. The room was empty, along with the floor. It seemed that it had been empty for weeks maybe even a month. Angorhn rushed down the stairs and into the streets, as he spotted the Blood-seekers running down the street.

"Whats going on out here?", angorhn said acting confused.

"Nothing is going on, just a minor scuffle in the gravyard between some drunks!", came the reply from the commander. Angorhn saw that some of the passing men had their weapons un-sheathed, and quickly followed behind them, towards the battle.

As angorhn and the Blood-seekers approached the fighting, the group of Blood-seekers suddenly haulted as they eye'd their single comrade fighting off some undead with a werewolf.

"What are you waiting for you fools!", angorhn said as he pushed a Blood-seeker towards the battle. The commander and his men charged into the battle, swords and bows ready, charging the undead creatures. Angorhn eye'd a woman who was standing behind a tree who just seemed to be watching the battle...

Curious eyes peered amongst the group of people. It was only a matter of seconds before she realized it was another group of Blood Seekers. "Loony vermin..they must be on an empire -wide genocide." Gray hues darted in the other direction, and took in the sight of one of the people looking at her. She quickly turned and put her back against the tree. She took in a deep breath, and then began to think. Gods, there was so much yelling and talking that she could hardly even hear her own thoughts. She said a small chant, and casted an invisible barrier around herself. "Just in case all else fails." Her hands pushed together her cleavage a bit more, and then she turned and came out from behind the tree.

She had a deadly look upon her face. Her eyes were narrow and pierced through [mad-max] like a pair of sharpened arrows. Her hips had a soft sway, and her aura just radiated confidence, power, and lust. "Some pretty good men you have out there." Jentina wasn't stupid, however, she kept her distance from [mad-max]. "Couldn't help but overhear that you guys are the Blood Seekers.." Her lengthy eyelashes batted.

Angorhn looked at the woman, the moon light made her reflection emaculate. The woman seemed to be trying to seduce him with her looks.

"Those are'nt my men, I'm strickly a buisness man", angorhn looked directly into the womans face. He knew that she knew he was a creature of the night, and was somewhat affraid.

"I'm leaving, I've got some buisness to take-care off in Anvil", angorhn walked away from the battle and the woman, as he walked into the moon lit-night...

She grinned softly. Did she pass off as a vampire? Well with her looks and her seductive demeanor, she could probably pass. When he side stepped her, she let off a sigh of relief; but then something told her to dig deeper into this guy. She could exploit him, and that's what she did best ? manipulated. When he'd walk off into the shadows, Jentina had a wicked grin on her lips. When [mad-max] would look up from the ground, he would find Jentina standing there. "I don't believe I was done talking to you yet." She chuckled softly, and let her finger trace along his jawline. She began to back him up into the trunk of a tree. "It's rude to walk away from a lady when she's speaking to you." She let her gray hues drift into his own eyes.

She'd lean her body forward, her cleavage now clearly visible to him. Her lips drifted near his ear, her teeth nibbling on his earlobe. "Do you really want to make me angry?" said in a cold whisper, and then she'd then slowly bring her body away from his and take a few steps back. The sound of crunching twigs came from the underbrush, and Jentina's head snapped in that direction. "Ooh, who's this?" her hands reached into the bushes, and she grasped the hood of one of the Blood Seekers. She forcefully pulled him out, and drew her dagger from her ankle sheath.

"Well isn't this a pitiful little morsel?" She brought the knife to the Blood Seeker's throat, and brought her lips close to his ears. "Do you think I forgot about how you broke into my home? Oh, I still remember?And I believe that this is long overdue." With a liquid motion, she brought the knife over the Blood Seeker's throat, letting a fresh spray of red liquid fly into the air in front of them. The Blood Seeker fell onto his knees, and she brought up her leg to kick him onto the ground before her. "Ooh, well look at the time.." She looked to [mad-max] and smirked. "I'd love to stay and chat but, gotta go!" Flames engulfed her body, and she was gone into the night.

Thorin watched from above as the strange woman disappeared.
"My business is not yet done here," he said in a growl of a voice. The Werewolf jumped from the high branch, landing next to the Nord, pretending to be human.
"I don't care if this gets a thousand Bloodseekers after me, but I will not allow a murderer to live! I shall damn my kind!"
Thorin swiped across the Nord's chest, leaving a bloody gash. The man struggled to withhold his Werewolf form as blood leaked from the open wound.
"May the cold winds freeze your wound, you murdering fiend."
Thorin sped off into the forest adjacent, ignoring the many shouting Witchhunters.

Angorhn kneeled to the ground as three Blood-seekers rushed over to help him. One kneeled down next to him, as he held his wound.

"Get after the beast, it tried to kill me!", angorhn stood-up as the three nodded at each-other and rushed off to find the beast.

"Well this is one strange night. A woman who tries to seduce me, and next thing a werewolf is attacking me for killing a vampire!", angorhn muttered to himself as he rushed to the nearest pub for a drink.

The pub was teaming with Blood-seekers from all over Cyrodiil. The patrons of the pub all turned to the door, as angorhn walked in holding his wound. "What happened to you!", a Blood-seeker said shocked to see angorhn walk over to the counter. Angorhn ignored the question for the moment as he hailed the pub owner.

"Give me a beer!", angorhn said holding his wound tighter. The whole pub seemed to crowd around him as the pub owner walked back over handing him the beer, "Thanks friend. I'm going to need this... Oh and how much for a room?", the pub owner looked at him with a curious look, "Ten gold piece's M'lord?", angorhn rummaged through his pocket, realizing that his pants were terribly torn, "Here you are. Can I have the key!", the man grabbed the bloody coins, as he passed him the key.

"The beast that did this to me, was a werewolf!", the pub erupted into whispers of what angorhn had just said. "The beast hides amoungst us, as a bosmer. I want it dead, I dont care who kills it!", angorhn chugged his beer down, as he made his way to his new room.

The room was decent, he quickly closed the blinds so he could have some privacy. The room had a bath right next to the bed, Convenient, angorhn thought as he poured water into the bath, and undressed. The water was cold, as angorhn slipped into a thought, What would have made that damn werewolf attack me? For all he knew I was just killing a vile vampire! angorhn sat in his bath. Luckly for his lycan abilities, his wound began to quickly heal.

OOC: Throughout the rest of this thread, and hopefully it's continuations, there will be "story updates" updating you on the events occurring around Tamriel.

STORY UPDATE:

-Raven Rock has been invaded by Legion Spies, hoping to discover Werewolves hidden amongst the civilians.
-Hundreds of Bloodseeker ships have landed on the shores of Solstheim, prepared for war against the Nords and the Werewolves
-The Necromancer king of worms, Mannimarco, has found the last piece of a lost ring, which can summon an army of zombies from the depths of the underworld. The only thing he needs now is the Book of Ancients, which has been lost for two Eras.
-Legal writs of execution have been given to the Bloodseekers, allowing them to legally kill Werewolves, Vampires, and Necromancers, if they have the correct Writ. Otherwise, it is against the law, unless in self defense.

Synthius saw the Bloodseeker dashing towrads him. He grabed his shortsword and cast a simple weak fire ball at the ground in front of him catching it ablaze. The was tence as it glared in his face with a sick smurck ready for the bloodseeker. He held the shortsword in on hand and the staff in the other. He wan't goiing to win a close battle, so devised a plan for his ecscape. He would summon a simple zombie to the nearby bloodseekers to keep them busy for a few seconds. Then he would run and hope that this bloodseeker was foolish enough to follow him there.

He began summoning the zombie,and when first came into being he quickly ran into the darkness of the woods.

Jentina's body appeared in an alleyway in the Elven Gardens District of the Imperial City. Her delicate fingers ran through her wavy locks, teasing the strands of silky hair and letting them rest on the front of her shoulders. The sound of her heels accompanied her out of the cobblestone alleyway and into the crowd of people walking through the Gardens. "Everybody needs a copy of the Black Horse Courier!" Jentina's slender brow quirked for a moment, her fingers reaching out to grasp the Courier. She took the paper and sat on a nearby bench, her legs crossing and her hands opening up the scroll for her to see. "Mannimarco?" She said to herself quietly, intrigued about this discovery. "I thought he was dead? I suppose people never really do stay dead for long around here.."

"Rumor has it that he's looking for the Book of the Ancients?" Jentina's head shook slightly. "But that's been lost for ages.." She didn't understand why he would go looking for it now ? all she knew was that she'd have to find out what incantations the book contained. For the time being, however, she needed a breather and time to really think about what she was getting herself into. The first place she thought of going was to the top of the Palace, where she used to go as a child.

The newspaper was placed beside her, and then began to think. She closed her eyes tightly, and when she opened them she was on top of the tower. An icy patch of wind hit her body; it was much colder up there than it was down on the ground. Her arms crossed, and she slowly began to walk towards the ledge of the Tower. A smile came upon her features as her eyes took in the beauty of the surrounding area. You could see almost everywhere from the tower.

OOC : Meet my nasty piece of work


General Information

Name: Mr. Abbott Flynt
Gender: Male
Race: Breton
Birthsign: The tower
Age: 54
Personality: Bitter , Cruel , and Imposing . Mr Flynt could easily turn a place quiet just by walking into it . People close their doors and windows when they see him walk down the street as they know there's killing to be had , and he is generally regarded as a deranged zealot , racist , sixist , and all around bad egg . He doesn't enjoy talking to people and those who he does talk to recoil in disgust at his disgustingly old-age ideals . He firmly believes that all werewolves , witches , necromancers , vampires , and those who do not firmly place their belief in the nine should be put to death . Although even he himself knows that his supposed faith in the gods of light serve as but a mere facade and excuse for him to indulge in what he enjoy's...maiming , torturing , murdering , and looting .


Class Information


Class name and Description Blood-Hunter's are finely honed marksmen and reknown for thier cunning tact and cool-headed calculating both inside and out of battle . They are agile and quick , and good with a bow , but are otherwise weak in hand to hand combat . To effectively kill , Blood-Hunter's need to be at a far distance , preferably hidden , but they are not a paticularly "stealthy" breed. They make good assassins or highwaymen .

Specialization: Combat
Skills : Marksman , Athletics , Acrobatics


Appearance Gaunt and deathly-looking , Mr. Flynt represents more of a ghoul or vampire then a human . His cheekbones are gaunt and his face looks worn and hollow . His ears sit pulled back and slightly pointed , giving him a somewhat demonic appearance . His lips are thin and drawn out in a constant sneer . His eyes are milky and faded , and he has a small scar barely eight centremeteres long drawing past his left eye . He has thick wispy eyebrows that curl and give him an angry look , and his teeth are razor sharp like fangs , something he did himself to make himself look more menacing . He is bald on the very top of his head , but has some lanky strands of hair around his head , black in colour .


Height: A tall , lanky figure at 6'2
Weight: 74kg
General Appearance: Old , malicious , hating . Intimidating due to height , but otherwise physically weak and rather gaunt .



Equipment Abbott carries on his belt a burgundy velvet coinpurse and a folded map of cyrodiil , with key points of interest circled and labelled in his cursive handwriting in purple ink . He has a small black leather "rack" affixed to his belt that contains crossbow bolts of purest silver .

Armor: Flynt see's armor as a hinderance and prefers clothing instead . He wears thin cotton pants coloured black with black guar leather riding boots that go up to his knees ( with silver spurs ) . For his chest he wears a fine white shirt and http://www.robertcharles.co.nz/dms/images/ecommerce/collections_cravats.jpg. He wears black leather dress gloves .

On top of all this he wears a long overcoat of black leather with a high riding collar . The coat has buttons of pearl and gold lined cuffs . He wears a highwayman-esque tri-pointed hat and looks overall rather similiar to http://www.piratemerch.com/images/french_hwy_coat.jpg .... without the staff and dorky expression

Weapons: Abbot carries with him a pistol-sized wrist mounted crossbow usually affixed to his left hand . Due to its size it is easy to use and quick to reload , but makes up for this with a somehwat low damage output . The crossbow is made of platinum with the initials "A.F" enscribed in the side in cursive print .

Flynnt also carries with him a spring-loaded blade attached to his right wrist . It is made of glass and can shoot out of his sleeve with a small flick , although he usually uses this as a last resort if his enemy becomes too close...something that rarely happens due to his dead-eye accuracy .


Enchanted items: Medallion of the tainted faith : Abbot carries with him a miniature model of Akatosh in his coat pocket . What was once a fine gold model radiating white light and useful in healing and cleansing wounds has now transformed into a ominous black figurine with glowing red eyes due to Flynt's influence over it . It takes away his physical health , but gives him a better accurate eye in battle as a trade-off .


Disposition

Towards the law: See's them as but mere pawn's that can be further used to achieve his aim's . Most legionnares avoid him .
Towards the Nine: Strongly believes he is doing the work of the gods by killing those "un-pure" but deep down knows this is a religious facade so that he can have an excuse to kill .
Towards the legal guilds: Pay's them no mind
Towards the Empire: See's it as a bastion for cultural growth , but believes it should kill off any and all vampires and werewolves for the betterment of mankind .
Towards Vampires: Believes they are scourge and will willingly and publicly kill them in a most painful way with extreme prejudice .The same goes for any non-human
Towards the Blood Seekers: Is part of their society . Is embraced by them lovingly , and acts as if he truelly believes in their cause ... but deep down knows that he is using them to achieve his own goals

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The inn grew deathly silent as the heavily coated figure walked through the front doors , sending a sharp windy chill through the patron's veins . He stood tall and lanky , his head slightly tilted at a small angle....like how a freshly hanged man hangs from a short rope . There were two men flanking him on each side clothed in the same manner , and equally expressionless .

"I am investigating....."

He took a deep breath , exhaling in quick short bursts in an uneasy and somewhat perverse manner.

".....An assault . An assault outside the walls of Skingrad"

The man snaked his way through the inn patrons , his gloved hands clasped behind his back , his long black coat dragging across the floor . As he made his way towards the inn-keep he gazed into the eyes of anyone unfortunate to be in his way , baring his sharpened teeth like a hungry feral dog , waiting for someone to slip up so he could pounce on them .

He had seen the blood on the paved street . Someone had been wounded in that fight , and they had come here , to this very pub . He didnt know if the person was a fellow brother of the blood or not , but he didnt care . His mind was purely focused on the amount of pain he was going to inflict on the werewolf he had been so relentlessly stalking since he arrived in Skingrad .

He was mere step's from the barman...of whom was shaking violently . He had a mug half full...but he was shaking so bad it was still spilling everywhere . He was about to grab the man and ram his face into the bench , but something caught his eye .

Blood . On the step's leading the the second floor .

He turned his head back and gave the barman a twisted smile , as if saying "Looks like its your lucky day" Before unbuttoning his coat , showing his fine vest and white cravat , of which stood in stark contrast to his black and ominous hat and coat . he turned to his two officer's .

"Mr. Scolf....Mr. Rudabaugh . See to it that you watch these people . I have a notion that they are.....not being as co-operative as I would like . If anyone tries to leave , convince them otherwise . Violently ."

He looked up into the second floor , wheezing excitedly . One step closer to the kill . One step closer to the satisfaction , the climix .

The crowd parted like soft lades of grass...still deathly silent , as the uneasy figure made his way upstair's , following the tiny flecks of blood .

OOC : Aye Mad Max , thats you . Also , I dont know if your with me or against me because you didnt post a character sheet , guess we'll just have to see

A small wall of flames burst up in front of Faolin as he side-stepped it and went around only to find that the necromancer was gone. He heard his reinforcements arrive on the scene and they had just finished off a zombie. Faolin walked over to them and looked around the cemetery. "It looks like everyone has fled from the scene, including those two werewolves. Skingrad just keeps getting crazier and crazier. Return to camp, quickly, I am tired and need some rest."
"But sir a nord just told us that a werewolf escaped, going south, should we pursue him?" one man said.
"No," Faolin replied, remembering that, that werewolf was his friend. "Go back to camp now, this battle is finished."
"Yes sir."

As Faolin got back to camp his squad leader rushed up to him and handed him three scrolls. "Your writs, Faolin. One to legally kill vampires, one for werewolves, and one for necromancers. I can't believe the law was actually passed!"
"Great," Faolin said, "Thank you sir. Is every bloodseeker getting one of each?"
"No no no. Only high ranking bloodseekers get all three. Make sure to keep them on you at all times."
"Yes sir. Well then I suppose now that it's legal to kill the creatures of the night, if the bloodseekers can prove that the count of skingrad is really a vampire we can hang him."
"Yes, the bloodseekers could never even get close to him before, but now that it's legal all we have to do is get some evidence against him. Well alright Faolin, I'll let you get back to your tent, I know it's been a long night."
"Yes it has, thank you sir, I need some rest." Faolin said as he slipped past his leader and headed into his tent. There he layed on his bed until sleep overcame him...

OOC: Hey is that Altai..... nope nevermind.....

IC:

Lliryn listened as the battle died down, and as the Blood-Seekers met up with each other, then left. The Bosmer who had started it all was the last one to leave, but Lliryn wanted to make sure, as he cast a spell of Night-Eye. He looked around the graveyard, then cast a very weak spell, to detect any lifeforms around, but the only one was of Sorian who was walking back to his master, grabbing his shield on the way.

The Necromancer looked over to the mausoleum, and a smile appeared on his face, despite the pain coming from his arm, back and head. The mummy remained lying on the ground, as well as the beheaded zombie. He knew his ghost had taken its chance, and fled into the woods, escaping the Necromancers hold, and was now free to wander as a spirit. Lliryn didn't give it a second thought however, as he began casting his dark magick into the corpse of the zombie, watching the headless form rise.

Lliryn almost fell over in dizziness, but managed to stay up, and instructed the servants to carry the corpse back to his lair, as he did a final search of the area. He set off with his dead compainions, moving quickly through the forests, avoiding the camps of his knew foes. His mind raced, as ideas and plans of how to rid these knew enemies from his home passed through his brain. The day was brightening still, and he was nearing home now, and he felt like he hadn't slept in days, and his head pounded from the major loss of magicka.

He would find that Bosmer who had so inconvienced him that night, and would peel the flesh from his face, inch by inch, as he screamed for death. But Lliryn would not grant him the peaceful sleep of death right away, keeping his prey alive to the very limit, and when he was released from life, his soul would have no rest in death, as the Necromancer would bind its spirit to him,. The mer would be his prisoner for as long as Lliryn lived, and Lliryn planned on acheiving immortality......

Thorin sat quietly in an abandoned clock tower, on the north east side of Skingrad. Bloodseekers were most certainly looking for him now. It was not safe here. It was also not safe in his Bloodseeker infested village in Valenwood, or his cot on Solstheim. Where could he go? Where could he possibly go? It didn't matter where he went, he had to stop that rogue Werewolf. Thorin deactivated his enchanted ring, and transformed into a hulking beast. A hazel colored Werewolf. He shot out of the clock tower, and descended upon the dark town. He landed on the spire of a large chapel, that overlooked the town's center. Down below was a large pub. Thorin could still see the blood streaks left by the rogue Werewolf.

Thorin jumped down from the chapel, landing on top of the pub. His acute Elf-Werewolf ears could hear all the voices and movement below. He could even hear the heavy rasps of an injured man. He was close. Very close. Thorin growled and scraqed his claws along the rooftop of the pub. In due time...

Angorhn finished his bath and was finishing getting his clothes on, he could suddenly sense two figures that were dangerous to him. One was the werewolf he had just come into contact with, while the other was a darker being?

This night is not turning into a good one, he thought as he looked around. Luckly he had dumped the bloody water out the window using a bucket and had finished cleaning the blood from the floor. Angorhn made his way to the door wearing new clothes that looked half decent. A large figure stood before him as he closed the door. It was a breton, who seemed to be trying to bring fear into his heart, It did'nt work, angorhn had already had a wild night, and this was just adding to that.

Angorhn realized that the figure was following the blood, and the blood lead to his room! the figure stood before him, just standing there trying to intimidate the Nord.

"Excuse me but what are you looking for?", angorhn was not armed with his weapons, and his only recourse was to turn into a werewolf, which he did'nt want to do right away. He wished that the breton woman he had met outside, would come and help him out...

Jentina headed out to the Arcane University. She stopped momentarily on the stairs leading up to the University and took in the beauty of the structure itself. She hadn't been there in so long, and there had been so many things left unsaid. She began to move again and came to the door of the University; her fingers traced along the wooden door and onto the cast iron door handle. She pulled it open and stepped inside. Lone and behold, there was the very man that she used to call father. "What are you doing here?" He asked, and in response she tilted her head to the side and let off a soft sigh. "I need some help." Her crimson lips pursed.

"There are these hunters..The Blood Seekers they call them. I need to know about them, and I know you are up to date on the situation." Although he was skeptical, he knew that she had a good heart. He began to elaborate all that he knew on the Blood Seekers, and how they wanted to basically destroy the Vampires, Werewolves and Necromancers. Jentina took mental notes. These people were just blood-hungry mercenaries with the Empire backing them up via official writs. "They attacked me in my home. They took everything of mine.." She shook her head.

"I know what you must do.." He said to her. She smiled softly, and then disappeared from his sight. Since her house was out of commission, she decided to rent out a room in her favourite town ? Anvil. Appearing shortly after at the Sea Port, Jentina began to walk towards the main doors and into the town. Her eyes scanned over the people, looking for anybody out of the ordinary. She turned on her heel and made her way towards the Inn. When she initially entered, she got a variety of stares. She stared back at all of them, and then promptly went back to minding their own business. Hips began to sway, and she walked to the front desk.

"Can I have a room facing the water?" She placed the gold coins on the desk, and received a key to her room. She gave the deskman a soft grin, and then headed up the flight of stairs and towards the rooms they had. When she opened the door to the hall, she observed something very out of the ordinary. A man in a dark robe was blocking the man from leaving his room. When she caught sight of the face, she recognized him as the man she was acting sultry towards the other night. She knew he was one of the hunted, and the hunter was standing in front of him.

"Well isn't this a coincidence?" She stood out in the hall, her eyes gazing onto the dark-figure's back.

Angorhn stood there, unable to make a move towards anyone. He was trapped, he did'nt want to morph into a werewolf which would make everyone in the pub know there was a beast in Anvil.

"A coincidence would be putting it plainly!", angorhn said as he looked at the cloaked man once more. "Got anymore of those vanishing acts you can do?", angorhn said to the breton woman who was just standing behind the cloaked man...

[Oh crap, did I really? Erm, well..I thought it was an NPC x__________x]

Edit: Will post something soon in this spot

Okay, disregard that post. I'll redo it.
and it's gravy :] dont worry about it.

EDIT: re-read my post up there. I re-did it. I suppose we just have to wait for Atomic now.