Bending the lore is one of the best parts of making an RP! Honestly, you ought to look back at some of my own RP's, I'm quite the Lore-bender. And thank you Adam, truly you are too kind. I like to think of myself as a fair RPer, but I'd say I'm far too humble (for my own good to be honest) to ever give myself any credit. It'll certainly be nice to be in an RP with Venix and Yttrium again, both of which are RPers who I've shared some good times with in the past.

Thank you Yttrium, you are, to be honest, one of my favorite post'rs on the forums that i enjoy reading. And your welcome Jonas. i know that from experience!

Well, here's my critter. Some people may have seen her about. If not, welcome to my most tormented creation ever.

Name: Karstine Maranay Zeterra (the Second)
Gender: Female
Race: Mixed-racial Dunmer and Khajiit
Age: 29
Birthsign: The Thief
Birthdate: 17th of Evening Star, 3E 409

Class: Vagabond
Class Focus: Stealth/Combat
Major Skills: Sneak, Light Armor, Security, Marksman, Short Blade
Minor Skills: Alteration, Acrobatics, Restoration, Unarmored, Athletics

Eyes: Bright Emerald Green
Hair: A cascade of blood red strands, perfectly groomed to end just at her shoulder blades. Kept ponytailed with a leather tie in combat situations.
Skin/Fur Color: Snow white with quarter inch long white fur. Fur has black striping on her sides and the outsides of her arms and legs. Also, the tip of her tail is black.
Height: 5' 6"
Weight: 148 lbs
Build: Slender, with stringy musculature.

Physical Description: Karstine is, in a sentence, a small but pretty Khajiiti woman. She has stark white skin and similarly colored fur with black striping on her sides, arms and legs, alongside a pair of sparkling emerald colored eyes, all attributes from her mother. From her father's elven lineage, Karst has blood colored hair and a soft elven face, as opposed to the usual feline snout that her mother bore.
In body she is somewhat curvy, though what beauty she has is a warrior's beauty rather than a maiden's; her arms, legs and stomach have stringy-yet-strong muscles under them and there's not an ounce of fat on her body. Her hands are scarred but otherwise delicate looking, her fingers oddly long for the size of the rest of her, and her toes, while human in appearance, bear little claws on the ends of them.
Karst's soft face often bears a look of determination, making her otherwise cute features look somewhat sinister. Like her hair, her eyebrows are a deep red color, a drastic contrast to the snowy fur, and the eyes themselves are slightly slanted inwards, almond shaped with long eyelashes and highly expressive. Like most Khajiit, her ears and tail are easily noticeable indicators of her mood at most times and her movements are graceful and smooth. Unlike most Khajiit, though, her voice is that of an elven woman, with only traces of her Khajiiti heritage audible.

Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Many whip scars mar her back from mistreatment in the Imperial prisons, alongside a scar from a stab wound just under her collar bone and a gray gash just under her bottom left rib from a Dremora's blade. An extravagantly jeweled ring rests in her left ear and two iron rings offset it in her right, all usually hidden beneath her hair. Her only tattoo is a small inking of her name in Daedric, which lies dead center of her shoulder blades.

Clothing and Armor: In the casual everyday, Karst's usual outfit consists of a deep purple shortsleeve shirt overlaid by a fur lined black leather vest with silver buckles up top. Below that, a pair of comfortable linen pants the same shade as her shirt and and old set of adamantium boots, gashes everywhere in the blackened metal. When the weather takes a turn for the colder, a tattered old trenchcoat and padded leather gloves are added.

For combat situations, everything changes save the boots. The ornamental vest is traded for a mithril one to protect her vitals. This is worn beneath light leather armor, both greaves and cuirass, finished with similar fingerless gauntlets covered on the back with steel plating.

And no matter the occasion, Karst always has about her neck a pair of necklaces. One is a gift from her mother, a silver chain with an emerald sphere entwined in silver vines hanging from it, enchanted to ward off diseases of all sorts. The other is a green crystal pendant, burnt and cracked, the only remnant of a friend she lost in the Oblivion Crisis.

Weapons: Mithril-stringed Steel Longbow/50 Solid Steel Arrows, Elven Shortsword, Dremora Shortsword, Silver Dagger, claws.
Magic: Mara's Kiss [Restore Health, self/touch], Flash Bolt [mid-level Shock, target/touch], Wind's Companion [Invisibility 65 sec, self. Requires her to be almost fully charged], Dead Bolt [Lock 30pts/Easy Lock, target], Trespass [Open 50pts/Average Lock, touch], Lightning Grasp [mid-high-level Shock, touch]

History: Karst was born in Elsweyr, the product of an unlikely love between a Khajiiti wise woman and a Dunmeri man who was taken into the tribe after being rescued from the desert. For a while she lived a happy existence with her parents and elder brother and even when said brother left at coming of age –fifteen years old in their tribe– she remained a relatively happy little girl until the age of five and a half. Her mother fell mysteriously ill and, over the next seven months, died a slow and agonizing death. Her father’s grief had him follow within another year, leaving Karst very much alone in the world.

After the loss of her parents, she lived mostly off the charity of the kinder elders. As a half-breed, she was already unpopular with most of her tribesmen, but her frequent vandalisms, practical jokes and thefts made matters far worse for her. At age eleven, Karst pulled a prank on one of the younger warriors and, in his fit of rage, she was forced to kill him in self defense. The incident presented the more resentful elders with an excuse to get rid of her once and for all and so, the next day, she was accused of murder and exiled into the deserts.

Life didn’t improve much after that, either. Karst was forced to live as a wanderer, stealing food and valuables to stay alive, sleeping in alleys, never staying in one place for very long. Over the course of her travels, love was found and subsequently brought to a violent end on three separate occasions. By sixteen, her experiences had left her bitter, angry and mentally unstable. Eventually, after moving north into the southern Cyrodiilic town of Skingrad, she cracked. A nobleman had caught her stealing from him and had some of his guards harass her, to which her eventual, irrational response was to rob him at knifepoint. Karst doesn’t remember the details of what happened that night, but the next morning she awoke in the Imperial City Prison stripped of her belongings, covered in blood and, yet again, guilty of murder.

The Khajiit spent seven years of her life imprisoned there, all the while subjected to unspeakable torture and defilement at the hands of the prison guards. Her only luxury, and only means of retaining what little sanity she still had, came in the form of fights in the nearby Arena. Although at first her forced participation in the Arena was a subject of fear for her, she found she excelled at ending the lives of others and, despite her original revulsion at the thought, came to enjoy it. Then, just as Karst had gotten accustomed to the daily routine of torment and violence, she was unexpectedly released back into the world. As her luck would have it, her release came at the beginning of the end of the world. She fought in the Kvatch Arena for a living in the brief time before the Oblivion Crisis began and when it did, the first town to burn was the only one in Cyrodiil she really cared about.

Within a relatively short time, she met up with a ragtag band of adventurers, all claiming to be out to stop the Deadric invasion. With few thoughts but revenge, she lent herself to their cause. Over the course of two and a half months, Karst fought fiercely beside them, even the ones she detested, and made friends of many in the group, even managing to stumble upon her long estranged brother. Their efforts ultimately brought victory, though at terrible cost; some of her closest friends perished in the hells of the Deadlands, a burden borne with extreme difficulty. Karst and her companions were bestowed the title of Champions of Cyrodiil, given enough gold to live on for several years and treated as celebrities

In the six years following the crisis, Karst did scattered work for the Fighter's Guild and various others to keep busy for two years, briefly worked in the King and Queen Tavern, then, eventually, joined and shortly ended up running a small mercenary group known for their unusually strict morals (for a merc band) and pickiness with contracts. Here she stayed for another three years, saving up what she had to spare, living on the road, storing her money with her brother. Within the last few months, she decided to elect a close friend in the band as the new leader and left, buying a nice home in Bruma to be closer to her sibling, who had stayed with the Blades after the Crisis. When her dreams tormented her into finding the Door in Niben Bay, she contacted him first, and although he couldn't join her, he agreed to travel with her as far as the Imperial City and see her off.

Personality: Under normal circumstances, Karst is playful, energetic and witty. She boasts a strong will, a twisted and somewhat dark sense of humor and rather striking lack of physical shame. Karst is unusually tolerant of pain, able to endure amounts of it that would make most folk black out, a skilled marksman and swordswoman, excellent sneak and an extremely compassionate person to those who she thinks deserve it.

On the other side of the coin, Karst has problems with her temper, often speaks her mind when it'd be far better to be quiet. Displays of blatant arrogance and (what she views as) misuse of authority often garner fiery and violent reactions from the small woman. Though highly intelligent and quick-witted, she often does irrational and even incredibly stupid things in anger. She has a serious lack of confidence in herself in almost every way, is a frequent alcoholic and has a habit of judging people severely by first impression.

Her biggest weakness by far, however, is her emotions. At the best of times, she is subject to mood swings ranging from psychotically happy to violently irritable and broods sometimes for days after being angered. At the worst of times, she is manic-depressive and borderline suicidal. Despite all her weaknesses, though, Karst is a kindred woman and, if one earns her trust, a fiercely loyal friend.

Other Traits/Oddities:
- Despises arrogance.
- Enjoys pulling pranks.
- Drinks when depressed.
- Copes with certain kinds of trauma by masking it with humor. This sometimes leads to jokes at very inappropriate times.
- Her fingers are slightly longer than most humanoid creatures her size by about half an inch.

Misc Skills [Non-Combat]:
- Is a good cook, but never admits to it when complemented.
- Can be persuasive if need be, though she never claims to be smooth about it.
- Is good at creating medicines from raw ingredients, a skill she leaned from her mother when she was young.
- Has psychic potential that she cannot harness. Though she knows and accepts that she has it, the only use she currently has for it is the sort of sixth sense that it grants her, allowing her to sense and feel the emotions of those near her. This can often be as much a curse as it is a blessing, however.

:clap:

Very nice character.

Thank you! She was my very, very first RP character, way back in 2006 or 2007. She's had a long time to evolve. ^_^
By no small wonder, she's also my personal favorite of my creations.

EDIT: So, I think we have about enough to start this thing, and people can trickle in at the meeting if we get more or just.. show up randomly on the way there. Anyone else need more time for sheets, or can we start this like.. tomorrow? I'm amazed how quickly this came together and got organized and all. Last I left the RPing forums here everything was chaos, so it's really awesome to see stuff more or less like it used to be again.

It was choas when i was here, failed RPs and such, but i love your first ever character lol

REDACTED: will repost when i have made some changes also checking some things with Aula. will repost when done

Nice CS Venix

here is mine

my CS

Name: Adam
Nickname(s): Sam, Sir Adam (he likes to be called that)
Gender: Male
Race: Bosmer
Age: Elven age is 85, Age he looks like to humans is 46
Birthdate: 3E 375
Birthplace: Valenwood

Class: Healer
Class Focus: Restoration/Healing Magic
Major Skills: Restoration, Blade, Apothecary/Alchemy, Illusion, Athleticism, Mysticism
Minor Skills: Destruction, Light Armor, Alteration, Block, Archery, Hand-to-hand
Birthsign: The Lord

Eyes: Light Green
Hair: Long (Neck length) shaggy, brown
Skin/Fur Color: Tan and White
Height:5'7
Weight: 156lbs
Build: Athletic and average muscle

Physical Description: He is average bosmer size and is sort of built but athleticly built. He has a calm, smooth gentle expression on his face but is deadly with his profession. His green eyes add a captivating feel to whomever looks at him. His hands rough and more smooth sometimes and his legs are strong. arms just as strong and eyes as pointy as an elves should be,

Tattoo/Scars/Piercings: One steel small ring peirced on his right

Clothing and Armor: iron bracers, black cloth pants, leather boots, white long-sleeve shirt, iron chest and briastplate, red cloak and hood.

Inventory: Motar and Pestle, healing herbs and poisonous herbs, some potions, a canteen of water, some bread and scrolls in his travel pack

Weapons: http://www.medievalweaponinfo.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/lxex1-excalibur-gold.jpg http://www.medropship.com/images/hk2515.jpg
Magic: Heal, Heal Other, Drain Health, Absorb health, Drain Magicka, Absorb magicka, cure poison, Light path, Unlock (Average and under) Captivating touch, Fireball, Frost ball, Shock, The Blood of the North lesser power of the Lord. Beast Tongue (talks to animals to help)

History: Adam was born into a Castle in Battlehorn/Chorrol as the castles, Castle Mage and sometimes did work at the Chapel. To further his knowledge in the arcane arts he attended the University in both Summerset Isle and the Imperial City. He then Joined the Fighters Guild and occasional does contracts but trains among the guildmates and is Warlock in the Mages Guild. He sometimes teaches his students and peers at the guild halls or the university. He knows swordplay well and the ways of apothecary and alchemy. - He witnessed the oblivion crisis and called to arms and took several mages helping the Imperial Legion garrison in Cyrodiil. He was in the final battle in the Imperial City Aboretum and did what he could, he saved who he could and was recognized as a true Champion of the legion, awarded a dagger and title for a spot within Legion as a Hero and Champopmm, but turned down the title simply because 'He did what he loved', If asked about or called Hero or Champion he will likely disagree. He onced healed and battled along side the heroes of Cyrodiil. He now resides in Weye, collecting herbs, fish, field word and sometimes works in the Weye Tavern of tells his stories. He recieves a letter from Karst, a adventurer like Adam. Karst taught Adam some interesting stuff and in exchanged he healed Karst whenever they were in battle together during the crisis. They met, incidently, with Adam healing Karst. He joined her Mercanary company for awhile doing what he could and left on his own.

Personality: Smart, loving, caring and joking. Sarcastic and treats others the way he wants to be treated, both bad and good aspects.

Other Traits and Oddities: Attracted to Nord and High elven women. Can't turn down a good book. Thinks female spellcasters and warriors are attractive. Fancies playing and owns a little duck
-

Misc Skills [non-combat]: Cooking, Singing, dancing, talking to animals
-

Here's my first one!

Name: Iver Letholdus the Defender
Nickname: Iver
Gender: Male
Race: Nord
Age: 22
Birthdate: The 15th of Frostfall in the 3E417
Birthplace: Falkreath, Skyrim

Skills: A warrior tried by Oblivion and baptized by fire, he can work wonders with any blade you give him, though he excels with the longsword. He cant use magicka and he wont sneak up on an enemy, he prefers an honorable approach.

Birthsign: The Warrior

Eyes: Hazel
Hair: Medium Scruffy
Skin/Fur Color: Slightly Pale
Height: Around 6 feet 1
Weight: Between 200 to 220
Build: Muscular

Physical Description: Pale but certainly frightful to see in the midst of battle. He stands proud with his chest placed out front. He has rough looking hands with short, stubby fingers to match his stumpy toes. His arms nearly explode of veins popping out as his legs show many similar features. His brown hair just covers his hazily blue eyes, stretching down to the back of his neck. His jawbone is flat and strong looking while his brows give away a faint realism of humanness, very thin like and hard to see.

Tattoo/Scars/Piercings: A scar extending from his right shoulder to his lower left abdomen.

Clothing and Armor: What appears to be an iron suit of armor, roughly made and badly damaged. It’s a wonder the cuirass remains intact, led alone wearable.

Inventory: A few Septims and a note from a long forgotten friend.

Weapons: A fine steel sword, engraved with illegible lettering along with a kite shield belonging to the Knights of the Nine.

History: Born to a no name family in a no name village not far from Falkreath, Iver had quickly accustomed himself to practice with the sword daily. Though at first he was belittled by many and told he could never be a warrior, his persistence prevailed and soon became a fairly good warrior, one which many of the tribesmen came to love and adore.

One faithful morning however, his true colors were tested when a traveling band of Mer decided to pillage their peaceful town. By every passing minute, the fighting grew more and more intense while women and children ran for the city walls. The young Iver, only 16 years of age, ran to his sword master to plea for his sword and shield, but upon arriving at the small wooden building, all he saw was bloodshed and the mangled bodies of what was left of his friends.

Quickly, Iver set out to find his master, who would surely have repelled the enemy invaders, but alas, the gods had chosen to take away his mortal body and let his soul wander the afterlife in peace.

The gods? How could any “god” be so cruel to allow such a man to meet his end in such a manner? A man of honor should not be torn apart like a rag doll period, led alone by Mer!

He picked up his master’s sword and shield and charged out into the enemy lines, demanding to meet their leader in honorable combat. Mer, of course, knew such thing as honor and simply charged after him. Without the help of his brothers’ bows’, he would have been massacred then and there, just as his master was.

After many gruesome minutes, their leader appeared in the morning sun, laughing that such a challenge would be made. His brothers’ knew then that Iver had sealed his fate, and never reached for their quivers once more.

The Mer just stood opposite of Iver, unflinching as they stared into each other’s eyes.

What have I done!? I cant compete against a warlord! I cant compete against even a regular Mer! Shor save me, I beg of you. .

The warlord stood still as night, as usual, when Iver charged at him, screaming words of which had never been heard. Simply, screaming. His left hand swept at the warlord who easily managed the parry. The Mer started chanting, where as the villagers simply stayed silent. .

Iver lunged many a time and never once hit his mark. His opponent, mocking him by not even lifting his sword. Soon though, the Mer grew tired of the petty game and began battle himself.

Now on the defensive, Iver used all his strength to withstand the mighty blows coming from the Elven longsword. And just as he was about to give up hope and accept defeat, his master spoke to him, but not from outside, rather the inside.

Remember child, you cannot win unless you open your eyes.

Open my eyes? My eyes are open! What kind of joke is this!?

Then he remembered, his master didn’t mean open his eyes, he meant look for the open spots. Managing to wield his shield once more, he blocked the attacks of the Mer warlord, but remembered to spot his opening.

And then, he found it. The Mer left his right side unattended when he swung his sword, and so the next time he swung, Iver rolled under him and quickly lunged his blade deep within the Mer’s right side.

He turned to face the Mer, who staggered to stand once more and smiled, he had won. He pulled the blade out and turned to his brothers, beginning to walk away. Right as he did so, the Mer mustered one last swing, and let out a loud battle cry. Iver turned to defend himself but he was too slow, the blade pieced his right shoulder and quickly ran down his body.

Both fell to the earth, and laid in pools of their blood. Three weeks later, the Defender awoken.

Upon awakening, Iver had barely the strength to look around the cool, damp room he was brought to. After many days bedridden, he mustered enough courage to take to his feet once more, only to fall painfully to the ground.

Soon, days turned into weeks, weeks into months and after a year of recovery and grueling physical therapy, Iver managed to return to his old self. His brothers always stayed with him as long as they could and never let him forget that faithful fight, but Iver didn’t want to remember it.

It was a failure in his eyes. A true warrior wouldn’t turn his back on the enemy until the very life from his blood fled from his body and his soul wandered Nirn for all eternity. Though he didn’t like it, the scar made him remember ever so often and he grew to accept his misstep that day. He grew stronger from it.

After turning 19 years old, shortly after the 4th Era had begun, Iver grew impatience with his current life. He wanted more. Whether or not he knew what he wanted was unknown to him, but he knew this wasn’t his life. He left his brothers and parents and tribesmen to head South, to Cyrodiil.

He met up with many different types of people, never staying in a place for more then a few weeks however. Shortly after reaching the city of Skingrad, he heard of an ancient order of Knights, the Knights of the Nine he recalled. He went to their headquarters and met the Knights, though he had no intention to join as he was proud of his own religion, he did seek their aid in training.

He spent nearly a year with the order and by the time his time had come to an end, he had grown very familiar with all types of blades and felt proud about himself. He entered the Fighters Guild shortly there after spending time training and doing odd jobs here and there for them. Eventually though, while walking the streets of the Imperial City, he saw a poster pinned to the wall by an arrow.

Personality: A strong sense of pride and always standing tall and proud. He’ll joke to anyone and everyone, just don’t mention the past. Speaks his mind and wont follow an order, or person unless he believes in it. It should also be noted that he does have trust issues.

Other Traits and Oddities: Loves to stare out in the night sky and just imagine anything and everything. Sings a song very loud and proud before each and every battle.
-

Misc Skills [non-combat]: Can kill and cook anything your heart desires, just so long as you can point him in the right direction.
----------------------
Edited

Very noce Sheet Mony, especially for your first! did better than me and ive been doing this a while now XD, i need to repost mine when Aula has looked over somethings

As I said Monty, great job.

And Adam, that was a wonderfully crafted CS. Glad to have a healer on our side now. SO we've got a:

Thief, Healer, Warrior, and a Sadist, it's looking pretty diverse.

I'm kind intrigued by Shadow's mention of his character. And Jonas should have a good one.

This looking pretty good if I say so myself.

Okay, here i am with some edits especially to the history

Name: Sarah Lawson

Nickname(s): Mustang (It was her agent codename)

Gender: Female

Race: Imperial

Age: 24

Birthdate: Mid-Year, 3E 415

Birthplace: Imperial City

Class: Infiltrator

Class Focus: Combat/Stealth

Major Skills: Blade, Marksman, Acrobatics, Sneak, Lockpick, Athletics, Speechcraft, Light Armor

Minor Skills: Heavy Armour, Mecentile and Hand to hand

Birthsign: The Steed

Appearance: Instead of filling out diffrent sections i thought i would do a picture instead: http://www.contactmusic.com/pics/lc/julie_and_julia_premiere_2_280709/yvonne_strahovski_2521452.jpg

Height: 5ft 10

Weight: 9 stone

Build: Slender, slightly toned

Physical Description: Slender with recognizable feminine features

Tattoo/Scars/Piercings: She has a scar which runs from her right hip to her stomach.

Clothing and Armor: Sarah wears a modified suit of http://spiritedtreasure.fliggerty.com/shiny-full.jpg, it has been modfied to be more lightweight and reduce noise while sneaking, she still wears the bracers around her foerarm but wears no gauntlets but instead has bandages wrapped around her hands she also wears no helmet, the shoulder pads have also been cut down to be more fitting on her shouders and not so big also the "spikes" around the neck bit have been removed for a smoother neckpiece. For casual occasions Sarah is very parshal to wearing nice dresses, but it is rare a situation like this comes along so she is usually seen in her armor. When it gets colder Sarah has a cloak she wears over the armour to keep her warm. She also wears a necklace with a Jade pendant on it.

Inventory: Lockpick

Weapons: Golden Longsword, Golden Bow, Quiver of Lustrous Golden Arrows and Throwing knives attached around her right thigh

Magic: Minor helaing spells

History: Sarah was brought up in the Imperial City by parents who, for lack of a better word criminals. Her parents never taught her that crime was right or wrong, it just depended on the person at the recieving end. Sarah was trained in the art stealth, thievery, fighting and also the art of the con by her parents. Her mother taught her how to talk her way into and out of things while her father who served in the Imperial Legion taught her to fight. Sarah never really agreed with how their lives where but at the same time she understood the necessity of it. However they only targeted people who were arrogant and pompous with their wealth, those who looked down on others. When she was 12 her parents where finally caught and arrested by the Imperial guard.

The Imperial guard took her in and she was then taken to a special unknown part of the legion, much like the blades. She was further trained in combat and stealth. During the course of her training she met another boy, the two felt a connection over time, no one was going to say it was love, but there was something. The two spent plenty of time together, for a short time Sarah grew weak mentally dwelling on the past and her parent’s, He helped her through it and after that time she was stronger mentally than she’d ever been. When they both passed out from training he was killed on his first mission. Sarah was hurt and upset but she pushed forward. But her thoughts kept dwelling on the fact that she had lost the only person who could be in her life that she cared about.

Sarah carried out many undercover operations for the Imperial Legion. She had been on a few missions the Elsweyr and Skyrim as well, While in the province of Skyrim she decided that if she would ever settle down anywhere it would be there, she fell in love with the beauty of the land.

She was successful in many operations that ranged from recon to assassination. It was on one mission where she found the gear she uses now, she was sent to investigate and cult of Daedric worshipers, it was unsure which cult but it was suspected to be followers of Sheogorath as they were causing random havoc in strange ways across Tamriel, somehow they made a swarm of rats infest a village. While there she was discovered and she had to fight them all, it wasn’t a difficult fight until a creature in golden armour appeared, The creature was excellent in combat and this is what caused the scar on her stomach. Eventually she bested it in combat. Examining the corpse the creature’s skin glowed with a light golden hue, Looking at the armour and weapons she could not tell the material they were made of but it was good, and so she took it all for her own.

When she turned 24 Sarah had enough of the life she was leading, She tried fighting in the arena for a while but it wasn’t for her, it was mindless killing for entertainment and disagreed with it, Sarah knew she wanted some adventure and excitement. Then she saw the poster, still haunted by the personal demons of her past she decided to go for it.

Personality: Sarah can be quite cold, depending on what her first impressions of you are, however her mind can be changed. Once you know her she is kind and caring, looks to do the right thing most of the time but she can however be unsure of what the right decisions should be, which then causes her to question herself and her decision once the decision has nbeen made. She is also very feminine despite what some would call a rough life.

On the other hand, if you give her reason to dislike you dont hope for an easy ride with her, she will purposly make it hell for you and if you break her trust you will never get it back.

Sarah tries to see things for how they are, she looks through the crap to whats real. Sarah is also a fairly emotional person. Tries to be witty, dosn't always work. Sarah is also a hopeless romantic at heart, she truly believes in love and is happy for any two people that truly find it, although she never feels she will find it herself. Anyone she has ever cared about has been taken away and this causes her to somewhat push people who try to get close away, but push hard enough and she may let you in.

Other Traits and Oddities: Sarah is very prone to speaking her mind which can be a good or a bad thing, she strongly believes in karma and has a love for horses

Misc Skills [non-combat]: Dancing, Seduction, Climbing, Horsemanship and slight cooking skills, not great but enough, if you have anything from her there is a high chance it might be burnt.

A diverse rag-tag group of adverturers. I like how all these RP's bring in people with imaginative characters, its like a Final Fantasy game!

Like a good Final Fantasy game.

Snap

Never played FF myself jsut thought it was an appropriate moment for a snap...

I played one, was very bored and made it to Chapter 4 of like 13 before quitting

Also, thank you all for the confidence boost and I love the other characters as well. Very intriguing so far. I will edit a bit of my CS later tonight though.

No dramas : ) I'd offer you a fishy stick but i was beaten to it

Haha

I disappointed myself without adding the Good

Just read back a few posts in this thread, you said TES fan fic forums where in chaos a while back, I was just looking at the fallout fan fic section. It seems rather chaotic over there ATM

I like the idea of a diverse group, so here is my addition to the fray:

Name: Juhanor
Nickname: Juhanor
Gender: Male
Race: Cathay-raht Khajiit
Age: 27
Birthdate: On a certain day
Birthplace: Elsweyr

Class: Night Prowler
Class Focus: Martial Arts (Combat)
Major Skills: Hand-to-Hand, Athletics, Acrobatics, Unarmored
Minor Skills: Block, Sneak, Heavy Blade
Birthsign: The Steed

Eyes: Blue
Hair: Dusky orange fur
Skin/Fur Color: Dusky orange fur
Height: 6'7''
Weight: 200 pounds
Build: Well muscled, but not overtly so. Like a martial artist.

Physical Description: Dusky orange fur, well defined arm muscles

Tattoo/Scars/Piercings: Two circular scars on his wrists

Clothing and Armor: Black silk pants, leather boots

Inventory: 15 sweet rolls, 3 bottles of wine, a Burlap Sack of Holding (for holding items)

Weapons: Glass Battle Gauntlets
Magic: Night Vision that activates in darkness, like a Khajiit

History: Juhanor was born in Elsweyr, hypothetically speaking, on a certain day to uncertain parents. After apparently growing up to learn the many different fighting styles of the Khajiit, Juhanor left his tribe at the age of 20, possibly. The young Khajiit traveled Tamriel, spent some time freeing slaves, became famous for it, and eventually found his way to Saarthal, a legendary city of the old Nords. However, at that point in time, the Dragon Broke, and Juhanor found himself, along with a few of his friends from Saarthal, working for a mercenary in Cyrodiil, just about seventy five years before the events of Saarthal would have occurred.

The Dragon Break would have awful repercussions; Juhanor was no longer connected to regular time and space, Juhanor began to exist as a multi-faceted, yet singular being, much like the Aedra; it was now impossible for the Cathay-raht to return to his regular life. He frequently finds himself in odd locations, but has no control over where, or even when, he is. However, Juhanor has had no special gains from this; he merely exists on a higher level, but does not know it, and is basically regular like everyone else.

Personality: Calm and carefree. Chivalrous; can't abide seeing a woman or innocent in danger. Loves sweetrolls.

Other Traits and Oddities: Defends sweetrolls with his life. He loves sugary foods to an extent that scares other sweet-loving Khajiiti. Cautious of animals.

Misc Skills [non-combat]: Drinking, Brewing, Light Sleeping

I might change some stuff up if I have the time later. Oh, look, I just found the time.

Lol! Well, unless anyone has any objections, I'll start the first real thread tomorrow.

EDIT: Master Thief, you're gonna have to explain that one to me.. I'm.. lost.

EDIT EDIT: Unless, of course, you're meaning to say he lived in the time Skyrim's going to take place, and with the return of Alduin, the Dragon broke and mussed him up. ..Though Dragon Breaks don't work like that as far as I know.

Master thief I have to say I am confused lol have we got a time traveling Kahjit here? Maybe it's to do with some ES stuff I don't know about I started back with morrowind

I'm pretty sure he's a time traveling Kahjit either way though, I like it The sweet rolls part was rather amusing too.

Okay, basically think of it like this: Akatosh is the Dragon God of Time. When things happen funny, he "Breaks," which results in a mixing of timelines- that is what happened in Daggerfall. Anyways, this is just my way of explaining Juhanor's ability to currently be in four RPs; he essentially is unaffected by the natural laws of time and space, but not in any obvious way that affects any of the RPs.

Just see him as an incredibly regular god, who has no godly powers other than existing in four timelines simultaneously. That is about as simple as it gets.

Edit: Like, the Dragon Broke so awfully across so many timelines, that it was just Juhanor's luck to be caught in the crossfire of this freakish chronal event, causing him to exist across four timelines at once. He has no special powers other than existing across four timelines at once.

Edit 2: He can't manipulate time either. Basically, he just "is" in all of these different time periods, if you catch my drift.