» Thu Sep 10, 2009 9:56 pm Well first off this will either be a good RP or an EPIC FAIL, so lets make this good. This is my first RP (That I am starting) and PLEASE feel free to give me a nudge every once in a while.
Takes Place in the Shivering Isles. (Yes, the gate from Cyrodiil to The Shivering Isles, is open)
PM me Character Sheets when you are finished.
Lets begin, shall we?
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Rules:
*No Ubering
*No Illiterates (If you dont know what this means, dont even bother)(Im a fast typer, I frequently make typos, sorry if im being hippocritical when playing)
*No Player Controlling
*Be Realistic
*Romance, Allowed, Dont get dirty.
*What i say, GOES
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Character Sheet:
Name-
Race-
Age-
Height-
Hair Color and Style-
Eye Color-
Skin Tint-
Body Details-(Scars, Tatoos, Oddities)
Clothing-
Armor-
Currently Wearing-
Weapons-
Major Skills-(5 max, use specifics, such as if youre character uses axes, dont put blunt, put "axes")
Unique Skills (non-combat)-(3 max) (If not obvious, put parenthesis next to skill and explain it.)
Likes-
Dislikes-
Inventory-(Use backpacks, pockets, ect.)
Random-
Occupation-
Town (Currently Living)-(Can be a traveler from a different province)
Background-
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~The Story~
Another adventurer stumbled through the door of The Crows Inn looking in bad condition. As the Nord warrior rang the bell, Dreigh moaned and mozied downstairs. "Welcome to The Crows Inn" he grumbled
, as the routine was the same every day. "....Drink, im dying of thirst!" Shouted the Nord. Dreigh still half asleep bent under the counter and grabbed a bottle of Mead. He handed it to the Nord and he started gushing
the alcaholic liquid down his throat. He likley would have drowned had Dreigh not asked for 6 pieces of gold. The Nord slammed the gold on the counter and got back to bisuness. "Gnarl's!" Shouted someone outside. Gnarl attacks were common in passwall, as breeding grounds were directly west of them. The guards (Militia rather) gathered and drew sword's and bow's. After a good fifteen minutes af battle the small group of gnarl's squandered back to the swampy hills to the west.
This was merely and average day for Dreigh living in the madness of Passwall. They all say "I hear it's worse outside the gates." But that was hard for dreigh to beleive as Passwall seemed like hell to him. A loud, deep shriek shook the town. This was not normall though. Everyone ran outside to see what the comotion was about. "Up toward the gates!" shouted Alis-Wide-Eyes, "Someone has killed The Gate Keeper!" No one had beleived her so the town went east towards the gates... Cautiously.
There it was, the mighty Gate Keeper, lying on the cold stone ground... dead. The town was in such a state of shock they had known not what to do. Three men in ebony armor stood over the beast. "By the Nine!" Shouted Glimmeir, the rather pesky Wood Elf.
Up to this day the townsfolk were deeply afraid of the gates. They knew the Gate Keeper was there for a reason, and a damn good one, anyone crazy enough to want to live out there aught to be dead. "This is it.." said Dreigh to himself as he packed a few supplies. "Im out of this hell-hole of a city" and just like that.. he vanished into the pitchblack gates of Dementia...
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My Character:
Name: Dreigh Hlaalu
Race: Dunmer
Age-31
Height-5,11"
Hair Color and Style: Black Hair, Cut short (About a half an inch)
Eye Color: Light Red
Skin Tint: Light Blueish Black (Light skin for a Dunmer)
Body Details: White birthmark on leg in the shape of a six sided star
Clothing: Grey long sleeved shirt, dark grey long pants, brown loafers, bronze amulant.
Armor: none
Currently Wearing: Clothing^
Weapons: Silver long knife
Major Skills: Mercantile, Speechcraft, Alchemy, Short Blade, Unarmored, Mysticism
Unique Skills: Astronomy(Able to tell location by looking at the stars), Cooking, Observation(Sees things most others would just glance by)
Likes: Other Dunmer, venison, cabbage, mythic tales
Dislikes: The cold, boliwogs, gods, arguements
Inventory: Sack: Main Pouch- silver knife, cloths, bread, cabage, potatoes, roasted duck, cantine full of water. Small Pouch- Bandages, socks. Pockets: Left Pocket-13 gold pieces. Right Pocket-none
Random: Right handed, has trouble sleeping, disobediant.
Occupation: Owner of The Crows Inn, in Passwall
Town: Passwall
Background: Born and raised in Passwall when it was just a few shacks near some ruins. His only sister drowned in quicksand near one the swamps wehn Dreigh was 4 years old, she was 7 at the time.
Dreigh's father dies at 56 and his mother died at 50. When the gate leading from Cyrodiil opened, the town grew fast. At the age of 17 Both his parents died 3 months apart from each other, and thats when he
constructed The Crows Inn.
