» Wed Feb 26, 2014 12:20 am The New Pact RP
An RP created by ThePompousAltmer, Henvoraak and Disturbing
GM'ed by Schmuty Buncis, WD40 and ThoseTolerableNoobs
-----------The Plight of Tamriel------------
It has been thirty years since the end of the Great War, and the disease of conflict still grips tightly around Tamriel's hopelessly diverse peoples. From the land hungry, 'noble' warlords in west, to the proud and alien gurilleas in the east - turmoil never sleeps poorly. In Valenwood, it is no different. The province itself is hoarded close by its fascist Thalmor caretakers, but no sooner had word of an uprising, however unsuccessful, in the ancient home of the Nords been recieved than had the Wood Elves drafted up a mockery of it.
The New Pact - born, if this is not a tautology, anew - with the final goal of driving the Thalmor out of Valenwood and firmly across the Blue Divide, began coalescing in the forrests of SIlvenar, and the ears of the teetering Empire were peaked long enough for them to lend a few, discrete hands. Though the rebels began as little more than lauded burgalars, they soon grew when the decorated General Rammel Acilibus came to their helm. With the help of a seasoned human commander, the Pact began to become ever more successful, coming nerve-rackingly close to secreting territory away from the Aldmeri opressors.
But, needless to say, the mightest Empire in all the known world would not stand idly-by whilst a few Imperial backed bandits ravaged the peace in their Elven utopia. No - instead, they sent their own answer. Under General Tarene, and a host of the finest Aldmeri sword the New Pact was beaten and whittled away, such that they had risen and been felled in no less rythmic a fashion that the wheat-great of the Summerset fields. No doubt owing the Thalmor's control of their human neighbours halting any supply lines, within six years the Pact had waned from a formidible force,to a cowering set of outlaws held up once more in their cubby - Bal Fall Hideout.
But it has not all been ill for the rebels. Not a month ago, in the midst of a firece Skrimish, New Pact blades cut down the second most senior commander of the Thalmor task force - Captain Armion - noteable only for the fact that he was the son of one of the most powerful councilors throughout the whole Dominion - and in the political fallout Tarene was swiftly recalled. Better, the commander has been replaced with a mer whose name rings about the provinces, on the lips of any Aldmeri sympathisers, in sentences laced with shame. DIsgraced with violating a crucial tenet of Dominion life and punished with this futile, honourless task - Iachesis Jorus now seeks to destroy the Pact and in so doing reclaim the respect of a state for which his respect is dwindling. Poised now agaist Anin, and his subordinate Engaer, fierce Bosmer and Imperial loyalists, there may be hope for the New Pact yet...
-----------Introduction and Administration------------
Welcome to the New Pact RP, a roleplay idea dreamt up by The Pompous Altmer and catered to by Schmuty Buncis, WD40 and I, ThoseTolerableNoobs. We're a conflict or 'PvP' RP, pitting the forces of the Aldmeri Dominion against the dwindling rebels of the New Pact - an insurgency trying to get rid of those pesky neighbourhood fascists, The Thalmor, from Valenwood. The RP is set six years after the events of The Elder Scrolls V:Skyrim, in which the Empire was victorious, both in their civil war and in preserving the exsistance of the Mede Dynasty and their Emperor. The Dragonborn keeps him (or her) self to him (or her) self, and really doesn't bother anyone.
In the RP you will play as a soldier in , or someone otherwise tied up in the conflict between, The New Pact or the Thalmor. We want to keep this RP as open ended as possible, and so there is a chance for your character to permenantly die (if we deem it dramatic enough), so we welcome you to create alternates. The RP takes place in Valenwood, a map of which you can familiarise youself with here:
http://i11.photobucket.com/albums/a177/SilgradTower/ForumAttachments/vw/valenwoodregions.jpg
So, here's how to get involved:
Character Sheet Template:
Gender:
Race:
Age:
Height:
Faction:
Rank:
Appearance:
Equipment:
Personality:
Background:
Motives:
Hideouts for the two factions will be very important in the RP, so here's a bit of detail on each of them:
Bal Fall Hideout - New Pact:
Name: Bal Fall
Leader: Rammel Acilibus (Imperial)Second-in-Command: Anin (Bosmer)Location: Bal Fall, Silvenar province, Valenwood
Description: The 'Hideout' is, in its present state, comprises of a few lofted wood-huts (imported wood, of course) tied loosley together by a series of knotted ropes and crude ladders, designed to crucially improve defensibility under attack, but nonetheless requiring a level of competence in agility few but the bosmer possess in order to navigate safely. Above and surrounding the huts are finely trimmed trees, and the ground below is littered with mercifully cushioning shrubs, such that the hideout is perhaps only visible in the extremes of the day, when whisps of smoke can be seen bellowing from the carfully hidden chimmneys amongst the trees. Little light penetrates into the complex's core - little more than a large treehouse with a few armourments lined up near useless murder holes - but by that same token little light escapes, and one might only spot the location if they came within a few hundred metres of its base. Access is provided by shouting a passphrase, upon which a rope is lowered from the trees and the Pact member pulled up to safety.
Silvenar City Headquarters - Thalmor:
Name: Justiciar Domaciles - Silvenar ruling district
Leader: Iachesis Jorus (Altmer)Second-in-Command: Synrus (Altmer)
Location: In the centre of Silvenar City, near admisitrive offices
Description: Since the Aldmeri Dominion comprise the de-jure government of Valenwood, they have no need for the sorts of secrecy that the New Pact make use of. They co-ordinate their operations from deep within the city of Silvenar, which already has its own guard to protect Justiiciars when they have their guard down. The justiciar headquarters are a purpose built affair - a splash of Altmeri architechture splintered oddly amonst the naturalistic style of the wood elves. It is built mainly from sturdy, white stone, with decorative vines growing up its sides, though glass has been substituted, typically, for the finest of crystals. The place functions as an attractive, minaturised castle. Inside are all of the provisions for a lavish Summerset lifestyle. Cellars are kept stocked with wine, every minor offical has his or her own dignified office stacked with numerable classic novels, and even the garrisoned soldiers eat fine fruit, and sleep on the most comfortable of matrasses. There is even a crude, oven driven system of underfloor heating in the bathing areas - installed to keep the soldiers in peak physical condition. Needless to say, the armoury is staffed by methodically trained blacksmiths, working with moonstone and steel shipped from Summerset's remarkable supply stores. The Altmer live a life of comfort, though some may say they have become too comfortable for their own good...
Relevant Lore (Thanks to Firelight for compiling this list):
The following lore highlights are courtesy of ThoseTolerableNoobs. Links to the UESP have been added for convenience and additional reference.
As to the lore you need to know for this RP, it's fairly straight forward:
1) As of now, http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Valenwood is under the rule of a Thalmor puppet-king, a member of the http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Camoran_Dynasty. The Camorans are basically the ticket to controlling Valenwood, an old clan whose crowning began the first era.
2) Valenwood was once a confederation of kingdoms created by the Imperials to weaken and split the http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Bosmer. The concept of feudal monarchies is a human one, and under Thalmor rule these kingdoms, and their significance, are reduced.
3) The http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Thalmor is the governing body of the http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Aldmeri_Dominion and they take the form of a council. Since, as I said, kingdoms within kingdoms is a human concept, and that the http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Altmer value magical-intellect or religious fervour most, the council comprises of accomplished, and no doubt feverishly fascist, mages, traders, generals and public figures more so than hereditary rulers.
4) Valenwood's culture can be summed up to the http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Green_Pact. Best if you http://www.imperial-library.info/content/rp-bosmer.
5) Altmer tend to be obsessed with purity - Thalmor officials will quite happily kill "undesirables".
Want to read more about any of these or other Elder Scrolls subjects? http://www.imperial-library.info/ is a wonderful place to start your search, as is the http://www.gamesas.com/topic/1112211-how-to-become-a-lore-buff/ here.
If you'd rather not sift through articles to learn the lore involved with this RP, then these links are for you!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=98_5vQn36ms
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vjSHw_4KeY8
(A note about the above. The ShoddyCast and seem to have a strange penchant for fascism. The Altmer are not the noble and opressed people portrayed in the video, but they are not evil in the majority, either. Watch this for a feel of their culture rather than for solid-lore knowledge. Also, ALTMER DO NOT LIVE FOR 1000 YEARS - THEY'RE LUCKY TO HIT 300!)
The Aldmeri Dominion : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aDNL9i4FYRE and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8EOnccRkfWY
-----------Rules and Accepted Characters------------
Rules:
1. No OP characters.
2. Be respectful to one another and follow the advice of the GMs. If we ask you to change something about your character, please do it.
3. Make sure your posts have a fair amount of detail in them and try not make them too short. This will help eliminate super short posts and keep the RP from going to fast.
4. If you haven't made a post for your character within one month, we as GMs have the right to do whatever we want with your character.
5. Most importantly, HAVE FUN!
Accepted Characters:
Thalmor:
Iselywn - Eirewen
Gender: Female.
Race: Altmer.
Age: 70.
Height: 6'0".
Faction: Thalmor.
Rank: Wizard.
Appearance: A perpetual scowl sculpted between her brows reflect a hard-hearted demeanor, often accompanied by a derisive smirk. She differs little from the traits found amongst her kin, her face long and chiseled with sharp features. Dark hair spills freely down her back, and countless hours of residing indoors have left her with a pale complexion.
Equipment: Favouring robes of black and gold, the garments hang loosely on her shapeless frame, sweeping the ground after her wake. Aside from the pair of studded gems in the tip of each ear, she seems unbothered by vanity.
Personality: Highly ambitious, selfishly so. She mostly keeps to herself, choosing to delve into research. If she must socialize, she prefers the company of like-minded individuals.
Background: Being born in a small, but old family, provided Eirewen with the means of education rich in arcane. Like her kin, she too serves the Thalmor, eagerly striving to achieve more than her predecessors.
Motives: The goals within her grasp.
Firelight - Iriel Aundae
Name: Iriel Aundae
Gender: Female
Race: Altmer
Age: 30
Height: 6’5”
Faction: Thalmor
Rank: Support Mage (works wonders with water/frost and to a lesser extent wind/air, knows various alteration spells and some restoration as well)
Appearance: A slender, tall woman with pale golden skin. Her facial features are sharp yet graceful, complimenting her calm, inquisitive eyes that are the blue-violet of dusk. She keeps her flaxen hair in a http://www.ohthelovelythings.com/2012/10/diy-waterfall-braided-bun-by-hair.html as much for its style as for its sensibleness. Her expression is usually one of quiet contemplation.
For clothes she likes to wear her custom-made leather boots, Thalmor gloves, Thalmor robes (she wears a black blouse and exquisite skirt underneath), and a large dark scarf that doubles as a cowl. For jewellery she wears a signet ring bearing her family crest and a tiny bottle of water (from her favourite fountain) on a long white gold chain.
Equipment: Two waterskins (one backpack style, the other slung around her hip), satchel, journal, calligraphy brush, ink.
Personality: Sheltered from the world and its problems for most her life, Iriel feels lost and troubled by what she’s learning abroad and is quietly trying to decide where she stands on certain matters. She tends to be protective and caring, attempting to prevent the suffering of others when she can. Highly curious, she enjoys sussing out information, though she’s secretive by habit. She also harbours a strange and obsessive love for water.
Background: Iriel had quite the lavish upbringing in Cloudrest, being the only child of highborn and well-off parents. She had everything she could want… well almost everything. Truth be told she was practically kept under lock and key and never allowed outside the family’s estate unless accompanied by her parents or a bodyguard, and even then for only brief outings. It was their way of protecting her, she understood that, but it isolated her from the world she so badly wanted to know, if only because it was the one thing she wasn't allowed.
Not able to socialize with others her age, nor permitted to with the staff, she spent most of her free time alone in the gardens experimenting with spells around her favourite fountain. Oddly enough, this fed into her affinity for water and her ability to manipulate it so easily. Still it did little to ease what she considered to be a boring and lonely existence.
At age 29, she joined up with the Thalmor via smuggled correspondence, desperate to experience life beyond her gilded cage. Once the signed recruitment papers were accepted, there was nothing her parents could do to stop her from leaving without seeming unsupportive of The Dominion – an unwise and dangerous thing in Alinor. Luckily Iriel’s parents weren't fools, and so she was finally free.
Motives: She’s just living her life and trying to do what she thinks is right while seeing the world. However, Iriel’s learning “right” and “wrong” are rarely as straight forward as she’d like.
Lexicon - Synrus:
Race: Altmer
Age: Very old for an Altmer
Height: 7' 4"
Faction: Thalmor
Rank: Justicar (second-in-command?)
Appearance: Tall. Wizened face. Silver, shoulder-length hair. Short white beard around his mouth and underneath his chin. Justicar robes with intricate golden embroidery. Wiry. Bony hands.
Equipment: His ebony sceptre with a stalhrim core, of which he uses to channel his magic.
Personality: Arrogant and irritable.
Background: Served the Thalmor since he was seven hundred years old, rose through the ranks to his venerable standing. Had a daughter, but his wife died a few decades later.
Motives: Serve the Thalmor and save himself.
Lexicon - Vaeleas
Name; Vaeleas
Gender: Male
Race: Altmer/Bosmer
Age: Barely one hundred years old
Height: 6' 11"
Faction: Thalmor (kind of)
Rank: Apprentice
Appearance: Takes quite a bit after his grandfather. Wiry frame, but with a gaunt, youthful face. Short, black hair and round spectacles. Skin is a bit of a darker gold hue to reflect his heritage. A bit shorter than a typical Altmer, but still quite tall among humans. Simple gray tunic with a cobalt blue overcoat and black trousers tucked into his leather boots. He is always seen wearing a satchel and holding a book.
Equipment: He has little weapons, except for a small, unordained rod about the length of a Bosmeri wand (1' 9").
Personality: Passionately curious, and a bit like his grandfather (though not as bad; he'd never forgive himself).
Background: After Synrus's daughter left home and moved to Silvenar, she won the affection of a Bosmer noble with her respectable status, and they courted. She had twins, and they were raised in a beautiful example of Bosmeri architecture, a large tree with roots, knots and branches manipulated to look like reliefs and carvings on an elven mansion.
He lived a life of luxury, and the mystical arts always fascinated him, though his mother would not allow him to be exposed to arcane education. Evenually, his grandfather came to visit, and he soon became his apprentice. But Vaeleas is not overly fond of his grandfather's constant alterations between being a patronizing grandfather and a harsh teacher, though his mother would bitterly remind him of the resemblance between them whenever she could.
Synrus had been gone for a while (and with him, all his books), so Vaeleas had decided to continue his education at a magic college in Falinesti. For two decades he studied there, until Synrus returned. So Vaeleas went back to the lessons he hated, just to one day learn the secrets his grandfather knows...
Motive: Learn the powerful magic he knows his grandfather knows, and discover where he learned such magic.
Lexicon - Aejezra:
Race: Khajiit; Suthay (or whatever represents a leopard; I forget)
Age: 19
Height: 5' 11"
Faction: The Thalmor pay her group.
Rank: Watches the camp.
Appearance: Pale, spotted fur. Hair in dreadlocks and tied behind her save for a few strands falling in front of her face, both sides extending to the shoulders. A few gold rings in her small ears. Wears little clothing; torn breeches are all she wears (Naked torso). Large briasts and small hands.
Equipment: She wears a dagger at her hip, though that is not her weapon of choice. She is extremely skilled with a bow, skilled enough to rival a Bosmer, and she carries with her a longbow and a shortbow, with twenty-seven arrows in her quiver.
Personality: Rash and immature.
Background: When she had finally discovered her cousin had joined a group of assassins in Senchal, Aejezra wished to be initiated as well. Her cousin was the only family she had left, and she wished to stay with family. Unfortunately, her desire to remain with her family was once again unrequited, and while she was not often assigned with him, he made sure to displayed his hatred for her whenever he got the opportunity.
Though having only been in the organization for little more than a year, her skill with archery had been recognized as unparalleled by almost all the members of the group. This had earned her the spot she now occupies: travelling with her cousin, one of the Elites, and another assassin, on a very important mission, possibly the most important contract.
However, she was not tolerated much by her cousin, and the other assassin, while seeming to be apathetic, must have thought the same. When they had "recruited" their mage, shortly after they set off for this long and arduous contract, Aejezra felt she had a new friend, though the mage eventually started to loathe her as well. They have been doing these lucrative tasks set by their client for almost as long as the war had been going on, and now it seems like their contract might soon come to a close.
Motive: Find somewhere where she is welcome.
Lexicon - Mi'Arda:
Race: Khajiit; Dagi-Raht
Age: 27
Height: 5'3"
Faction: Her client is aligned with the Thalmor.
Rank: Mage and Healer
Appearance: Has snow white fur with streaks of black and grey down her back and face in a pattern. Her eyes are a piercing, bestial gold, her nose bridge has a peculiar black spot darker than all of her stripes, and her long whiskers are slightly bent in places. Though this would be difficult to see, as she wears robes that cover most of her body and half of her face. The robes are a basic teal colour, made of a thick, coarse fabric, and seem to be much too big for her small body, with voluminous folds visible everywhere and the back dragging behind her despite her best efforts to hold them up.
Equipment: A staff made of gnarled wood, standing a foot above her head. She also carries a few Welkynd Stones to channel her magick.
Personality: Educated and willing to help. Placid on most occasions, although her companions break this calm behaviour with their idiotic arguing. Prefers diplomatic solutions to physical confrontation. Believes in doing what is good.
Background: Mi'Arda was born in Northpoint, a snowy kingdom in High Rock. Her parents were servants to a noble with a peculiar fetish for Khajiit, and watching her mother being harassed by her employer one day became too much for her. She left home at the age of sixteen, a small Khajiit in the cold wildnerness with no way to defend herself. Just as she was about to succumb to a frozen death, a wandering traveller saved her life.
This man was a Breton, who was going to Alinor to learn more about the arcane arts. Mi'Arda was always passionately curious about the mages she'd seen at the festivals held in Northpoint, but her family could not afford lessons at a college. She readily agreed to accompany the man, and within five years she was already expelled from the college she attended for her michevious antics.
It would have seemed that every magick school on the Summerset Isle heard about this troublesome cat, because her applications were rejected at every school she tried to attend. So she left for Valenwood, and took schooling in Falinesti. Soon she left of her own accord, because studying Elsweyr in a history class made her realize that she knew nothing about her homeland. So she left for Torval, and upon arrival she found famine and illness. She used all the healing magick she knew to help these impoverished people. She enjoyed being there because people had remarked about her odd race all her life, and now she was among people like her. But this did not last too long.
Soon she was kidnapped, and found herself speaking to a member of this local assassin guild called the Krindar. They wanted to enlist her as one of the few magick users they had, and she accepted only out of fear of death, for she felt she had no other option. She went on few missions, as her healing abilities were required at headquarters, but those missions were petty burglar tasks, and she did them with reluctance. Soon she was assigned to accompany this group headed to Valenwood for a massive mission, and they needed her magick. She accepted to go back to Valenwood, and she has been with this group ever since.
Motive: Help the good people.
Sch - Sirilonwe:
Gender: Female
Race: Bosmer
Age: 77
Height: 5‘9
Faction: Thalmor
Rank: Scout
Appearance: Lithe and angular physique, with a longish, very vulpine facial structure. She looks for all the world like a short Altmer, albeit a feral one, more emotive and with sharper teeth. Her eyes are liquid copper, and her hair is dark blonde.
Equipment: A thin wool pair of pants and shirt, a bonemold bow, a small satchel full of potions and ingredients, foot wraps, leather bracers and two steel daggers. A pair of mortars and pestles, one set of which is smaller and lower quality to bring on missions, and the other which stays with her calcinator, retort and alembic at the Thalmor camp. The alchemy equipment at the camp has been more-or-less commandeered for the war effort, and is treated as common military property.
Motives: She recognizes that her Bosmeri ancestors strayed from Auriel’s teachings, and are now genetically deficient as compared to the Altmer. She believes this weakness allowed the Imperials to overrun them, which further corrupted their way of life, and compromised the defense of Summerset against Tiber Septim.
As a result, she is very penitent for her race’s perceived sins, and very adoring of High Elves. She does not hate men, or even beast races, but thinks they have gotten out of control. The Thalmor are only perceived as violent and terrible because they are trying to reverse the process of colonisation, degradation and exploitation, which most Bosmer are simply used to by now.
Background: She grew up in Falinesti, after the Thalmor liberation. The Imperials she met were kind as individuals, but she knew that as a nation they coveted Bosmeri resources and wouldn’t be able to stop themselves from trying to get them. At the young age of 18 she began a training regimen specifically in hopes to join the army. She was accepted at twenty-five and began training in subterfuge, living off the land, alchemy, armour and weapon repair, archery, and cleanup.
At 36, she was one of many young patriots to help root out the Blades agents in Valenwood, personally killing one in his sleep, and offering information that led to the 'capture' of two more. She helped infiltrate Bravil in the Great War, and anxiously waited in the city the signing of the White-Gold Concordat, at which point she resumed her training regimen and awaited new orders.
SchmutyBuncis - Lorana :
Gender: Female
Race: Altmer
Age: 109
Height: 6’3”
Faction: Thalmor
Rank: Battlemage
Appearance: Standing at a height of 6’3”, sporting a lean build, Lorana is short for an Altmer her age. With skin a light, golden complexion, she has high cheekbones, a narrow jaw, thin lips and a pair of hard, amber eyes. Her sharp features give her a look of firmness, a stern stare underlined with a hint of cynicism. She is a person who smirks when she smiles and grimaces when she frowns. Her hair is a chestnut brown, tidy and only passing her shoulders.
Equipment: A red gambeson, worn with a leather gorget, vambraces, greaves and a pair of gloves. Under that, she wears a simple tan shirt and trousers, with a pair of leather boots. Her only weapon is a steel shortsword.
Personality: Candid, she is direct and forthright. Lorana does not appreciate people who hint what they want, or ‘beat-around-the-bush’ so to speak. A critical thinker, she enjoys solving puzzles but also finds the fault in things. Determined and tenacious, Lorana likes to get things done, and done correctly. She values order, discipline, and structure. Loyal to the Aldmeri Dominion, she holds high respect for her superiors and follows orders without hesitation. That being said, she genuinely cares for her people and comrades and is quite the superficial joker.
Background: Born to a wealthy family in Cloudrest, Lorana grew up well and educated, comfortable under a social hierarchy. Leaving Cloudrest at twenty-five, she travelled to Dusk where she befriended a merchant. At fifty-three, she joined the military with a wave of the hand, really only joining because her merchant friend had. Having finished her rigorous military training, she specialised in becoming a battlemage, taking further training in Destruction. When the Great War broke out, her parents and siblings expressed their concern, but also their opinions against the Dominion. However, Lorana was too stubborn to listen. Holding very black-and-white views, she believed the Dominion was doing good, staying loyal to them. By 4E 172, she took part in the advance towards Cyrodiil, serving in the War until the end.
Meeting up with her parents once more, they had become so against the Dominion and the war, wishing to leave. Still, she helped them escape, where (to her knowledge) they now live in High Rock. She now awaits orders with the counter insurgency in the Silvenar Forest.
Motives: Perceives the rebels to be a threat to her people. She believes that the Thalmor are the only ones who can keep the peace, and keep things right.
ThoseTolerableNoobs - Iachesis Jorus:
Gender: Male
Race: Altmer
Age: 170
Height: 7ft 9inches
Faction: Aldmeri Dominion
Rank: Justiciar
Appearance: Sports a paler variety of the typically golden skin of the Altmer, a condition no doubt-owing to his advancing years, offset by bright orange eyes which set him out as being strikingly unusual looking. He has mottled and unkempt, though thoroughly clean, grey hair dusting above his shoulders, though little other facial hair, even eyebrows, which are strangely thin. Other than this he maintains and athletic build, muscular in the arms and thin around the torso, and is well equipped for the kind of athletic mobility required for life in Valenwood's forests.
Equipment: Wears typical Justiciar robes, even in spite of the lack of practical functionality in Valenwood's jungles, though mainly keeps the hood down. Beneath this he wears a thin plate of elven armour to protect from any wry blows that get past his remarkable sword-work. On his right thigh he carry two swords, the top of Ebony-make, and glistening with a fervour that reeks of lack-of-use. Beneath this is a more battered model of steel - almost imperial kind - which has the mark of frequent use.
Skills: Extremely seasoned dualist, having trained for many years with his fellow Justiciars, though will tend to prefer single or small group combat to large scale warfare. Is also proficient in magic, knowing many adept and quite a few expert spells in the restoration and destruction schools - though detests and refuses to use the conjuration school. Is athletic, though not as young as he once was, and will probably have difficulty adapting to the speed and agility to combat effectively in the forests. However, Iachesis is markedly intelligent, and would be well suited to turning combat to his favour.
Personality: Typically condescending and erudite, Iachesis talks quickly, and often expects other people to keep up with his lines of thought, taking little time to explain things. Though he prefers quite introspection in his free time, he can be quite chatty when pinned down to a topic he enjoys - especially concerning his passion, tea.
Background: Iachesis was born as their heir to some modestly wealthy lords in the northern isles, just as the first of the political upheavals began to shape Summerset into the Thalmor-police state that has harried the Empire since it's birth. The Jorus family, well integrated into the Imperialised economy and profiting greatly from it, were turned overnight from respected traders to detestable public enemies, and Iachesis began to fear greatly for his life. To the dismay of his parents, who were staunchly morally inclined against the Thalmor's purism, he signed up with the Justiciars and left his family to their inevitable prosecution.
Whilst in the Thalmor he became ferverously anti-imperial. This resentment, however, was not found in any form of disgust with the race of man, but the great irony their attitude to the dominion represented. Most Imperials spoke of the evil of the Thalmor's ambition to bring Tamriel under absolute elven control. To Iachesis' chagrin, they often failed to account for the fact that for four-hundred years the races of men had complete dominance over the elven lands of Morrowind, Summerset and Valenwood, and that at no point had the hereditary Septim line afforded any other race to take the Throne.
Recognising the fervour, the Justiciars decided to assign Iachesis to the skirmish forces in Valenwood, to help train the local population to drive out the a Empire whilst other operatives lured the Camoran's to their side with political cloak and dagger. Whilst here Iachesis was promoted to a commanding position, and told to oversee the removal of "undesirables". This was the first taste of Thalmor fascism, but fear and indoctrination overrode his better judgement, and he passed the atrocious orders expected of him, including levelling several farmer villages containing deformed citizens.
This turned out to be ironic, as many years later after the Great War, the loss of life in which bumped Iachesis to a senior position in the Justiciars in Alinor City, Iachesis came to be on the recieving end of the Thalmor's intolerance. For the past twenty years, the seasoned Justiciar had been harbouring a secret, a son. The infant had been born healthy, and with a slightly uncivilised ability to squeal - nothing out of place - save for a small, but nonetheless damning, cleft pallet streaking down his cheek. This defect, in the child of a senior government member would have demanded its rejection, but Iachesis allowed a compassionate flaw to overtake him, and he raised the son as he would have a complete one, though suitably in the dark.
However, this tactic could not last forever. The child was discovered, and Iachesis, upon trying to defend him, was arrested. His son was taken away, no doubt executed, and Iachesis assigned to Valenwood as a punishment, and to make a point of his fall from grace.
Motives: - Iachesis has mixed motives. On one hand, he dislikes the Empire for the hippocrisy, and for the years he spent fighting them, and resents their interference in Elven affairs. This should lead him to fight against the pact. On the other, the "death" of his son has left him jaded as to the Thalmor's true purpose, and with a sense of self loathing, as in his capacity as a Justiciar he has caused similar pain to other families. He is torn between staying true to his life, and what he has fought for, and a growing need for atonement.
GhostlySentinel Gender: Male Race: Half-blood Altmer and Imperial Age: Around 270 Height: 6'6 Faction: Thalmor Rank: Contractor Appearance: His face is framed by long black hair, and his golden skinned face is set with brown eyes. He is muscled, but not bulky. His features are a bit less harsh than some Altmer, likely owing to his Cyrodiillian father. Equipment: A sweeping black hooded cloak, with a white shirt and black pants complete with high leather boots made from brown leather. He is armed with a long, slender rapier. He relies on speed to avoid attacks, not bothering with armor or shields. Personality: He's quiet and reserved, always standing at the back of a group and always seems to be watching you. He does not make many of his opinions known, but on the inside he's indifferent to most people. He rarely feels love, and never hate. He works as a bounty hunter for material gain, not moral reasons. Background: His parents raised him in the Imperial City. They were loving, but always strict when it came to his studies. He learned much from an early age, but never took to the use of magic. He always liked the weight of a blade in his hand. From the time he was eleven he was winning private competitions against mer twice his age. His mother liked to say that it was the Imperial coming out in him. Unfortunately, as he grew into an advlt he was never quite happy in the civilian setting of his home. He'd spent his youth learning languages, geography and swordsmanship. Would he waste all that knowledge in the Imperial city? At the age of seventy-one, he decided to join the Fighter's Guild. He rose quickly through the ranks quickly, and by the time the gates to Oblivion opened he was ready to lead an assault on his own. Thirty men charged into a gate to hell when it opened, and only one came out when it closed. The days he spent in Oblivion passed like years for the half breed, and he had been tortured in ways that should not have been possible. When he was ejected from the gate, he simply knelt, half naked and scarred in the burned grass for two days, trying to forget. He left his identity in Oblivion, his name still strapped to a torture rack. It did not take him long to let go of his feelings and find a peaceful bliss in between ignorance and enlightenment. It was then that he took up mercenary work, making up a name for every job that he took. He eventually found himself hunting down pockets of Imperial resistance during the Great War, and then Stormcloaks during the Civil War of Skyrim. After that, he took up bounty hunting, and gave himself the permanent name of Hunter. He hunted fugitives for counts and criminals alike, until his latest contract, five hundred septims for a jewel thief. The thief led him all the way to Silvenar City, then vanished. Hunter wasn't in the habit of letting jobs go, but at this point he was at his ropes end after chasing the man across two provinces. He's thinking of checking in to see if the Thalmor have any work now.. Motives: Gold, jewels and any other miscellaneous rishes you may have on hand.
The New Pact:
Gender: Male
Race: Bosmer
Age: 50
Height: 5'8"
Faction: The New Pact
Rank: Volunteer/Ranger
Appearance: Has a wiry build, short black hair with a military cut, tanned skin. Green eyes and a permanent frown.
Equipment: Standard gear for wilderness survival, some trail rations, travel clothes and a mottled cloak for camoflage, For combat he has a very worn set of studded leather, a handaxe, short sword, long knife, and a yew shortbow, with 20 steel arrows.
Personality: The New Pact's situation has made him a dour individual and he can be gruff, although he tries to be team player when all is said and done. In battle he becomes a cold and merciless being, a real lone wolf.
Background: He and his had a nomadic existence, however after his family got caught up in the chaos of the civil war in Skyrim, he came to Valenwood alone with only his gear and bitter lessons. He immediatly joined the New Pact and is ready to put his skills at their disposal.
Motives: He wants to destroy the Thalmor for their part in his family's death and wants to see how the New Pact will function, as they may become his next target. He has suspicions of rebel groups after the Stormcloaks forced his family to shelter them under threat of violence, so if the New Pact causes too much collateral damage he may betray them.
{TWC}Mithrandir - :Seldryn Indoril
Name: Seldryn Indoril
Gender: Male
Race: Dunmer
Age: 43
Height: 5'11
Faction: The New Pact
Rank: Volunteer/Duelist
Appearance: Very fit, but of lean muscle rather than bulk and strength. He is bald, with what always seems like a few days' stubble on his face. His skin is of the typical ash color of the common Dunmer and he has several small scars across his body, most due to accidents of his own fault than wounds in battle, with the exception of two parallel scars running across his nose and his right brow at a slight angle.
Equipment: Dark gray trousers and shirt, and a tunic that splits at the waist and falls to just below the knees. Above this he wears a battered bonemold cuirass, bracers, and boots. On top of all of this he wears a dark red sash at the waist and a scarf of the same color around his neck, both of a worn, knitted cloth. He carries an unadorned ebony longsword of Dunmer make with a hand-and-a-half hilt, sheathed on his back, and a dagger made from chitin of Morrowind.
Personality: Ever seeking a challenge, Seldryn is amiable and carefree in manner, working hard not to let things stress him out. He is quick to share his dry wit with both friend and foe, and while he speaks recklessly and often crudely, he does not set himself above those he comes into contact with.
Background: A native of the city of Blacklight in Morrowind, Seldryn was born too late to take part in what he saw were the heroic conflicts of the Oblivion Crisis, the Argonian invasion of Morrowind, and the Great War. He sees this as a disappointment, and left his homeland after briefly serving as a footsoldier for House Redoran to aid in challenging causes. His participation in the Skyrim Civil War as a Stormcloak volunteer made him a certified freedom fighter in his mind, and he travels now to find more worthy fights.
Motives: Ever seeking a challenge, Seldryn was drawn to the New Pact by their enemies rather than their own motives. He has yet to pit himself against the Aldmeri Dominion, now arguably the most powerful faction on Tamriel, and sees the New Pact as the perfect way to test them - and himself - in the contest of arms. Seldryn also is eager to share in hardship nobly endured wherever he can find it, and he sees this in the Bosmer and Imperials of the New Pact. He spurns coin and anything but temporary titles, taking fulfillment in this war from challenging fights, camaraderie, and the spoils of war.
Firelight - Athrahil:
Gender: Female
Race: Bosmer
Age: 38
Height: 5’9”
Faction: The New Pact
Rank: Scout and Healer
Appearance: At first glance she appears to be a pretty little thing; with her large golden eyes, high cheekbones, soft-pink lips, and delicate scooped noise, she seems almost better suited for a life of luxury instead of one in the wilds. On closer inspection however, her teeth are disquietingly sharp, her keen eyes too much like a wolf’s, and her movements somehow predatory in their deliberateness. She keeps her lean and light skinned frame painted in red ocher, completely covering her hands, arms, feet, legs and neck. Her rich-brown hair hangs a mere inch above her shoulders in a cascade of waves, adorned with a scattering of assorted feathers tied into it.
Equipment: Blowpipe, poisoned blow darts, steel khukuri, hide shield, medic’s kit (contains gauze, needles, thread, truncates, etc.), a couple poultices, several strange tonics, a waterskin, animal fat, flint, and a mixture of red ocher in a sturdy jar.
(Apparel) Mended fur cuirass complete with shawl, leather greaves that end just below the knees, a belt with several wolf and foxtails hanging off the back, leather bracers, and huntsman’s moccasins with a small fringe of feathers sewn around the ankles.
When not in her armour --which is rare-- she usually runs about in a tattered woad robe.
Personality: Athrahil’s best described as spirited and a touch eccentric. Free with her affections and opinions, she’s known to be teasing and audacious with friends or strangers alike, regardless of their social standing, and is always ready for a good laugh, especially if it involves irony. Athrahil also adores nature and is something of a follower of Y’ffre; though she doesn't adhere strictly to his teachings, they do usually influence her ideas and actions to some degree. Despite her wild appearance and participation in the rebellion, she hates needless bloodshed and death, going so far as to be an advocate of fair treatment for the New Pact’s prisoners.
Background: Born just outside Elden Root to environmentally minded Bosmeri parents (aren't they all?), Athrahil was brought up to live in harmony with the land, hunting and taking only what she needed. As a result, she has quite the knowledge of local flora and fauna, and is more than capable of hiding or moving stealthily amid forest. At the age of 24 she decided to become a guide to the wilds of Valenwood, sharing her love and knowledge of nature --she also saw it as a way to protect the uninitiated from the dangers of the forest while protecting the forests from their ignorance.
Around age 36 the Thalmor took an interest in Athrahil’s work as a guide and began to question her about it. This shortly escalated to accusations of treason, resulting in Athrahil’s detainment for several weeks and a full search and seizer of her property. Of course, at this time she was completely innocent --as statements from locals proved-- and was pardoned with her belongs returned to her, but Athrahil’s stay in prison had already done its damage.
Between the abuse and the thinly veiled threats she endured at the hands of the Thalmor, she realised she would've been tortured or put to death had no evidence been found to prove her innocent or guilty. It was at this revelation that she began to truly appreciate the state of fear many already felt living under Dominion rule, unable to ignore it any longer. The truth, as she was convinced, was that the Thalmor were out of control. Someone had to act.
In a desperate attempt to protect her family and friends, Athrahil cut off all ties with them in the most unpleasant of terms, praying the bad blood would distance them from her. She then waited a few months before slipping away to join the New Pact, a resistance group she’d heard whispers about.
Motives: She simply seeks freedom. To do what she wants with whom she wants without fear of making herself or her loved ones a target for harm. Since she’s unwilling to leave Valenwood to lead such a life, there was just one other option left...
WD40 - Anin :
Gender – Male
Race – Bosmer
Age – 63
Height – 5’9
Faction – The New Pact
Rank – Scout
Appearance – Anin is very skinny, even for elven standards. His body looks fragile and weak from his apparent lack of nutrition. His face is gaunt, almost ghoulish and his eyes are slightly sunken. He has shoulder length dark brown hair, with one thick braid on the left and right sides, framing his face. His eyes are steel blue, but somewhat faded. Into battle, he paints his face to match the forest floor.
Equipment – Anin carries a long bow, a quiver with steel arrows, a steel dagger and two small vials of poison. He wears very light sack cloth pants and top, which he’s covered in leaves and sticks to act as camouflage.
Personality – Out of battle, Anin is nice, but somewhat reserved. He prefers the company of small numbers only, never putting himself into large gatherings. Though reserved, he isn’t shy. When he feels his opinion needs to be expressed he is vocal and stubborn. In battle, Anin is cunning and ruthless, showing no mercy for the enemy.
Background – Anin was born to poor parents working as indentured servants under a rich Breton family from Cyrodil. From a young age, he had wanted to travel to the Bosmer homelands, to live as his ancestors had. When he became of age he ran away from the life of servitude meant for him, and arrived in Silvenar.
Upon learning of the New Pact, Anin trained to become a scout, learning to live without supplies for weeks at a time, and perfecting the arts of stealth and archery. He became adept in the use of his surroundings as concealment, and in the gathering of poisons of the area.
Motives – Anin is motivated by his love of his homeland, and to see it brought back to its rightful holders.
Souperintendent - Dominic Vesuvius (I'm putting you in New Pact - seems logical. The Thalmorcha a fairly decent spy network - certainly better than the Imperials)
Gender: Male
Race: Imperial
Age: 37
Height: 5'7"
Faction: Penitus Oculatus, Imperial Legion
Rank: Inspector
Appearance: Here's reference images of the more original, artistically licensed character:
-http://i362.photobucket.com/albums/oo66/Dimentio343/2013-09-22_00005_zps8411f967.jpg
-http://i362.photobucket.com/albums/oo66/Dimentio343/2013-09-22_00003_zps9401ef68.jpg
-http://s362.photobucket.com/user/Dimentio343/media/2013-09-22_00004_zps378ff15e.jpg.html[/size]
-http://s362.photobucket.com/user/Dimentio343/media/2013-09-22_00006_zpseb2a3f1e.jpg.html[/size]
And here's some of a more conformed, canonical version (whichever is preferred):
-http://i362.photobucket.com/albums/oo66/Dimentio343/2013-09-02_00001_zpsa1a93c81.jpg
-http://i362.photobucket.com/albums/oo66/Dimentio343/2013-09-02_00002_zpsd81df089.jpg
Equipment: (Relative to the above options)Personality:[/size]Imperial to the core. Intelligent, strategic, and swift, Dominic prefers precision to brute force. He is very logical and rational, but also very passionate about his work--his work being fighting for the good of the Empire. He often comes up with his own ideas and plans, but honors the chain of command and follows his orders. He is also quite religious, showing great reverence for all the Eight Divines, Akatosh in particular. In his past, he was quite warm, upbeat, and friendly, but after an occasion where he gravely failed in his duties, he became a cold, aloof soldier, whose only focus is on the mission at hand. He insists on wearing full body armor,Background: Dominic was born and raised in the Imperial City to a fair couple, his father being a Legionairre and his mother being a seamstress. He never really knew them, however, because when he was only two years old, the Great War broke out, and his father was away on duty, while his mother had to work harder than ever to raise a child and make enough money to do so. When he was five, the Thalmor invaded the Imperial City. His mother hid him in their cellar, but she was murdered by the Thalmor invaders, and Dominic's father was slain trying to defend them. They never found Dominic, who, despite being scarred, scared, and alone, managed to survive on his own, scavenging food and water long enough for the Empire to retake the city. It was later in his life that he came to believe that Akatosh had guided him through the ordeal and saved him, as his mother was a devout worshiper of the deity. However, he came out with a split outlook on life; one half wished to do good in the world and be charitable in the name of the Divines, and the other wanted to butcher every Mer on Tamriel.
Now an orphan, he grew up in a crowded orphanage full of children whose family was lost to the war. He was quite a loner in his first weeks, but eventually came to make friends, enjoying their company, but also enemies. Having survived on his own through the most heated part of the Great War, Dominic was no pushover. He fought with those who antagonized him relentlessly, eventually commanding the respect of all the children in the orphanage, whether he wanted it or not. Unadopted, he was forced to leave once he reached advlthood, but all his family's wealth had been destroyed along with his mother and father. But during his time, he did much reading on Tamriel's history, especially that concerning the Empire. Realizing that he was not meant for civilian life, Dominic joined the Imperial Legion immediately, following in his father's footsteps, just as much to honor him as much as he wished to avenge him.
Dominic's discipline, along with his natural agility, stealth, and survival skills which he had developed during the invasion of the Imperial City, earned him quick progression through the ranks of the Legion. It gave him a new identity--a new family. For the first time in his life, he had a purpose to serve, and for what the Legion had given him, he swore to fight for the Empire until his dying breath. This conviction was not missed by thorough eyes, as within a few years of service, Dominic was asked to join the Penitus Oculatus. The opportunity to join such a prestigious organization under the Emperor himself was an incredible honor, so he did so without hesitation. However, his initiation gave him his first moral dilemma, as he was required to kill a young girl. It took him hours of deliberation before coming to the conclusion that this was for the greater good of the Empire, and therefore Tamriel. Once the decision had been made, he carried out his mission without hesitation.
Being an Inspector, Dominic now engaged in many assassination and espionage missions throughout Tamriel. It was through his tours that he came across Thalmor for the first time since the Battle of the Red Ring. Every fiber of his being yearned to slit their yellow throats and watch the life fade from their eyes, but, knowing his place and the current political climate, he left his sword in its place. However, he grew a habit of keeping an eye on the elves, whether out of suspicion or to fantasize them burning alive. In order to mask his eyes as to not raise suspicion of himself, he adopted a full-head, closed Imperial helmet to mask his face. Eventually, after wearing it for many years, it became almost like a second skin. He wore it day and night, on and off duty. It was his new identity; a fierce Inspector of one of the deadliest military organizations in Tamriel.
Much like in his Legion days, Dominic was met with success. This eventually earned him a seat as one of Emperor Titus Mede II's personal guards. He took it as a great honor, but did not see much action. The Emperor's company was enjoyable, and they often talked about political matters, but their relationship was strictly professional. It was during this time that the Emperor was due for a visit in Skyrim. Dominic had yearned to be stationed there, as the growing Stormcloak rebellion was making his blood boil with every mention of them. The idea that such a mindless, irresponsible group of barbarians would dare to disrupt the peace and fight with the Empire instead of the real enemy, the Thalmor, made him despise them almost as much as the Thalmor themselves. However, he was strictly on guard duty, not being able to deal with the crisis whatsoever, which made him very disappointed. Instead, he was sent to investigate rumors of a Dark Brotherhood assassination plot, which he found as grave a matter as the Civil War, and instantly wished to help with. Once Commander Maro located their hideout, Dominic was sent with a regiment of agents to go and wipe them out. He did so with extreme prejudice, burning the place to the ground.
When he returned to the Katariah to celebrate with his comrades, he boasted with his friends about the pitiful Dark Brotherhood and the glory of the Empire. This was the first time in his service that he felt a kinship with his fellow men. In fact, it was the first time he felt kinship with anyone since the orphanage. However, he found the celebration to be short-lived. An assassin, likely from the Dark Brotherhood, had infiltrated the ship and murdered the Emperor. All while he was on board. He was unharmed physically, but mentally, he felt that he had failed in his duty in the greatest way possible. He went many sleepless days contemplating whether or not he should resign from the Penitus Oculatus or not. After great deliberation, he resolved to stay, but now he would be a man with only one purpose and one alone: serve the Empire. No friends, no emotion. He and his uniform were now one entity.
His life was from then on one mission after another. He carried them out with ruthless efficiency, caring not for how many casualties he inflicted or suffered, nor to whom. This mindset and absolute loyalty meant that he would be perfect for the mission he now has to complete. A revered Imperial general, Rammel Acilibus, had defected to Valenwood and started his own militant group there to fight for independence from the Aldmeri Dominion. The Empire, troubled greatly by one of their own being the cause of this, seeing it as a threat to both their tenuous relationship with the Thalmor, as well as with the possibility that he could end up divulging important Imperial secrets.
It was then decided that Dominic should be sent to Valenwood to assist the Thalmor in capturing the leader of the New Pact, as a sign that the Empire was not behind this insurrection and that they wanted it to end as well. However, the Thalmor denied this request and shut out all Imperial eyes, ears, and mouths from the province. As much as Dominic wanted to bring this traitor to justice, the idea of working with the damned elves almost made him vomit inside his helmet.
The risk still remained that Rammel Acilibus would be captured and give the Thalmor information that the Empire would desperately wish to keep confidential. Deciding that the risk of this happening was greater than the risk of secretly intervening, the Penitus Oculatus resolved to send Dominic in anyways, in secret, to spy on how things unfold. The possibility that the New Pact could win was always a possibility, so the mission was purely espionage. But if worse came to worse, he'd have to assassinate Acilibus with absolute secrecy before he fell into Thalmor hands.
Motives: Dominic Vesuvius wishes for nothing more than to serve the Empire. He despises all Mer, Altmer and Bosmer alike, especially the Thalmor. However, despite his desire to butcher them, he must restrain himself and follow his orders. His primary objective is to ensure that Rammel Acilibus is not captured and to not be seen by either side. He's at a quandary with the battle, however. He does not want the Thalmor to win, as he'd rather seem them fail and not get their hands on any Imperial secrets, but he also despises Acilibus for his disloyalty to the Empire and feels that he should be killed for his crimes. However, these are merely tiny voices in the mind of a man so absolutely committed to duty and mission that he blocks out all personal impulse from his actions.[/size]
Starvdarmy - Arannir
Gender: Male
Race: Bosmer
Age: 25
Height: 5.8 foot
Faction: The New Pact
Rank: Battle Archer (on the frontlines with the soldiers)
Appearance: Lean, Sharp, Angular face, A bit of dirt on his face. Skinny but fit. Warhawk hairstyle, Stubble beard. Brown eyes. His skin color is white. Dark brown hair, slight muscles on his arms, and a scar running from the bottom of his right eye to the corner of his right upper lip.
Equipment: The Family Bow Of Pain. Steel Dagger x2. Forest Camouflaged Thieves Guild Armour (Version from Skyrim). One bottle of paralysis.
Personality: Kind to His kinsman, and generally all of the shunned races as he can relate to them. He is often sarcastic and has a rebelish personality. If you get on his bad side he will kill you mercilessly, he is bipolar (can go from being really happy one second to in a rage the next). He has no mercy to any thalmor due to them killing his father.
Background: Born and raised in valenwood, Arannir is very protective of his homeland, and has become a natural climber from climbing trees and doing parkour since the age of 14. His father was killed by a thalmor agent for daring to insult the Aldmeri Dominion. When his father died he changed dramitically, no longer being the happy kid, but being the kid that would go from being in a rage, to sobbing like a baby. Because of his unpredictable moods he was shunned by his former friends. He became an outcast, hating thalmor with a passion. As he grew older he became more aware of the other provinces, especially Skyrim, for he could not imagine a place covered in snow. As he started to learn more about Skyrim he learned that there had been a rebellion, and that Valenwood has its own little Resistance group, called the New Pact. So he joined up.
Motives: He joined the New Pact because he wanted to rid his land of the yellow pigs that call themselves thalmor, and give Valenwood back to its rightful owners, the Bosmer.
Starvdarmy - Saryn Andrethi
Gender: Male
Race: Dunmer (Dark Elf)
Age: 45
Height: 6.0 ft
Faction: New Pact
Rank: Skirmisher (On the frontline before anyone else)
Appearance:
Head: Scar on his right cheek from when he was clawed by a bear. Eye patch over his left eye. battle-weary look. Dirty face, and slight stubble for a beard. He has short, spiky hair.
Body: Muscled but skinny, and has multiple scars over his torso area.
Eye Colour: Red eyes.
Equipment:
Clothes (for when he isn't wearing armour): Miners shirt, boots, cowl.
Armour: Dawnguard Amour (brown colour version. Light Armour version with sleeves, heavy armour closed helmet, all the rest light armour. can be seen here)
Weapons: Scimitar, Dawnguard Shield, and a two handed steel great sword (Great-sword is strapped to his back) (Scimitar can be seen here, Great-Sword can be seen here)
Equipment: Backpack, Utility Chest Strap (going diagonally across chest). Sleeping bag (strapped to top of Backpack).
Backpack: Weeks worth of rations (7 cooked beef, 7 apples, 4 bottles of mead, two 3 litre bottles of water). 3 Small healing potions, Bandages, 4 bottles of Skooma.
Personality: He is usually nice to the rest of the New Pact. On the battlefield he is evil and cunning, and stops at nothing to kill his enemy. He enjoys a laugh, and has a good sense of humour. He is very kind to all "Dark Elves", be they Ashlanders or Dunmer. He doesn't like Nords all that much, because of their racism, but he does give them a chance.
Background: Born in Morrowind, but grew up in Skyrim. He lived in a small farm in the Rift, and joined the imperial legion when the civil war started. Be fought against many Stormcloaks but eventually he was honourably discharged because he was shot in the eye by an Stormcloak archer. He went to join up with the Dawnguard once he heard about them, but they didn't let him because of his eye, but they did give him some armour for his trouble. He returned back to his farm and lived there for the next three years, and got all his supply's from his own farm. One day a courier came up to him, and said that they needed his merchandise in Whiterun because its farms weren't producing enough. So he went to Whiterun, and headed to the jarls palace. When he got there the jarls advisor offered him 10,000 septims for his farm. He accepted the offer, and as he was walking away the jarl called out to him and asked him to kill some bandits, so he did. When he got back a woman walked up to him and asked him to be her bodyguard. He accepted and was a bodyguard until he was 30. When he reached 30 he snapped, the person he was supposed to be protecting was racist as hell so he chopped him up with his scimitar, robbed his possessions and started a bandit group. During the 13 years before he moved to Valenwood he traveled all over Tamriel, killing many. He eventually made his way to Valenwood at the age of 43, and disbanded the banded group because he felt too old to be a bandit. He retired at a small village in Valenwood called Silveani village. He did odd jobs around the village, and protected it from attackers. One day he was fighting a group of bandits and was heavily outnumbered, when a wood elf shot down 4 of them with his bow, and killed the last one with his dagger, the wood elf turned out to be Arannir, and they have been friends ever since.
Motives: He feels inclined to help out Arannir in any way he can, he loves fighting, and has seen how mean the Thalmor are to the local Bosmer, so he wants to kill them.
VATROU - Scarlett
Gender: Female
Race: Altmer
Age: 35
Height: 6'4"
Faction: New Pact
Rank: None at the moment
Deity: Malacath
Appearance: Her red hair is coated in dirt and blood, completely unkempt; much like the rest of her body. Her dark golden face is covered in dirt, making her golden eyes stand out. Her body is muscular and well defined, able to lift rather large war hammers or battle axes with ease. A picture for her war paint, and what she would generally look like, albeit she's cleaner looking in the pic than what I would like.
Equipment: a steel battleaxe fashioned in the style of the Dragonbone battleaxe. It would have a spiked tip at the end. And a minimal light armor, consisting of a leather cuirass covering her torso, leaving her arms bare. Her legs would have a leather skirt, with iron covering the sides, and the front of her legs. With leather gauntlets with pieces of iron covering her hands and forearm. She has litle else beside a small pouch and a water skin.
Personality: Barbaric, Violent, and Unruly. She'll follow simple orders, but has tendency to lose her self in battle. Her manners are poor, she eats like a pig. Gobbling down food, and speaking at the same time. She can be very faithful to those who earn her trust, and would defend them to the death. But don't expect her to use any social skills.
Background: Born to a wealthy enough family, Varline grew up like any young Altmer girl, she found her way into trouble, learned about the world from her parents, and had a happy childhood. Her Father was a healer, and her Mother an alchemist. They treated many patients in their small town. As the years past, and Varline matured, she was considered beautiful by many of the young Altmer boys. They'd shower her with gifts and affection, which she relished at every moment, doing more than her share of flirting. This lasted for a few years, until she was seventeen.
On one fine day a man was rapping at the door, knocking several times. It was a Nord traveler, he clutched his side, hands covered in blood, his wounds were consistent with those of wolves. This Nord was taken in for treatment and well cared for, Varline's parents were kind people never turning away the sick or injured. Three days passed, while the Nord grew in strength, when more people came knocking on the door,it was Thalmor they had been investigating the presence of a Nord who they suspected of Talos worship. While the Nord did worship Talos, the Thalmor had no proof, the Nord carried nothing that would suggest this claim. One of the Thalmor officers wanted to rise up in the ranks, he was corrupted and only desired power, placed an amulet of Talos in the Nords pack. His commanding officer was on the way and expected results. When the corrupt officer accused the Nord, and emptied the pack containing the place amulet, the Nord refused any sort of guilt, and Varline's family knew that he was being falsely accused. When Varline's Father confronted the officer, a scuffle broke out, the officer used this to justify his actions as he drew his sword; the Nord jumped in to try to save the family, but was impaled by another Thalmor. Soon enough the fight ended Varline's Father and Mother lay dead as she cowered in a corner. This was when their commanding officer entered the residence, he demanded an explanation. The officers gave one, not speaking the whole truth of course. After listening, the Thalmor commanding officer wasn't completely satisfied, he held doubt it all happened that way, but since none of them spoke otherwise, all he had to go by were the words of a young girl.
The Thalmor left, and the corrupted officer received a slap on the wrist, but Varline's life was shattered, her family lay dead betrayed by those she had been brought up to believe were loyal Dominion soldiers. For a time she lived in her home, what remained of it; as rumors circulated around town, some of which claimed her family were Talos sympathizers, or that they even worshiped Talos directly, what ever the rumor, Varline was shunned from the community, the young mer who fawned over her were gone and she had nothing left to bind her to this town. She sold her belongings and bought herself some armor and a sword, as she traveled across the Summerset isles, and soon traveled to the mainland afterwards.
It was here that yet another twist of fate changed her life, a group of bandits stalked the roads, camping out in an old shrine dedicated to Malacath, the Orcs who once lived and worshiped here were long dead, giving the bandits the perfect home. As Varline walked down the road, she was ambushed by them, beaten and unconscious, they stripped her of her belongings, and had their way with her. For days she prayed to the Nine divines hoping salvation would come, as she waited looked in a room where only a statue of Malacath kept her company. She waited but no help came, day in day out the bandits enjoyed her company. With nothing left and abandoned by the divines, she decided that perhaps salvation was closer than she thought, for twelve days she prayed to Malacath, although she had nothing to offer him she still persisted. As she awoke of the thirteenth day, a commotion was heard outside a group of passing Orcs, came to pray at this old shrine, as they found it infested with bandits and proceeded to kill them, they entered the chamber which Varline was imprisoned, as they still held their blades the naked Varline heard a booming voice, as the Orcs dropped down to worship it. Malacath spoke them, to Varline. 'You have done well young Altmer, your prayers have been answered, continue to worship me.' As the Orcs keeled, some of them were surprised that a young and feeble Altmer would gain the patronage of Malacath, but he had already declared it so. Overjoyed that she was finally free, tears ran down her face as she continued her worship of Malacath. As the Orcs stood up one of them covered Varline in a cloak, as another went to find some clothes, the Orc next to her spoke." Well drop you off at the next town." To which Varline responded."No I'm coming with you it would be disrespectful to Malacath otherwise, I need to be stronger, will you help me?" The Orcs did nothing but smile, as they brought her some leather armor. Varline lived among the Orcs for a time eventually earning her place among them, she took a new name Scarlett, and favored Battle axes. Years passed, and Scarlett felt the need to travel once more to seek revenge against the Thalmor, before she left the Orcs crafted her a steel battle axe, unique just for her as a parting gift.
Scarlett spent the next year hunting down Thalmor, until she reached Valenwood, she heard of a rebellion, and decided to seek them out and aid them in their goal of driving the Dominion out of Valenwood. And to kill every Thalmor she could.
Motives: Revenge, and her desire to Kill any Thalmor.
GhostlySentinel - Dro'kir
Gender: Male
Race: Cathay'raht
Age: Twenty
Height: 8'2
Faction: New Pact
Rank: Freelance brawler
Appearance: 'Giant' is the best descriptor of this beast's build. Incredibly tall and muscled, the very sight of him has turned the tide of battle against lesser foes than the Thalmor. His fur is grey, but covered in red 'tattoos', swirling patterns dyed into it permanently. His ears are adorned with hoops most men and mer could use as bracelets, and his mane is short. Scars lace his back, marks of a cruel whip.
Equipment: Simple steel plates wrap around his chest, shoulders and legs. His arms are bare, some joke that this is because all the steel in Elsweyr was used in his chest plate. He carries a Cyrodil made steel greatsword in his left hand, and a massive oak shield in his right.
Personality: He's friendlier than most, though due to his size this can be off-putting to strangers. He takes any chance to show mercy or kindness, but never hesitates todo what must be done on the battlefield. He is also very trustful.
Background: He was born in Cyrodiil to a poor farmer, and was raised there until his sixth year. By this time he was already the size of a human child twice his age, and his father could no longer afford to feed him. So, one day when a Dunmer slaver was in town, Dro'kir's father have him to the Dunmer, deeming it better to live a slave than starve to death. The farmer was soon after killed by bandits, so he did succeed in saving his son's life.
Dro'kir did not exactly appreciate it though, as he was soon put in a mine, where he was resented by the other slaves for getting more food. But, a Cathay-raht was too valuable to starve, and all those muscles would be useless without feeding.
His strength, of course, would be their undoing ten years later, because every night when he was shackled to the wall, he would pull on the restraints with all his might before he slept. After ten long years, the chains were weak enough to break, and when they did he took vengeance on his captors, destroying them in his holy wrath, dragging his claws down their backs, just like the whips they had brought down on his back.
When he was done, he took the key and freed the other slaves, then began wandering, finding himself in Elseweyr, Cyrrodil, Skyrim, and, four years later, Valenwood, where he began searching for an insurgent group to fight the Thalmor with.
Motives: He knows what it's like to be stomped on in the name of tyranny, and doesn't want anyone else to have to.
Weakness: He has no defense to magic, and has a nasty habit of charging into groups of enemies, exposing his back. Also, due to his friendliness, he would be more likely to trust a traitor or spy.
