» Tue May 06, 2014 10:48 am The New Pact RP
An RP created by ThePompousAltmer, Henvoraak and Disturbing
GM'ed by TheLexicon, WD40, ThoseTolerableNoobs and Firelight
-----------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 guerrillas 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 received 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 forests 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 burglars, 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 oppressors.
But, needless to say, the mightiest 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 rhythmic 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 formidable 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 fierce skirmish, New Pact blades cut down the second most senior commander of the Thalmor task force - Captain Armion - notable 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 against 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 TheLexicon, WD40, Firelight 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 permanently 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 yourself 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: The forests of Silvenar province.
Description: *Needs revision as Bal Fall was destroyed* The 'Hideout' is, in its present state, comprises of a few lofted wood-huts (imported wood, of course) tied loosely together by a series of knotted ropes and crude ladders, designed to crucially improve defense 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 carefully hidden chimneys amongst the trees. Little light penetrates into the complex's core - little more than a large tree-house 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 pass-phrase, upon which a rope is lowered from the trees and the Pact member pulled up to safety.
Silvenar City Headquarters - Thalmor: Leader: Iachesis Jorus (Altmer) Second-in-Command: Synrus (Altmer) Location: In the center of Silvenar City, near administrative 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 Justiciars when they have their guard down. The justiciar headquarters are a purpose built affair - a splash of Altmeri architechture splintered oddly amongst 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: 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: Players 6. Characters 9. Lexicon - Synrus Lexicon - Vaeleas Lexicon - Aejezra Lexicon - Mi'Arda ThoseTolerableNoobs - Iachesis Jorus GhostlySentinel - Hunter 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. Dovakhin - Domino Tenebrae Name: Domino Tenebrae Appearance: Well muscled, less angular than the average Altmer, broad shoulders, shaved head. Disdains official robes except when required, instead preferring well made elven armor. Grey eyes, severe expression, Slight stubble from shaving. Gesticulates when he talks. Equipment: Well made elven sword, a few treatises and maps. Set of leather armor, plain but well-made clothes. Justiciar robes. Personality: Ruthless and methodical, Domino speaks bluntly, a rarity in Thalmor politics. Often seen as hostile, he is a loyal friend, but is slow to socialize. Background: Born to warrior nobility, Domino was a sickly child with a greater penchant for reading than fighting. A keen mind, he digested numerous treatises on warfare, and remains of the belief that warfare can be distilled into a set of axioms. As he grew, he pushed his body to the limits, become physically robust. Serving as an officer in the Great War, he was well noted for his maneuverability and cunning. He is a capable battlemage, though his true value comes from his strategic and tactical perspectives. Has served as an advisor to the upper echelons of government since then. Motives: Believes in the superiority of the Thalmor, if not to the greatest degree, then at least enough to feel they are the best thing for Tamriel. Also strongly believes in discipline and order. The New Pact: Players 9. Characters 11. Gender: Male Race: Dunmer Age: 43 Height: 5'11 Faction: The New Pact Rank: Volunteer/Skirmisher Appearance: Very fit, slightly bulkier than most Dunmer due to the heavy load he carries into battle. 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 a shortened spear, of well-crafted chitin tip and buttspike and ashwood haft, that measures about five feet. He also carries a short ebony sword, sheathed at the waist, and a bonemold shield, usually slung across his back. Personality: Seldryn is usually socially cautious and respectful around his Bosmer and Imperial comrades, not yet fully aware of their customs, but is not reserved or introspective. He is amiable and lets the occasional dry wit slip into conversation with those he is familiar with. When "on the job", he is stoic and strives to be emotionally detached when making decisions, true to his native culture. This would come off as cold or aloof were it present in anything but professional interaction, but Seldryn is careful not to accidentally alienate himself from his fellows. 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 leaves his homeland often to serve the interests of his Great House, Redoran, and the Dunmer people abroad. His participation in the Skyrim Civil War as a Stormcloak volunteer made him a certified freedom fighter in his mind, and he eagerly put himself forward as a volunteer to advise a Bosmer resistance against the Thalmor. Motives: Ever seeking a challenge, Seldryn was drawn to the New Pact by the challenge of powerful foes and forwarding the goal of Redoran to weaken the Thalmor, despite them being fellow mer. 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 difficult trials, comradery with his Bosmer cousins, and holding to the Redoran code. Gender: Female Race: Bosmer Age: 38 Height: 5’9” Faction: The New Pact Rank: 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 may almost seem 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, a scattering of assorted feathers tied into it. Equipment: A steel khukuri, medic’s kit (contains gauze, needles, thread, truncates, etc.), a couple poultices, several strange tonics, a waterskin, animal fat, flint, a mixture of red ocher in a sturdy jar, and a patchwork satchel. (Apparel) A tattered, short sleeved green robe (ends in ribbons just below the knee), long and loose vest worn open, brown leggings (ends at shins), a belt with several carved charms hanging off, huntsman’s moccasins with a small fringe of feathers sewn around the ankles, and a small bone carving of Y’ffre on a hide cord (worn as an amulet). 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, and is always ready for a good laugh. Athrahil also adores nature and is something of a follower of Y’ffre; though she may not always adhere strictly to his teachings, they do usually influence her ideas and actions to some degree. 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 and shown how use magics that resonated with it. As a result, she has quite the knowledge of local flora and fauna. At the age of 24 she decided to become a sort of 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 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 to 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... 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. Starvdarmy - Aendeir Gender: Male Race: Half Bosmer/Half Atlmer (Bosmer mother, Altmer Father) Age: 135 Height: 6 foot 3 inches. Faction: New Pact Rank: Assassin/Scout Appearance: While no-one alive has seen his face for around a century, he is rumoured to look like this: A face so heavily scarred and burnt it is impossible to tell what he would of looked like. Unnaturally bright green eyes. A body that is scarred and burnt more than his face. His arms have muscles that one only gets after decades of strenuous exercise, and a six pack that body builders dream of. Equipment: Armour: Nightingale armour (Skyrim version). Weapons: Scimitar, 8 Steel throwing knives, Daedric Dagger. Personality: Silent, Depressed. It is hard to give him a personality, as he only talks around people he would consider "Blood-Brothers". Background: Aendeir was born to a Bosmer mother and a Altmer father in Elsweyr. His father was killed when Aendeir was 5 for casting fury on the town guard and was hanged. His mother took her own life when he was 11. Aendeir hitched a ride to Cyrodil, and lived as an orphan at the imperial cities docks. During his time living on the docks he survived by pickpocketing & begging. A few weeks before his 15th birthday he met a Man in mysterious robes who said they could use someone like him in Skyrim, and that there was a boat that would take him to Skyrim in a few weeks time. On his 15th birthday he snuck onto the boat that was headed to Skyrim and upon arriving there he was given a note by a courier. It read: Aendeir, We know of your skill at sneaking, and would like to put that to use. We would like for you to help us out with a certain...problem. If you complete this task you will have earned you place -if you want it- with us at the sanctuary. We wish for you to kill Anglos, a Nord fisherman. We will know when the task has been completed, and we will collect you. He was hesitant at first about doing the "Task", but curiosity won out and he did it. Aendeir found himself in the Dark Brotherhood and worked with them for 3 decades. Towards the end of his time there he started having doubts if this was what he really wanted to do with his life. On his last contract he was supposed to kill someone who was parading around town in Nightingale Armour. Aendeir killed the person and took the armour for himself. Aendeir stayed in Skyrim for 3 more years, doing odd jobs in whiterun hold. He earned a fair bit of gold but spent it all on learning the way of speechcraft. Aendeir left Skyrim and crossed the border into Cyrodil. He used the gold he had earned from the Dark Brotherhood to build himself a house in the wilderness. He stayed in that house for 30 years, living off the land and constantly training his skills on bandits. At the age of 78 he made one of his rare visits to the Imperial City and met Aelwiym. His visits to the imperial city became more frequent and eventually they married. After 22 years of happy marriage his house was burned down by a group of bandits, his wife died in the fire and he very nearly died himself. He became emotionally numb after he lost his wife. He started travelling Tamriel, because the way he saw it, why not? He never stayed more than 4 years in each province. While travelling he learned many new fighting techniques, and gathered lots of knowledge about the other races and their respective cultures. After 3 and a half decades of travelling he ended up back where he had started; Cyrodil. He decided to visit his homeland, Valenwood, because for some reason he had never got around to going there before. Motives: While he doesn't have much, if any, reason to hate the Thalmor, he feels he needs to protect Valenwood from invaders. 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. lego28475 - Sabrina Forlentis Name: Sabrina Forlentis Gender: Female Race: Breton Age: 19 Height: 5`6" Faction: The Empire Rank: bard/spy Appearance: Slender, petite, Blue eye`s, Brown hair which goes down just above her shoulders. Equipment: fine clothes fitting of traveling bard, a red cloak with a hood, Soft leather boot`s, and a silver clarinet, a short sword approximately 14" long and quite thin blade, is hidden inside her robes. Personality: Childish when not on duty, but takes her duty seriously, uses diplomatic skills to full fill her duty, or if that fails quick draw short sword to their throat. Skills: She quite good listener, she can sneak up on people, and very good with her clarinet, and deadly with her short sword. (as long as she is only facing one person) Background: Sabrina was hand maiden of one lady`s of high rock, her duty`s where entertaining with her clarinet, emptying her chamber pots, making her beds and laying out her clothes for the day. She always managed to stay in the background, of the events in court. She was destined at this time, if she was lucky to marry a page, who may become a knight at some point. Their was only one problem, her job bored her to tears, and the page she was to marry was not very bright. So at the tender age 15 she decide to run away, before she got stuck in their. She made her way from high rock, across to skyrim paying her way with music from clarinet. During this time she learned of bards college in solitude, and made her way their to joined them. She soon realized people talk to much when having fun, and gossiped none stop, but they never suspected she could listen as well as play. A little before her eighteen birthday, she was playing in a tavern near the boarder of cryodiil. Here she learned of a plot to ambush, and kill the emperor. This was in revenge attack, she could only work out that they use to be storm cloaks. She decide to alert, the local militia captain. His name was sernwarth, it was decide to let the ambush take place. So that they could capture or kill, these remaining stormcloak rebels. After wards she was interviewed, by some the empire spy`s to see what she new, and how she found out about it. They decide to recruit her, into the empire`s service and after training. She was sent to valenwood, as a spy Motives: her sense of adventure, and to do what was asked of her by the empire to spy on the thalmor, and pass what information she can to the new pact. Rubeus Hagrid - Boris Name: Boris Gender: Male Race: Bosmer Age: 99 Height: 5'4 Faction: Wishes to join the New Pact Rank: None yet Appearance: Boris has silk white hair that is very well-kept, and gleams brightly in the sun; with golden skin and neat facial hair. After the events of the Dragonskull Heist, Boris changed the colour of his warpaint from green to red, in honour of his fallen guildmates. To the astute eye; he is a very handsome elf, with a fine taste in clothes and weaponry. Equipment: Boris is proficient in the use of Elven gear. Thus, he uses an Elven bow almost exclusively, along with Elven arrows. Boris has two sets of armour that he uses commonly. The first is his relatively new Thieves Guild armour; used casually when he is not looking to engage in combat, and when he wishes to keep his Daedra worship a secret, as is common. The second armour set used by Boris is his Nightingale Armour. As a faithful of Nocturnal, he uses this concealing dark armour to join his dead brothers and sisters, and become one with the shadows. When outside of combat, he wears noble, elegant clothes. Tailored personally for him. Personality: Proud, snobbish, astute, and sometimes quite remorseful. Boris does not question his own ability. Growing up in Woodhearth in the company of excellent thieves, he was brought up with many of the skills he redeems to this day, in addition to his natural marksmanship. Perhaps, just a little bit of sorrow lingers in his psyche; he regrets some of the things he has done, but this side of Boris is well-hidden. His most obvious personality trait is his professional and sophisticated mindset, wishing for everything to be in order. Background: His most recent exploits, and indubitably his most well-known ones are detailed in the obscure book "The Dragonskull Heist". It is important to note however that this period also does not do a very good job of displaying his skills as a thief. His days growing up in Woodhearth are full with many tales of his guilds exploits. The Forefather's were a group of Bosmer thiefs who were at one point, in direct competition with the Thieves's Guild of Valenwood, for the Forefather's would accept almost any job, providing that the gold was sufficient. Indeed, when the Thieves Guild refused an offer of gold, the client would go straight to the Forefather's. Boris ran with the Forefather's for almost all of his life, finding solace when it came to avoiding the law, and most importantly, having a friendly group of Bosmer's with the same interests; gold. To understand the history of Boris, you must first understand the history of the Forefather's. The Forefather's were formed in 4E 139, in response to a supposed run of 'bad luck' that the Thieves Guild were experiencing. The eldest of what came to be the Forefather's; Fangon, and Arthek, knew this to be more than the appeared stretch of bad luck, but instead an absence of luck altogether. Thus the Forefather's were born, and together with it's birth, Boris's new career. Over the years this small group of Bosmer began to make friends in high places. Including the likes of noblemen, and even Thalmor agents. These influentual contacts were important in allowing the Forefather's to take on grand heists, that would later become legend; legends that would be sung occasionally in taverns, and written about in obscure books. Indeed, for it was simply assumed by many that the Thieves Guild were behind these heists, oblivious to the fact that their sons and daughters were instead conducting these heists. (Please read the Dragonskull Heist before continuing) After the events of the Dragonskull Heist, and thus, Helgen, Boris now needed to decipher where exactly he would be taking up residence. For he could not go back to Valenwood for obvious reasons, nor could he journey to Morrowind anytime soon. After thinking it through in his head, Boris decided that he would flee to Hammerfell. But not before warning a king of Skyrim about the dragon attack. He was told by a fellow prisoner to head to Riverwood for supplies, and so he did, only to find a fellow Bosmer who he would later travel to Markarth with; For Markarth appeared to be right by Hammerfell on his friends map. And so he warned the king of Markarth. It turned out he already knew about the attack, a wasted journey it seems. He would rent a room at the inn for tonight, and head to Hammerfell in the morning. Saying goodbye to his friend, he came across a rather distressed priest. What the priest was describing was most unusual; it would appear that Markarth had a fellow cannibal on the lose. Boris thought nothing of it, for it was part of his religion and his very being to consume a corpse after battle; but this was different. Upon breaking into the Hall of the Dead he met with a woman there who would later introduce him to Namira, leading Boris to come into the posession of a powerful artifact: The Ring of Namira. Truly disgusting, but powerful, and most importantly it did not require Boris to change anything about himself. It was the worship of Namira that kept him in Markarth for the next week or so, for he had found a new god to add to his pantheon. It was only when confronted by a Thalmor assassin that he was forced to leave, but not for Hammerfell.. Boris had been doing alot of reading during his time in Skyrim, and found Riften to be Skyrim's Thieves Guild hub. He had to investigate for many reasons, to see if this sect of the guild was suffering from the same fate as the one back in Valenwood. He decided to infiltrate the Thieves Guild and succeeded, and luckily his suspicions were correct, the Thieves Guild's luck had well and truly run dry. It was this revelation that kept Boris in Skyrim for the next few years, ever curious to see if Nocturnal would recognise his restoration of the guild. Some time past, and Boris later came to see that many of the Thieves Guild's members were also Nightingales. And thus, Boris became one of Nocturnal's faithful, a Nightingale. Unlike Namira, this was a Daedric Prince that he would happily serve for the rest of his life. For the very soul of the Forefather's was the realisation of the lack of luck in other guilds. Boris would eventually go on to become a high-ranking member in the Thieves Guild, re-living the death of his fellow Forefather's everyday, knowing that they would understand his transition. The year was now 4E 207, and Boris became aware of a glorious uprising in his native Valenwood against the Thalmor oppressors, the very group that he had been avoiding for years. Packing the most important of his belongings, he left Riften on a cold night for his home, to see if he could join the uprising, and purge Valenwood of the Thalmor government. Motives: The worship of Y'ffre, Nocturnal, and Namira. And now, to help purge Valenwood of the Thalmor. Neutral: Players 3. Characters 4. Crunchyadventure - Balis Favani Name: Balis Favani Gender: Male Race: Dunmer Age:29 Height:5'5 Faction: Dual Citizen! ( Playing both sides ) Rank:Agent Appearance: 5’6, average build, Ashen grey with minimalistic hints of blue. Eye colour: Deep Crimson. Hair: shoulder length of the darkest ebony in a loose wave and a cascade of bangs (Beautiful). Equipment Black gold-trimmed boots, black gold-trimmed gloves, puffy white shirt (soft!), black embellished over coat (sleek), exquisite oxblood pants, volcanic glass ring with no special properties, diamond knobbed walking stick (dapper), small satchel carrying a hair brush enchanted with restorative properties, various potions (magicka types and stamina potions. Some damn fine Flin as well) and soul gems... all alongside his personal weapon. Intelligence. Personality: Balis feels a strong sense of entitlement towards his environments and often his peers. Ever striving for a way of living that befits a Favani, Balis is not above using under handed tactics to achieve this goal; everything is a means in which to achieve his end, and he revels in the manipulation of others. Balis often comes across as a (savvy) bastard. History: Born and raised in Cyrodiil to a well off merchant dynasty. Studied at the College of Whsipers, where he first started dabbling in black market dealings. Acquiring much needed merchandise began taking more precedent over his studies, where he slowly became more involved with trades of illicit goods and information. Motive: Profit before all else. information and products are worth double as much in a worn torn country where coin purses are fat and ears are thirsty; hence Balis being in Valenwood to take advantage of this lucrative situation. Firelight - Nidara Favani Name: Nidara Favani Gender: Female Race: Dunmer Age: 28 Height: 5’9” Faction: Both, or perhaps more accurately, none. Rank: Agent Appearance: She’s of slender, toned build wrapped in dark ashen skin. Her facial features are stern as they are fair, the most notable being her piercing eyes the colour of freshly drawn blood. She wears her rich chocolate hair in a loose braid, keeping a few stray locks to frame her face. Favours using darker eyeliner with hints of bronze eye shadow, and lipstick of such a deep red it’s nearly black. There’s usually a wicked little smirk on her face. Equipment: Two satchels worn on belts that criss-cross her hips, various potions, poisons and ingredients, lock picks, braided sling, Elven bow with assorted arrows, a paintbrush, homemade ink, and a simple dagger made of blackened steel. (Armour/Clothing): A hooded purple tunic that falls about mid-thigh, a short and fitted leather vest that laces in the front, scaled greaves the colour of tarnished brass, fingerless netch hide gauntlets, tall padded leather boots, and a belt that’s specially made to hold/give easy access to potion bottles. She also wears a dark bandana around her neck that she will sometimes pull up over the lower half of her face. Personality: Due to the losses of those dear to her, Nidara has become cynical, harsh and selfish when it comes to dealing with people in general. She doesn’t like to rely on others or have others to relying on her, demanding her friends be able to take care of themselves and stay out of her affairs. That said, the few she does have she’s fiercely loyal to, doing anything in her power to help or protect them despite what she says. Nidara rarely, if ever, shows her softer side as she tries to suppress any feelings that she deems show weakness, which in turn causes her stress and often makes her an all-around [censored]. Background: Nidara and her brother, Balis, were raised by their father who was a rather successful merchant. During her ninth summer, their father was killed during a trading expedition, leaving his fortune and business to both his children. The loss hit Nidara hard; months after she received the news she could barely eat or sleep she was so beside herself. Her insomnia eventually lead to her to sneak out at night to try to clear her mind, which is how she met and was befriended by a few shady people. One thing lead to another and Nidara started her career in crime and illegal trade, becoming quite adept over the years at acquiring objects and getting in and out of hard to access places. Sadly, she was parted from many of her friends over this time as well, which in turn has profoundly affected her state of mind. With really no one left, Nidara leapt that the chance to work with her brother once when she found out what he was up to. Motives: She’s come to Valenwood with Balis to take advantage of trade opportunities, and of course, to make sure her dear brother continues to breathe. Hade - Aelius Hadeus “Hade” Vantinius Name: Aelius Hadeus “Hade” Vantinius Gender: Male Race: Imperial (Colovian) Age: 79 Height: 6’2” (really 5’11” due to hunching) Faction: Unaffiliated/ Neutral Rank: None/ Retired Legionnaire Appearance: Haggard and disheveled best describes the look of this weary wanderer. Long locks of wavy, silver hair fall past his shoulders with a bushy, pale white beard occupying his jaw line. Wrinkles and other blemishes finely carve his light-colored flesh and subtly blanket the face of what might have been a fairly attractive man in his youth. Only his steel blue eyes maintain a sparkle of juvenescence while paradoxically evoking the apogee of life experience. Equipment: Hade’s attire is quite plain, consisting of a faded brown tunic and gray hooded robes to protect against the elements. A satchel slung over his shoulder contains his travel necessities, including parchment and ink for letter writing and a journal for ruminations over a day’s events. His Staff of Magelight serves the double purpose of assisting his frail legs in walking and helping him to see at night. He has an old ebony dagger strapped to the inside of his boot for protection and wears his father’s Amulet of Julianos for sentimental purposes. Personality: Though quick-tempered due to his advanced age, Hade maintains an unperturbed aura about him. He considers himself a bit of recluse, which is reaffirmed by his tendency to keep few friends, but he also tries to maintain a tactful disposition with strangers. Spiritually, Hade is a marked unbeliever in the conventional Aedra pantheons and readily ridicules anyone who associates their divine influence with important matters (“I really wish that I could suggest that damned cult of Tiber Septim as the culprit for the war,” he once wrote in a letter to an old friend. “But I surmise that mer will be prepared to utilize any justification to assert their authority over all as men have often been so predisposed to do.”) Whatever hindrances old age have brought him, he has compensated by being both astute and erudite. Background: Born in 4E 127 near the city of Chorrol several years after the collapse of the Elsweyr Confederacy, Hade spent much of his youth exploring the rustic and rather underdeveloped landscape of the Colovian frontier. The eastern and southern reaches of both Hammerfell and Skyrim, respectively, were not unknown to him either due to close familial ties in those regions. His mother Astia was a fiery-tempered woman of mixed Nordic heritage who tended to their small farm with her two sons. Iraius, his father, continued a long-standing family tradition by serving as a legionnaire under the Eighth Legion of the Empire. Appropriately, it was Iraius who played a key role in influencing young Hade to sign up for the Legion. Hade’s four decade career with the Tenth Legion made him witness to the best and worst sights in Tamriel. The breadth of his experiences culminated with the savage fighting and advent of wavering polities brought about by the Great War in the early 170s of the Fourth Era. Following his retirement at the rank of tribune over ten years later, Hade went on to be an official historian and archivist for the Mede Empire where he assisted his former commander Legate Justianus Quintius by editing A Concise Account of the Great War Between the Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion. His works also include a recent publication called The Bloodied Dunes that recount the events and periphery occurrences encompassing the clash of forces under General Decianus and Lady Arannelya outside of the city of Skaven, Hammerfell, and The Voices of the Red Year, a volume that includes revised volumes of Melis Ravel’s interviews as well as commentary on new journal remnants, letters and other manuscripts discovered in Morrowind and Solstheim. In his days of elderly rest, Hade spends his time collecting and trading in rare books. Motives: Although he is aware of the political tensions brewing in Valenwood, Hade seeks to find the book entitled De Rerum Dirennis by the Altmer Vorian Direnni. He has tracked down the exceedingly difficult to procure text to the Bosmer city of Silvenar. Because of his immanent dislike and wariness for the Thalmor, Hade hopes for nothing short of a brief stay in Dominion territory. CrunchyAdventure - Osweyh Name: Osweyh Gender: Male Race: Bosmer Age:30 Height:5’5 Faction:Neutral Rank: Thug Appearance: Dark mop of hair falling to shoulder length.A spatter of stubble skirts his jawline. Intense amber eyes that one would say almost light up the room. Two gold hoop earrings hang from the top of his left ear. Plump in the midriff, muscular appendages. Doesn’t possess any scars, although he should. Equipment:Iron plate mail cuirass for protection of his heart.Being a cheap bastard, Osweyh does not possess any more armour and wears a simple green linen outfit and black oiled leather boots to keep his footsteps light. A two handed mithril maul is his preferred weapon of choice. Always has a full flask of his very own home brewed rotmeth on him, made from a barrel left in a non descript alley. Personality:A low level crook. Never anything more. Wants to maintain status quo of his lifestyle.. he enjoys a certain level of grime.Outwardly optimistic, go getter attitude. Positive in a callous way which is very insulting to others.Doesn’t believe in possessions.A penchant for getting blasted off of rotmeth and mouthing off to larger more muscle bound peoples and it was for this reason he is so well versed in restorative magick. Background: What is there to tell? A Bosmer born and raised in Silvenar’s seedy under belly. He’s always been where he is now and he will always be there. He strives to keep this lifestyle as it is easy and enjoyable for him. Motives: “I try to you know… not die.”
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 thehttp://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:
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Gender: Male
Race: Altmer
Age: 210
Height: 7'3"
Faction: Thalmor
Rank: Justiciar? Military advisor?
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
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.
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.
