[Klaire]

well as for the time period i'm set on after the death of dovahkiin (for the sake of being exact lets say 20 years after the death) and i'm not waiting on a vote i'm getting excited and impatient lol, the province will be cryodiil.

as for everyone i'm thinking up ideas for the RP as i write this, i'm thinking of plots, sub-plots, characters and anything else i can possibly think of
an interest thread with accepted characters should be up in a day or two, considering my computer isn't wiped out by a hurricane lol

[Arrogant SId]

Here it is, I edited it on the original post and pasted it on a new post so it's not overlooked.

Name: Sam Servius (or "Sawyer)

Age: 22

Appearance: Sam stands at about 5'11 and has lanky, non muscled limbs. The Breton's waist is extremely skinny, matching the rest of his body.
Sam is obviously not made for combat and is not ashamed of it, saying that steel is an inferior
tool to the mind. On top of his head Sam sports a mane of dark gold, messy hair. His eyes radiate green and are set far apart, giving him a ponderous look. His jaw is well defined and
square, uncoated by facial hair. Sam's ears stick out a little to far and hold back his hair. Overall
the Breton can be described as attractive by human and elven races, using this to his advantage.

Race: 90 percent Breton, 10 percent High Elf.

Birth sign: The Mage

Class: (Custom) Mindspeaker

Abilities/Skills: Illusion (Master, the rest aren't
used much), Unarmed, Speech, Agility, unarmored, Violin (just for the fun of it).

Armor/clothing: Asortment of civilian clothes,
always paired with a light brown leather long coat, complete with a cowl.

Weapons: small bone handle dirk, scissor at times. (Ancient bladed gauntlet.)

Misc: multiple healing salves, poisoned needles (from a sea urchin, coated with various poisons),
hair dye, various different extra clothes for disguises, brass bracket on left wrist.

Special: Intense understanding of the mind, more than gameplay allows (just a warning). The rest is to be decided.

Bio: Sam was born into a rich Breton family in Skingrad. The family made fine "Servius' Secret" wine, a moderately popular wine throughout Tamriel. The young Breton grew up in a nice household with a loving mother, father, and three
sisters. From an early age Sam received extensive schooling in all subjects, however the boy cared nothing about his studies, usually getting into all sorts of trouble. Early on Sam's father discovered his sons aptitude in the school
of Illusion. Excited that his son could be something (because he was uninterested in his studies) his father sent Sam off to the Imperial City to be privately mentored by an old High Elf.

So the boy set off on a carriage against his will
at the age of nine on a rickety old carriage. The Breton nothing with him but some clothes, a bank account in his name provided by his father, and his mothers bracelet. The boy immediately took a disliking to his new ancient high elf mentor. The man was cranky and cold, caring
only about increasing his own knowledge in Illusion and earning Mr. Servius' money. Sam's knowledge slowley increased with the aid of his mentor and by the age of 17 he had become par with most wizards three or four times his age.
This however was when Sam started to divulge from his past. Just like any other teenager with a large amount of money Sam spent it... All. Hurting on money the Illusionist searched for a way to make some profit before his mentor kicked him out of his home at the age of 18.

So the young man started doing the only real way to make money fast, stealing. So the Breton stole, and stole... And stole. He did this with increasing success, sometimes simply pressing
thoughts of urinating into guards minds so he could take the goods the guarded. But just like everyone else his luck eventually ran out. On one particular heist the Breton, now 19, went after his hardest mark ever, his master. Sam entered the building that was once his house, intent on stealing his masters amulet, an amulet that never left his neck. The Breton avenged the stairs to his masters sleeping quarters and entered, not worried about guards that he knew didn't exist. Sam slowley opened the door and crept inside, not making a noise, drifting towards his mentors bed. The old elf was there,
slumbering peacefully, gentely snoring. Sam's hands reached for the amulet, fingertips lifting the chains up off of his neck. The amulet was almost off of his head when the elf awoke, eyes shooting open.

The ancient master immediately assaulted Sam. However this assault was not of the blade, the hand, or even the flame, it was of the mind. The elf forced overwhelming thoughts of death and suffering into Sam's mind, petrifying him.
However Sam was trained by this very man in these very skills. Sam pushed back, apprentice against master, their minds battling, intertwining. But Sam was not strong enough, he did not have the hundreds of years of practice that the elf did and quickly knew he could not win.

So the Breton did something unexpected, he punched the elf, then again, and again, and again. He beat his face until it was nothing but a pile of mush, continuing without emotion, killing
the man that he had spent the last 10 years with. When the deed was done Sam ran, forgetting the amulet. He ran for three years, never staying in one place for two long, stealing, killing, and drinking to stay alive and sane. Sam took a completely new name, Sawyer, forgetting about his old life, never mentioning it again. To be continued in RP............

[I’m my own]

Here it is, I edited it on the original post and pasted it on a new post so it's not overlooked.

Name: Sam Servius (or "Sawyer)

Age: 22

Appearance: Sam stands at about 5'11 and has lanky, non muscled limbs. The Breton's waist is extremely skinny, matching the rest of his body.
Sam is obviously not made for combat and is not ashamed of it, saying that steel is an inferior tool to the mind. On top of his head Sam sports a mane of dark gold, messy hair. His eyes radiate green and are set far apart, giving him a ponderous look. His jaw is well defined and
square, uncoated by facial hair. Sam's ears stick out a little to far and hold back his hair. Overall the Breton can be described as attractive by human and elven races, using this to his advantage.

Race: 90 percent Breton, 10 percent High Elf.

Birth sign: The Mage

Class: (Custom) Mindspeaker

Abilities/Skills: Illusion (Master, the rest aren't used much), Unarmed, Speech, Agility, unarmored, Violin (just for the fun of it).

Armor/clothing: Asortment of civilian clothes,
always paired with a light brown leather long coat, complete with a cowl.

Weapons: small bone handle dirk, scissor at times. (Ancient bladed gauntlet.)

Misc: multiple healing salves, poisoned needles (from a sea urchin, coated with various poisons), hair dye, various different extra clothes for disguises, brass bracket on left wrist.

Special: Intense understanding of the mind, more than gameplay allows (just a warning). The rest is to be decided.

Bio: Sam was born into a rich Breton family in Skingrad. The family made fine "Servius' Secret" wine, a moderately popular wine throughout Tamriel. The young Breton grew up in a nice household with a loving mother, father, and three sisters. From an early age Sam received extensive schooling in all subjects, however the boy cared nothing about his studies, usually getting into all sorts of trouble. Early on Sam's father discovered his sons aptitude in the school of Illusion. Excited that his son could be something (because he was uninterested in his studies) his father sent Sam off to the Imperial City to be privately mentored by an old High Elf.

So the boy set off on a carriage against his will at the age of nine on a rickety old carriage. The Breton nothing with him but some clothes, a bank account in his name provided by his father, and his mothers bracelet. The boy immediately took a disliking to his new ancient high elf mentor. The man was cranky and cold, caring only about increasing his own knowledge in Illusion and earning Mr. Servius' money. Sam's knowledge slowley increased with the aid of his mentor and by the age of 17 he had become par with most wizards three or four times his age. This however was when Sam started to divulge from his past. Just like any other teenager with a large amount of money Sam spent it... All. Hurting on money the Illusionist searched for a way to make some profit before his mentor kicked him out of his home at the age of 18.

So the young man started doing the only real way to make money fast, stealing. So the Breton stole, and stole... And stole. He did this with increasing success, sometimes simply pressing thoughts of urinating into guards minds so he could take the goods the guarded. But just like everyone else his luck eventually ran out. On one particular heist the Breton, now 19, went after his hardest mark ever, his master. Sam entered the building that was once his house, intent on stealing his masters amulet, an amulet that never left his neck. The Breton avenged the stairs to his masters sleeping quarters and entered, not worried about guards that he knew didn't exist. Sam slowley opened the door and crept inside, not making a noise, drifting towards his mentors bed. The old elf was there, slumbering peacefully, gentely snoring. Sam's hands reached for the amulet, fingertips lifting the chains up off of his neck. The amulet was almost off of his head when the elf awoke, eyes shooting open.

The ancient master immediately assaulted Sam. However this assault was not of the blade, the hand, or even the flame, it was of the mind. The elf forced overwhelming thoughts of death and suffering into Sam's mind, petrifying him. However Sam was trained by this very man in these very skills. Sam pushed back, apprentice against master, their minds battling, intertwining. But Sam was not strong enough, he did not have the hundreds of years of practice that the elf did and quickly knew he could not win.

So the Breton did something unexpected, he punched the elf, then again, and again, and again. He beat his face until it was nothing but a pile of mush, continuing without emotion, killing the man that he had spent the last 10 years with. When the deed was done Sam ran, forgetting the amulet. He ran for three years, never staying in one place for two long, stealing, killing, and drinking to stay alive and sane. Then on one night he was contacted by the Dark Brotherhood, being inducted into the family. Sam took a completely new name, Sawyer, forgetting about his old life, never mentioning it again. To be continued in RP............

i would rather you removed the part where you were recruited as I intend to personally recruit every character, but otherwise the same rules apply from the last sheet you submitted

[Sammygirl500]

i would rather you removed the part where you were recruited as I intend to personally recruit every character, but otherwise the same rules
apply from the last sheet you submitted

Can do, I'll edit. Like I said, I won't be OP, Sam really isn't that effective without a partner. BTW will all the missions be one man or can we to pairs every once in a while?

[Laura Elizabeth]

im letting you decide when i give the contract...its difficult to explain now but you'll see in play =p

[jeremey wisor]

im letting you decide when i give the contract...its difficult to explain now but you'll see in play =p

Alright, and the CS is edited. Like I said, if you need any input or a CoGM (said GM the first time on accident, lol) just PM me.

[Emma Copeland]

well as for the time period i'm set on after the death of dovahkiin (for the sake of being exact lets say 20 years after the death) and i'm not waiting on a vote i'm getting excited and impatient lol, the province will be cryodiil.

as for everyone i'm thinking up ideas for the RP as i write this, i'm thinking of plots, sub-plots, characters and anything else i can possibly think of
an interest thread with accepted characters should be up in a day or two, considering my computer isn't wiped out by a hurricane lol

Ahh you're down south as well. I'm in central Florida. I'm hoping this whole thing blows over.

Anyways, just a side note that I thought I'd mention: When reading sheets try not to judge the character's power level by the sheet itself. I've had plenty of characters get turned down because they were a "master" as something, even though those characters weren't OP characters. Determining if someone's character is OP should be left until the RP is underway, unless in the strange situation where the CS is so out of balance that it makes you read it twice to make sure it actually said "Bob rides a dragon and swings a flaming axe that's ten feet tall."

As long as it's just classification of skills (as in the level they are) I wouldn't worry about it unless it becomes a problem in the RP. Just a tip to help mitigate some trouble.

I really like the route you chose with your character. I'm a huge fan of the illusion school. I have one character that pairs it with alteration to really mess with people. I'm interested to see what kind of mind bending things you can come up with.


EDIT: This talk of Dark Brotherhood stuff has got me thinking. Any room for a possible plot involving the Morag Tong? I have a few....interesting characters from before the Red Year that were in other places at the time. I haven't been able to use them for a while.

[Tessa Mullins]

Name: Volathine Ineron

Race: Altmer (High Elf) / Vampire

Age: 952

Appearance:( http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/292055_520868434597069_2065768419_n.jpg ) He has a smooth face, with two long black tattooed streaks going down his face from his eyes, which, when angered, may glow red. normally, however, his eyes are a bright green. His default expression is a look of condescending boredom. His long black hair is kept swept back, and somehow manages to stay nearly immaculate most of the time, though whether this is accomplished magically is anyone's guess. He is very tall, being a high elf and all, at around 6'8". His build is very thin, though if pressed he could muster up some strength. Still, he won't be beating many people in arm wrestling.

Birthsign: The Mage

Class: Stealth Mage (Not feeling creative enough to come up with a good one atm)

Abilities: Illusion (Master), Destruction (Expert: Only uses Lightning spells), Conjuration (Expert: able to summon a familiar, a flame atronach, or a bound sword: doesnt bother with anything else), One handed (with his bound sword, could not effectively use many other weapons), Sneak.

As both an Altmer and a vampire, Volathine is very susceptible to fire, and will often recoil from it out of self-preservation.

Misc. Items: wears a silver pendant inlaid with a blood red soul gem. No special properties. An enchanted flask, which keeps any liquid stored in it fresh for much longer. Currently filled with blood.

Armor: None. wears Black robes, and wears the hood during the rare times when he's forced to travel by day. He covers his hands with a pair of black gloves, inlaid with silver threads.

Personality: On the surface, and for a very long way down, Volathine is, well... a smug, arrogant, snarky, and rude person. In short, a typical altmer. Always ready with a demeaning comment or comeback, he enjoys getting under people's skin. He rarely lets emotions other than boredom, contempt, or amusemant slide through his demeanor. He rarely deems someone his friend, though if it happens, one will notice a slight change in his attitude towards them. slightly. He respects those who are clever, and mocks those who think physical strength is all that matters.

As for other races, he differs slightly in his views from most Altmer. He doesn't feel particularly malevolent towards any of the other races of Tamriel, having seen that each are capable of being just as stupid. Even his own race. On a side note, he absolutely despises the Thalmor, believing they are the embodiment of all the worst traits of his people. It doesn't help that many assume he is one due to his smug attitude.

Bio: Born in a small island in the Summerset Province to a wealthy family, Volathine enjoyed a privileged early life. though at a very young age, in an event he himself barely remembers, he stumbled onto a vampire and was attacked. He survived, in a way. Infected with the Vampire disease, he has wandered through the provinces over the years, staying in towns, crypts, and even the dens of other vampires when he could find them. Over the years, he learned much about magic, his natural talent proving itself. He learned to control his hunger, and trusted himself to stay in towns more, blending in with various societies. Until one day in Skyrim, where a reformed Dawnguard caught wind of his presence in a small Skyrim village. Three of them had him cornered, and he offered to just walk out of town and be on his way, but they refused. With a sigh, he raised his hands, lightning crackling around his fingers.

When all three were disposed of, the whole town watching, he announced his intentions to leave, and if anyone wanted to try to stop him, they were welcome to try. None volunteered. He is currently in an abandoned crypt, attempting to lay low for a bit.


Half asleep when I wrote this. Any problems, point them out and I'll edit them when I wake up.