» Tue Oct 11, 2011 2:03 am I am STAGGERING joining to prevent flooding and preserve pace. All current spaces are FILLED but more will be available next thread.
Rewriting History- Part 1
"Each event is preceded by Prophecy.
But without the hero,
there is no Event."
-Zurin Arctus | the Underking
Prophecy has failed. There was no Hero. But there is an Event.
3E427- Dagoth Ur creates Akulakhan from the heart of Lorkhan. The Nerevarine was freed by the Empire, but too late.
3E427- The Blight increases in strength, causing most of Vvardenfell to fall sick and die. Those who remain are met by Ur, Akulakhan, and his army of magically enhanced dreamers.
3E429- Vivec and Almalexia are publicly executed. The fate of Sotha Sil is unknown.
3E429- Morrowind is completely under the control of Ur, the empire is driven out, and its people have had their free will completely eradicated.
3E440- Dagoth Ur has begun to convert the other provinces. Black Marsh, Skyrim, High Rock, and Hammerfell are taken. Cyrodiil has become a fortress. Valenwood and Elsewyr have united in their defence, forming the Wilder Alliance. Nobody has heard from the Summerset Isle.
3E446- The Emperor and his heirs are assassinated, and the ill-fitted Martin Septim now reigns.
3E450- Communications cease and history goes unrecorded.
It is the year 3E457, in the province of Cyrodiil, in the outskirts of the Imperial City. The Empire is in ruins, and the Sixth House reigns throughout most of Tamriel. People die in the streets with the blight, and corprus is spreading. And every night more people are converted through their dreams into Sixth House Cultists.
People have been forced to stay indoors by what remains of the Imperial Legion- a quarantine, designed to keep the diseases- and the conversions- from spreading. As far as anyone knows, there is no way to be allowed out of the shelters save as part of the risky scavenging and farming forces, who have short life expectancies.
Everyday life is difficult. Nobody can tell who might be a dreamer or not, and the cities grow emptier by the day. Ur has sent out his people in search of the Elder Scrolls, in an attempt at total victory.
But there is one hope.
The Elder Scrolls, containing within them all that has been, can be, will be, and should have been. Hidden far away in an unknown place, the knowledge of which resides with the last priestess of the Ancestor Moth.
The Imperial Legion have set it about the Imperial City, quietly, that they are looking for a secret task force, a small group of civilians who will hopefully be able to move unnoticed amongst the Sixth House and gather information.
Only the desperate, the brave, and the foolhardy would dare to answer this call, and risk blight, corprus, assassination, brain-washing, or complete obliteration at the hands of Dagoth Ur and Akulakhan. And the desperate it will be.
Hear now the tale that will never be remembered, a tale that stretches across land, time and space. A tale of Aedra and Daedra, a tale of power and horror and love and heartbreak, and terrible decisions. This is the tale that will rewrite history.
The world will never be the same.
Starting:
You've been in the Imperial City shelter for a long time, an indoor quarrantine that has swallowed part of the city. It's nearly as large as the city itself was, as it expands outwards, but every day old passages are collapsed and rooms are locked as somehow, the corprus continues to get in. Everyone knows there are Dreamers about, agents of Dagoth Ur, but even they hardly realise who they are until the moment they fully awaken.
It functions like a city. There are taverns and services, and rooms enough, though most are shared in large numbers. But you remember what life used to be like, and this is either a joke or a tragedy by comparison.
You responded to the request seeking brave or suicidal civilians for a last desperate mission which will take you out of the shelter. Nobody has seen the outdoors in months, maybe even years.
So now, you're sitting in a chair in a barren room with peeling white paint with a small group of others, waiting for Captain Maximillian to speak. A blindfolded woman sits silently at his side.
Rules:
-I claim the first and second posts for myself, and only I, Illusionary Nothing, can post up the new threads.
-PM character sheets to me for approval.
-No ubering, character controlling, or anything of that ilk unless you have express permission from all parties involved.
-I'm staggering joining, so you may have to wait a while to join in. This is to make sure everyone has time to get to know each other, and to prevent floods of posts.
-Everybody is welcome here: beginners and pros. Just be willing to learn, and to have a good time.
-I am completely in control of this roleplay. I will avoid doing too much with people's characters, but there may well be moments when I need to move time along or unlock someone's character. I apologise in advance for any problems this might cause.
Prophecy is a huge part of the roleplay. If there are any prophecies you would like to see in this RP, PM me.
-Just have a good time.
-Also PM me a short description of your character to add to the heroes section.
Who will you be?
Characters:
Illusionary Nothing:
Spoiler
Name: Acacia
Race: Imperial
Birthsign: The Mage
Gender: Female
Age: 28
Class: Priestess of the Ancestor Moth
Skills: Acacia has an odd skill-set for a priestess. While she can certainly heal, and very powerfully at that, she also excels at the arts of persuasion and stealth. It would be difficult to find someone who moved more quietly than Acacia, and her talent for lock-picking is suspicious at best. And then, of course, there is the small, wickedly sharp dagger, no longer than a finger, which she keeps concealed within her clothing...
And, of course, she is prescient, as are all monks of the order of the ancestor moth.
(Restoration, Speechcraft, Sneak, Acrobatics, Security, Short-blade)
Appearance: A blindfold hides her eyes and obscures her features slightly, so it is hard to get an image of Acacia as a whole. She has a beak-like nose caused by a breakage, and a small, knowing smile on soft lips. On either side of her blindfold are the ends of a cruel scar which must cross her left eye. Her red hair is thick and wildly curly, worn tied back. Her build is tall and strong but lacking in feminine curve, and she comports herself with restrained grace, as if elegance is unbecoming.
She wears brown robes with many folds and the hood drawn up, a black blindfold and light, flexible boots. Beneath this are a shirt and trousers more suitable to travel.
Pack: A change of clothes, toiletries, some food, a few potions of restore magicka- nothing suspicious. She keeps anything unexpected hidden in the folds and hidden pockets of her robe.
Personality: A cynic inside and out, Acacia always seems to be laughing at you through that damn little smile of hers. She's very driven, however, and always seems to be in control of the situation; she responds badly if others try to take over.
However, she seems to avoid true confrontation with a sliding slitheriness best attributed to a snake, and she detests violence. Despite the hatred she inspires in most she meets, she heals without hesitation where it is required.
Background: To be revealed.
Name: Acacia
Race: Imperial
Birthsign: The Mage
Gender: Female
Age: 28
Class: Priestess of the Ancestor Moth
Skills: Acacia has an odd skill-set for a priestess. While she can certainly heal, and very powerfully at that, she also excels at the arts of persuasion and stealth. It would be difficult to find someone who moved more quietly than Acacia, and her talent for lock-picking is suspicious at best. And then, of course, there is the small, wickedly sharp dagger, no longer than a finger, which she keeps concealed within her clothing...
And, of course, she is prescient, as are all monks of the order of the ancestor moth.
(Restoration, Speechcraft, Sneak, Acrobatics, Security, Short-blade)
Appearance: A blindfold hides her eyes and obscures her features slightly, so it is hard to get an image of Acacia as a whole. She has a beak-like nose caused by a breakage, and a small, knowing smile on soft lips. On either side of her blindfold are the ends of a cruel scar which must cross her left eye. Her red hair is thick and wildly curly, worn tied back. Her build is tall and strong but lacking in feminine curve, and she comports herself with restrained grace, as if elegance is unbecoming.
She wears brown robes with many folds and the hood drawn up, a black blindfold and light, flexible boots. Beneath this are a shirt and trousers more suitable to travel.
Pack: A change of clothes, toiletries, some food, a few potions of restore magicka- nothing suspicious. She keeps anything unexpected hidden in the folds and hidden pockets of her robe.
Personality: A cynic inside and out, Acacia always seems to be laughing at you through that damn little smile of hers. She's very driven, however, and always seems to be in control of the situation; she responds badly if others try to take over.
However, she seems to avoid true confrontation with a sliding slitheriness best attributed to a snake, and she detests violence. Despite the hatred she inspires in most she meets, she heals without hesitation where it is required.
Background: To be revealed.
Vrek Vileclaw:
RESERVED
Sibera:
RESERVED
Aulakauss:
RESERVED
Webster52402:
RESERVED
Shadow666:
RESERVED
DarkNova50:
Spoiler
Name: Vyktoria Alasdair
Race: Imperial
Gender: Female
Age: 25
Birthsign: The Warrior
Class: Mage
Skills: Destruction, Alteration, Restoration, Two-handed (Staves)
Physical Appearance: The influence of Altmer blood is evident enough in Vyktoria’s physique; she is taller than average for her race, and her limbs are just barely longer, more elegant, in appearance. Her shape is slender and reasonably well-endowed, though she is neither muscular nor particularly well-toned, having relied upon her magical talents for most of her life. The features of her face are soft and delicate in appearance, save her eyes, which hold a smouldering ferocity at the best of times.
Height: 6’0”
Hair: Dark, blood red, worn straight and nearly to her hips in length. Long bangs frame either side of her face.
Eyes: Dark, forest green
Tattoos/Scars: None
Mental Description: Aggressive and short-tempered, Vyktoria lives up to the reputation of a ‘fiery red-head.’ She typically has very little patience, preferring to make her own path if she feels the alternatives are taking too long. When the situation demands it, however, she can force herself calm, though grudgingly.
In combat, she has a disastrous tendency to let her anger take over, and expend her magic on a handful of hyper-aggressive spells. Though these attacks are usually extremely potent, they leave her drained for the rest of the fight, unless she can somehow regenerate herself. In social situations, she’s often sarcastic and arrogant, though she reacts well to humour and level-headedness.
Weapons: In combat, she wields a long, straight staff forged of white silver, with a leather-wrapped gripping in the centre of the weapon. On one end of the staff, there is a globe of sea-blue sapphire, veined with white: it emits an intense chill, even when not in combat. On the other end of the weapon, a globe of fire-red garnet, laced with black: unsurprisingly, it is hot to the touch.
Armour/Clothing: Vyktoria wears a pair of sleek, though functional, black leather boots, overtop a pair of unornamented black silk stockings. Her skirt is likewise fashioned of black silk, though it is faded and slightly worn along the edge, which reaches to just above her knees. She wears a high collared, long sleeved woollen jacket, its colour a dark red, nearly brown, with white ivory buttons. Beneath this jacket, she wears a sleeveless, black cotton undershirt.
Inventory: Vyktoria keeps a small assortment of scrolls, food, medical supplies and coin in her pack, and a small handful of potions in the pockets of her jacket.
History: Both Vyktoria and her brother Nathan grew up in the Imperial City, children of an affair between an Altmer Magister and his Imperial mistress. While they were never wealthy, their father saw that his bastard children were provided for and given a proper education.
Several years ago, Vyk’s brother, Nathan, joined on with a salvage crew, making sporadic trips out of the city for supplies. While they were successful for a matter of months, after one excursion, Nathan and his friends didn’t return.
Fed up with being trapped inside the quarantine zone, worried for her brother’s welfare and eager to finally do something rather than wait for disease and death to find her, Vyktoria decided to join on with the rumoured excursion out of the city. Name: Vyktoria Alasdair
Race: Imperial
Gender: Female
Age: 25
Birthsign: The Warrior
Class: Mage
Skills: Destruction, Alteration, Restoration, Two-handed (Staves)
Physical Appearance: The influence of Altmer blood is evident enough in Vyktoria’s physique; she is taller than average for her race, and her limbs are just barely longer, more elegant, in appearance. Her shape is slender and reasonably well-endowed, though she is neither muscular nor particularly well-toned, having relied upon her magical talents for most of her life. The features of her face are soft and delicate in appearance, save her eyes, which hold a smouldering ferocity at the best of times.
Height: 6’0”
Hair: Dark, blood red, worn straight and nearly to her hips in length. Long bangs frame either side of her face.
Eyes: Dark, forest green
Tattoos/Scars: None
Mental Description: Aggressive and short-tempered, Vyktoria lives up to the reputation of a ‘fiery red-head.’ She typically has very little patience, preferring to make her own path if she feels the alternatives are taking too long. When the situation demands it, however, she can force herself calm, though grudgingly.
In combat, she has a disastrous tendency to let her anger take over, and expend her magic on a handful of hyper-aggressive spells. Though these attacks are usually extremely potent, they leave her drained for the rest of the fight, unless she can somehow regenerate herself. In social situations, she’s often sarcastic and arrogant, though she reacts well to humour and level-headedness.
Weapons: In combat, she wields a long, straight staff forged of white silver, with a leather-wrapped gripping in the centre of the weapon. On one end of the staff, there is a globe of sea-blue sapphire, veined with white: it emits an intense chill, even when not in combat. On the other end of the weapon, a globe of fire-red garnet, laced with black: unsurprisingly, it is hot to the touch.
Armour/Clothing: Vyktoria wears a pair of sleek, though functional, black leather boots, overtop a pair of unornamented black silk stockings. Her skirt is likewise fashioned of black silk, though it is faded and slightly worn along the edge, which reaches to just above her knees. She wears a high collared, long sleeved woollen jacket, its colour a dark red, nearly brown, with white ivory buttons. Beneath this jacket, she wears a sleeveless, black cotton undershirt.
Inventory: Vyktoria keeps a small assortment of scrolls, food, medical supplies and coin in her pack, and a small handful of potions in the pockets of her jacket.
History: Both Vyktoria and her brother Nathan grew up in the Imperial City, children of an affair between an Altmer Magister and his Imperial mistress. While they were never wealthy, their father saw that his bastard children were provided for and given a proper education.
Several years ago, Vyk’s brother, Nathan, joined on with a salvage crew, making sporadic trips out of the city for supplies. While they were successful for a matter of months, after one excursion, Nathan and his friends didn’t return.
Fed up with being trapped inside the quarantine zone, worried for her brother’s welfare and eager to finally do something rather than wait for disease and death to find her, Vyktoria decided to join on with the rumoured excursion out of the city.
Race: Imperial
Gender: Female
Age: 25
Birthsign: The Warrior
Class: Mage
Skills: Destruction, Alteration, Restoration, Two-handed (Staves)
Physical Appearance: The influence of Altmer blood is evident enough in Vyktoria’s physique; she is taller than average for her race, and her limbs are just barely longer, more elegant, in appearance. Her shape is slender and reasonably well-endowed, though she is neither muscular nor particularly well-toned, having relied upon her magical talents for most of her life. The features of her face are soft and delicate in appearance, save her eyes, which hold a smouldering ferocity at the best of times.
Height: 6’0”
Hair: Dark, blood red, worn straight and nearly to her hips in length. Long bangs frame either side of her face.
Eyes: Dark, forest green
Tattoos/Scars: None
Mental Description: Aggressive and short-tempered, Vyktoria lives up to the reputation of a ‘fiery red-head.’ She typically has very little patience, preferring to make her own path if she feels the alternatives are taking too long. When the situation demands it, however, she can force herself calm, though grudgingly.
In combat, she has a disastrous tendency to let her anger take over, and expend her magic on a handful of hyper-aggressive spells. Though these attacks are usually extremely potent, they leave her drained for the rest of the fight, unless she can somehow regenerate herself. In social situations, she’s often sarcastic and arrogant, though she reacts well to humour and level-headedness.
Weapons: In combat, she wields a long, straight staff forged of white silver, with a leather-wrapped gripping in the centre of the weapon. On one end of the staff, there is a globe of sea-blue sapphire, veined with white: it emits an intense chill, even when not in combat. On the other end of the weapon, a globe of fire-red garnet, laced with black: unsurprisingly, it is hot to the touch.
Armour/Clothing: Vyktoria wears a pair of sleek, though functional, black leather boots, overtop a pair of unornamented black silk stockings. Her skirt is likewise fashioned of black silk, though it is faded and slightly worn along the edge, which reaches to just above her knees. She wears a high collared, long sleeved woollen jacket, its colour a dark red, nearly brown, with white ivory buttons. Beneath this jacket, she wears a sleeveless, black cotton undershirt.
Inventory: Vyktoria keeps a small assortment of scrolls, food, medical supplies and coin in her pack, and a small handful of potions in the pockets of her jacket.
History: Both Vyktoria and her brother Nathan grew up in the Imperial City, children of an affair between an Altmer Magister and his Imperial mistress. While they were never wealthy, their father saw that his bastard children were provided for and given a proper education.
Several years ago, Vyk’s brother, Nathan, joined on with a salvage crew, making sporadic trips out of the city for supplies. While they were successful for a matter of months, after one excursion, Nathan and his friends didn’t return.
Fed up with being trapped inside the quarantine zone, worried for her brother’s welfare and eager to finally do something rather than wait for disease and death to find her, Vyktoria decided to join on with the rumoured excursion out of the city. Name: Vyktoria Alasdair
Race: Imperial
Gender: Female
Age: 25
Birthsign: The Warrior
Class: Mage
Skills: Destruction, Alteration, Restoration, Two-handed (Staves)
Physical Appearance: The influence of Altmer blood is evident enough in Vyktoria’s physique; she is taller than average for her race, and her limbs are just barely longer, more elegant, in appearance. Her shape is slender and reasonably well-endowed, though she is neither muscular nor particularly well-toned, having relied upon her magical talents for most of her life. The features of her face are soft and delicate in appearance, save her eyes, which hold a smouldering ferocity at the best of times.
Height: 6’0”
Hair: Dark, blood red, worn straight and nearly to her hips in length. Long bangs frame either side of her face.
Eyes: Dark, forest green
Tattoos/Scars: None
Mental Description: Aggressive and short-tempered, Vyktoria lives up to the reputation of a ‘fiery red-head.’ She typically has very little patience, preferring to make her own path if she feels the alternatives are taking too long. When the situation demands it, however, she can force herself calm, though grudgingly.
In combat, she has a disastrous tendency to let her anger take over, and expend her magic on a handful of hyper-aggressive spells. Though these attacks are usually extremely potent, they leave her drained for the rest of the fight, unless she can somehow regenerate herself. In social situations, she’s often sarcastic and arrogant, though she reacts well to humour and level-headedness.
Weapons: In combat, she wields a long, straight staff forged of white silver, with a leather-wrapped gripping in the centre of the weapon. On one end of the staff, there is a globe of sea-blue sapphire, veined with white: it emits an intense chill, even when not in combat. On the other end of the weapon, a globe of fire-red garnet, laced with black: unsurprisingly, it is hot to the touch.
Armour/Clothing: Vyktoria wears a pair of sleek, though functional, black leather boots, overtop a pair of unornamented black silk stockings. Her skirt is likewise fashioned of black silk, though it is faded and slightly worn along the edge, which reaches to just above her knees. She wears a high collared, long sleeved woollen jacket, its colour a dark red, nearly brown, with white ivory buttons. Beneath this jacket, she wears a sleeveless, black cotton undershirt.
Inventory: Vyktoria keeps a small assortment of scrolls, food, medical supplies and coin in her pack, and a small handful of potions in the pockets of her jacket.
History: Both Vyktoria and her brother Nathan grew up in the Imperial City, children of an affair between an Altmer Magister and his Imperial mistress. While they were never wealthy, their father saw that his bastard children were provided for and given a proper education.
Several years ago, Vyk’s brother, Nathan, joined on with a salvage crew, making sporadic trips out of the city for supplies. While they were successful for a matter of months, after one excursion, Nathan and his friends didn’t return.
Fed up with being trapped inside the quarantine zone, worried for her brother’s welfare and eager to finally do something rather than wait for disease and death to find her, Vyktoria decided to join on with the rumoured excursion out of the city.
Darkom:
RESERVED
