» Sun Jan 13, 2013 11:41 am Introduction:
Isle of N’Gasta is a small island, owned and terrorized by a Sload necromancer during the last century of the 2nd era. The famed Redguard hero, Cyrus, defeated the Sload N’Gasta, leaving the Isle empty and unoccupied. Great noble clans of Hammerfell, with connections to Cyrodiil and the Empire, have pondered over what to do with the small, isolated island that is frequently struck by mighty storms, possibly sealing it away from any ship connections for weeks at an end.
During the 3rd era, at the beginning of the third century, the powers in Hammerfell had come to a conclusion with the Empire. The stormy and isolated island would be transformed into a fortress, a place to store away criminals deemed too violent and risky to keep in regular prisons. The wealth behind the project was immense, yet only a fraction of the money involving the building of the fortress found the worker’s pockets. Most man-power came from criminals, lured by the promise of shortened sentences, or simply forced to work. The fortress was ready at 3E 324, with countless criminals and convicts dead. But in the end, the powers didn’t care for the lives lost, as most of them had walked away rich. The finished fortress was named “Safety”, meant not to keep those inside safe, but those outside of it safe from those inside. The first few decades of its existence were successful, as all the most unstable criminals were shipped there, never to be heard from again. The storms, sealing the island from ships for weeks at a time, made times tough in the fortress, making the existing food a rare commodity towards the end. But there would always be a new ship arriving with fresh food, supplies and convicts. But later, the threshold for shipping criminals to the island became lower and lower. Whether this change in politics had something to do with the capital city of Hammerfell, Hegathe, losing its status, making the city of Sentinel, located much further away from the island of Safety, the new capital of Hammerfell, is unclear.
The fortress has been a great success in the eyes of the nobles, and a terror to criminals, causing greater stability to spread through the lands. During the 4th era, the fortress’s influence expanded, as the noble houses of Hammerfell took gifts in exchange to lock away dangerous criminals from all over Tamriel.
The island became a constant source for money to the noble houses of Hammerfell and it has stayed that way throughout the fourth era, all the way to the current days of 4E 200. Each passing year has lowered the threshold for who’s sentenced to Safety, where most are never heard from again. In rare cases, the freedom of a criminal is bought at a high price, going straight to the pockets of the Hammerfell noble’s. Often they first accept a large amount of gold to lock the criminal in, only to accept an even larger amount of coin to set them free mere days later, before they’ve even left the shores due to raging storms stopping ships from coming close.
To the criminals inside Safety, life isn’t smiling. The smartest criminals have formed gangs, proclaiming themselves kings of the different areas in Safety. At the same time you have the majority of prisoners bowing heads to all these groups at the same time, trying to stay invisible and on the good sides of the gangs. New prisoners are often welcomed, as it means fresh supplies and food at the same time, but once the first storms hit the island again, it becomes a game of survival. Who has managed to hide the most of the food when there still was a lot of it? Who will you betray, who will you form an alliance with? New prisoners often have no idea what to expect, soon dying of starvation if they can’t find a way to blend in.
The constant battle for survival leaves little time for prisoners to gather around and ponder of a way to escape the island. Truly, none has escaped Safety. Once you’re locked inside, you most certainly will die there. Unless you have wealthy friends on the outside, that is.
There are guards a plenty on the island, as the pay is luxurious for guard-duty. Where you get mere lodgings over your head, food and ale to keep your belly satisfied and a septim a day elsewhere, in Safety you get thousands of septims in a month. Indeed, nothing the prisoners have to offer is of interest to the guards. Even if you have the wealth from outside to bribe the guards with, you’d easily fail. The money they are paid is large enough to guarantee absolutely loyalty, with a single mission: Keep the prisoners inside.
But who needs guards to keep the prisoners inside of Safety anyway? The corridors and wings the prisoners can access are sealed from the quarter’s the guards are located in. There are not only the best locks money can buy, both magical and physical, but also entire walls moved straight into holes in the ground to seal the place in, only able to be opened from the guard’s side. Mages aren’t a problem, as prisoners who are known to have magical knowledge are forced to wear a cuff of reinforced ebony around their wrist, heavily enchanted with a directly silencing property. Removing an ebony cuff without hacking your arm away isn’t possible, but even for those Mages that have chosen to hack their arm away, or have been able to hide their magical knowledge, Safety has a counter. Shiny crystals and gleaming gems, hungry for magicka, are located everywhere at Safety, hidden behind stone walls, hidden in the ground and the roof. An attempt to cast anything stronger than a puff of air or a spark of a flame is instantly absorbed by the gems, effectively ending any and all magical means to escape the island.
***
A fierce storm has raged on the Isle, keeping cargo ships away from the prison-fortress of Safety. The place has been sealed away for three long weeks and relentlessly assaulted by thunder and mighty waves of the freezing ocean.
North from the island, at the ports of Hegathe, criminals and convicts from all over Tamriel have been gathered, awaiting clear weather to sail to the isolated and lonely island, to be locked away until life has abandoned their withered bodies. The large cargo ship is full of fresh supplies and food, most of it going straight to the guards working on the island. The rest is given to the prisoners. Salted and charred meats, sour bread, dried beans, rice, honey, wheat, salt, sugar, dried corn, fish, fruits, nuts, in addition to barrels upon barrels of fresh water, with a possibly barrel of ale or mead every now and then. There’s really no shortage of food in Safety for anyone as long as there isn’t a storm, but on the island, storms are much more common than clear days.
Of all the storms that have hit the island, the latest one was amongst the shortest ones. Truly, three weeks of isolation doesn’t cause more than a little concern for the prisoners. But when it’s over a month long, things start to get ugly. The lack of fresh food and clean water have broken loyalties, just like the storms always have, as everyone gets more and more determined to stay alive themselves. Still, the most organized gangs keep together in dark times, realizing the strength in teamwork.
The storms have calmed for now, and the cargo ship will soon leave towards the island. Prisoners are pushed to their temporary cells under the decks, stripped from valuables before coming on board, given plain sack clothing. The local blacksmith, hired by the noble houses of Hammerfell, forge on an ebony cuff on anyone who’s suspected to be a mage. The cuff is unbreakable by anything except for a mighty blow from a reinforced ebony hammer, after being heated to extreme temperatures at a roaring fire. Such luxury is impossible to find anywhere on the island, ensuring the cuff stays on for as long as the prisoners remain there.
The cargo ship has a handful of prisoners on board, all in their own cells, not high enough to stand straight in, nor wide enough to lay straight in. The cells are packed next to each-other, dozens in a row, each containing a criminal unlucky enough to be sentenced to Safety, possibly the worst fate a prisoner can get. The room with the new arrivals is not lit, the only light seen is the one through the closed door, seeping in through the bottom of it. Every cell has a prisoner in it, some of them redguard’s, some of them outlanders.
***
Safety is a grand fortress of black stone, looking grim and rugged to the outside world. The inside is just as grim as the outside, with cold stone everywhere. Corridors and mazes are lit by torches and the occasional magical gem, placed in areas where the prisoner’s cannot reach them. A couple of them have fallen down and are used to light up different gang areas otherwise unlit by torches and gems. The floor is plain and filthy, cold nearly everywhere. Hay and dirt has been gathered to the cells where the prisoner’s sleep, the many hundreds of sack-clothes used by past prisoners keeping the floor inside most cells warm enough to sleep on at even the coldest nights.
The corridors are high to the roof and wide as a Jarl’s longhouse on most places. The stairs leading up and down in the maze inside the fortress are the narrowest places in the building. Cells are located on every side in every place around the room, some of which aren’t in use, some of which are the head-quarter of different gangs, some of which are used as meeting places and gambling dens, “trading halls” and “market-places”. Cells come in all shapes and sizes, but only the small ones are empty.
Gambling in Safety is quite common, both card and dice-games. The ante is often septims, as those have nearly no real value inside the prison. But sometimes stakes can be higher, where make-shift weapons or rare supplies are gambled for.
The “trading halls” and “market places” are usually run in the biggest cells of the largest gangs, ensuring everyone can behave when they are inside. Enter at your own risk, as you are just as likely to be robbed in there with ten against one, as you are to get a trade. It all depends who you know in Safety. As such, most prisoners stay away from the trading halls, unless they have no alternative.
The mood inside Safety is high, as everyone can hear the storms have calmed for now. To them it means fresh supplies, and new arrivals, will be here, possibly as soon as tomorrow.
***
Meet the characters:
(underlined name is the RP'ers username. Itallic fint contains information about the character, name, race, gender, role, and how long they've been at Safety at the start of the RP)
Madhog
Sabrin Aurrus - Breton Female. Prisoner, 6 months.
Spoiler
Character name: Sabrin Aurrus
Race: Breton
Gender: Female
Age: 25
Birthsign: The Serpent
Gang: The Crimson Daggers
Appearance: http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2012/284/6/1/6124d1e115f71d173035938f6bf691c7-d5hgnkv.jpg
Clothing/Armor: Blackened sack clothing.
Weapons: Rope, and a sharpened spoon with a sharp rock attached to the blunt end.
Personality: Like her birthsign, Sabrin strikes when least expected. A cold and cruel woman she strikes in an instant. She looks out for herself first and others later resulting in her becoming reclusive at times.. Anyone that stands in her way will be dispatched of quickly and easily as she is extremly determined. However she is greedy and desires all things to be hers, and can be over-confident.
Skills: Skilled with daggers and short-swords, and has a deadly aim that has silenced many. can melt into the shadows in an instant. She is also very skilled in acrobatics.
Major Flaw(s): Greedy and over-confident.
Background: Sabrin was raised in a broken home in the Waterfront of the Imperial City. Her father was a drunk and her mother was dead, so she often left the house. She crept through the darkness of the city peeping in windows at the better off children. She grew angry at them as she couldn't understand why they had such a good life. She cursed her luck, and looked for some way to improve her life. Unfortunately she found the best way to do this was through killing.
It started as a few robberys on the wild roads outside the city, and grew worse over time. She began to almost like killing, and preyed closer and closer to the walls of the city. At last her bloodshed was brought into the streets, the merchants of the city being slaughtered fr their goods. Sabrin believed herself to be un-catchable, but that was not the case.
She was caught literally red-handed one night, the blood of her lastest victim still dripping from her fingers, by a merchant. He wished to exact the harshest punishment he could think of upon her, so she was exchanged for a sack of coin, to her new life in confinement within Safety.
She quickly flourished in the prison and soon found herself with a great deal of power and authority and formed her own gang, The Crimson Daggers.
Race: Breton
Gender: Female
Age: 25
Birthsign: The Serpent
Gang: The Crimson Daggers
Appearance: http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2012/284/6/1/6124d1e115f71d173035938f6bf691c7-d5hgnkv.jpg
Clothing/Armor: Blackened sack clothing.
Weapons: Rope, and a sharpened spoon with a sharp rock attached to the blunt end.
Personality: Like her birthsign, Sabrin strikes when least expected. A cold and cruel woman she strikes in an instant. She looks out for herself first and others later resulting in her becoming reclusive at times.. Anyone that stands in her way will be dispatched of quickly and easily as she is extremly determined. However she is greedy and desires all things to be hers, and can be over-confident.
Skills: Skilled with daggers and short-swords, and has a deadly aim that has silenced many. can melt into the shadows in an instant. She is also very skilled in acrobatics.
Major Flaw(s): Greedy and over-confident.
Background: Sabrin was raised in a broken home in the Waterfront of the Imperial City. Her father was a drunk and her mother was dead, so she often left the house. She crept through the darkness of the city peeping in windows at the better off children. She grew angry at them as she couldn't understand why they had such a good life. She cursed her luck, and looked for some way to improve her life. Unfortunately she found the best way to do this was through killing.
It started as a few robberys on the wild roads outside the city, and grew worse over time. She began to almost like killing, and preyed closer and closer to the walls of the city. At last her bloodshed was brought into the streets, the merchants of the city being slaughtered fr their goods. Sabrin believed herself to be un-catchable, but that was not the case.
She was caught literally red-handed one night, the blood of her lastest victim still dripping from her fingers, by a merchant. He wished to exact the harshest punishment he could think of upon her, so she was exchanged for a sack of coin, to her new life in confinement within Safety.
She quickly flourished in the prison and soon found herself with a great deal of power and authority and formed her own gang, The Crimson Daggers.
Ra'Gru Shak - Orc Male. Guard, 2 months.
Spoiler
Name: Ra'Gru Shak
Race: Orc
Gender: Male
Age: 34
Birthsign: The Warrior
Appearance: http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2012/136/a/5/vaurk_umak_by_noroone-d5002ft.jpg
Clothing/Armor: Steel armor worn except when asleep.
Personality: Ra'Gru is a tough and hardy orc. He has a steel will and gruff voice, which coupled with his grumpy attitude can make others wary. Serious when speaking to those he does not know, but can be quite relaxed with those he does.
Skills: Skilled in using and axe and shield, and can support the burden of heavy armor, which he is capable of making for himself.
Major Flaw(s): Can be rash and bold without thinking things through.
Background: Ra'Gru was born into a life of violence, as he emerged from his mother in the midst of a battle. The child was born during a great and bloody fight, and witnessed the death of many from his cradle. Later in life he would often fight at every chance he got, relishing in the feeling of victory. Often his violence would land him in trouble however, and it was what lead to him becoming a guard.
In the midst of a drunken brawl he killed a man, and was sent to prison for 3 years. During his time inside he learned the ins and outs of the inamtes, and resolved never to mix with scum like them again. After he was released from prison he kept true to his resolve and sought out a job which could help him keep the criminals where they belonged. Needless to say he ended up a prison guard.
His time inside made him wise to the ways of the in-mates, and garnerd him much respect among his peers. He became somewhat of a legend as far as jail guards go, keeping the convicts in line wherever he was. It was this skill that finally resulted in his transfer to Safety, where he has been stationed for 2 months.
Race: Orc
Gender: Male
Age: 34
Birthsign: The Warrior
Appearance: http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2012/136/a/5/vaurk_umak_by_noroone-d5002ft.jpg
Clothing/Armor: Steel armor worn except when asleep.
Personality: Ra'Gru is a tough and hardy orc. He has a steel will and gruff voice, which coupled with his grumpy attitude can make others wary. Serious when speaking to those he does not know, but can be quite relaxed with those he does.
Skills: Skilled in using and axe and shield, and can support the burden of heavy armor, which he is capable of making for himself.
Major Flaw(s): Can be rash and bold without thinking things through.
Background: Ra'Gru was born into a life of violence, as he emerged from his mother in the midst of a battle. The child was born during a great and bloody fight, and witnessed the death of many from his cradle. Later in life he would often fight at every chance he got, relishing in the feeling of victory. Often his violence would land him in trouble however, and it was what lead to him becoming a guard.
In the midst of a drunken brawl he killed a man, and was sent to prison for 3 years. During his time inside he learned the ins and outs of the inamtes, and resolved never to mix with scum like them again. After he was released from prison he kept true to his resolve and sought out a job which could help him keep the criminals where they belonged. Needless to say he ended up a prison guard.
His time inside made him wise to the ways of the in-mates, and garnerd him much respect among his peers. He became somewhat of a legend as far as jail guards go, keeping the convicts in line wherever he was. It was this skill that finally resulted in his transfer to Safety, where he has been stationed for 2 months.
The Ascended Sleeper
Varth Ommek - Dunmer Male. Prisoner, 9 years.
Spoiler
Name: Varthlokkur Ommek (Varth for short)
Race: Dark Elf
Gender: Male
Age: Roughly 250 years old
Appearance:
While Dunmer are of the longer living races of Tamriel, the two centuries of experience, adventure, and strife has taken its toll on Varth. No longer does this Sorcerer resemble his old, dashing and roguish self; wrinkles adorning his gaunt and once handsome face, his brown hair now fading to a dark gray. His red eyes do not burn as fiery and passionate as they once did, though there are times when they seem to come alive with energy and emotion. Standing at a solid six feet, he is often hunched over, adopting a rather weary and weathered look.
Personality:
Varth was once, despite his misfortunes, hardships, and numerous adversaries, quite a cheerful Dunmer. His sarcastic and playful tone has dulled over the years, and he is now an old, seldom speaking mer who founds humor in speaking cryptically to the young’uns. The mind that once contemplated and plotted the conquering and taking over of kingdoms now dwells only on impending death, and perhaps how to avoid it.
Skills, Abilities, and Talents:
Varth was once a powerful Sorcerer, greedy for power and enchantments, and his acquired skills and talents reflect this. Conjuration, Alteration, Enchant, and Alchemy are his forte. He uses Conjuration mainly to summon the spirits of the deceased to inhabit reconstructed bodies (Necromancy), Alteration to increase his physical capabilities in combat and when breaking and entering), and enchanting used to make strange and unique trinkets. Two lesser fields of ability Varth is skilled in would be both the school of Illusion, and the art of Pugilism (hand to hand combat). However skilled he once was, old age has taken its toll here as well, and he has but a shadow of his former power left in him.
Equipment:
Before being captured, Varth carried but a dark set of robes and a cloak, some simple clothes, and a few magical trinkets. Now that he has been captured, he has nothing but the rags on his back, and the ebony band on his wrist. Varth carries a small, makeshift shiv made from the glass fragments of a broken bottle, and has two portions of Jarrin Root wrapped in pieces of cloth, stored away in a small fissure in the wall of his cell.
History:
Varth grew up in an orphanage with no parents, and at a young age, was adopted by the Tribunal Temple. He began learned at the Temple very early on, yearning for spirituality and knowledge. After many years, he raised high into the ranks due to his cunning and intellect, and use of magic. He became an inquisitor at Vivic’s Hall of Justice. While this position seems quite action orientated, it truly was not; Varth spent most of his time in the library of Vivec, reading and organizing, as well as offering his services as an Alchemist and Enchanter to the Temple, though he did preform the occasional assassination, interrogation, and execution.
But, as he got to an even higher rank, Varth discovered the truth behind the Tribunal’s power. He felt betrayed and lied too, and all of the assassinations he performed for the Temple were against innocent citizens. Varth quickly pack up his belongings and fled Morrowind in a rage, but his exit was not as crafty as preferred.
He ended up killing three Temple personnel to escape, and was branded a heretic. Varth ran from the Temple assassins for many years, and in said time, he joined the Thieves Guild and a few mercenary groups. Varth was finally able to stop running when the Neravine completed his quest and killed Dagoth Ur, and the number of assassins who hunted him finally trickled down to only one or two.
Varth then ended up traversing Tamriel aimlessly, searching for power, profane and otherwise, and fell into several Necromancer Cults and Witch Covens (the relationships with which never lasted for very long). Not long after the Oblivion Crisis, Varth attempted to perform a coup in the Kingdom of Camlorn with the aid of an army of Dremora who he had allied himself with. Long story short, the coup was a failure, but resulting in the death of the King, his heir, a Duke, and a Count, making Varth one of the most wanted men in not only High Rock, but throughout Tamriel. Many other incidents involving Wayrest, Sentinel, mainland Morrowind, and the holds of Skyrim add to Varth’s infamy, though none of these were as nortorious as his attempted coup in Camlorn.
Ever since, Varth has been traveling, learning, and manipulating. It has been nine years since he was captured, and has been rotting in Safety ever since, procrastinating on dying.
Name: Varthlokkur Ommek (Varth for short)
Race: Dark Elf
Gender: Male
Age: Roughly 250 years old
Appearance:
While Dunmer are of the longer living races of Tamriel, the two centuries of experience, adventure, and strife has taken its toll on Varth. No longer does this Sorcerer resemble his old, dashing and roguish self; wrinkles adorning his gaunt and once handsome face, his brown hair now fading to a dark gray. His red eyes do not burn as fiery and passionate as they once did, though there are times when they seem to come alive with energy and emotion. Standing at a solid six feet, he is often hunched over, adopting a rather weary and weathered look.
Personality:
Varth was once, despite his misfortunes, hardships, and numerous adversaries, quite a cheerful Dunmer. His sarcastic and playful tone has dulled over the years, and he is now an old, seldom speaking mer who founds humor in speaking cryptically to the young’uns. The mind that once contemplated and plotted the conquering and taking over of kingdoms now dwells only on impending death, and perhaps how to avoid it.
Skills, Abilities, and Talents:
Varth was once a powerful Sorcerer, greedy for power and enchantments, and his acquired skills and talents reflect this. Conjuration, Alteration, Enchant, and Alchemy are his forte. He uses Conjuration mainly to summon the spirits of the deceased to inhabit reconstructed bodies (Necromancy), Alteration to increase his physical capabilities in combat and when breaking and entering), and enchanting used to make strange and unique trinkets. Two lesser fields of ability Varth is skilled in would be both the school of Illusion, and the art of Pugilism (hand to hand combat). However skilled he once was, old age has taken its toll here as well, and he has but a shadow of his former power left in him.
Equipment:
Before being captured, Varth carried but a dark set of robes and a cloak, some simple clothes, and a few magical trinkets. Now that he has been captured, he has nothing but the rags on his back, and the ebony band on his wrist. Varth carries a small, makeshift shiv made from the glass fragments of a broken bottle, and has two portions of Jarrin Root wrapped in pieces of cloth, stored away in a small fissure in the wall of his cell.
History:
Varth grew up in an orphanage with no parents, and at a young age, was adopted by the Tribunal Temple. He began learned at the Temple very early on, yearning for spirituality and knowledge. After many years, he raised high into the ranks due to his cunning and intellect, and use of magic. He became an inquisitor at Vivic’s Hall of Justice. While this position seems quite action orientated, it truly was not; Varth spent most of his time in the library of Vivec, reading and organizing, as well as offering his services as an Alchemist and Enchanter to the Temple, though he did preform the occasional assassination, interrogation, and execution.
But, as he got to an even higher rank, Varth discovered the truth behind the Tribunal’s power. He felt betrayed and lied too, and all of the assassinations he performed for the Temple were against innocent citizens. Varth quickly pack up his belongings and fled Morrowind in a rage, but his exit was not as crafty as preferred.
He ended up killing three Temple personnel to escape, and was branded a heretic. Varth ran from the Temple assassins for many years, and in said time, he joined the Thieves Guild and a few mercenary groups. Varth was finally able to stop running when the Neravine completed his quest and killed Dagoth Ur, and the number of assassins who hunted him finally trickled down to only one or two.
Varth then ended up traversing Tamriel aimlessly, searching for power, profane and otherwise, and fell into several Necromancer Cults and Witch Covens (the relationships with which never lasted for very long). Not long after the Oblivion Crisis, Varth attempted to perform a coup in the Kingdom of Camlorn with the aid of an army of Dremora who he had allied himself with. Long story short, the coup was a failure, but resulting in the death of the King, his heir, a Duke, and a Count, making Varth one of the most wanted men in not only High Rock, but throughout Tamriel. Many other incidents involving Wayrest, Sentinel, mainland Morrowind, and the holds of Skyrim add to Varth’s infamy, though none of these were as nortorious as his attempted coup in Camlorn.
Ever since, Varth has been traveling, learning, and manipulating. It has been nine years since he was captured, and has been rotting in Safety ever since, procrastinating on dying.
Dovakhin
Marcus Facici - Imperial Male. Prisoner. New arrival.
Spoiler
Name: Marcus Facici
Age: 45
Race:Imperial
Gender: Male
Height:5'7''
Birthsign: Thief
Appearance: Plump, clean shaven, oiled hair (likely to change) large bald spot and receding hairline. Brown eyes, pale skin. Looks somewhat like a glorified clerk.
Class: Merchant, appraiser of magical goods
Skills and spell-effects: Good knowledge of enchantments, artifacts, and value of magical items (only a student’s skill in actual enchanting). A weak charm spell.
Clothing: Sack-clothing given to him upon stepping onboard the cargo-ship to Safety.
Personality: Weak-willed, self-obsessed, spoiled, lazy, pathetic, but intelligent and jocular.
( Major flaw: Greedy, Lazy)
Background: Was an apprentice at the Mage's College for several years, where he learned much about enchanting, but quit and join the East Empire Company. Worked his way to a position where he opened a new office for the Company in Hammerfall. Using questionable business tactics, grew the office until it was found that he was running various schemes, using smugglers and selling drink laced with moon sugar to get customers addicted. He cost several very important people a fortune, which landed him a ticket to Safety.
Name: Marcus Facici
Age: 45
Race:Imperial
Gender: Male
Height:5'7''
Birthsign: Thief
Appearance: Plump, clean shaven, oiled hair (likely to change) large bald spot and receding hairline. Brown eyes, pale skin. Looks somewhat like a glorified clerk.
Class: Merchant, appraiser of magical goods
Skills and spell-effects: Good knowledge of enchantments, artifacts, and value of magical items (only a student’s skill in actual enchanting). A weak charm spell.
Clothing: Sack-clothing given to him upon stepping onboard the cargo-ship to Safety.
Personality: Weak-willed, self-obsessed, spoiled, lazy, pathetic, but intelligent and jocular.
( Major flaw: Greedy, Lazy)
Background: Was an apprentice at the Mage's College for several years, where he learned much about enchanting, but quit and join the East Empire Company. Worked his way to a position where he opened a new office for the Company in Hammerfall. Using questionable business tactics, grew the office until it was found that he was running various schemes, using smugglers and selling drink laced with moon sugar to get customers addicted. He cost several very important people a fortune, which landed him a ticket to Safety.
WD40
Dyne Wolfram - Nord Male. Prisoner. New arrival.
Spoiler
Name: Dyne Wolfram
Age: 21
Race: Nord
Gender: Male
Height: 5’7
Birthsign: The Steed
Appearance: Pale skinned. Clean shaven, with shoulder length unwashed brown hair. Brownish amber eyes. He is built stocky and muscular, with particularly strong and defined arm muscles. His face has several nicks and cuts, though no serious scars.
Class: Pugilist
Skills: Very skilled in hand to hand combat
Clothing: Prisoner’s sack cloth
Weapons: A plain steel ring on his left hand
Items: None
Personality: Very rough and tumble, Dyne always likes to be at the front of the action, and tackle his problems with force rather than thought. He is loyal to those he trusts, but is self-centered and puts himself above his friends.
Major Flaw: He is short tempered, and thinks mostly with his fists rather than rationalizing his problems.
Background: Dyne Wolfram was always a fighter. For as long as he could remember he would scrap with anyone who would cross his path. His upbringing of violence lead him down a surprisingly crime-free life however, as he quickly took it upon himself to get into the world of pugilism to vent his violent tendencies.
For several years he managed to stay out of even the town prisons, his worst crime being drunkenness. This changed quite quickly, when after one of his fights a belligerent Imperial whom had bet on his opponent had approached Dyne. Within moments, he had killed the man with his fists alone. Only after he had killed him did he find out he had killed a governor of Cyrodiil. Within days he was tried and convicted and sent to be shipped to Safety.
Age: 21
Race: Nord
Gender: Male
Height: 5’7
Birthsign: The Steed
Appearance: Pale skinned. Clean shaven, with shoulder length unwashed brown hair. Brownish amber eyes. He is built stocky and muscular, with particularly strong and defined arm muscles. His face has several nicks and cuts, though no serious scars.
Class: Pugilist
Skills: Very skilled in hand to hand combat
Clothing: Prisoner’s sack cloth
Weapons: A plain steel ring on his left hand
Items: None
Personality: Very rough and tumble, Dyne always likes to be at the front of the action, and tackle his problems with force rather than thought. He is loyal to those he trusts, but is self-centered and puts himself above his friends.
Major Flaw: He is short tempered, and thinks mostly with his fists rather than rationalizing his problems.
Background: Dyne Wolfram was always a fighter. For as long as he could remember he would scrap with anyone who would cross his path. His upbringing of violence lead him down a surprisingly crime-free life however, as he quickly took it upon himself to get into the world of pugilism to vent his violent tendencies.
For several years he managed to stay out of even the town prisons, his worst crime being drunkenness. This changed quite quickly, when after one of his fights a belligerent Imperial whom had bet on his opponent had approached Dyne. Within moments, he had killed the man with his fists alone. Only after he had killed him did he find out he had killed a governor of Cyrodiil. Within days he was tried and convicted and sent to be shipped to Safety.
What is that! Your mom.
Corvus Olu - Imperial Male. Prisoner. New arrival.
Spoiler
Name:Corvus Olu
Race: Cyrodiilic Colovian.
Gender:Male.
Age:32
Birthsign:The warrior.
Appearance:This man is athletically built, he has a shaved, clean hair. (Which is odd for a stererotypical Colovian.) Green eyes. And he generally has an imtimidating look.
Class:An adventure. Atleast before he was arrested.
Skills: He is good with a one-handed blade. And given his strength, can also be good with his fists.
Spells:Never really wanted to be a mage.
Personality: Stubborn, sarcastic, has a sense of humor, And he just doesn't like staying in one place for too long.
(Flaws:)His main flaw is his stubborness. It had sometimes lead him to some problems in the past. Infact, it's what put him in Safety in the first place. And it may caused him his life in the prison.
History: Son to a travelling merchant, Corvus was surprisingly not interested in following his father's footsteps. Yet he always wanted to become an adventure. So when he turned 18, he left his home city Anvil to simply wander around the continent. And so he travelled across Tamriel for years. He had seen the White-Gold-Tower in The Imperial City, the Sugar addicted culture of Elsweyre, the vast, alien forrest of Valenwood, The cold mountains of Skyrim, the deserts of Hammerfell.
However, he eventually missed his home and his family. And so he returned to Anvil at 32, 24 years after he left it for a life of Adventure. He planned to reunite with his family, and to live of the riches he had earned from adventuring. However, the count of Anvil was corrupt. And while his father had grew richer since Corvus left Anvil, he was wrongfully accused by the count for worshiping Talos (Which is outlawed by The WGC.) and his whole family was sent to The Thalmor. They were never heard from again.
Corvus had lost it. And without though, went to The Castle of Anvil and assassinated the count by simply rushing to him and stabbing him before the guards could react. The Count's son, upset by his father death, wanted to punish Corvus. But he does not want him to die. And debated to himself on sending him to Safety, or to The Thalmor. (After all, his father was accused of worshiping Talos, and he could very well be one too according to The Thalmor.) The count's son felt it is a worse fate to rot in Safety. And so he bribed the nobles of Hammerfell to put him in this godsforsaken prison.
Race: Cyrodiilic Colovian.
Gender:Male.
Age:32
Birthsign:The warrior.
Appearance:This man is athletically built, he has a shaved, clean hair. (Which is odd for a stererotypical Colovian.) Green eyes. And he generally has an imtimidating look.
Class:An adventure. Atleast before he was arrested.
Skills: He is good with a one-handed blade. And given his strength, can also be good with his fists.
Spells:Never really wanted to be a mage.
Personality: Stubborn, sarcastic, has a sense of humor, And he just doesn't like staying in one place for too long.
(Flaws:)His main flaw is his stubborness. It had sometimes lead him to some problems in the past. Infact, it's what put him in Safety in the first place. And it may caused him his life in the prison.
History: Son to a travelling merchant, Corvus was surprisingly not interested in following his father's footsteps. Yet he always wanted to become an adventure. So when he turned 18, he left his home city Anvil to simply wander around the continent. And so he travelled across Tamriel for years. He had seen the White-Gold-Tower in The Imperial City, the Sugar addicted culture of Elsweyre, the vast, alien forrest of Valenwood, The cold mountains of Skyrim, the deserts of Hammerfell.
However, he eventually missed his home and his family. And so he returned to Anvil at 32, 24 years after he left it for a life of Adventure. He planned to reunite with his family, and to live of the riches he had earned from adventuring. However, the count of Anvil was corrupt. And while his father had grew richer since Corvus left Anvil, he was wrongfully accused by the count for worshiping Talos (Which is outlawed by The WGC.) and his whole family was sent to The Thalmor. They were never heard from again.
Corvus had lost it. And without though, went to The Castle of Anvil and assassinated the count by simply rushing to him and stabbing him before the guards could react. The Count's son, upset by his father death, wanted to punish Corvus. But he does not want him to die. And debated to himself on sending him to Safety, or to The Thalmor. (After all, his father was accused of worshiping Talos, and he could very well be one too according to The Thalmor.) The count's son felt it is a worse fate to rot in Safety. And so he bribed the nobles of Hammerfell to put him in this godsforsaken prison.
Yes Man FTW
Alaskar - Altmer Male. Prisoner, 2 years.
Spoiler
Name: Alaskar
Gender: Male
Race: Altmer
Height: 5ft 10in
Age: 129 (Appears around 32)
Birthsign: The Serpent
Moral Alignment: Neutral
Appearance: http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2012/092/b/7/altmer_by_milulya-d4uri9j.jpg
Personality: Intelligent, Tricky, Manipulative, and always remains a power player. He is extremely organized and cold to his enemies, can organize rather well in new environments, enjoys crime in an unhealthy amount.
Class: Crimelord
Non-Combat Skills: Extremely manipulative, and will use magic to amplify this.
Combat: Can fight with a blade rather decently, but will not be making a power play in the prison for a long time.
Magic: Moderate in Alteration, Mysticism, and Illusion (Charm Spells).
Stealth: Little to no sneaking prowess, though his silver tongue can often be used to his advantage.
Clothing/Armor: This is not applicable, though if given the opportunity he’d wear some form of noble wear. He previously wore robes adorned in shades of grey and white that hid his face. Carries one of the ebony cuffs.
Weapons/Equipment: He formerly possessed an Ebony Wakizashi. He now carries a small shiv made from various bits of wood, metal, and glass.
Miscellaneous: He formerly carried potions in a belt that would amplify his personality.
History: Alaskar was born in the Imperial City’s rundown docks; his family whilst still poor was moderately successful. However, their success was driven by crime; they were thieves and burglars, a profession that only would increase the Imperial’s hatred for his family. Eventually a riot occurred, forcing them to flee. His mother unfortunately sold herself to a pirate in exchange for Alaskar to work with them; her fate remains unknown to this day. After a sour… dispute with an Imperial Warship the Pirates soon found themselves washed up in Valenwood, Alaskar took this as his chance to get revenge for all the times they’d used him as a tool. He killed the Captain with his own blade, an Ebony Wakizashi and the others with magic. He soon went into the Employ of the Aldmeri Dominion whilst still taking odd jobs with the Empire, playing both sides and getting the advantages of each. However he quit doing jobs for government and worked with Private Contracting for a while. This group called themselves the “Twisted Snakes” and was based in Bruma. After murdering several guards as ordered by their leader, Dalen. He soon found himself rotting away in safety, the official charge was “Service to the Aldmeri Dominion against the Empire” but that was a far out of date charging… he was there because of Dalen’s Contracts, but at least he wasn’t executed, perhaps he’d enjoy manipulating the Prison, be it for sport or for survival. His only question was “How much did they pay him?” Alaskar has been holding gambling circuits and the such to grow in power for the last two years.
Name: Alaskar
Gender: Male
Race: Altmer
Height: 5ft 10in
Age: 129 (Appears around 32)
Birthsign: The Serpent
Moral Alignment: Neutral
Appearance: http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2012/092/b/7/altmer_by_milulya-d4uri9j.jpg
Personality: Intelligent, Tricky, Manipulative, and always remains a power player. He is extremely organized and cold to his enemies, can organize rather well in new environments, enjoys crime in an unhealthy amount.
Class: Crimelord
Non-Combat Skills: Extremely manipulative, and will use magic to amplify this.
Combat: Can fight with a blade rather decently, but will not be making a power play in the prison for a long time.
Magic: Moderate in Alteration, Mysticism, and Illusion (Charm Spells).
Stealth: Little to no sneaking prowess, though his silver tongue can often be used to his advantage.
Clothing/Armor: This is not applicable, though if given the opportunity he’d wear some form of noble wear. He previously wore robes adorned in shades of grey and white that hid his face. Carries one of the ebony cuffs.
Weapons/Equipment: He formerly possessed an Ebony Wakizashi. He now carries a small shiv made from various bits of wood, metal, and glass.
Miscellaneous: He formerly carried potions in a belt that would amplify his personality.
History: Alaskar was born in the Imperial City’s rundown docks; his family whilst still poor was moderately successful. However, their success was driven by crime; they were thieves and burglars, a profession that only would increase the Imperial’s hatred for his family. Eventually a riot occurred, forcing them to flee. His mother unfortunately sold herself to a pirate in exchange for Alaskar to work with them; her fate remains unknown to this day. After a sour… dispute with an Imperial Warship the Pirates soon found themselves washed up in Valenwood, Alaskar took this as his chance to get revenge for all the times they’d used him as a tool. He killed the Captain with his own blade, an Ebony Wakizashi and the others with magic. He soon went into the Employ of the Aldmeri Dominion whilst still taking odd jobs with the Empire, playing both sides and getting the advantages of each. However he quit doing jobs for government and worked with Private Contracting for a while. This group called themselves the “Twisted Snakes” and was based in Bruma. After murdering several guards as ordered by their leader, Dalen. He soon found himself rotting away in safety, the official charge was “Service to the Aldmeri Dominion against the Empire” but that was a far out of date charging… he was there because of Dalen’s Contracts, but at least he wasn’t executed, perhaps he’d enjoy manipulating the Prison, be it for sport or for survival. His only question was “How much did they pay him?” Alaskar has been holding gambling circuits and the such to grow in power for the last two years.
OldRPG'sAreGood
Antus Flaccus - Imperial Male. Prisoner. New arrival.
Spoiler
Name: Antus Flaccus (New arrival)
Race: Imperial
Gender: Male
Age: 26
Birthsign: The Thief
Appearance: Bald head and shaved chin, very muscular build, 2,2 meters of height, a disfiguring scar running from the upper left of his forehead to the lower right of his chin.
Class: Legionaire
Skills, Spells: Knows naught of magic, but handles a sword, spear and shield like a true legionaire. Due to his strength and endurance, can fare well in a fist fight, but lacking any finesse or expertise.
Personality: Loyal and obedient to his "commander"(someone he trusts and relies on), good tempered, somewhat slow on the wits
(Flaws:) Can't really act well on his own, due to his lifelong military training that made him reliant to a commanding officer. Also somewhat stupid.
History: Antus was born in the Imperial City Waterfront, lived all the way to 6 years of age in poverty, but was sent to the Legion to remove his poor family another mouth to feed. He began his training with some minor serving tasks, then moved to actual athletic training and finally to combat training. His commanding officer was like a father to him, and his fellow soldiers his brothers and sisters. The Imperial Legion was the only life Antus remembers, and it granted him a well fed childhood and set a deep lesson of being obedient and loyal beyond question.
That turned out to be, however, Antus' downfall, as he was commanded to raid a reportedly bandit camp in one of the caves on the banks of Lake Rumare with a few other soldiers. They were to kill any they find within. It turned out to be that these "bandits" were teenage boya that had dressed in leather and had a few swords and maces. When the soldiers barged in, Antus in front, a leader of a sort started shouting about how they hadn't done any bad, until Antus' sword sank into his stomach. The rest of the boys did not fight, and neither did Antus' brothers-in-arms, but Antus slaughtered the kids all the same.
Soldiers returned, and Antus faced trial for murder, as it turned out that the only crime the boys, who were sons of wealthy nobles no less, just playing warriors, had done was being suspicious looking to a passing-by-peasant. No highwaymen ship had been practised and Antus was now a murderer. He saved his life though, as his commanding officer spoke for him, pleading to prison Antus instead, backing his request with Antus' loyal service and his well known way of following orders to a letter. Antus' commanding officer also whispered to the ears of the boy nobles fathers that an execution would be too quick a penance for such crime as this. And so Antus was convicted to a life sentence and shipped away to rot in Hammerfell.
Race: Imperial
Gender: Male
Age: 26
Birthsign: The Thief
Appearance: Bald head and shaved chin, very muscular build, 2,2 meters of height, a disfiguring scar running from the upper left of his forehead to the lower right of his chin.
Class: Legionaire
Skills, Spells: Knows naught of magic, but handles a sword, spear and shield like a true legionaire. Due to his strength and endurance, can fare well in a fist fight, but lacking any finesse or expertise.
Personality: Loyal and obedient to his "commander"(someone he trusts and relies on), good tempered, somewhat slow on the wits
(Flaws:) Can't really act well on his own, due to his lifelong military training that made him reliant to a commanding officer. Also somewhat stupid.
History: Antus was born in the Imperial City Waterfront, lived all the way to 6 years of age in poverty, but was sent to the Legion to remove his poor family another mouth to feed. He began his training with some minor serving tasks, then moved to actual athletic training and finally to combat training. His commanding officer was like a father to him, and his fellow soldiers his brothers and sisters. The Imperial Legion was the only life Antus remembers, and it granted him a well fed childhood and set a deep lesson of being obedient and loyal beyond question.
That turned out to be, however, Antus' downfall, as he was commanded to raid a reportedly bandit camp in one of the caves on the banks of Lake Rumare with a few other soldiers. They were to kill any they find within. It turned out to be that these "bandits" were teenage boya that had dressed in leather and had a few swords and maces. When the soldiers barged in, Antus in front, a leader of a sort started shouting about how they hadn't done any bad, until Antus' sword sank into his stomach. The rest of the boys did not fight, and neither did Antus' brothers-in-arms, but Antus slaughtered the kids all the same.
Soldiers returned, and Antus faced trial for murder, as it turned out that the only crime the boys, who were sons of wealthy nobles no less, just playing warriors, had done was being suspicious looking to a passing-by-peasant. No highwaymen ship had been practised and Antus was now a murderer. He saved his life though, as his commanding officer spoke for him, pleading to prison Antus instead, backing his request with Antus' loyal service and his well known way of following orders to a letter. Antus' commanding officer also whispered to the ears of the boy nobles fathers that an execution would be too quick a penance for such crime as this. And so Antus was convicted to a life sentence and shipped away to rot in Hammerfell.
***
Meet the gangs:
(this is by no means the entire list, as Safety contains much more gangs than this. But this is those gangs with most detail about them so far. The rest will be written as we RP, possibly adding new gangs to the list)
"The Crimson Daggers":
Spoiler
Name: The Crimson Daggers
Age: 6 months
Skills: Stealth and secrecy are core skills that are needed to even be considered to be worthy of joining. One must also display a talent with a small blade to become a member. While not required, being skilled acrobatically is an ability that most Gang members posses. Additionally the members have no emotion or regrets when it comes to taking a life.
Weapons: The Gang primarily use weapons that are silent and deadly. Examples would be, sharpened spoons, twigs, shards of glass and any pieces of string. Occasionally a sharpened rock may be thrown but this is very rare.
Combat Style: As one might expect with such a secretive group, they prefer to work in the shadows. The element of suprise is used effectively and lethally, but when faced with direct confrontation, members prefer to flee.
Members, with possible ranks:
Sabrin Aurrus sits at the head of the gang however only one person knows this. She is an anonymous leader, preferring to control things in secrecy for safety. As such she has no real 'rank' but make no mistake she is in charge. While moving through the prison, she usually just blends in as another forgettable face to keep her identity unknown. She feels no real loyalty to the Gang, for her they are just a means to an end.
Dagger-Fingers Mini-CS:
Tulf Mini-CS:
Shadri Mini-CS:
Other members: The rest of the people in the Gang are organized by respect. Those with more kills are respected more than those with few. They wear a mixture of sack clothing and use the weapons key to the Gang (see Weapons section above). These members joined for various reasons, but none of them are truly loyal.
Guild Sign: All members mark themselves and their kills with a red dagger on the neck. This dagger is painted from the victim's blood upon the corpse. New members must mark themselves with their first victims blood before becoming full members. This strange rite of passage continues through the Guild, as every kill results in more blood being apllied to the symbol. The darker the marking, the more lives you have taken.
Gang Economy: Gang members provide for each other, as any loot gained in a killing goes into hidden crevices around Safety for members to use. Any member you takes from a hole must fill another up within three days, and if a crevice is left empty the member responsible will be expelled from the guild. However all members must give at least one piece of food and an item to Sabrin each week, via Dagger-Fingers. In return they get the safety of the Gang and use of the crevices.
Where the Gang is based: Wherever there is darkness, a member is sure to be waiting. There is no real fixed area for safety reasons, but many members seem to converge near the morgue.
How others see the gang: Being a relatively new and secret group, the Gang is relatively unheard of. However there are whisperings here and there of some unknown menace, and with the recent corpses marked with bloody daggers, suspicions are growing.
Age: 6 months
Skills: Stealth and secrecy are core skills that are needed to even be considered to be worthy of joining. One must also display a talent with a small blade to become a member. While not required, being skilled acrobatically is an ability that most Gang members posses. Additionally the members have no emotion or regrets when it comes to taking a life.
Weapons: The Gang primarily use weapons that are silent and deadly. Examples would be, sharpened spoons, twigs, shards of glass and any pieces of string. Occasionally a sharpened rock may be thrown but this is very rare.
Combat Style: As one might expect with such a secretive group, they prefer to work in the shadows. The element of suprise is used effectively and lethally, but when faced with direct confrontation, members prefer to flee.
Members, with possible ranks:
Sabrin Aurrus sits at the head of the gang however only one person knows this. She is an anonymous leader, preferring to control things in secrecy for safety. As such she has no real 'rank' but make no mistake she is in charge. While moving through the prison, she usually just blends in as another forgettable face to keep her identity unknown. She feels no real loyalty to the Gang, for her they are just a means to an end.
Dagger-Fingers Mini-CS:
Spoiler
Name: 'Dagger-Fingers'
Age: Unknown
Race: Argonian
Appearance: http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2013/010/c/a/caa6a50946c027d0b0e09148b983f56d-d4fvwgf.png
Skills: Skilled in stealth and silent killing as well as acrobatics.
Personality: Mysterious and aloft, he keeps his real identity well hidden. He is a strong believer in honour and respect, and this is displayed in his actions.
Role in the Gang: Second-in-command for the Gang, Dagger-Fingers is the only one to know Sabrin's true identity. He delivers her orders to the rest of the members, and may be called upon to take out certain targets.
Reason for Joining/Staying: He has a great respect for the Gang and all it practices, however if someone far more skilled offers him a job, he will take it.
Weapons/Equipment: Uses two sharpened spoons, and a sharp rock. Wears nothing but sack trousers.
Age: Unknown
Race: Argonian
Appearance: http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2013/010/c/a/caa6a50946c027d0b0e09148b983f56d-d4fvwgf.png
Skills: Skilled in stealth and silent killing as well as acrobatics.
Personality: Mysterious and aloft, he keeps his real identity well hidden. He is a strong believer in honour and respect, and this is displayed in his actions.
Role in the Gang: Second-in-command for the Gang, Dagger-Fingers is the only one to know Sabrin's true identity. He delivers her orders to the rest of the members, and may be called upon to take out certain targets.
Reason for Joining/Staying: He has a great respect for the Gang and all it practices, however if someone far more skilled offers him a job, he will take it.
Weapons/Equipment: Uses two sharpened spoons, and a sharp rock. Wears nothing but sack trousers.
Tulf Mini-CS:
Spoiler
Name: Tulfgur 'The Wolf'
Age: 52
Race: Nord
Appearance: http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2011/329/e/6/e64ed507af9e3c36a5f2c07541065b82-d4h8r41.jpg
Skills: Brillant tactician and a little skill in pugilism, however unlike his fellow members his sneak skills are poor and his acrobatics are non-existant.
Personality: Quiet and reserved, Tulfgur prefers to think more than most of the convicts. Wise in his years on Tamriel he has a suprisingly acute mind. Having spent many years in prison he is also has a steely resolve.
Role in the Gang: Tulfgur plans all attacks within the Gang, wether it be full scale warfare or a hit and run. Highly valued for his talent in tactics, he has also been put in charge of distibution of all items within the Gang.
Reason for Joining/Staying: Age has weakened Tulfgur, and while he may have a brillant mind his body is beginning to wither. He knows how harsh prison life is, so he took a postion in the Gang out of fear for his safety. If something threatens that safety he will leave at once.
Weapons/Equipment: Has no real weapons besides his fists. Has a small notebook stashed away which he picked up from a guard who dropped it. Unfortunately he has no way to write in it, and is offering a reward to those who can find him ink and a quill. Wears a simple cloth robe.
Age: 52
Race: Nord
Appearance: http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2011/329/e/6/e64ed507af9e3c36a5f2c07541065b82-d4h8r41.jpg
Skills: Brillant tactician and a little skill in pugilism, however unlike his fellow members his sneak skills are poor and his acrobatics are non-existant.
Personality: Quiet and reserved, Tulfgur prefers to think more than most of the convicts. Wise in his years on Tamriel he has a suprisingly acute mind. Having spent many years in prison he is also has a steely resolve.
Role in the Gang: Tulfgur plans all attacks within the Gang, wether it be full scale warfare or a hit and run. Highly valued for his talent in tactics, he has also been put in charge of distibution of all items within the Gang.
Reason for Joining/Staying: Age has weakened Tulfgur, and while he may have a brillant mind his body is beginning to wither. He knows how harsh prison life is, so he took a postion in the Gang out of fear for his safety. If something threatens that safety he will leave at once.
Weapons/Equipment: Has no real weapons besides his fists. Has a small notebook stashed away which he picked up from a guard who dropped it. Unfortunately he has no way to write in it, and is offering a reward to those who can find him ink and a quill. Wears a simple cloth robe.
Shadri Mini-CS:
Spoiler
Name: Shadri 'The Shade'
Age: 29
Race: Redguard
Appearance: http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2012/059/2/f/2f5298a64630213046d3cbb9a2b34190-d4rbatu.jpg
Skills: Skilled in alchemy and the use of daggers. Stealth skills are excellent, but acrobatics leave a lot to be desired.
Personality: Short-tempered and fierce. Can be hot-headed at times but she knows just how far to take things before backing off.
Role in the Gang: Shadri is tasked with the recruitment and training of members. When in combat she often leads the attack, ensuring orders are followed.
Reason for Jonining/Staying: Shadri joined and remains in the Gang as it is of convienence to her. If a better oppurtunity presents itself she will take it.
Weapons/Equipment: Uses a sharpened shard of glass attacked to a stick. Has a few portions of Jarrin Root, from which she is able to extract poisons for her weapon. Due to her knowledge of alchemy she can extract the toxin in small portions, allowing for more use of the Root. Wears basic sack clothing.
Age: 29
Race: Redguard
Appearance: http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2012/059/2/f/2f5298a64630213046d3cbb9a2b34190-d4rbatu.jpg
Skills: Skilled in alchemy and the use of daggers. Stealth skills are excellent, but acrobatics leave a lot to be desired.
Personality: Short-tempered and fierce. Can be hot-headed at times but she knows just how far to take things before backing off.
Role in the Gang: Shadri is tasked with the recruitment and training of members. When in combat she often leads the attack, ensuring orders are followed.
Reason for Jonining/Staying: Shadri joined and remains in the Gang as it is of convienence to her. If a better oppurtunity presents itself she will take it.
Weapons/Equipment: Uses a sharpened shard of glass attacked to a stick. Has a few portions of Jarrin Root, from which she is able to extract poisons for her weapon. Due to her knowledge of alchemy she can extract the toxin in small portions, allowing for more use of the Root. Wears basic sack clothing.
Other members: The rest of the people in the Gang are organized by respect. Those with more kills are respected more than those with few. They wear a mixture of sack clothing and use the weapons key to the Gang (see Weapons section above). These members joined for various reasons, but none of them are truly loyal.
Guild Sign: All members mark themselves and their kills with a red dagger on the neck. This dagger is painted from the victim's blood upon the corpse. New members must mark themselves with their first victims blood before becoming full members. This strange rite of passage continues through the Guild, as every kill results in more blood being apllied to the symbol. The darker the marking, the more lives you have taken.
Gang Economy: Gang members provide for each other, as any loot gained in a killing goes into hidden crevices around Safety for members to use. Any member you takes from a hole must fill another up within three days, and if a crevice is left empty the member responsible will be expelled from the guild. However all members must give at least one piece of food and an item to Sabrin each week, via Dagger-Fingers. In return they get the safety of the Gang and use of the crevices.
Where the Gang is based: Wherever there is darkness, a member is sure to be waiting. There is no real fixed area for safety reasons, but many members seem to converge near the morgue.
How others see the gang: Being a relatively new and secret group, the Gang is relatively unheard of. However there are whisperings here and there of some unknown menace, and with the recent corpses marked with bloody daggers, suspicions are growing.
***
How to post:
- Write your character's name, as well as their location, at the beginning of the post. This makes it easier to track many characters.
- Write longer posts, give details, what does your character think of different events, what do they see, smell, hear, etc.
- Put your post through a word-document to take most of the typo's away, making it easier to read.
