The room was large, the stone floor as cold and unforgiving as the world under the feet of forsaken angels. The ceiling seemed to go on forever due to its dark texture, a heavenly paradise that was never there. Holding to two together, or apart, were thick columns of stone placed in pattern all throughout the room. They seemed even more lively then the crowd of statue like Brothers who stood in a circle around their foolish victim. Unknown to them was who they had caught as prisoner, or were they actually his prisoners instead?

"Why aren't you afraid Dunmer?" The speaker taunted Serosi who was on his knees, with his hands bound behind his back. The Altmer Speaker held a rather grim looking dagger in her right hand playfully swaying it from side to side attempting to entice her prisoner into showing any sign of fear at all. "Your soul will be fed to Sithis before sun rise." As she spoke these words the group of Dark Brotherhood members though wordless seemed pleased by what the Speaker had uttered.

Serosi remained unstirred. The young Dunmer had his eyes slightly bowed and his eyes closed slowly. "A need to die." Serosi's eyes opened with the mastery of mysticism. His hands became unbound and an array of needles tied to wire sprang in all directions. His index fingers, thumbs and small fingers met end to end while his middle and ring fingers remained curled. A spell was cast sending the wire tailed needles in directions to bind the two dozen or so assassins present. They were as helpless as mortals stuck in the webs of Mephala herself. The only one skilled enough to remain unbound was the speaker herself.

"Impressive, but it seems you've immobilized yourself. You are in a hurry to die?" She spoke with a smile on her face as she looked around to see her underlings tangled in wire, pressed up against the columns of stone, their limbs twisted and their bodies short of breath. The speaker rose her blade and aimed to strike down Serosi. A feeling of extreme liquid heat splashed across her skin as she saw both of her arms flying off in different directions. Serosi had manipulated two of her assassins through the use of his wires in severing her limbs at the forearm. A pair of her fellow brothers stood beside her, swords bloodied and drawn with an expression of disbelief on their faces.

The wire had been soaked in oil, something which Serosi sought to take advantage of. Another spell was cast and a surge of fiery serpents rushed down the strings to the bodies that they had tangled. In moments everything around Serosi was on fire, the bodies of those dead, or those struggling to live used to keep the fire going. The Dunmer remained immune in part due to an enchantment. He stepped across the corpses as if they were sleeping dogs and nothing more. The Cheydinhal sanctuary lit the moonless sky with its fires as they reached up like prayers begging whatever gods or devils that would listen to avenge its destruction.




Word from the creator:

As my RP kindly hosted by fellow members (Siege of Sentinel) is slowing down a bit due to real life I've decided to indulge in a bit more lax RP based on the underworld rivalry between the Dark Brotherhood and the Morag Tong. The story line places my character Serosi as one of the main driving points of the story. This is due in part to give me ability to control the flow of the RP and to also keep me from being lazy. The RP is set a half a year to a year after the Oblivion crisis and will follow a bit of an adventure style with the two rival assassin guilds traveling in their respective groups while entering skirmishes through out their journey with each side having their own goals. The way the pace of the RP is set allows for both a lot of action but also a lot of character development. I look forward to both.

Anyone and everyone is welcome as long as they follow the rules!

Rules:

1. This is an RP in which you will more or less end up killing or be killed by someone. If you die, chin up, you will have plenty of opportunities to add in a new character as we travel. If any issues arise PM me.

2. Be creative with your characters. Make them unique. Give them a special ability. I don't mind powerful characters if they are done well. As an example my character is strong through his creativity. His best ability lies in Mysticism and a bit of illusion. The former seems a bit harmless but when used in conjunction with some basic assassin skills the above mentioned is possible. This however is NOT an excuse to be powerful for the sake of being powerful. The way I refer to power is not how hard can you hit or how much of a big spell you can make, but how smart you are. Poisoned apple anyone? Also you do not have to be a super sneaky assassin. For the Morag Tong that is a bit more expected but for the Dark Brotherhood, from what I remember when I played it they had a fully armored Orc as an "assassin" as well.

3. When fighting do NOT control other people's characters unless the other player says it is ok. You will need to ask when using spells most likley.

4. Be descriptive, write well and at length. No one wants to RP with people who drop one liners. Even though this is an "assassin RP" what I look forward to most is the interaction between the individual characters. A friendship or some level of empathy from opposite sides would be rather interesting.

5. This will probably be a "rated R" RP. Expect detailed graphic scenes of blood and yes (omg) even six. I don't like to limit my writers in any way and for an assassin anything and everything is an option. Now if you are just posting often about smashing people's heads with a club because you weren't held enough as a child and it has no relevance to your character development or you are sleeping with everyone and their mother to fullfil your online "playa playa" persona i'd kindly ask that you knock that [censored] off and see a head doctor. Aside from that I don't care.

6. Assassin's Creed was a decent game with some nice scenery. In truth assassins are probably not going to walk around in super cool ninjas outfits. Sure it worked in Oblivion standing there fully decked in a Dark Brotherhood uniform while people are acting like they aren't seeing the elephant in the room due to their indecisiveness concerning their discussion (mud crabs or...mud crabs) but I'm aiming for a bit more realism. Sure you can have the cool uniform but wearing something over it would probably be better. Keep your weapons out of sight for the most part. Spies and assassins will probably hide themselves better as farmers and drunks if amongst other people rather then the more pop image of assassins.

7. Give your characters...well character! Sure killing people for a job is a bit of a red flag maybe not all the bolts are screwed in tight but that doesn't mean you can not have character. I'd really like to see for the most part regular people and not Altair with eye liner. See if you can construct a nice image of a familia type relationship between your fellow assassins whatever side you may be on.

8. Stay active! Nothing puts a damper on an RP more then when someone doesn't post anymore especially if they were an important part of the RP. I can understand real life issues and that is not a problem. Please please please put your life ahead of RPing about elves and make belief assassins.

9. Vampires and werewolves are okay but i'm really limiting it down a lot. I don't want any for the Morag Tong, maybe maybe just maybe one vampire for the Morag Tong if you just have to. But it must have a good back story.

10. This is NOT a contest to see who can "win". It is an outlet for writing ideas out with friends on a forum. If I see it become an obsessive issue that you "win" you'll be asked to leave.

11. I'm allowing one living character per writer for right now. But that may change. I'm having three but that is more so to manage the RP and keep it running smoothly. I expect more Dark Brotherhood than Morag Tong due to the geographical situation. If you would not mind RPing either, wait a bit before we see some character sheets so we see what the balance is. 3 DB to 2 MT is a nice ratio I think.

12. Keep track of supplies. This is a journey. You aren't going to go very far in your little assassin armor and your ninja stars if you don't have basic food and water.

13. Don't be all knowing. It's dumb. Just don't do it. If your character is about to walk into an ambush and he/she truly has no idea that it is about to happen...let it happen! You'll be way more respected for it then amazingly seeing the ambush at the last second prompting a symphony of face palm slaps to echo through out the cosmos.


Character sheet format:

Name:

Race:

Gender:

Age:

Birthsign:

Physical description:

Short Bio:

Weapons:

Armor/Clothing:

Misc. Items:


Fill that out and send it to me with the PM being titled "Sanctuary Keeper (MT/DB)" MT for Morag Tong or DB for Dark Brotherhood. If you do not follow this format I will simply reply with "wrong format" and send it back. I don't mind so much if you change the character sheet format but the title since it's kind of a chore to keep track of who joins and what not. If you can't follow simple instructions I don't think you'll produce anything that anyone will want to read.


RPing the Dark Brotherhood: Your main motivation will be to hunt down Serosi. Remember the journey is the substance, not the destination. Along the way you may be asked to accomplish some other tasks. The DB will have the numerical advantage but since they are chasing, they are at a bit of a tactical disadvantage. Again please don't RP the Oblivion version of the DB where they are more or less emo kids. I prefer professionals. When picking a character race try to avoid having too many Dunmer as the MT will be mostly just that. I want to keep a bit of diversity. I don't mind Dunmer DB but i don't want them to be 75 percent of the population. Of course any MT caught along the way are fair game.

RPing the Morag Tong: Your goal is slightly different. The Morag Tong is not all that pleased with what Serosi just did. It was unauthorized and a bit tactless for some of the MT's taste. You are to escort Serosi back to Mournhold dead or alive. Serosi is a bit infamous amongst some of the Morag Tong as an "upstart. Some Morag Tong might like him, others might just look for an excuse to kill him. Some may even work with the DB to kill him. Depends on how you want to play it. In any case the MT goal is a bit more of avoidance and sneakiness then out right targeting anyone.

RPing tips for assassins in general: Blend in. The Morag Tong is illegal outside of Morrowind and the Dark Brotherhood is illegal everywhere. The law is NOT your friend and they will be more then happy to show you how much not your friend they are. You can bait the law into the enemy camp and then all manners of interesting can conclude from that. Just writing this I came up with an idea that if anyone wants to RP a 3rd party of being "the law" I would be delighted to discuss the goals and obligations of such a task.

I could be the law enforcement if you want, although I would rather play an assasin ( dunno which side though)

Name: Oglind

Race: Dunmer

Gender: Male

Age: 33

Birthsign: The Serpent

Physical description: 5'10, 138 Pounds. Oglind is a rather unimposing figure with a thin body and a rather welcoming face, nothing truley remarkable of a feature. His hair is dark and kept fairly short. His mouth has a rather upward curl about it matched by his eyes giving him an inquisitive look about his rather meek face. In his homeland of Vvardenfell he would easily be mistaken for an instect herder and for good reason.

Short Bio: As the 15th son of his father's 7th wife Oglind did not seem to have too much of a far reaching future in position within the upper echelon of family Telvanni position. While his brothers and sisters expressed an extreme distrust of one another, the more laid back Oglind left and became an insect herder. While he herded he collected books and became a bit of a scholar learning history and philosophy. Through his travels he learned to be rather light of foot and quick with a weapon. When the ash storms became too serious one year killing most of his herd, he sold the remnants and opted to use his skills within the Morag Tong. There his professionalism in whatever he did was noticed and his aloof attitude fit him in quite well with his new found family. His infiltration abilities have been noted to be among the best in Vvardenfell.

Weapons:

Herdsman bonemold staff

Chitin Short Blade

Assortment of throwing weapons

Armor/Clothing: He wears a pair of light greyish wide pants with a wide sleeved tunic of similar texture. His shoes are as plain as his clothes. As for armor he wears a few straps of netch leather around his forearms. The outfit is complete with a brown scarf used for ashlander travel, usually worn loosely inside.

Misc. Items:

A map of Cyrodiil hidden in a cook book.

45 gold coins


=======================================


Name: Parthia

Race: Bosmer

Gender: Female

Age: 22

Birthsign: The Steed

Physical description: 5'8, 110 Pounds, Parthia is an elegant presence with deep green eyes surrounded by dark auburn hair that is tied together close to the end reaching down to her bottom. She has a light frame covered in seemingly flawless skin of light olive complexion. Her cheek bones are softly pronounced, her brows elegant and quite capable of being expressionate. Her nose is as well elegant with a slight dip in the bridge. Her mouth is all together very kissable and when in conversation is in contest with her serene eyes as to where the focus of attention is. Her over all appearence is curvy though not extravagant more so youthful then an exageration.

Short Bio: Parthia grew up without a mother in her early years and was enrolled in the study of restoration and alteration at an early age. Her determination in the healing arts grew even more when her father died infront of her eyes due to wounds caused by Khajiit bandits at the age of 17. She wasn't able to save him with her abilities but did do something else. She hunted down each of the six bandits killing each one. Impressed so much by her determination and ability the Dark Brotherhood offered her a job. She left behind her home and continued her studies in the Mages Guild while paying her tuition through the jobs within the Dark Brotherhood. She looks at the whole ordeal in a rather practical manner caring little for the few religious zealouts in the guild. She is but a recent transfer to the Cheydinhal Sanctuary but has already earned her place of respect due to one of her unique abilities.

Weapons:

Elven recurve bow along with arrows

Elven short sword

An assortment of needles and throwing knives

Armor/Clothing:

Dark Brotherhood Shroud Armor that she rarely if ever wears. She prefers a dark burgandy robe of thin light weight material enchanted to protect her. The black sash around her waist like wise is enchanted for arcane purposes. Her light steps are covered in comfortable and flexible sandals.

Misc. Items:

Alchemical kit for potions and poisons.

Name: Velandris

Race:Bosmer (woodelf)

Age:35 (still young in elf years)

Birthsign:Theif

Physical description: Velandris is a small typical Bosmer. His eyes are narrow and his hair natural hung and grown halfway down his neck. He has a fair muscle structure but he doesn't relly on physicle strength.

Short Bio: Velandris Was a gifted young Bosmer. His weapon skills exceeded all his predesecors. His skill with a bow was most exellent by Woodelf standards. He had joined a small group of scouts for valenwood and was set up. Given the wrong orders He had killed an Imperial captain stationed at a local Imperial outpost. Caught in the act Velandris was forced to avoid imperial soldiers and patrols. Soon he was Visited by a DarkbrotherHood listener who gave him a proposal he couldn't refuse. With the blood of one of his close friends he was eccepted into the dark family of Sithis.

Weapons: Glass bow, 27 silver arrows, two elven daggers.

Armor/Clothing: Custom made Black leather armor(just like the regular leather armor just black)/ Wears a brown cloak with hood over armor and weapons/ Golden ring giving him night eye

Misc. Items: Simple alchemy kit for making poisons(mortaal and pedstal)/A small bag of Nightshade and Bonemeal, flask of water (refillable at springs)

can i still join?

I thought we were pm'ing the characters..

Name: Drynos Dramorae

Race: Dunmer

Age: 25

Birthsign: The Steed

Physical description:
5'11, light green skin, crimson eyes, medium built.

Short Bio:
Drynos grew up in Cheydinhal. He came from a respectful family of Dunmers who were all high ranking warriors in the Cheydinhal Fighters guild. His father was trying to persuade him to follow suit with the family tradition. But Drynos did not agree with the Fighters Guild rules and regulations. He did not see the point in killing for the good of humanity. His Dad got angry one night and threatened him until Drynos grabbed the closest knife and thrust it into his father's skull. A loud crunch and a squelch or crimson liquid emerged from the skull of his father and Drynos fled from Cheydinhal and grabbing the nearest Chestnut he rode on to Bravil. Where he was approached one night by a Dark Brother Speaker and asked to join. He obliged and was taken in by the brotherhood. He is known as a happy, gullable nice guy during the hours of light. But when darkness envelops Tamriel he is bone-idle and loyal to his new family.

Weapons:
Concealed glass longsword.

Armor/Clothing:
He wears usual dungerees and shoes. but underneath his Dark Brotherhood leather armour is ready to be revealed.

Misc. Items
He usually has a bottle of the Finest Surulie Brother's Wine in his dungeree pocket.

Name: Ra'virr (Just Ra to most Morag Tong members)
Race: Khajiit
Gender: Male
Age: 59

Birthsign: The Warrior

Physical description: Ra'vir has spent much of his life training and keeping fit, so despite his age she is still fairly fit. Though he is built like the average Khajiit male, he often appears bent, guant, and gnarled. Though hard years (and a hard living style) have aged his appearance enough that he looks older than he should, the first mistake many make is his disguise of frailty. He has naturally kind, soft blue eyes, that are only brought out further by his white fur with grey spots. He makes sure that he has no long hair on his head and that it is even with the rest of the fur on his body.

Short Bio: A very energetic and acrobatic child, Ro'Virr, or Ro as members of the Morag Tong call him, seemed naturally suited for the fighting style he would choose. He joined the Fighters Guild at a young age taking oppurtunity of their facilities and trainers. Though he was often scoffed at in the Guild becuase he refused to use weapons, preferring his natural claws and hands to any man-made weapon. It wasn't long before he was skilled even beyond his trainers and eventually began being bothered by younger members for training. A person can't learn when they have no concentration to do so, so he moved away from the cities and left the Guild. Many years he stayed out on his own, living simply on the bounty of the wilderness, and becoming very skilled in combat while doing so. When he finally did come back to civilization it wasn't long before he approached the Morag Tong. His service to the Morag Tong granted him freedom, privacy, and a deep fellowship with its' members which he felt closer to than his own family. More than he ever had with the Fighters Guild. In his later years he became well known in the Morag Tong as a trainer in the arts of Hand-To-Hand as well as being a very loyal member. Though he would only teach someone if they had the natural agility, acrobatics, and speed to follow his training style. In the last few years (ten to be exact) he has stopped his open training to any members of the Morag Tong and instead has taken on an apprentice, who is also a member obviously.

Weapons: While they are not exactly weapons he does wear a pair of very faded, open-fingered, black leather gloves. They are enchanted so that the wearer has enhanced speed and dexterity with their hands. For a normal person it may not do too much, but for someone who is very skilled at hand-to-hand combat, like Ra'virr, they can make the wearer more deadly than usual.

Armor/Clothing: He doesn't wear armor. Normally he wears over-sized, ragged, clothing that looks like it was found in the sewers. When he is officially working for the Morag Tong he wears skin-tight, black, clothing.

Misc. Items: A quill, some dirty paper, enough gold to buy him several bottles of booze, as well as a little moonsugar.

Name: Maguire

Race: Breton

Gender: Male

Age: 32

Birthsign: The Serpent

Physical description: Leech-like , a serpent . Maguire looks dodgy to say the least . His ears stick out of the sides of his head in a queer fashion like large discs . His eyes are small and ratty , and his nose is pinched up in an ugly fashion . His cheeks are hollow and cacked in curly , unclean stubble . His teeth are stained yellow from pipe smoke , and he always seems to have a trickle of drool coming out from his thin and cracked lips . He has a small but unsightly bulbous red tumour on the upper left side of his head , making him look almost dead . Despite his ugliness , he is rather muscular and a strong fighter .

Short Bio: An Immigrant , Maguire grew up in the slums of the waterfront district , starting his criminal career off with petty thievery and murder . A despised low life , he realised he was good at what he did and sought to take up murder as a profession , so when a spice ship from morrowind arrived in port , he snuck onboard and stowed away on the lower deck . When the ship arrived in ebonheart , maguire sought several knowledge-filled people , often beating them to find out the whereabouts of the Morag Tong's headquarters . His ruthless yet cunning technique eventually lured him to the underworks HQ in vivec , where he promptly signed on and gained through the ranks quickly . The Tong see him as a filthy and unpleasant man , who is both ruthless and careless in his method and spends to much time either drunk or in a night house . Still , they cope with him because of his killing prowess .

Weapons:

Maguire has but three weapons . One is a hulking and massive crossbow that resembles more of a personal hand-cannon then anything . Its a beast of a weapon which means it cannot be concealed and he must carry it around on his back . It is made of dull steel and fires massive bolts that could easily splinter doors . Its deadliness is countered by its low fire rate , and its heaviness , meaning Maguire cannot keep it aimed for long before his arms get tired . Ammunition for the weapon has to be custom made by a blacksmith owing to its massive size , so he cannot simply buy some from vendors , rather wait it out for the Tong blacksmith to craft some new ones .

He also carry's around a plain glass dagger , stuck in his boot .

The third is a thick length of steel chain with black leather grips at each side . A beastly garrotte . He keeps it tucked in his waistcoat .

Armor/Clothing: Harlen wears a grubby white shirt with a stained old grey cravat ( think a scarf mixed with a tie ) . Over his white shirt he wears a faded brown waistcoat and black leather suspenders . The waistcoat shows signs of once being a fine piece of craftsmanship , with gold buttons and faded silk trimmings . He also wears plain tan linens and knee-high black riding boots . Over all this he wears a black cotton cloak with a hood he can pull over his eyes . He also wears black leather gloves .

Misc. Items: he carries around a pouch of septims and a old iron canteen of scotch . He also wears a leather belt that holds his few massive crossbow bolts .

OOC: I think we can begin. The manner in which the RP will be moved along in certain areas will be a "quest message" much like in the games. They are optional of course.

IC:

Dark Brotherhood: Investigate the burned out ruins of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary. The inside seems mostly burned out and the fire has not spread to the abandoned mansion above due to the slight rain falling.

Morag Tong: Check the Inns and Bars for any location Serosi may be. If you must work in small groups but do not attract attention to yourselves.

=============


Midnight had passed for almost three watches now and the rain had seemed to have fallen asleep too as most of the people of Cheydinhal. The guards were out on patrol in their generally unenthusiastic spirit. All except the guards and the small crowd of mostly travelers unsettled in a place to stay for tonight surrounding the smoke breathing abandoned house, unknown to them as the cover of the Dark Brotherhood sanctuary.

"Stay back if you get any closer i'll throw you in jail myself!" The guard roared shoving back an unlooker that had gotten a bit too curious.

"What happened? Who did this? Did lightning strike the house?" Was the assortment of questions echoed through the small crowd.

"Probably some damn kids were playing with fire. Go to your beds, go get drunk, go [censored] I don't much give a damn but get out of here already!" The annoyed guard shoved another onlooker as his comrades worked on trying to open the boarded up door. Parthia looked through the crowd, her unforgivable appearence and natural beauty hidden by an all too forgetable ensamble of a plain brown robe with a cloak covering her head. She looked like a rather thin archer with her bow on her back and her quiver tied around her waist. The baggy robe and her bowed head gave her an all together sixless appearence, forgetable and best of all mostly un-noticible.

Velandris had just entered the city threw the eastern gate and was in suprise to see the Santuaries house smoking. He walked tward the crowd of curious citizens was able to shove his way into the mob. He looked the house over and then at the Well behind it. More smoke was ventign out and the small shimmer of light from the fires underneath could be seen. Who would be so bold to attack the Brotherhood like this? He asked in his head but considered the posibility of an accident. "What happened here?" He asked out loud hopeing for an answer. He wanted to move Closer to the house, In particular the well to try and see what really hapened in there. That and His Traveling robe was getting soaked after being in the rain for a few hours. Water was already slipping down his face as the top of his hood had taken in the most water.

OOC: By the way I edited in another character sheet.

IC:


"Some kids playing with fire they think."

Was a reply from a voice unknown. Parthia recognized the Bosmer that had asked the question but decided not to interact with him. If this was an attack it was possible that it was an attempt to draw them out. Were there still brothers inside harmed? Did others make it out? She wasn't sure, the frustration not knowing was getting to her a bit as she nibbled her lip unconsciously. She had been at the Mages Guild studying in the library when she heard what had happened. She wasn't sure who's robe she had 'borrowed' but it was large enough to hide her blades while the smaller tools had been left behind in her room at the Mages Guild dormitory. A fire would attract the guard and being found with such weapons would not be a good idea. A sword and a bow was more common for someone traveling.

A gasp amongst the crowd was expressed as a plum of smoke rose into the sky from inside the fountain. The secret entrance! Parthia now had to think fast. There had to be a way in which she could get the crowd to disperse and the guards to leave. Inside the sanctuary were papers to the other sanctuaries throughout all of Cyrodiil. It had names of employers and victims, agreements, officials bribed. If the fire had not destroyed everything the guards would get to it sooner or later.

Darus exited the tavern to find the smell of smoke filling the air. He heard a clamor on the other side of Cheydinhal. He walked over to a crowd of onlookers. Finally Darus averted his eyes to the smoking sanctuary. Taken by surprise Darus began thinking of possible causes. Accident, no. Accidents never happen at a sanctuary. It's always orderly and quiet. Maybe it was arson. We haven't payed a visit to the count lately. Maybe he got a guard to go and burn it, for a special incentive. Darus thought. His thoughts were interrupted by a guard that was shouting and pushing. How typical, when a guard isn't in control they resort to shoving and yelling. Darus thought, disgusted by the man. He was even more disgusted by his cold, wet hood. Darus slid through the crowd weaving between people like a needle through cloth. At the front of the crowd the guard was distracted while trying to control the crowd. If there were any time to slip in through the well, it would be now.

Kids? He didn't beleive that. Kids playing with fire would have scorched the House wich hid the Sanctuary door, not Make it burn from the Sanctuary itself. No he had to get in there. He everted his eyes to the guard who seemed to be distracted by curious on lookers. Now was his chance to slip inside. He left the crowd heading back twards the eastern gate and took a turn to go threw the back ally liek way behind the houses. When he got close to the well he crouched and snuck to the entrance. The guard was still worreing on the crowd and so Velandris lifted the grateing of the well and slowly attached himself to the ladder leading down. He closed the grateing slowly so to not make any attention to the well and slid down the ladder.

The place was filled of smoke mainly as the entry lobby' fires were dieing out. He looked around and considered maybe the sanctuary was being cleansed. But he had never heard of thi method of cleansing and it would be foolish to loose a santuary. No this was an attack. He walked to the center of the room where the fires stopped burning and tried to find some clues.orpses or anything really.

Name: Acheron
Nickname: Acheron the Only
Race: Nord
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Birthsign: The Atronach

Skills: Blades (Light weight and sometimes short blades are of his favoring; katanas are his specialty), Woodwork, Smithing, Stealth
Class: Dark Brotherhood Assassin

General appearance: Acheron is a tall Nord, standing at 6'5" tall and weighing around 190-200 pounds. He is lean and muscular, though not too much that he would intimidate anyone.
Hair: A ponytail that reaches to his shoulder blades and is a golden blonde color. It is clean and kept fresh at all times and is hardly ever seen without it being in a ponytail.
Eye Colour: Bright Emerald Green
Height: 6'5"
Tattoos/Scars: A tattoo of a rendering of Sithis on his left bicep, to symbolize his loyalty to the Dark Brotherhood. His right eye is rendered useless due to a nasty, crooked scar running through it.

Armor/Clothing: He wears a long black trench coat that barely touches the ground, which covers a sleeveless suit of tight black leather armor. His boots are padded to help keep his movement quiet.

Primary weapon: A silver katana made by himself. It has a blood red hilt and an ivory scabbard. He holds it in his left hand and is strapped to his back
Secondary Weapon: Another silver weapon made by himself, a shortsword with the same color scheme and scabbard as his katana. It is hidden within his trench coat and hangs on his right hip.


Inventory: A map of Tamriel spattered with blood, a small bit of Flin, and his forging hammer and tongs; along with some schematics of his swords.

Bio: Acheron was born into the Dark Brotherhood, or so he is told. A speaker once told him that he was left in front of one of the Dark Brotherhood sanctuaries as a baby. They didn't wish to ignore him and leave him for dead so they took him and trained him in the ways of the assassin. When he was a boy of sixteen years, he completed his first contract and has been killing ever since.

He has grown up and is now a well respected member of the Dark Brotherhood. He is a Silencer for one of the Speakers of the Dark Brotherhood, as he is efficient and remorseless.

Cheydinhal

Licking his fingers , Maguire grubbily and hastily tore his way through hiis steak , tearing at it with his rat-like teeth like some feral beast . He sat at the polished table by the window of the Inn , looking out across the way at the smoke rising from the abandoned building .

He had been travelling for some time , and was hungry , the mission could wait a while .

"Hmm..." He muttered as he licked the grease off his lips before tossing back the salad and eating it all in one gulp . Flecks of lettuce and crumbs littered the table as the inkeep looked onwards with a expression of distaste . Maguire looked back with a smile and let out a rancid burp before popping the crystal top off the bottle of sherry and guzzling it like it was the first drink he had had after spending day's in a desert .

He let out a sigh , signifying he was full , and leant back on his chair , patting his stomach . "Better get this one started then" he said , getting up from his seat .

The innkeep asked for payment for the meal . "Yes yes , about that.....errr....could we talk , say , in your office?" he asked slyly as a plan cooked within his brain .

OOC : I guess Immortalblood decides what the inkeep does or do I get to control the events that unfold?

Ticedo awoke with a start, the pungent aroma of smoke hurt his nose and he rolled from his bed, fire what... He was still groggy with sleep and gave a quick glance out the window towards where a pillar of smoke was drifting into the air. He recognized the location and with a startled gasp and through his cloak over himself, grabbed his cane from beside his better and ran from the inn where he was staying, his target would have to wait as the smoldering ruins of the sanctuary took required his attention. He ran down the street as quickly as he could pushing his way through the crowd of people until he found himself standing behind a brown cloaked figure wearing a hood.
He tapped them on the shoulder and leaning as close as he could whispered,
"What colour is night" the same words needed to enter the sanctuary, any member of the brotherhood would know the answer, any bystander would simply think he was crazy.

Maguire was about to proceed to repeatedly slam the innkeeper's head into her own desk and ask for information when he saw a man simply running out of the inn . He seemed in a rush , and somewhat worried . "[censored]" He cursed under his breath , his hand half inside his cloak , ready to take out his garrote and choke the innkeep .

Instead he reached into his pockets , withdrew five septims , and slammed them on the desk . "thanks for the meal" he said dryly before walking out of the inn and a reasonably fast pace .

The fresh evening air was choked with thick , pungent smoke as Maguire followed the man at a distance , his shoulders bent and his head hunched over like a scurrying rat . His behemoth of a crossbow sat loosely strapped to his back as the giant crossbow bolts clinked and clanked , clipped onto his belt under his massive great cloak .

The seemingly wounded Imperial had stopped , and seemed to be whispering something in a mans ear . Maguire thought it best to keep his distance , quickly scrambling backwards and pressing his back to a wall . A local black horse courier paper drifted across the cobbled street , dirty and old .

maguire grabbed it and pretended to read it , using it as a ruse for anyone who thought he looked conspicuous , occassionally peering around the corner of the building to see what the man was doing . Was he onto something? or maybe he had leapt without thinking and was following a false lead?

The man looked old and beaten , maybe he was slightly retarded? maguire hoped not , as he was looking forward to beating that inkeep around the head for answers.....

Oh, by Sithis! Acheron walked quickly towards the Cheydinhal sanctuary, as the thick smoke lurched and lingered in the air. His coat whipped along the cobble stoned ground as he stopped abruptly behind the crowd. Acheron looked around, recognizing none of the bystanders as members of the Brotherhood.

Acheron moved closer to the well, seeing that the guards were distracted with the crowd. He turned as sharp corner and stood behind the house that rested next to the sanctuary. They will come to me. Acheron thought as he pulled his silver shortsword from his sheath and inspected its engravings; it had an Ayleid inscription on it, it was Acheron's name in Ayleidoon lettering.

(OOC: My character is approved by Immortal Blood)
Minegoth turned his head slightly torwards the statement rasped into his ear. "Sanguin, my brother" He slowly turned around to face the man, who he found to be an old imperial. Minegoth noticed the man favoring one leg over another. He kept the cloak hood over his light brown, wind braided hair. "I see there are other Children of the Night Mother here besides myself. Any progress, my brother?" He had gotten his orders and headed straight to the place. He was the first one there, and had not began his search until others had arrived. He sat, predicting the life time of passers by. He was hidden enough so that he was invisible from the road. In a fit of narcisistic boredom, he walked over to a half-buried mirror and checked his reflection. He was handsome. Enough to attract any woman he pleased. Not that he had any other than one night stands. The women were dead before he left the next morning. After all, you couldn't be as crazy as Minegoth and not get something good in return. He was also quite intelligent. It was because of this he didn't let his guard down for a second over a cripple. If the cripple made one false move, he would shamelessly kill him....

Velandris checked the pillars of the loby to find very curious lines and spots where bodies had hung. It was as if Someone came in here and used wire to wrap some Dark Brotherhood to the pillars and somehow burn the place to oblivion. He crouched and looked at the ashy floor and swepts his hand across the marbel stone. There were no Signs of Struggle. He stood up and looked back on the pillar checking the burnt wires. They were unusual, in their own pattern they seemed to form some sort of net that was propelled. "Who uses nets like these? Anyone in there right mind that would soemhow gain entry into a sanctuary wouldn't possibly attack like this with a number of assassins about him or her." He pondered again for a few seconds. It wouldn't be possible to come in here unless you were captured. But then If a group of people were to gain a Sanctuary key for the well, which was very unlikely, they could attack. He thought. All this happening and just tryign to come up with an answer made his head ache.

Of course the thick smoke didn't help matters. The up side to everything to him was that his Travel robes were nice and dry. But He couldn't stand the smoke any longer. He was begining to caugh and his eyes started to sting. Soon he headed back to the ladder and climbed back up to the surface, slowly openign the grateing and climbing over the well itself and closign the Grateing again. He looked outward towards the street. The guard was paying no attentio nand so Velandris walked straight ahead unoticed back into the street an leand against the wall of the house across from the abandoned house.

OOC: RP your own NPCs just be realistic.

IC:


Cheydinhal
Newlands Lodge

Oglind chased the few peas left on his plate with his fork as he considered his options. Finding Serosi would be difficult indeed, especially now with all the heretics running about. He had never seen Serosi and knew nothing other than that he was like himself a Dunmer. He didn't really mind the Cheydinhal Sanctuary being burned but it would bring problems back at home. The Dark brotherhood had quite a bit of advantage from His Royalty, Hlaalu Helseth if half the rumors were true. There was a basic unspoken understanding of how the squabbles would be handled and although the heretics often pushed the line, they had never gone as far as the Morag Tong...or better to say as far as Serosi did. How to find an assassin amongst a city of assassins running about looking for the same guy.

"What's with you?" The rather unimposing face of the publican spoke as she turned around from tending to some things behind the bar.

"Just troubles back at home." Oglind smiled a slight smile and placed his food filled fork in his mouth. He had a rather unimposing appearence about himself too. He just seemed like a very easy going guy would be better adept at staring at clouds than doing any sort of killing.

"Wife kick you out?" Dervera fingered her hair with her right hand tangling her index finger a bit longer then she had meant to. She was a nosey type and only asked the question to see if Oglind had a wife at all.

"No, not that much trouble. I don't know anybody, like that. I'm just searching for someone." And another scoop of food arrived at his mouth. He rather enjoyed her cooking though it had a bit of an imperiaized twist to it he was unready for when he first began eating. He didn't mind, hunger was the best spice.

"A special someone?" Dervera winked playfully and leaned forward. Oglind would have to be blind or lying if he had not noticed how she filled out the western styled dress. Was she flirting with him? It was all together possible. He knew what his face looked like, at least most of the time and he didn't think he was all that attractive. Maybe it was his nature, or at least the nature she had encountered right now.

"You could say that he's special." He nodded his head and continued to smile as he chewed. The look on Dervera's face changed as she stood up. She seemed taken aback and confused.

"He?" Her face was no longer as nice as before. Not angry, but rather put off. It put Oglind in thought and then realized what the confusion was about.

"Oh n-no no not like that! I'm a bit of like a bounty hunter." Oglind's face turned a bit red at the misunderstanding. Dervera laughed and Oglind joined in more out of being nervous then finding it all that funny.

"Hey... Get up!" A voice echoed throughout the blackness. Slowly the noises and sounds filled the air, then a sharp pain in his side, he had been kicked! "Get up you filthy old skooma-svcker, you're blocking my door!" Another sharp pain and Ra'virr slowly began to stir. His clothing was damp, stunk of alcohol, and when he moved several bottles fell off of his lap and clinked across the ground. Slowly he raised his head up to the Imperial with a red face.

"Pity an old cat, sir... Spare a few coins?" The Khajiit pleaded, holding two humble hands out to ask for money.
"Yeah, right." The Imperial grabbed Ra by his shoulder and jerked him out of the doorway, then quickly stepped inside.
"Well... guess not." Ra chuckled and achingly got to his feet.

He gave a quick glance around to see that smoke had filled the air. Ra has been sleeping longer than he thought he thought as he straightened his back, his bones popping as he did so. In a very weak fashion, as if he were about to fall over any second from either old age or being drunk, he began making his way across town to the place where he knew an inn to be; Newlands Lodge. Serosi was going to be in a lot of trouble for this, but that wasn't the main concern now. Right now Serosi needed to be taken out of Cyrodiil. As he entered the inn he leaned against the wall in a sloppy manner and began glancing around for both Serosi and other Morag Tong members.

OOC: Sorry it's so weak, mind is kinda blank.