Shadows of Fate

On Mondas 22nd of Suns’ Dusk the year 3E 430 Neravar set off with his Expedition to Akavir, a fleet of no more than 20 ships in total. During that time the Tamriel changed in many ways. During that time he was gone heroes rose and fell like the sun across the land as it always did, laws and times changed. Neravar returned with a fleet of 22 vessels. Some were damaged and had been repaired others were of a different design seen in Tamriel.the fleet arrived in Necrom, where the men and their...new acquisitions were welcomed back to the known lands of Tamriel. They brought back new foods, treasures and all sorts from Akavir including two Po’tun Slaves.

Many months later after the hype of the return of Neravar he seemed to disappear from public view. Slowly over time people started talking of strange things being seen at Red Mountain by pilgrims who visit the ghost gate and the shrine built there to commemorate the defeat of Dagoth Ur.

It has been a decade since Neravars’ return and things have started to change drastically. He has taken control of great house Hlaalu, while not a surprise to anyone for the most part something has been seen as a little off in methods. Funds being funnelled from the houses treasury to unknown parties, that sort of thing, but it seems the expeditionary force that returned brought with it, its own haunts. One late night the town of Necrom has been attacked by unknown adversaries. This is where we start...


OK rules are simple

1 No character control
2 Romance is good but… you know nothing graphic
3 PM characters to me first please and provide detailed sheets
4 Please use common sense
5 Sub-plots are fine as long as they don’t alter the main story line
6 Vurry important, Have fun!


My Character:
Name: Kazzari
Age: 22
Race: Ka’Po Tun/Khajiit Hybrid
Gender: Male
Birthsign: Serpant
Class: Ranger
Skills: Long Blade, Medium Armour, Hand to hand, Alchemy, Restoration, Sneak Acrobatics, Athletics and Pathfinding.

Appearance:
Height: 6ft 4in
Weight: 102 Kg
Build: Kazzari holds a rather athletic build well suited for his particular profession.
Eye colour: Ice Blue
Fur colour: Light tan with pale stripes running through it.

Equipment:
Armour: Currently he wears dark leather with metal plates inserted at particular locations across the armour. Green cloak fitted to it with a hood.
Clothing: Black long pants and dark green forester’s shirt, emerald amulet and a gold ring.
Weapons: Silver Akaviri katana enchanted with moderate frost damage, Steel longbow, steel arrows
Personality: Kazz is a bit of a double edged blade, he can be very likeable and generally is easy to get along with. While in turn he also holds a nasty temper when angered or taunted.

Bio: Kazzari was born on one of the ships that left from Akavir on the return trip. He was raised for the most part on the vessels until they reached the city of Necrom and landed. After that kazz, his mother and now escaped father travelled for a bit staying at many small villages where kazzari was taught the ways of living off the land. He was taught how to fight and stay alive as well as treat his own injuries. His parents finally settled down in old Ebonheart using their skills to train people and make a living. He moved out when he was 20 and has for the most part lived off the land with a small house in Old Ebonheart and Necrom.

Mordereth walked the streets of Necrom. He'd heard the stories. The Akavair slaves, the two new ships. It had been ten years since all of that happened. Now, stories grew of trouble brewing at Red Mountain. Word about him siphoning money from house Hlaalu's coffers. Not that he so much as gave a damn about the house.

The question to him was, where was that gold going? And, even more pertinent, how could he get his hands on some? He tried to think of what other organizations the Neverar could be a part of or would have reason to help. Or was it more than that? Was it someone being payed for a service? If so, he'd very much like to know what that service was.

Excellent, time to begin.

Name: Belrar
Age: 37
Race: Dunmer
Gender: Male
Sign: The Lord

Class: Merchant
Abilities: Personality and Luck
Skills: Speechcraft, Mercantile, Armorer, and Cleaning

Height: 5' 9''
Weight: 140 lbs
Build: Average; not used to physical activity
Eye Color: Red
Hair: Light Grey Mane

Armor: None
Clothing: Middle Class Clothing, mostly reds and the occasional purple garment. Most of which he brought with him from Vivec.
Weapons: A Repair Hammer
Miscellaneous: A few gold pieces, the key to his home and his workplace, and four saltrices

Spells: Ancestor ghost

Mental: He often thinks himself more important than he is, insisting his great grandfather on his mother's side was once an Ordinator. He frequently suffers from depression, after realizing how insignificant he really is. Whenever he is not feeling sorry for himself, however, he can be quite snobbish.

History: Grew up in Vivec, raised by his merchant father. His mother passed away giving birth to his sister, who died a few weeks after. Moved to Necrom after being promised a job there as the owner of a pawn shop. After arriving, he found out the position had been filled, and he did not have enough money to get home. He then got a position under a local armor merchant as an assistant, and has been just barely making it by ever since.

IC: Belrar locked the door to the "Steal of a Deal Steel" and looked around to the empty streets of the Necrom merchant district. He walked away from his workplace, wiping soot off his favorite purple shirt. 'Honestly, if we were re-molding greaves today, the least he could have done would be to have warned me yesterday.'

The Dunmer sighed, turning the corner onto his street. He nodded to the nearby guard, Iryan, who always patrolled by his house every night.

"Tough day?" Iryan asked.

"Nothing more than usual, my friend." Belrar stopped at the corner in front of Iryan, letting the Hlaalu guard come to him. Belrar recalled how tough it was for Iryan to switch from House Indoril, his family had disowned him and his official gaurd uniform was taken. As a result he wore the old and ragged Hlaalu armor Belrar saw him in now.

"Another day another septim, eh? When you thinkin' 'bout changing careers? You know that old codger Gilur's never gonna give you a raise or nothin'." Iryan was never the most cultured elf, but Belrar found he was more than friendly. Despite what his father would probably say, he enjoyed talking to him.

"You're probably right, but I can't think of doing anything other than selling goods. My father was a merchant, and his father, and so on, all the way up to my oldest ancestors. We're a merchant family, and an independant one."

"Well, okay, Bel. But don't go around telling people how your family dislikes the Houses. Nowadays with Lord Nerevarine leading Hlaalu, I'm pretty sure things will only get worse for their enemies."

"Enemy of Hlaalu? Me? You know the only person I've ever even told that to is you. Everyone else thinks I'm just like them, right under the Nerevarine's thumb." Belrar never did like the Houses, particularly Hlaalu. And his family had always been merchants seperate from them, and devoted followers of the Temple. That had been one reason Belrar even agreed to that job here. Before the Nerevarine, Necrom had been one of the religious capitals of Morrowind. Now it was mostly a port town, filled with distraught merchants, poor citizens, and fat nobles.

"Just be careful. Stay safe, Bel."

"Goodnight, Iryan." Belrar walked away from the guard, leaving him to finish his rounds as he approached his house. It wasn't much to look at, a large twenty room building that he shared with a good thirty other people. Cheap though, and it looked like it. Belrar's last thought before sleep was that the beds here were about as nice as the current state of Morrowind.

OOC: Sorry, long post to start off. Hope you don't mind how I pictured Necrom, I can change it if you had any plans or the like. Thanks again, this should be fun

ooc: Pretty good :3 I dun mind. Was gonna do something along those lines myself

ic: Necrom was a large town, picturesque in design with the unique flavor of dunmeri architecture, ever since Neravars return a decade ago the large city prospered even more, Nobles grew fatter in currency from the unique items brought back from Akavir, the whole city grew just that bit larger over the years, a statue erected in the city in his honor stood right in the middle of the main town square made of marble. The nights were filled with the sweet scent of ocean air as the cool winds blew up from the sea. Off in the distance along the coast a small fleet hidden in the darkness they silently floated along entering the bay staying a few hundred metres out to sea. Small boats began to land along the bay just outside of the city, their contents, soldiers slowly began to creep into the city itself. Slaying the guards in the watch towers silently like a Knife in the dark.

Kazzari had been sitting on the top of his home on the balcony. The fires of the city lights and guard glowed beautifully in the near darkness. The greatest artists of the land wouldn't be able to capture the moment that was being generated by this. Kazz climbed down the ladder that lead to his balcony and hit the street level, streatching and yawning from the lack of sleep that he had. The guard patrolled his street constantly, always two in each patrol ever since the recent thieves guild activity. Off in the distance where the small fleet of ships had pulled in, the sky seemed to light up with great balls of orange light began to rain down onto the city. The large solid balls of firey stone and metal crashed into buildings and in that instant what appeared to be soldiers poured into the city from the coast slaughtering the stunned guard and citizens.

Character Sheet
Name: Jimri
Nickname:
Age: 45 (appears in her early 20s)
Race: bosmer
Gender: female
Birthsign: the thief

Mental Description: Jimri is a rather easygoing girl, with a shameless appreciation for the nice things that makes life comfortable. She hasn't the same appreciation for the law, but finds it easier to work within it's limit - stretching them a bit if necessary - rather than blatant illegality. She's a bit of a cynic, having seem more than her share of jaded nobles, greedy merchants, horny artists and the like. She's aware of the Green Pact and the Meat Mandate, but considers them irrelevant out of Valenwood.

Physical Description: Jimri is a somewhat small but pretty bosmer woman, with a nice visage lightened by two large green eyes and a warm smile. She's slim and well built, her body toned by a lot of dancing and riding (well, that's what she's telling, in reality it's more from climbing and practicing martial arts).

Height: 5'4"
Weight: 90lbs
Hair: light brown with coppery glint
Eye Color: bright green

Skills : Sneak, Unarmed combat, Security, Acrobatics, Arts (dancing and singing), Restoration, Mysticism, Acting

Armor/Clothing: silk nightgown - a pretty and flimsy thing. During the day she usually wears a green brocade dress ? of a length and cut that nobody respectable would wear but which doesn't impair movement.

Misc: From her childhood in Valenwood, she has kept an ability to eat with a smile things that would have more than a few self-styled though guy cringe in horror (tree grubs, liver just pulled from a freshly killed animal... that sort of things). Which she sometimes uses to amuse herself with the horrified reactions it causes.

Bio: Jimri is the third daughter (and sixth child) of a rather successful merchant, specialized in moving exotic articles between Cyrodill and Valenwood. During her adolescence, she learned some of the 'true bosmer' way of the hunt from a traditionalist uncle, but it convinced her that the imperial way of life was far more to her liking. From her father's wealthy lifestyle she has picked up a taste for dancing and singing, getting good enough at it to earn a living from it.

[This part isn't public knowledge: As a daughter of a merchant specialized in exotic curiosities, she enjoyed the hospitality of more than a few nobles, poking her nose into their dirty laundry out of curiosity. Until the day she was caught by his father's banker in his own office, checking her father's credit line (he had refused her some present, stating he couldn't afford it. She thought it a lie and decided to check by herself..
Rather than sending her back to her father, the banker though he could use her skills. Basically getting into someone's entourage as the sort of artistic company often found around wealth, then sneaking where she don't belong to either check facts or pilfer some debtor's items of value. To this end he used some of his somewhat shady contacts and associates to improve upon what she already knew while publicly supporting her artistic aspirations.]

Jimri is now somewhat known as a singer and dancer, an artist any rich man can support to improve his receptions and display his wealth and taste. More conservative peoples tend to look down on her as a professional parasite and hanger on, not far removed from a courtesan. Her latest task has sent her in Mournhold, checking the finances of a Hlaalu trader - the rumors of heaps of gold diverted to some unknown destination have her patron worried about the reliability of his accounting reports.

[first post soon to come]

Jimri was enjoying Necrom's hospitality, shamelessly indulging in one of the best inn's luxuries. On someone else's expenses, which made it even better. She had yet to make much inroads with Edrin Hlaalu's private records, but at least she had made enough of an impression on him to get a more than adequate lodging. And since he's owning the place, it's not cost hims as much as it looks. Besides I kept his partners so busy drooling over my 'Valenwood spring ritual dance' he fleeced them for all they're worth. I deserve the reward. And screw whoever thinks I bedded my way into this...

She was already halfway into sleep when violent noises got her awake and standing in a second, high on adrenaline as it seemed the whole inn was crumbing down one her – at least judging from the noise. She rushed to the balcony, feeling the floor reassuringly steady under her feet.
Looking out, she had the unpleasant surprise of seeing the whole city under attack – some sort of siege artillery or magic raining over the buildings, clashes of arms and panicked cries of slaughter audible from the seafront. Gah, I hate party crashers. But I'll have to do something before they reach this place. Whoever they are, It doesn't looks like they're coming for a spectacle...

Jimri made a quick survey of her luggage, looking for something practical to wear. She settled for a riding suit. The moss-green velvet short pants and brocade vest might not be armor, they were at least easy to move in. Though the white silk shirt was bit more revealing than she would have liked with soldiers on a rampage. Even if from the sound of it it seems they're in for killing rather than loot and [censored].

She completed her outfit with a pair of soft leather shoes, then added what seemed a pair of fancy silver-engraved bronze bracers. They look like jewelry, but the mithril inside can stop a sword strike. Something tells me I'll be happy to have them on before this crap ends... With one last survey she picked a belt from the hidden drawer at the bottom of her trunk. The black leather might not fit well with her outfit, but the pouches on it held enough tools to let her through almost any lock. With enough spare room to tuck her purse along.

Sparing a last mournful look around the room, Jimri moved out, pushing her way through the still bewildered customers and staff to the street. Orienting herself quickly, she headed straight away from the attacker and toward the gates. A bit with a thought about giving alert, but mostly because staying in a town under assault didn't strike her as a good idea.

People began to flood the streets in an attempt to flee, while the town guard came out of its daze and went to fight the invaders. The night sky looked beautiful in a horrofic manner as it was lit crimson with smoke, flames and ash. Whoever the attackers were they certainly were not holding back on ordnance as massive ceramic like bombs hurled into the town from trebuchets mounted on the ships. The bombs shattering on impact spewing forth flaming liquid which stuck to anything.

Kazzari was stunned as the docks, ships in the docks and the lower half of town was beng destroyed. Soldiers flooded the streets killing and maiming civillians and guard alike. Leaving noone to chance the rest of the city began one massive fleeing effort to get out. People trampled others killed.

The start of Jimri’s trip to the gates started well - the rich neighborhood meant wider streets and less peoples - but it soon went worse. The main street were crowded, and the side ones well on their way to end up the same as the panicked citizenry made it's best to get away from the attack. A situation where her short stature was more hindrance than help, despite being stronger than she looked.

But seeing the narrower street gave her an idea to get away from the press. Away from the main streets, the roofs were close enough that somebody light and athletic enough could jump over the streets. Someone like her. And if it comes to that, I’d rather die breaking my neck falling from a roof than trampled in a crowd. It’s more elegant…

Translating the thought into action, she picked a corner house whose heavily sculpted walls made a perfect climbing spot as well as an impressive, if tasteless, display of wealth. Soon she was on the roof, sparing a thankful thought for the stone ancestors who had helped her ascension. From her perch, she had a better sight of the situation, with the whole waterfront burning and the unknown attackers slaughtering their way through the fleeing populace. A destruction that appalled the merchant’s daughter she was, but which brought some others thoughts to her mind. Maybe they’re hoping to scare the province into surrender with an atrocity. But no matter what, they’re making a mistake. With the whole docks and warehouses burned down, they will have to rely on their own supplies. If the province strikes back, it’s going to bite them in the backside. Scorched heart isn’t pretty but it works. But that’s soldier’s work, mine is to get out of this in one piece…

Turning her back to the devastation, Jimri headed for the city walls, keeping a brisk pace as she moved on the roofs with familiar ease, jumping without undue trouble over narrower side streets. Keeping her fear tightly leashed as giving in to panic and running was the surest way to get exhausted and fail.

OOC: Excellent, time to get started.

IC: Belrar was woken by a woman's scream. He sat up in his dank bedroll with a jolt, looking around the room. Seeing a red glow dancing around the window, Belrar ran to see what was happening in the city. The Dark Elf was dumbstruck by what he saw. The whole of the city's docks were aflame, bright red fires licking the moonless sky. A ball of fire broke through the thick smoke; Belrar could only guess it had originated from the sea. Horrified, he watched the projectile as it sailed over the city, until it began its descent. As suddenly as it had appeared it crashed into the wall of an abandoned temple, engulfing the building in flames.

Another scream shook Belrar out of his stupor; he turned away from the window and faced his dingy room. Sprinting to his small dresser, he retrieved a small bag of coins and pocketed it. He then took as many articles of clothing as he could hold in his arms and fled the room. He shouted out to the other residents as he flew down the steep stairs "The city is under attack! The dock is already burning, run for your lives!"

His clothes littered the stairway as he finally reached the main floor. He threw the door open, revealing the panicking crowds that already filled the street. He dully registered the few guards trying to calm the mob as they made their way towards the docks, against the unending current of people. Belrar was set to join them when he heard the familiar voice of his friend, Iryan "Belrar! What is happening?!"

Belrar turned to face the Hlaalu guard, seeing his face as fearful as his "I've no idea, Iryan! The city is under attack; the dock is burning, fireballs light more buildings!"

"More?! Attack?! Holy Azura, run for your life!" Iryan shouted over the crowd, fighting to stand in the current of panicking men and mer.

"Yes, run!" Belrar was quick to take the guard's advice, joining the mob as they fled the city. He left Iryan behind him, hoping he would be able to escape as well.

Belrar ran as fast as he was able, almost tripping over a bloody elf that lay on the ground. Further terrified by the dying man, he continued running, fighting through a sea of similarly fleeing people. The dark elf's fervor was only amplified when one of the buildings that lined the street was struck by a fireball, raining burning oil onto the building and the road, killing many of the crowd instantly. Belrar's ears ringed with screams of terror, his eyes blurred by tears and moving bodies, he could do nothing but follow the swarm.

He knew not how long he was running through the city, but he did not stop when he finally reached the gates of Necrom. Finally collapsing on the rough ground, he looked back to the city he had lived in for years. All he could see were the outlines of the tall mausoleums and stone buildings, silhouetted by the flames that engulfed them. Shrieks of dread came flowing from the city, Belrar knew not how many escaped; only that he was one of the lucky. He was nearly calm again when he saw more people escaping through the wide gates, only these were not panicking citizens, but armed men!

The men cut down any that were near enough to reach, Belrar witnessed them slaughter men, women, children; anyone they could! He did not stay to watch the battle, choosing instead to continue his flight along the road along with much of the crowd that had escaped with him. The night was bright as any day, red light washing over the countryside, signaling to all that Necrom had fallen.

OOC: Ok, Belrar is out of the city and fleeing down the road. Any plans of where we're going? The nearest settlement down the road is Sulen Vulgate.

Four people? I'll have to join this because this looks good.

ooc: Your welcome anytime lord V :3 And wow I'm liking these posts to

ic: It seemed the city was lost to these unknown attackers, deep in the once religious centre those unfortunate enough to have been cornered were [censored], killed, butchered and looted. The massive cathedral in the centre of town got struck and set ablaze by the howling balls of oil filled pots. The horizion became blood red as the streets began to run red with blood of the innocents. The nearby legion Fort had now come into action, its small garrison of soldiers formed a perimetre around the main gates of Necrom helping people out while fighting back the armed assailants. By now Kazzari had managed to get his backside out of Necrom and into the forest, panting and coughing from the thick smoke and heat.

It seemed many other people had managed to get out and into the woods to hide.


ooc: Where I am going with this is well the nearest settlement is abit far to run on foot. I would think hide in the woods or a cavern and wait till sunrise when the marauders (sp) have left.

After what seemed a lifetime of roof-walking and street-jumping, Jimri finally could see the city's wall. Which unfortunately were far beyond the reach of her jumping skill. Which meant getting down to the streets and the crowd filling them, spilling out the city like blood seeping from a wound. Not the cheeriest image I ever cam up with? But at least they're still getting out.

Hearing clashes of steel coming over the walls, Jimri decided she's better hurry and get out while there was still someone fighting to keep the attackers from blocking the gates. Fortunately for her descend, the houses bordering the main street tended toward the sculpted side of decoration. A feature she used to get down as fast as she could. She paused for a seconds at the end of her descent, letting go and landing gracefully right behind a remarkably burly khajiit commoner ? she wasn't familiar enough with them to tell what breed, but it's seven plus feet of muscle and scars let him move fast through the crowd. Sticking like a limpet to the furry brute she soon passed the gates. The crowd prevented her from getting any good look at the fighting going on the side, but she didn't mind. A fight she could see from ground level was closer than she liked.

As the crowd piled on the road she abandoned the khajit to move to the side. Sure roads are convenient to move. It makes them attractive to a crowd of refugee. It also make them attractive to an army, and she wasn't in any hurry to be in the unknown attackers's path if they decided to follow that particular road. Soon she reached the edge of the crowd and quietly slipped out in the countryside, changing her pace from a walk to a steady trot. One that had been screamed, shoved and slapped into her during her uncle's demonstration of the 'true bosmer way' and would let her carry on for way longer than one would think possible for the pampered city girl she looked like.

Once removed enough from sight for her taste she paused, taking off her shirt and folding it into a scarf-like bundle she tied around her waist, mostly tucked under her vest. The pants and vest are of a dark enough shade to blend in the forest, but that white silk can be spotted from a mile away, even in the night... Once done, she resumed her trot, heading for the woods. Even if she would sound clumsy compared to a bosmer hunter, she had taken care to keep up the training from her teenage years. With a job like mine, one can never know when, and where I might have to hide and run...

[OOC : let' try to keep this RP alive shall we ?]
Having reached the woods, Jimri slowed down, relishing the cover they offered. But keeping her ears and eyes open as she moved around. By destroying Necrom, the unknown invaders had not only removed military forces, but also broken the law's arm, leaving those who made it out of the walls with only their own conscience to guide their actions. Not exactly the best situation a lone, pretty girl like me can found herself in. Even if I pack some surprises of my own.

Noticing her bracer's sheen, she cursed under her breath. Dumb girl, you should have picked something to wrap on them. I'll have to improvise. It's been years since I last did that sort of things, but I should manage.

Picking a convenient corner of the woods, she gathered several armful of dead ferns. Knotting and weaving them into a fabric of sorts, using it to wrap her bracers with something that didn't shine. Here it is. Won't win me any beauty prise, but when running for one's life, one has to make do... Now I'll have to find a place to get some sleep. I's been a short night and a lot of travel.

ooc: Sorry about that Been busy with work

ic:

The city burned that night. clouds of smoke and ash rose into the air casting the moons into shadow. The smells of charring flesh, sounds of screams slowly died down into nothing during the very early hours of the morning when the suns rays began to peek over the mountains casting an eerie light on the blackened and now empty city. Slowly people began to emerge from the forests in hiding the city was empty of soldiers, no warships in the harbor. Slowly people entered the once proud city of Necrom. Blood stained the streets and deeper into the city buildings still smoldered. People began to look for their lost loved ones and gather their belongings if any had survived.


Kazzari had spent the night in the forest like many, hiding from the attackers knowing there was no hope of fighting them. He watched as these innocents weeped over their fallen, widowed husbands and wives, orphaned children... How could someone..anyone do this? he thought as he saw some heads mounted on stakes, bodies strewn about, torched, frozen from magic, while there was alittle hope for some as people came from hiding in sewers or inside locked basemants that the attackers couldn't get into. Mostly dark elves and a few of the other races seemed present, the half breed sticking out like a sore thumb in the mass of soot/dirt covered people. Many were now gathering what little they had left and forming one mass refugee caravan. Kazzari noticed a body that was out of place, or it seemed to be. Armour was different, it had a tail and different marked fur. Slowly he moved over to it and knelt down, examining the corpse and searched it, pulling off the helmet and seeing a rather..familiar face. Looked khajiit but still had different markings from any breed he had ever seen. He then found on it a small strange amulet, it was broken but made of gold. He picked it up and stood up, stareing at the amulet and its broken design.

The sun's ray finally pulled Jimri out of her sleep. With less grumbling and dithering than was usual for her. A carefully selected tree fork about ten meters above ground didn't make a bed nice enough to regret leaving. Soon fully awakened, she decided to climb higher, the large tree giving the chance for an overview of the city. What she managed to see through the lingering smoke made little sense : they were no ships afloat in th harbor, and neither was any kind of army lingering around the city. Weird, it seems they just torched the place and left. Why put such an effort for no gain ?

Out of a mixture of curiosity and a somewhat forlorn hoe of recovering some of her possessions ? the inn had been mostly solid stone masonry and might have survived ? she came done and headed for what was left of Necrom. Arriving to the city's outlying district, he paused to improve her looks. Not that she expected anyone to be exactly prim and proper, but she had always preferred to look her best. Which meant discarding the fern frond sheaths from her bracers and putting back her shirt. And considering my vest's cut, that might spare me some attention I'd rather do without. With a good dose of work with her fingers she even managed to bring her hair into something reasonably ordered. Even iit he result would have been frowned upon before the attack, they made her incredibly fresh now.

Entering the city, her hopes of finding the inn standing lowered as she saw the extend of the damage, many buildings still smoldering. Worse she could see the grizzly result of the attacker's action. Making her suddenly less grumpy about the missed meals. How can someone even remotely civilized do that sort of things... I don't know what's driving this guys, but it looks like they're hating the dunmers ? and whoever hangs around with them ? as fiercely as any escaped slave could. Damn that's revolting. At least it's been less than and day. It don't stinks too much. Not yet... As she walked she noticed some of the survivors casting her suspicious glances, apparently wondering about her rather unscathed appearance.

Her steps carried her to her former residence ? which unfortunately was no more than a burned-out shell of it's former glory. Damn, so long for my earthly possessions. They say shedding them is good for your soul, but having some jerk shed them for me makes me mad, not wise. And I think I'd better not linger around for too long. There's still no law and I don't care much for the way some of these peoples are eying me. What do they think ? That I helped and was spared as a reward ? Or maybe just that after such a rotten night they deserve some entertainment...

Reluctant for any display of weakness, Jimri backed out toward the city walls, Keeping an assured pace and a straight back that stood out amongst the ragged survivors.

OOC: Eh, time to post. Forget your conventions, I post something different

IC: Belrar collapsed, exhausted on the side of the road leading from Necrom to Vulgate. Blood stained images of the attack on his home cycled endlessly through his mind; they had fueled his panicked body for miles of running. However, the fear began to subside when the elf realized no one was following him. And with it, his terror speed flight. Now he could barely move, passed out in the middle of the deserted road.

He lay there for hours, his breathing ragged, his flimsy body not used to such exertion. He thought for sure his heart would burst from his ashen chest and leave him dead, he could not make himself even turn over so as to separate his face from the ground.

'My favorite shirt...Ruined beyond repair...What would Father say?' Belrar was not thinking clearly. He thought he was imagining the figure that slowly approached him, stalking down the road without a care in the world. His blurry vision revealed to him the colors of a Hlaalu guard. He could swear the man was saying something, but Belrar could not make out words. His red eyes drooped shut, threatening never to rise again.

Suddenly, motion. Belrar's body was being lifted up, strong arms supported him, turned him onto his back and lifted his head. He would still be sleeping peacefully if not for the shouting "Sir! What has happened?! What are you doing in the road?!"

Belrar did not want to expend the effort opening his eyes, nonetheless telling the guard about the series of events that had brought him here. 'But I must...I might be the only one that made it this far, I have to warn them. The people...Iryan...they need help...'

Weakly, Belrar raised an arm, pointing in the direction he had come. His lips quivered, then a whisper "Necrom. Fire. Attack. Help..."

"What? What about Necrom? Attacked? That's impossible, there were at least triple the normal garrison of guards there..."

"Please..." Belrar was living proof that Necrom was in trouble, and the Imperial man that held him had to acknowledge the fact something was amiss. His job done, Belrar lost consciousness, trusting the guard to do something to help.

OOC: Character sheet approved by Siberia. Ill make an opening post soon. But here is My Character.


Name: Dimio
Age: 30
Race: Bosmer
Gender: Male
Birthsign: Steed
Class: Bard
Skills: Music (Lute and Singing), Speechcraft, Acrobatics, Short Blade, Illusion, Light Armor, Athletics

Appearance: Dimio's small lips seem to usually be upturned in a smile, reflecting on his usually cheerful demeanor. Like most bosmer, he has a small, square shaped head, pronounced cheekbones, and tall forehead. His nose is a bit larger than most bosmer, and his thin, high eyebrows also distinguish him from others of his Race. also unlike most bosmer, he has a small gotee. His copper colored hair is oiled back, and then put into a small ponytail in the back.
Height: 4' 10 "
Weight: 135 lbs
Build: Dimio at first would not seem like he is in shape, judging from his thin build, but his nimbleness on his feet and quick wits and luck make up for his lacking of much physical strength
Eye colour: Emerald

Armour: Wears chainmail cuirass and leather boots
Clothing: Velvet pants
Weapons: Silver Shortsword
Other: A Lute, 35 gold coins
Personality: Dimio always seems like he is in a happy, sing songy mood. Even in a fight, you may hear him hum a song hewas singing at the bar last night. He has a tendancy to get himself into bad situations.

Bio: Dimio Was born to a mother who did not want him, and was left on the doorstep of an orphanage in skingrad. He grew up a lonely child, but always had an affinity for music. He could usually be found in the Orphanage singing or playing a lute. One day, a wandering Bard entered the Orphanage and began to entertain the Children. Dimio was in total awe of the Bard, and from that point on learned to be a bard like him. He became happier, and soon was entertaining the entire orphanage with his delightful songs.

When he left the orphanage at 18, he was already a talented musician, nimble fighter, and happy man. He wandered throught Tamreil, searching for a good song to sing and things to sing songs about. He was inside a bar In Necrom when the attack occured, and fled into the Forest. He seeks to find what is happening with the Nerevarine so he may have another song in his collection of songs of great events.

Name: Zalphon S. Broodikus

Age: 37

Race: Dunmer

six: Male

Class: Spell-Knight (Heavy Armor Wizard with custom skills)

Skills: Blade, Heavy Armor, Conjuration, Block, Destruction, Athletics, Speechcraft

Appearance: Zalphon is an ash-colored dunmer with blood-red eyes...His Black Hair is long and in a natural position...

Height: 6'

Weight: 150 lbs

Build: Extremely strong and intelligent, but not very agile, and average luck...

Eye Color: Red

Armor: A full suit of elven armor

Clothing: Exquisite shirt, pants.

Weapons: An elven longsword

Other: 500 gold, 2 bottles of skooma, and a bottle of flin.

Bio: Born in Vvardenfell, he joined House Telvanni at age 20, and is currently a Master in House Telvanni... He attained his elven armor through...not-so pleasant means... Cruelty is not something he minds, as long as it isn't directed towards him. He joined House Telvanni to gain power...As a child his parents constantly berated him calling him "weak", he joined to become "strong" and he has, through many months of hard study, work, and dedication...

Edit: Fixed so it wasn't Horribad...thanks to some people letting me know it was bad, I didn't know about loot restrictions, artifact restrictions, etc.

Dimio sat down in the forest outside necrom. He was surrounded by strangers, who had been brought together by the cataclysmic events that was the random and brutal attack at Necrom. Dimio remembered how it happened. On moment, he was singing a song about the battle of Bruma in a Tavern, the next a giant fireball destroyed the wall and left many of those he entertained burned. He cast an invisibility spell and hummed the rest of the song as he calmly walked out of the Tavern, moments before it collapsed into a giant pile of burning rubble.

When he reached the outside of the city, he saw a few others who were gathered around. Most of them were dunmer, but there were a few others of other races gathered there to. He counted about 12 in all. Or something around that number.They probably didnt know each other, and they definatly didnt know Dimio, but after the events of that night, anything seemed possible.

Dimio made himself visible again about 20 yards ahead of the group. This way, if the became startled, he would have ample room to react. He waved his arm and yelled "Hello friends! Follow me! Let us get away from this horrible place!" the group looked at him, and after a moment of talk, decided to follow the Bosmer.

Back in the present, Dimio looked around and absorbed the enviorment around him. He estimated they were about 5 miles away froom the city. The air smelled like soot from the massive fire at Necrom. They were surrounded by trees, and had voted not to start a fire because of the risk of detection from these mysterious soldiers. They were probably sending out search parties to find survivors, and what they wanted with Necrom. But the events made for a good song, at least.

Dimio too out his lute and strummed a chord. It echoed in the silence of the night, and it seemed to wash away the air of hostility and fear in the group. Dimio smiled. A young Dunmer woman, who couldnt be older that 20, wearing a black blouse with brown leather pants sat next to him. Her short, black hair blew in the night breeze, and the pale moonlight could illumiate her pretty face. The moonlight also reflected off an exquisite silver blade. Well, looks like im not the only one who can hold their own Dimio thought.

The Woman smiled, "Sing a song." she asked.

Dimio chuckled, "If i can have a name from you, I'll sing a song"

The Dark Elf grinned, "Illiea.Thats my Name"

Dimio Smiled. "Illiea. Pretty name for a pretty face" Illiea Blushed and Dimio turned to the circle of people who now sat in the grass just as dimio did. "Let Me sing a song. A song of a Brave man who lived far, far away from here."

Dimio began to play a familiar tune on his Lute, and sung softly in the night. Tommorrow they would find help. But tonight, Dimio shall sing.

ooc: Zalphon ya havent sent me the sheet for approval, while I dont have artifact restrictions it is always good not to have them, definitely at the beginning of the rp. Your sheets missing a few bits, needs alittle more detail to it. Whats his personality? Alittle more detail to background? That kinda thing. And as its stated in the rules, Send it to me before putting it up By the way everyone its dawn after the attack.

ic:

As the sunlight began to creep further onto the city of the dead it was obvious the total true toll that was taken to the city. The docks were incinerated almost, many buildings were nothing but stone shells of their former glory with many fires still raging in the market areas. Kazzari pocketed the broken amulet and turned to notice a bosmer woman, she stood out of the crowd and seemed rather... well presented considering the situation. He had seen her in one of the more upper class inns a night ago but never thought anything about it. It was strange, she didnt seem to care or look for anything that could have been hers. He approached her with a curious look "Hmm you seem rather out of place here, or you have a rather high self image to maintain in any time. Such confidence is good." he spoke to her.


The patrols of legionaries had returned from their nightly run of the road between necrom and Vulgate to find what horror that stood in front of them, their comrades were dead on a killing field between the city and the fort that sat just outside the walls. they began to move into the city proper pale than ghosts at the carnage they saw, a small fraction of citizens survived the carnage and were gathering what they could, some were intent on staying while others were setting themselves up to leave. The legion soldiers began to help those that needed it while others began searching the ruins with others for those whom are missing or possibly still alive.

While she walked toward the gate, Jimri took care to appear the image of confidence. Not arrogance or blindness to what happened around, rather voicelessly announcing "whatever you're thinking about, I can deal with it without breaking a sweat.". Imagining to be on stage to distance herself from he attack's grisly results... Which didn't prevent her from noticing one survivor to come to meet her ? though his attitude suggested curiosity rather than more unpleasant motives. Curiosity I can deal with. Especially from a guy twice my weight and on foot taller. A fighter of some sort from his equipment and the way he wallks.

As he spoke she stopped, bringing her charm to bear, answering his question with a smile "Well, I already stand out - being a bosmer for starts. I'd rather go the whole road and look as I own the place like a cat than scurry from wall to wall like frightened mouse. But there's not much left to own. I hoped my inn might have survived the night, but our visitors have burned it to the ground." She shrugged philosophically. "At least I've kept my life, that would have been harder to replace."

As she spoke her gaze drifted to the legionnaires moving through the rubbles "Speaking of life, I owe at least some of it to the Legion. Maybe I shall repay the favor. I know enough about healing magic to give a hand, and I think they'd welcome any help.". Feeling her somewhat arched mouth and empty stomach, she placed a hand on it before commenting with an humorous smile "Seems like the right thing to do, and a good way to get some meal and drink to boot. And I'd rather trust what comes from the Legion than anything those butchers may have touched. I haven't the faintest idea of who they are, but I can tell I'm not going to like them."

He listened to her as she spoke with the air of confidence and a rather.. charming manner " Well I guess that's one way to go. As for food and drink I believe the fort there..." he looked to it, there were soldiers taking out heavy tables to help cater for the survivors by rationing out the food stores. " They seem to be ahead in that. Setting up for the refugees and getting them food. Amazing what happens after a sudden incident such as this." he spoke in a lightly accented voice common to most khajiit. "Ill be honest though... there is something fishy about this. Who would attack a large city with a sizeable garrison plus a legion fort nearby?" He added.

The guard whom had found the unconcious man had relayed the story back to his superiors. Whom they had sent both scouts and the unconcious male with them to necrom. Seeing as they had bare services in terms of healers. Only to find that what he had said was true.. the city was nearly levelled.

Jimri took a look around, her eyes moving on the destroyed city, quickly passing the grisly trophies left in the attacker's wake. Absent-mindedly tapping her chin with a finger as she thought about Kazzari's question. "Well, someone with enough means to do it. And enough information to know he has. I don't pretend to know much about army things, but they rolled the whole deal too good to be a simple case of little brains but lot of balls and luck. Which means they want to achieve something, and have thought about how to do it..."

Drifting into he interrogations Jimri kept thinking aloud, reviewing possible motives.
"Bridgehead for conquest ? No way, they'd have kept the stores and stayed there...
Hoping to scare the province into surrender, or at least into running like a headless chicken ? Maybe, or else get us enraged enough to do something stupid.
Revenge for something ? Quite likely too. But who's avenging what ? I've never heard of something big and nasty enough to get that sort of reaction."

Dropping out of her thoughts she shot an embarrassed smile "Sorry for the rambling, I was thinking aloud. And completely forgetting any sort of introduction. I'm Jimri ? just Jimri, I'm somewhat the family's black sheep. Dancer, singer and actress, about as respectable as beggar in their opinion. Though the baggar at least don't pretend to be of any use."

IC: Belrar woke up back in his home, on the bedroll that had become so familiar to him. He sat up, yawned, and looked towards the window to see how the weather was today. He was brought hurtling back into the events of the previous night when he realized that this was not his room. He appeared to be in some kind of emergency hospital, a makeshift ward full of groaning patients, tables of medical supplies, and a few people shuffling around who he guessed were the healers.

"What...where am I?" He asked to no one in particular.

"You," A Redguard woman walked towards him "Are in Necrom. Or what's left of it." The woman looked like she was ready to cry. 'So the city was attacked...'

"What happened?" Belrar said softly, determined to sort out the events of last night without distressing the woman further.

"No one knows. Ships appeared in the middle of the night and started launching explosives into the city. Almost everyone fled into the wild, only the guards and those unlucky enough to be caught stayed. None survived...not even my husband!" The Redguard broke down in tears, Belrar tried to stand up and comfort her, but she turned away.

"No, rest...you deserve it, after warning the guards of Vulgate about us." Belrar was silent 'What?!'

"What do you mean?" He moved in front of her, not letting her leave. He didn't care that she was crying any longer, he was fascinated by what she had said.

"The guards that brought you here, they said you had come halfway to Vulgate and chanced upon a patrolling Hlaalu. He went back to the city and brought the rescue crew here, if not for them we would probably have destroyed each other over a few meager supplies. Just the garrison at the fort would never have been enough. They said you were unconscious the entire time, they were afraid you had been hurt during the attack, so they brought you here."

Suddenly Belrar remembered. He recalled how he had run along the road for hours after the attack, and then collapsed. The details were fuzzy, but he did remember a guard. 'So he went back to Vulgate, and brought a rescue crew...'

"I-I'm fine. I would like to see the city...please." Belrar felt like it was a dream.

"Okay, but if you feel faint, stop and rest." The woman had calmed down, she gestured to the stone archway that had once supported a door.

Belrar was shocked at what he saw. "Impossible..."


OOC: I believe you all have set the scene concerning the streets. No need to restate it again, I'll just have him be wandering the streets, if any of you want to talk to him for any reason.

ooc: Despise writers block! Ok post!

ic: But Indeed, nothing is impossible...

He was about to speak before one of the legionarres shouted out "Anyone who wishes NOT to stay should get what little they can and be ready before midday! There is a refugee caravan forming to head to mournhold! Anyone capable with a weapon or have any particular skills to help with these peoples journey, should they wish to sign up to help these civilliansm Speak with the sergeant here!" The half breeds ears perked up "One would be wise to go on this... I can sense that staying here will not bode well for some, if not all of us."

An old woman had come from the ruins, she was paler than most ash born, she seemed unharmed nor...frightened by this sudden turn of events. A strange smell seemed to enemate from her, maybe just the perfume she wore. But it did carry something strange, she was frail and old but carried within a strange spirit and a definitive power that could not be discerned. She hobbled her way up and towards the sargeant who was handling the caravan. Several soldiers were already fixing many wagons that had survived the ordeal for the long journey ahead. "Hmm I would think that your skills would be most helpful with this. As would mine... free food, help with hunting and shelter with this caravan. Slight danger as well. But hey, what say you?" he asked Jimri.