» Sat Aug 06, 2011 12:06 pm This is the In Character companion thread to my http://www.gamesas.com/index.php?/topic/1215405-just-your-average-adventurers/, if you want more information on what it's all about. I will list the characters here and then we'll begin! Good gaming everyone!
We begin in the year 4E 8, in the village of Water's Edge, just north of Leyawiin, and on the shore of the Lower Niben, in Cyrodiil. Here our soon-to-be heroes have unknowingly gathered for an adventure that will lead them across the failing Empire of Tamriel and beyond. A journey that will challenge them to explore, grow, and conquer many enemies, including those within, in an effort to stave off yet another thread to the doomed land. They are as follows.
Mizar played by Vashar
Spoiler
Mizar, Male Argonian, Age 27, Birthsign "The Apprentice"
Character Class: Shadowmage
Master Skills: Sneak
Expert Skills: Blade, Illusion
Journeyman Skills: Alchemy, Athletics, Restoration, Security
Apprentice Skills: Acrobatics, Hand to Hand, Marksman, Mysticism
Mizar is considered a Novice in all other skills, with the exceptions of Mercantile and Speechcraft, which I believe, as social skills, are better qualified during roleplay, rather simply stating his proficiency.
Character History (The "Quick" Version):
Description:
Character Class: Shadowmage
Master Skills: Sneak
Expert Skills: Blade, Illusion
Journeyman Skills: Alchemy, Athletics, Restoration, Security
Apprentice Skills: Acrobatics, Hand to Hand, Marksman, Mysticism
Mizar is considered a Novice in all other skills, with the exceptions of Mercantile and Speechcraft, which I believe, as social skills, are better qualified during roleplay, rather simply stating his proficiency.
Character History (The "Quick" Version):
Spoiler
Hatched into slavery in Morrowind, Mizar was raised to serve the family of Arvayn Hlaalu on their plantation. He was to learn their farming techniques, and be given a hoe as soon as he could lift one. The child was only three years of age when his mother died, overworked in the fields. His father soon followed, leaving the young Mizar dependent upon his captors. Years passed as he grew into the life planned for him.
When Mizar was five years old, the plantation was visited by a mysterious figure in the night. The Argonian had taken to sneaking into the Hlaalu home about once a week, after everyone had gone to sleep. He made a ritual of breaking into the larder and cracking open a big, juicy, kwama egg, usually diving right into it on the spot. The theft had always gone unnoticed among the large shipments that came in from town. On one particular raid, however, the boy's attention was drawn by a strange, green light he saw from up the stairs. It was just a flash, but his curiosity found it irresistible. Cautiously, Mizar followed to investigate.
Arvayn Hlaalu and his wife died silently in the night, each throat sliced cleanly in their sleep. The assassin turned back to the door, only to find a small, Argonian boy blocking her path. The Altmer towered above Mizar, who looked up at her in return with large, red marbles, barely bliniking and full of fright. The tiny lizard found himself frozen in place, his tail coiled tightly around one leg while his knee quivered. Kwama egg dribbled down his chin as he buried his snout in it. The assassin smiled wickedly.
It was a simple matter of a rival who wanted Arvayn Hlaalu's land for himself. The noble would not sell, and there were few other alternatives. As Arvayn was a close relative of the Morag Tong's Grandmaster, whether or not they would sanction a writ without a more compelling motive. For this reason, the rival felt more comfortable taking the risk of calling the Dark Brotherhood back into Morrowind. Now the only one left in the way of the contract's fulfillment was Davris, Arvayn's son. Davris had never been kind to Mizar, nor had he ever been particularly cruel. The young man was always too wrapped up in his own affairs, planning to leave to study in the city of Vivec within the year, to concern himself with his parents' slaves. Now, the assassin offered the Argonian the blade and one chance to escape this life of servitude. He took both.
The Dark Brotherhood assassin, named Taelinwe, bade Mizar to keep the short sword with him always. Used to unknowingly make his first kill in the name of Sithis, it was now bound to him, she said. It was more like a claymore to his tiny arms, large and unwieldy, but he agreed, and the two immediately left for Cyrodiil.
The weapon itself was probably the most beautiful thing Mizar had ever seen. The entire hilt, pommel, and blade were one piece, black and gleaming, possibly carved from obsidian. The dual edges were bright green, slightly translucent, and razor-sharp. The blade was thin, but strong, displaying a beautiful pattern in a style the boy's limited experience could not recognize. Lines curved and cut into each other, almost like dueling serpents. The handle was square and turned 45 degrees. It was covered in scales, like those of a reptile, and ended in four claws clutching a gem at the pommel, which was cut to a fine point.
So Mizar was raised into advlthood by his family within the Dark Brotherhood. The love they professed was a different feeling from what he remembered of his parents, though those memories grew vague, and he could barely recall them at all. For the first time, he could count himself happy. He learned from his familty members their skills of stealth and combat, creation and use of poisons, and it was then that he also had his first taste of magic. They trained him well in the school of illusion, which they thought most useful. He was taught to pass any barrier, be it lock or guard, like an assassin, and to fade away after a swift kill.
Taelinwe, who had taken young Mizar under her wing, rose within the Brotherhood as quickly as her charge. By the time Mizar reached Eliminator rank, which he did with surprising speed, he was told, a Speaker of the Black Hand had chosen the Altmer as his new Silencer. From that point on, Mizar didn't get to see much of her anymore, but life went on.
One night, however, Mizar awoke to a shocking surprise. He sat up in his bed to find his family members all around him - murdered! Slowly, the glint of a long blade slid into view, illuminated by a pale streak of light. It aimed for his throat. Then the solemn face of Taelinwe appeared and commanded him to defend himself. Confused, Mizar reached for his beloved blade, gifted to him by the assassin, and they battled. As they fought, Taelinwe explained that there was a traitor within the Dark Brotherhood and she had been dispatched to purify the sanctuary. The Speaker was alarmed. The Rite of Purification was rarely employed, but this was the second time in the last decade that it had been used.
Taelinwe had quickly and silently cut down all of the others in her sleep, much as she had done on the first night she and Mizar met. She went to the Argonian last, but as she saw him, she could not bring her blade to bear. She watched him sleep for what seemed like an eternity before she finally decided to wake him. To at least give him a fighting chance. And so fight they did. Their blades clashed again and again until finally, Mizar let loose a bit of the magic he had practiced. A timely invisibility spell caught Taelinwe off-guard just long enough for him to maneuver and strike a grievous blow.
Mizar ran that night. He took to the road, bringing with him only his sword, a set of black robes he had found in the sanctuary, and some food to last him a few days. He traveled the countryside of Cyrodiil for weeks, walking the roads by night, and moving intot he wilderness to sleep at night, and avoiding the Imperial Legion patrols. It wasn't until he reached a small village called Water's Edge, just north of the town of Leyawiin, that he collapsed from hunger.
The Argonian finally awoke in a soft bed near a blazing fire, though he knew not when or where. When he stirred, a weary-looking, old man appeared and offered Mizar a bowl of stew. If he should have been suspicious of this random act of great generosity, Mizar was in no position to do so. He took the bowl and ate quickly. Only after every drop of the gravy was licked clean did he stop to offer his thanks.
Mizar stayed in that village. The old man called himself Marcel Amelion, and he offered his home. The Argonian did all the chores around the house, and outside as well, to repay his debt. There was no doubt in his mind he owed the old Breton his life. Soon, he met the other villagers. They were kind people, but very simple. The sword that Mizar carried certainly did not go unnoticed. Marcel confided that he has lost his daughter many years ago, along with all of the other former residents, to a goblin attack. The young reptilian agreed to protect the village should the goblins return.
In this time, however, Mizar preferred to turn his attention to study. He has recently become very interested in the magic school of restoration, and has learned much from some old books that Marcel gave him, and from a lot of practice. He has since been appointed as the village's healer. Since he came to Water's Edge, Mizar has has come to know a different kind of love from what he was shown in the Dark Brotherhood. In the last few years, he has earned the respect and friendship of the other villagers. Somehow, this feel much more "right" to him. It has become something worth cherishing, and it has taught him how wicked the ways of the Brotherhood really are. He has now resolved to turn from that path and to work to make up for that way of life. However, old habits die hard, as they say, and that is much more easily said than done.
When Mizar was five years old, the plantation was visited by a mysterious figure in the night. The Argonian had taken to sneaking into the Hlaalu home about once a week, after everyone had gone to sleep. He made a ritual of breaking into the larder and cracking open a big, juicy, kwama egg, usually diving right into it on the spot. The theft had always gone unnoticed among the large shipments that came in from town. On one particular raid, however, the boy's attention was drawn by a strange, green light he saw from up the stairs. It was just a flash, but his curiosity found it irresistible. Cautiously, Mizar followed to investigate.
Arvayn Hlaalu and his wife died silently in the night, each throat sliced cleanly in their sleep. The assassin turned back to the door, only to find a small, Argonian boy blocking her path. The Altmer towered above Mizar, who looked up at her in return with large, red marbles, barely bliniking and full of fright. The tiny lizard found himself frozen in place, his tail coiled tightly around one leg while his knee quivered. Kwama egg dribbled down his chin as he buried his snout in it. The assassin smiled wickedly.
It was a simple matter of a rival who wanted Arvayn Hlaalu's land for himself. The noble would not sell, and there were few other alternatives. As Arvayn was a close relative of the Morag Tong's Grandmaster, whether or not they would sanction a writ without a more compelling motive. For this reason, the rival felt more comfortable taking the risk of calling the Dark Brotherhood back into Morrowind. Now the only one left in the way of the contract's fulfillment was Davris, Arvayn's son. Davris had never been kind to Mizar, nor had he ever been particularly cruel. The young man was always too wrapped up in his own affairs, planning to leave to study in the city of Vivec within the year, to concern himself with his parents' slaves. Now, the assassin offered the Argonian the blade and one chance to escape this life of servitude. He took both.
The Dark Brotherhood assassin, named Taelinwe, bade Mizar to keep the short sword with him always. Used to unknowingly make his first kill in the name of Sithis, it was now bound to him, she said. It was more like a claymore to his tiny arms, large and unwieldy, but he agreed, and the two immediately left for Cyrodiil.
The weapon itself was probably the most beautiful thing Mizar had ever seen. The entire hilt, pommel, and blade were one piece, black and gleaming, possibly carved from obsidian. The dual edges were bright green, slightly translucent, and razor-sharp. The blade was thin, but strong, displaying a beautiful pattern in a style the boy's limited experience could not recognize. Lines curved and cut into each other, almost like dueling serpents. The handle was square and turned 45 degrees. It was covered in scales, like those of a reptile, and ended in four claws clutching a gem at the pommel, which was cut to a fine point.
So Mizar was raised into advlthood by his family within the Dark Brotherhood. The love they professed was a different feeling from what he remembered of his parents, though those memories grew vague, and he could barely recall them at all. For the first time, he could count himself happy. He learned from his familty members their skills of stealth and combat, creation and use of poisons, and it was then that he also had his first taste of magic. They trained him well in the school of illusion, which they thought most useful. He was taught to pass any barrier, be it lock or guard, like an assassin, and to fade away after a swift kill.
Taelinwe, who had taken young Mizar under her wing, rose within the Brotherhood as quickly as her charge. By the time Mizar reached Eliminator rank, which he did with surprising speed, he was told, a Speaker of the Black Hand had chosen the Altmer as his new Silencer. From that point on, Mizar didn't get to see much of her anymore, but life went on.
One night, however, Mizar awoke to a shocking surprise. He sat up in his bed to find his family members all around him - murdered! Slowly, the glint of a long blade slid into view, illuminated by a pale streak of light. It aimed for his throat. Then the solemn face of Taelinwe appeared and commanded him to defend himself. Confused, Mizar reached for his beloved blade, gifted to him by the assassin, and they battled. As they fought, Taelinwe explained that there was a traitor within the Dark Brotherhood and she had been dispatched to purify the sanctuary. The Speaker was alarmed. The Rite of Purification was rarely employed, but this was the second time in the last decade that it had been used.
Taelinwe had quickly and silently cut down all of the others in her sleep, much as she had done on the first night she and Mizar met. She went to the Argonian last, but as she saw him, she could not bring her blade to bear. She watched him sleep for what seemed like an eternity before she finally decided to wake him. To at least give him a fighting chance. And so fight they did. Their blades clashed again and again until finally, Mizar let loose a bit of the magic he had practiced. A timely invisibility spell caught Taelinwe off-guard just long enough for him to maneuver and strike a grievous blow.
Mizar ran that night. He took to the road, bringing with him only his sword, a set of black robes he had found in the sanctuary, and some food to last him a few days. He traveled the countryside of Cyrodiil for weeks, walking the roads by night, and moving intot he wilderness to sleep at night, and avoiding the Imperial Legion patrols. It wasn't until he reached a small village called Water's Edge, just north of the town of Leyawiin, that he collapsed from hunger.
The Argonian finally awoke in a soft bed near a blazing fire, though he knew not when or where. When he stirred, a weary-looking, old man appeared and offered Mizar a bowl of stew. If he should have been suspicious of this random act of great generosity, Mizar was in no position to do so. He took the bowl and ate quickly. Only after every drop of the gravy was licked clean did he stop to offer his thanks.
Mizar stayed in that village. The old man called himself Marcel Amelion, and he offered his home. The Argonian did all the chores around the house, and outside as well, to repay his debt. There was no doubt in his mind he owed the old Breton his life. Soon, he met the other villagers. They were kind people, but very simple. The sword that Mizar carried certainly did not go unnoticed. Marcel confided that he has lost his daughter many years ago, along with all of the other former residents, to a goblin attack. The young reptilian agreed to protect the village should the goblins return.
In this time, however, Mizar preferred to turn his attention to study. He has recently become very interested in the magic school of restoration, and has learned much from some old books that Marcel gave him, and from a lot of practice. He has since been appointed as the village's healer. Since he came to Water's Edge, Mizar has has come to know a different kind of love from what he was shown in the Dark Brotherhood. In the last few years, he has earned the respect and friendship of the other villagers. Somehow, this feel much more "right" to him. It has become something worth cherishing, and it has taught him how wicked the ways of the Brotherhood really are. He has now resolved to turn from that path and to work to make up for that way of life. However, old habits die hard, as they say, and that is much more easily said than done.
Description:
Spoiler
Mizar is a young, advlt Argonian standing just under six feet tall, not including the length of his tail. The pale, blue scales of his cheeks are just starting to change to a lush green, highlighting the length of his smooth, slender snout, and contrasting with the rust-red that covers most of his body. His eyes and large and red, sporting the traditional reptilian pupils, and crowned with barbed ridges for his eyebrows. These grow into large, finned spines as they reach back on his head, and a bit of flesh seems to be missing from the fin on his left side, likely the unfortunate result of a past scrap.
The lean, toned Argonian has a lithe and flowing build, but it is usually hidden beneath the long, black robes that he always wears. His hands are often also covered, with black, leather gloves. Each finger has a small hole to permit his needle-like, reptilian claws. He keeps his feet wrapped, leaving only his heels and toes exposed, while he walks otherwise barefoot. His long, powerful tail hangs out the back of his robes, usually swaying side-to-side as he walks. Many scars appear on the surface, following a relatively horizontal correlation. He prefers to travel lightly, typically carrying a small pouch for some coins, another for gathering alchemical ingredients, and some food. Always with him, he keeps his only weapon - the short sword he received as a boy. It receives very little use these days, but in all this time, the blade never seems to dull. The weapon itself carries a powerful magical aura, but the charge has long since been spent. Not even Mizar knows what effect it might have had.
The lean, toned Argonian has a lithe and flowing build, but it is usually hidden beneath the long, black robes that he always wears. His hands are often also covered, with black, leather gloves. Each finger has a small hole to permit his needle-like, reptilian claws. He keeps his feet wrapped, leaving only his heels and toes exposed, while he walks otherwise barefoot. His long, powerful tail hangs out the back of his robes, usually swaying side-to-side as he walks. Many scars appear on the surface, following a relatively horizontal correlation. He prefers to travel lightly, typically carrying a small pouch for some coins, another for gathering alchemical ingredients, and some food. Always with him, he keeps his only weapon - the short sword he received as a boy. It receives very little use these days, but in all this time, the blade never seems to dull. The weapon itself carries a powerful magical aura, but the charge has long since been spent. Not even Mizar knows what effect it might have had.
----------------------------------------
Constantine Julius played by TheUnadoringFan
Spoiler
Name: Constantine Julius
Race: Imperial
Age: 39
Birthsign: Warrior
Class: Crusader
Master Skills: Blade
Expert Skills: Heavy Armor, Blunt
Journeyman Skills: Destruction, Restoration, Block
Apprentice Skills: Athletics
Novice Skills: Everything else.
Background
Physical Description and Personality
Race: Imperial
Age: 39
Birthsign: Warrior
Class: Crusader
Master Skills: Blade
Expert Skills: Heavy Armor, Blunt
Journeyman Skills: Destruction, Restoration, Block
Apprentice Skills: Athletics
Novice Skills: Everything else.
Background
Spoiler
Constantine was born in the Imperial City, as the son of an Elder Councilor life was easy. From a young age Constantine received the finest education money could buy, both arcane and mundane.
In his late teens, Constantine traveled Tamriel as a crusader, doing all he could to better the lives of it's citizens no matter what race or religion.
One day, in his mid-twenties, Constantine got word of a great knight who had reformed the Knights of the Nine and was intent on destroying Umaril the Unfeathered.
Constantine traveled to southern Cyrodiil and joined the Knights of the Nine.
After several months, the Knights of the Nine were victorious, and Umaril had been vanquished once more.
He aided the other knights in building a castle in southern Cyrodiil. Eventually a small town developed around the castle, seeking the protection of the knights.
After a few years, the knights recieved word that both his father and the Emperor had been killed and that a gate to the demonic planes of Oblivion had opened and destroyed Kvatch.
The Grand Crusader led his knights on a crusade and closed the gate, but not all was well, more gates began opening across all of Tamriel! The Knights battled against the forces of Mehrunes Dagon, closing dozens, if not hundreds of gates all across the Empire, from Firsthold to Vivec and from Senchal to Daggerfall. The knights participated in many battles and they aided both Martin and the Champion of Cyrodiil during the battles of Bruma and the Imperial City. Mehrunes Dagon was eventually vanquished, but the Empire fell with him and Tamriel was plunged into chaos.
The small town surrounding the castle grew further, with many people seeking to flee the chaotic, crumbling remains of the Empire.
In his thirty fifth year, a gate to the Shivering Isles opened in the Niben Bay, the Grand Crusader again led his Knights on a crusade against the forces of Oblivion once more. They failed. A monstrous creature slew many of the knights, Constantine, the Grand Crusader and another knight named Lathon were all that remained. Shortly afterward, the remains of the Mythic Dawn attacked their castle and destroyed it utterly. Constantine awoke after the battle, surrounded by the ruins of the town and castle. Surrounded by the corpes of his former friends. Constantine wandered the ruins for three days, searching for the body of the Grand Crusader. He did not find the man, but he found his his shield, the Shield of the Crusader and Sir Lathon's sword, the name of which has been lost. In shame, Constantine fled to the small town of Water's Edge.
That was four years ago. In Water's Edge, Constantine built small house for himself. Constantine continues to seek mercy from the Nine for his cowardly actions all those years go and he seeks a chance to redeem himself.
In his late teens, Constantine traveled Tamriel as a crusader, doing all he could to better the lives of it's citizens no matter what race or religion.
One day, in his mid-twenties, Constantine got word of a great knight who had reformed the Knights of the Nine and was intent on destroying Umaril the Unfeathered.
Constantine traveled to southern Cyrodiil and joined the Knights of the Nine.
After several months, the Knights of the Nine were victorious, and Umaril had been vanquished once more.
He aided the other knights in building a castle in southern Cyrodiil. Eventually a small town developed around the castle, seeking the protection of the knights.
After a few years, the knights recieved word that both his father and the Emperor had been killed and that a gate to the demonic planes of Oblivion had opened and destroyed Kvatch.
The Grand Crusader led his knights on a crusade and closed the gate, but not all was well, more gates began opening across all of Tamriel! The Knights battled against the forces of Mehrunes Dagon, closing dozens, if not hundreds of gates all across the Empire, from Firsthold to Vivec and from Senchal to Daggerfall. The knights participated in many battles and they aided both Martin and the Champion of Cyrodiil during the battles of Bruma and the Imperial City. Mehrunes Dagon was eventually vanquished, but the Empire fell with him and Tamriel was plunged into chaos.
The small town surrounding the castle grew further, with many people seeking to flee the chaotic, crumbling remains of the Empire.
In his thirty fifth year, a gate to the Shivering Isles opened in the Niben Bay, the Grand Crusader again led his Knights on a crusade against the forces of Oblivion once more. They failed. A monstrous creature slew many of the knights, Constantine, the Grand Crusader and another knight named Lathon were all that remained. Shortly afterward, the remains of the Mythic Dawn attacked their castle and destroyed it utterly. Constantine awoke after the battle, surrounded by the ruins of the town and castle. Surrounded by the corpes of his former friends. Constantine wandered the ruins for three days, searching for the body of the Grand Crusader. He did not find the man, but he found his his shield, the Shield of the Crusader and Sir Lathon's sword, the name of which has been lost. In shame, Constantine fled to the small town of Water's Edge.
That was four years ago. In Water's Edge, Constantine built small house for himself. Constantine continues to seek mercy from the Nine for his cowardly actions all those years go and he seeks a chance to redeem himself.
Physical Description and Personality
Spoiler
Constantine is just under six feet tall, he has short, sand coloured hair and brown eyes. He is lean, yet muscular.
He rarely partakes of combat, only when his new home is threatened does he fight, he wears his old Knights of the Nine armor and wields the Shield of the Crusader and Sir Lathon's sword, which he has since named "Redemption" the sword is beautiful. It has an ebony hilt, with a gold coloured jewel in the pommel, the cross guard features two dragon heads facing away from each other. The blade itself is made of a silver coloured metal, Constantine knows not what it is nor does he care. The sword appears to be enchanted, though the chage has long since depleted.
He would happily heal the inhabitants of Water's Edge of their injuries for free were it not for the presence of Mizar, who already holds the title of healer.
Constantine is quiet and reclusive he will aid the townspeople in any endeavour and will go out of his way to aid them. He is much liked by the people, yet he tries to keep to himself where possible.
He often leaves the town for short periods, in this time he tries to clear the ruins and caves which surround the area, sometimes he travels as far as Blackmarsh.
He still hopes to one day find the body of the Grand Crusader and place it in the crypt of the old Knights of the Nine priory. Once a month, every month, he goes back to the ruins of the Castle of the Nine and attempts to find the body and anything else of value, he has been unsuccessful as of yet.
He has amassed a very large collection of arms and armour, which he has begun to sell. He donates most of the profits to the chapels across Cyrodiil and to the people of Water's Edge, though he still has enough money to live comfortably.
It may be that his short time in the Shivering Isles has affected his sanity somewhat, though this is barely noticeable most of the time, he occassionaly "snaps" and acts a little eccentric. Sometimes he will strip naked and swim around in the Niben other times he will pick wild flowers and decorate himself and his house with them. Fortunately, these incidents are few and far between and so far, he hasn't done anything to harm anyone.
He rarely partakes of combat, only when his new home is threatened does he fight, he wears his old Knights of the Nine armor and wields the Shield of the Crusader and Sir Lathon's sword, which he has since named "Redemption" the sword is beautiful. It has an ebony hilt, with a gold coloured jewel in the pommel, the cross guard features two dragon heads facing away from each other. The blade itself is made of a silver coloured metal, Constantine knows not what it is nor does he care. The sword appears to be enchanted, though the chage has long since depleted.
He would happily heal the inhabitants of Water's Edge of their injuries for free were it not for the presence of Mizar, who already holds the title of healer.
Constantine is quiet and reclusive he will aid the townspeople in any endeavour and will go out of his way to aid them. He is much liked by the people, yet he tries to keep to himself where possible.
He often leaves the town for short periods, in this time he tries to clear the ruins and caves which surround the area, sometimes he travels as far as Blackmarsh.
He still hopes to one day find the body of the Grand Crusader and place it in the crypt of the old Knights of the Nine priory. Once a month, every month, he goes back to the ruins of the Castle of the Nine and attempts to find the body and anything else of value, he has been unsuccessful as of yet.
He has amassed a very large collection of arms and armour, which he has begun to sell. He donates most of the profits to the chapels across Cyrodiil and to the people of Water's Edge, though he still has enough money to live comfortably.
It may be that his short time in the Shivering Isles has affected his sanity somewhat, though this is barely noticeable most of the time, he occassionaly "snaps" and acts a little eccentric. Sometimes he will strip naked and swim around in the Niben other times he will pick wild flowers and decorate himself and his house with them. Fortunately, these incidents are few and far between and so far, he hasn't done anything to harm anyone.
----------------------------------------
Athell Seridur played by Athell
Spoiler
Name: http://athellseridur.deviantart.com/art/Athell-245642211?q=gallery%3AAthellSeridur&qo=0
Gender: Male
Race: Altmer
Age: 200
Apparent Age: Looks 50
Birthsign: The Apprentice
Appearance: Athell is of the average height for an Altmer making him taller than most Imperials. He looks youthful and full of life with no wrinkles to speak of.
Skills/abilities: Destruction, Restoration, Mysticism, Necromancy
Traits/Quirks: Bit of a Glass Cannon.
Weapons: Magicka and a small glass dagger.
Armor/Clothing: Just basic Mages robes.
Other gear: A small Crystal on a necklace enchanted to fortify his Magicka reserves.
History: Athell was born in Cloudrest in Summerset Isle. He soon became bored with life on the Isle and moved to Cyrodiil to study at the Arcane University, here he became one of the Arch-mages favorite students and he often spent many hours discussing forgotten lore with the Mage. He left the university before the Oblivion crisis and was studying an Ayleid ruin north of Chedinhall when the gates opened. He only noticed the invasion when he came to leave the ruinand found his path blocked by a large Oblivion gate, he saw the gate as a learning opportunity and entered Mehrunes Dagon’s deadlands through it. He made his way through the small pocket of Oblivion until he came to the great tower that housed the Sigil stone powering the gate. Without much difficulty he made his way to the Sigil Keep, removed the stone and watched as the gate closed around him. He found himself stood on the scorched grass outside the ruin still clutching the stone. He returned to the Univerisity to study the stone, it was this stone that he used to enchant his necklace. It was when he returned that he learned of the death of the previous Arch-Mage Traven his close friend and his succession by a previously unknown, Athell was angered by this mage's seemingly impossible rise through the ranks of the guild, especially after he had spent so long working his way up through the guild. He left the Guild and fell in with a group of Necromancers and learnt the secrets to their profane art, his actions eventually caught the attention of the local guardsmen and his was forced to flee the area, he eventually ended up in the small village of Water's Edge, all but forgotten by the Law.
Personality and mental status: Typical haughty Altmer. Holds a grudge against the Mages Guild and its new Arch-Mage almost to the point of irrationality, he loved the previous Arch-Mage and he percieved his lack of trust as betrayal, which scarred him so deeply he can no longer stand any reference to the guild and it's members. His time with the Necromancers hardened him and made him sour and bitter inside.
Gender: Male
Race: Altmer
Age: 200
Apparent Age: Looks 50
Birthsign: The Apprentice
Appearance: Athell is of the average height for an Altmer making him taller than most Imperials. He looks youthful and full of life with no wrinkles to speak of.
Skills/abilities: Destruction, Restoration, Mysticism, Necromancy
Traits/Quirks: Bit of a Glass Cannon.
Weapons: Magicka and a small glass dagger.
Armor/Clothing: Just basic Mages robes.
Other gear: A small Crystal on a necklace enchanted to fortify his Magicka reserves.
History: Athell was born in Cloudrest in Summerset Isle. He soon became bored with life on the Isle and moved to Cyrodiil to study at the Arcane University, here he became one of the Arch-mages favorite students and he often spent many hours discussing forgotten lore with the Mage. He left the university before the Oblivion crisis and was studying an Ayleid ruin north of Chedinhall when the gates opened. He only noticed the invasion when he came to leave the ruinand found his path blocked by a large Oblivion gate, he saw the gate as a learning opportunity and entered Mehrunes Dagon’s deadlands through it. He made his way through the small pocket of Oblivion until he came to the great tower that housed the Sigil stone powering the gate. Without much difficulty he made his way to the Sigil Keep, removed the stone and watched as the gate closed around him. He found himself stood on the scorched grass outside the ruin still clutching the stone. He returned to the Univerisity to study the stone, it was this stone that he used to enchant his necklace. It was when he returned that he learned of the death of the previous Arch-Mage Traven his close friend and his succession by a previously unknown, Athell was angered by this mage's seemingly impossible rise through the ranks of the guild, especially after he had spent so long working his way up through the guild. He left the Guild and fell in with a group of Necromancers and learnt the secrets to their profane art, his actions eventually caught the attention of the local guardsmen and his was forced to flee the area, he eventually ended up in the small village of Water's Edge, all but forgotten by the Law.
Personality and mental status: Typical haughty Altmer. Holds a grudge against the Mages Guild and its new Arch-Mage almost to the point of irrationality, he loved the previous Arch-Mage and he percieved his lack of trust as betrayal, which scarred him so deeply he can no longer stand any reference to the guild and it's members. His time with the Necromancers hardened him and made him sour and bitter inside.
----------------------------------------
Galvon Sethran-Dagoth played by rockmaul
Spoiler
Name: Galvon Sethran(Dagoth, though unknown at first)
Race: Dunmer (Dark Elf)
Age: 34
Birthsign: The Shadow
Class: Bouyant Armiger
Master Skills: Destruction
Expert Skills: Blade, Speechcraft
Journeyman Skills: Light Armor, Sneak
Apprentice Skills: Athletics, Restoration, Marksman
Novice Skills: Everything else.
Background
Description
Race: Dunmer (Dark Elf)
Age: 34
Birthsign: The Shadow
Class: Bouyant Armiger
Master Skills: Destruction
Expert Skills: Blade, Speechcraft
Journeyman Skills: Light Armor, Sneak
Apprentice Skills: Athletics, Restoration, Marksman
Novice Skills: Everything else.
Background
Spoiler
Galvon started out as a normal Dunmer, born and raised in the city of Almalexia. His family, as far as he could tell, was unremarkable; it wasn't a Great House nor allied with any. They were just a bunch of merchants that did quite a bit of traveling. Young Galvon never caught on to the merchant buisiness, and instead was able to quickly get into the world of politics.
At about the age of 10, and after spending several years trying to get into politics, Galvon was chosen by a High Ordinator to be trained as one, and also to join House Indoril. Galvon was about to start training as an Ordinator, a member of the Order of War to be exact, though something got in the way.
Galvon, starting at a young age, began to recieve odd dreams, dreams of Red Mountain, and of a figure wearing a golden mask. These dreams are similar to those recieved by some calling themselves "sleepers", though Galvon was different. For some reason, he was able to resist the dreams. That was, until Galvon traveled to Vvardenfell to begin his training.
Every step that Galvon took that brought him closer to Red Mountain seemed like a great burden. He was not able to make it much futher than Vivec city without falling asleep, and the dreams grew more powerfull. Within several days in Vvardenfell, Galvon was close to falling victim to his dreams. However, just in time, Galvon was visited by the Bouyant Armiger Tidros Indaram, who had been ordered to take him to be training as a Bouyant Armiger. He gave Galvon a pendant that was supposedly blessed by Lord Vivec himself and was to be given to the young boy. The dreams did not stop, but they became less strong, and Galvon made the journey to Molag Mar.
Galvon was quickly trained in the craft of the Bouyant Armigers, and by the age of 18 he was fully-trained and ready to begin his work. While in Molag Mar, Galvon also became a novice of the Tribunal Temple, though he was not allowed to travel past the Ghostfence, keeping him from conducting several of the pilgrimages.
For many years, Galvon spent his time protecting pilgrims, helping the Great Houses, and dealing with necromancers, vampires, and the like. He quickly rose to fame, and even was asked to visit Vivec and Almalexia once or twice. Vivec seemed to have an interest in Galvon.
There was one mission that changed Galvon forever. Given by Lord Vivec himself, Galvon was tasked with finding and destroying the Dissident Priests. He did spend several years trying to find these priests, and was struck with doubt the whole time. It almost seemed that they were right about the Tribunal. However, Galvon remained pious and refused to accept any of the priests’ teachings. When Galvon finally found the Dissident Priests, he attempted to bring them all to justice. After losing a duel with one of the priests, Galvon let the priests go, but only after they had been able to cast doubt upon the Tribunal, and on to Lord Vivec. Galvon soon after left the Bouyant Armigers, and tried to find the truth about his “gods”.
Galvon was near Ghostgate when the Nerevarine traveled to Red Mountain to defeat the Sixth House. He had one last dream, one last plea from Dagoth Ur to travel to his stronghold and join him against Nerevar. Soon after, Galvon was struck with a sudden feeling of pain, as if his heart was being ripped out of his chest.
The Dunmer left Vvardenfell, and a few days after arriving on the mainland, he was approached by a messenger from Almalexia. The goddess wished to meet with him privately. And so he traveled to her city, and met with her. Almalexia made an offer to Galvon, that he could become her consort and the new king of Morrowind if he aided in “capturing” the Nerevarine. To Galvon, this was the last piece of evidence of the Tribunal’s corruption, and refused, barely escaping with his life.
Galvon traveled for several years after that, but once was brought back to the city of Vivec for answers. He was able to get into the temple of the “god”, and was stunned after finding that Vivec was not there. One of the few things remaining was a ring that transported Galvon to the clockwork city of Sotha Sil, where he was further confused when he saw the dead bodies of Sotha Sil and Almalexia.
Currently, Galvon took up a life of adventuring, trying to find the real answers. By chance, his journeys had brought him to the town of Water’s Edge, where he spent a week or so relaxing from his ventures.
At about the age of 10, and after spending several years trying to get into politics, Galvon was chosen by a High Ordinator to be trained as one, and also to join House Indoril. Galvon was about to start training as an Ordinator, a member of the Order of War to be exact, though something got in the way.
Galvon, starting at a young age, began to recieve odd dreams, dreams of Red Mountain, and of a figure wearing a golden mask. These dreams are similar to those recieved by some calling themselves "sleepers", though Galvon was different. For some reason, he was able to resist the dreams. That was, until Galvon traveled to Vvardenfell to begin his training.
Every step that Galvon took that brought him closer to Red Mountain seemed like a great burden. He was not able to make it much futher than Vivec city without falling asleep, and the dreams grew more powerfull. Within several days in Vvardenfell, Galvon was close to falling victim to his dreams. However, just in time, Galvon was visited by the Bouyant Armiger Tidros Indaram, who had been ordered to take him to be training as a Bouyant Armiger. He gave Galvon a pendant that was supposedly blessed by Lord Vivec himself and was to be given to the young boy. The dreams did not stop, but they became less strong, and Galvon made the journey to Molag Mar.
Galvon was quickly trained in the craft of the Bouyant Armigers, and by the age of 18 he was fully-trained and ready to begin his work. While in Molag Mar, Galvon also became a novice of the Tribunal Temple, though he was not allowed to travel past the Ghostfence, keeping him from conducting several of the pilgrimages.
For many years, Galvon spent his time protecting pilgrims, helping the Great Houses, and dealing with necromancers, vampires, and the like. He quickly rose to fame, and even was asked to visit Vivec and Almalexia once or twice. Vivec seemed to have an interest in Galvon.
There was one mission that changed Galvon forever. Given by Lord Vivec himself, Galvon was tasked with finding and destroying the Dissident Priests. He did spend several years trying to find these priests, and was struck with doubt the whole time. It almost seemed that they were right about the Tribunal. However, Galvon remained pious and refused to accept any of the priests’ teachings. When Galvon finally found the Dissident Priests, he attempted to bring them all to justice. After losing a duel with one of the priests, Galvon let the priests go, but only after they had been able to cast doubt upon the Tribunal, and on to Lord Vivec. Galvon soon after left the Bouyant Armigers, and tried to find the truth about his “gods”.
Galvon was near Ghostgate when the Nerevarine traveled to Red Mountain to defeat the Sixth House. He had one last dream, one last plea from Dagoth Ur to travel to his stronghold and join him against Nerevar. Soon after, Galvon was struck with a sudden feeling of pain, as if his heart was being ripped out of his chest.
The Dunmer left Vvardenfell, and a few days after arriving on the mainland, he was approached by a messenger from Almalexia. The goddess wished to meet with him privately. And so he traveled to her city, and met with her. Almalexia made an offer to Galvon, that he could become her consort and the new king of Morrowind if he aided in “capturing” the Nerevarine. To Galvon, this was the last piece of evidence of the Tribunal’s corruption, and refused, barely escaping with his life.
Galvon traveled for several years after that, but once was brought back to the city of Vivec for answers. He was able to get into the temple of the “god”, and was stunned after finding that Vivec was not there. One of the few things remaining was a ring that transported Galvon to the clockwork city of Sotha Sil, where he was further confused when he saw the dead bodies of Sotha Sil and Almalexia.
Currently, Galvon took up a life of adventuring, trying to find the real answers. By chance, his journeys had brought him to the town of Water’s Edge, where he spent a week or so relaxing from his ventures.
Description
Spoiler
Galvon stands at a little over 6 feet tall and is of average build. He has long black hair and several tattoos on his face similar to those of Ashlanders.
The Dunmer is usually seen in his chitin armor. While he has a helmat, Galvon prefers to wear a black scarf covering his lower face instead. While not in armor, he wears some common Morrowind cloths, hinting at his past in the province. Around his neck he still wears the pendant given to him by Vivec depicting the symbol of the Tribunal.
Barely escaping Almalexia after refusing her bargin, Galvon traveled away from Morrowind, finding himself in Cyrodiil. In Cheydinhal, to be exact. He did several freelance jobs for the citizens and sometimes for the nobles, as well as clearing out some of the ruins. For several years he continued this way of life, traveling across Cyrodiil and also visiting Hammerfell, Skyrim, High Rock, Valenwood, and Elsweyr.
Galvon was in Skyrim when the Oblivion Crisis began. While he was exploring the province he stumbled across a gate to Oblivion. Galvon fought off the daedra outside of the gate and decided to investigate further. After several hours, he finally made it to the sigil tower and, through luck, shut the gate by removing the sigil stone. Galvon then continued exploring, trying to find an answer to why these gates started to appear. He found himself in Morrowind again, where he was able to make it to Vvardenfell in time to help with the Battle of Ald' Ruhn, durring which he entered the gates and helped try and close them, but the city was destroyed. After closing a gate outside of Vivec, Galvon entered the palace of Vivec (see the background).
He ended up traveling to Black Marsh also during the Crisis, where he beat several of the Argonains to closing some of the gates, but fate brought him back to Cyrodiil. He helped close many Oblivion gates around the southern and eastern cities, and was able to figure out that the Mythic Dawn were behind the gates opening. Galvon was fighting the daedra outside of the gate north of Water's Edge when Dagon attacked the Imperial City, and the gate closed before Galvon had the chance to enter it, since Dagon had supposedly been beaten by Martin Septim.
During the time followind the Crisis, Galvon again spent his time exploring Tamriel, mainly Cyrodiil. While there were not many dangerous places around the town of Water's Edge, Galvon spent some time working out of the place in between ventures. Even though the Dunmer had turned his life around, he was still haunted by his past. He could not stop thinking about the Tribunal, and of Dagoth Ur. While he still had dreams of Dagoth Ur, they were just memories of previous ones. One day, Galvon sweared, he would find the truth to it all, to the Tribunal, and to his dreams
In terms of weapons, Galvon carries with him a chitin shortsword and dagger on his belt. Along his back the man carries a chitin bow with a mix of chitin and steel arrows in a quiver.
The Dunmer is usually seen in his chitin armor. While he has a helmat, Galvon prefers to wear a black scarf covering his lower face instead. While not in armor, he wears some common Morrowind cloths, hinting at his past in the province. Around his neck he still wears the pendant given to him by Vivec depicting the symbol of the Tribunal.
Barely escaping Almalexia after refusing her bargin, Galvon traveled away from Morrowind, finding himself in Cyrodiil. In Cheydinhal, to be exact. He did several freelance jobs for the citizens and sometimes for the nobles, as well as clearing out some of the ruins. For several years he continued this way of life, traveling across Cyrodiil and also visiting Hammerfell, Skyrim, High Rock, Valenwood, and Elsweyr.
Galvon was in Skyrim when the Oblivion Crisis began. While he was exploring the province he stumbled across a gate to Oblivion. Galvon fought off the daedra outside of the gate and decided to investigate further. After several hours, he finally made it to the sigil tower and, through luck, shut the gate by removing the sigil stone. Galvon then continued exploring, trying to find an answer to why these gates started to appear. He found himself in Morrowind again, where he was able to make it to Vvardenfell in time to help with the Battle of Ald' Ruhn, durring which he entered the gates and helped try and close them, but the city was destroyed. After closing a gate outside of Vivec, Galvon entered the palace of Vivec (see the background).
He ended up traveling to Black Marsh also during the Crisis, where he beat several of the Argonains to closing some of the gates, but fate brought him back to Cyrodiil. He helped close many Oblivion gates around the southern and eastern cities, and was able to figure out that the Mythic Dawn were behind the gates opening. Galvon was fighting the daedra outside of the gate north of Water's Edge when Dagon attacked the Imperial City, and the gate closed before Galvon had the chance to enter it, since Dagon had supposedly been beaten by Martin Septim.
During the time followind the Crisis, Galvon again spent his time exploring Tamriel, mainly Cyrodiil. While there were not many dangerous places around the town of Water's Edge, Galvon spent some time working out of the place in between ventures. Even though the Dunmer had turned his life around, he was still haunted by his past. He could not stop thinking about the Tribunal, and of Dagoth Ur. While he still had dreams of Dagoth Ur, they were just memories of previous ones. One day, Galvon sweared, he would find the truth to it all, to the Tribunal, and to his dreams
In terms of weapons, Galvon carries with him a chitin shortsword and dagger on his belt. Along his back the man carries a chitin bow with a mix of chitin and steel arrows in a quiver.
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Doran played by Erasmos
Spoiler
Name: Doran
Race: Bosmer
Age: Appears 20's
Gender: Male
Sign: The Atronach
Physical Appearance: Doran is very tall, for a bosmer, reaching 5ft 8. His skin is extremely pale, even for a bosmer, although this is due to prolonged time away from sunlight. He has short black hair which is moved to half cover his pointed ears. He has bright blue eyes which are covered with dark goggles taken from a dark brotherhood helmet. He is very skinny and not muscular at all, his leg was damaged at birth and so he isn't as quick as his brethren. He is often mistaked, when sighted, for a small Altmer.
Mental Description: Doran is a very skittish man, his mind is constantly trying to think of different solutions to his problems. Anger is not an emotion felt by him, which is a double edged sword, in a fight he is not very useful. He often does not think about other people or care about their opinions as he has never had to cope with others often, he oftens angers them with his offhand comments and his skittish nature. He believes war is foolish and that it doesn't help the races advance, however his latest creation to use soul energy is to be a deadly weapon.
Skills: Doran is a master of mysticism and a journeyman at the art of alteration, he is devoted to using souls to enhance the lives of the citizens of Nirn.
Weapons: He carries a rusty dagger and not much else.
Armor: Doran wears cloth clothing, not caring much about appearances. The only strange thing he wears are dark goggles taken from the helmet of an old dark brotherhood helmet.
Misc items: He carries a belt with pouches, inside each is a soul gem.
History: Doran was always 'strange', he was born in the city of Arenthia but after his parents realised he did not belong with others of his kind, moved to Cyrodiil. Doran grew up in the Imperial City with a wide variety of races, there he was known as the Alsmer as very few people believed he could be a Bosmer. He often felt like an Outcast, even in the Imperial City. Due to being shunned by the other children he slowly learned to enjoy his own company and soon lived only in his room, studying magical texts. His father tried to make him enjoy things normal bosmer would enjoy, often giving him bows and once offered to take him to a special meeting for thieves but Doran was not interested.
The final straw came one day when Dorans father, Salidor, took him out to 'hunt'. The tall bosmer was forced into it by both parents and they began to explore the woods near the city. There they hunted for a few hours, before Doran got particularly angry after his father called him a slow, clumsy excuse for an elf when he tripped and alerted half the woods to their presence. He got so angry that he decided to try a spell he had been studying for years, a spell which would use up all of his magical energy and exhaust him. His father had been very annoyed with the lack of care his son possessed that he turned to punch him and at the same moment Doran completed the spell and vanished. His father would never know what would become of the boy. He appeared at a temple in Balmora, Vvardenfell.
The poor boy was so shocked and tired he collapsed, right there in the centre of the temple. It was there he stayed for five years and developed his skills in magic further without judgement, until he was told about the shrine to Malacath and was sent of a mission to destroy it by the temple. He arrived at the shrine and was shocked to find there were people and not daedric monsters, they spoke to him about Malacath and he joined them. He always felt like an outcast and this was the perfect place for him. He lived there for years and fell in love with a young (for an Altmer anyway) elf named Rosalyn. She told him about souls and the power that they have and that perhaps they could be used to bring a loved one back from the dead. They studied them together for years until the temple decided they had enough of the cult and sent another man to deal with them, a man who killed Rosalyn right in front of him, just before teleporting away, he quickly soul trapped Rosalyns soul inside a large black soulgem. Doran found himself in the very temple who had killed his men and with fire in his eyes, set fire to it. He always carries the souls of Rosalyn with him now, wherever he goes, however the soulgem seems to be slowly stealing his soul as well..
He then fled to the mages of Telvanni and found a temporary home with the great mage Divayth Fyr in Tel Fyr. There he studied with the wizened mage, the powers of souls. It became his obsession to use them to bring back the dead, he knew the faults with necromancy and black soulgems but he began to learn about alternatives to them. It was during this time that he aquired the goggles that he wears constantly, after Divayth was attacked by a brotherhood member and allowed Doran to look over the armour. He also began studying diseases, especially interested in the Corprus disease that Tel Fyr helped sufferers with. Some say he was key to helping Divayth develop the cure, however after he decided to leave all remains of him being there were destroyed.
He now plans on using his studies of the souls to do the impossible, to create machines that harness this power for the greater good, similar to what the Dwemer did in the past.
Race: Bosmer
Age: Appears 20's
Gender: Male
Sign: The Atronach
Physical Appearance: Doran is very tall, for a bosmer, reaching 5ft 8. His skin is extremely pale, even for a bosmer, although this is due to prolonged time away from sunlight. He has short black hair which is moved to half cover his pointed ears. He has bright blue eyes which are covered with dark goggles taken from a dark brotherhood helmet. He is very skinny and not muscular at all, his leg was damaged at birth and so he isn't as quick as his brethren. He is often mistaked, when sighted, for a small Altmer.
Mental Description: Doran is a very skittish man, his mind is constantly trying to think of different solutions to his problems. Anger is not an emotion felt by him, which is a double edged sword, in a fight he is not very useful. He often does not think about other people or care about their opinions as he has never had to cope with others often, he oftens angers them with his offhand comments and his skittish nature. He believes war is foolish and that it doesn't help the races advance, however his latest creation to use soul energy is to be a deadly weapon.
Skills: Doran is a master of mysticism and a journeyman at the art of alteration, he is devoted to using souls to enhance the lives of the citizens of Nirn.
Weapons: He carries a rusty dagger and not much else.
Armor: Doran wears cloth clothing, not caring much about appearances. The only strange thing he wears are dark goggles taken from the helmet of an old dark brotherhood helmet.
Misc items: He carries a belt with pouches, inside each is a soul gem.
History: Doran was always 'strange', he was born in the city of Arenthia but after his parents realised he did not belong with others of his kind, moved to Cyrodiil. Doran grew up in the Imperial City with a wide variety of races, there he was known as the Alsmer as very few people believed he could be a Bosmer. He often felt like an Outcast, even in the Imperial City. Due to being shunned by the other children he slowly learned to enjoy his own company and soon lived only in his room, studying magical texts. His father tried to make him enjoy things normal bosmer would enjoy, often giving him bows and once offered to take him to a special meeting for thieves but Doran was not interested.
The final straw came one day when Dorans father, Salidor, took him out to 'hunt'. The tall bosmer was forced into it by both parents and they began to explore the woods near the city. There they hunted for a few hours, before Doran got particularly angry after his father called him a slow, clumsy excuse for an elf when he tripped and alerted half the woods to their presence. He got so angry that he decided to try a spell he had been studying for years, a spell which would use up all of his magical energy and exhaust him. His father had been very annoyed with the lack of care his son possessed that he turned to punch him and at the same moment Doran completed the spell and vanished. His father would never know what would become of the boy. He appeared at a temple in Balmora, Vvardenfell.
The poor boy was so shocked and tired he collapsed, right there in the centre of the temple. It was there he stayed for five years and developed his skills in magic further without judgement, until he was told about the shrine to Malacath and was sent of a mission to destroy it by the temple. He arrived at the shrine and was shocked to find there were people and not daedric monsters, they spoke to him about Malacath and he joined them. He always felt like an outcast and this was the perfect place for him. He lived there for years and fell in love with a young (for an Altmer anyway) elf named Rosalyn. She told him about souls and the power that they have and that perhaps they could be used to bring a loved one back from the dead. They studied them together for years until the temple decided they had enough of the cult and sent another man to deal with them, a man who killed Rosalyn right in front of him, just before teleporting away, he quickly soul trapped Rosalyns soul inside a large black soulgem. Doran found himself in the very temple who had killed his men and with fire in his eyes, set fire to it. He always carries the souls of Rosalyn with him now, wherever he goes, however the soulgem seems to be slowly stealing his soul as well..
He then fled to the mages of Telvanni and found a temporary home with the great mage Divayth Fyr in Tel Fyr. There he studied with the wizened mage, the powers of souls. It became his obsession to use them to bring back the dead, he knew the faults with necromancy and black soulgems but he began to learn about alternatives to them. It was during this time that he aquired the goggles that he wears constantly, after Divayth was attacked by a brotherhood member and allowed Doran to look over the armour. He also began studying diseases, especially interested in the Corprus disease that Tel Fyr helped sufferers with. Some say he was key to helping Divayth develop the cure, however after he decided to leave all remains of him being there were destroyed.
He now plans on using his studies of the souls to do the impossible, to create machines that harness this power for the greater good, similar to what the Dwemer did in the past.
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Aliera Commena played by Ikosahedron
Spoiler
Aliera Commena
Imperial Female
Age 29
The Atronach
Class: Marauder
Master Skill: Heavy Armor
Expert Skills: Long Blade, Armorer
Journeyman Skills: Block, Speechcraft, Athletics, Alchemy
Apprentice Skills: Acrobatics, Mercantile, Marksman
History
Description
Imperial Female
Age 29
The Atronach
Class: Marauder
Master Skill: Heavy Armor
Expert Skills: Long Blade, Armorer
Journeyman Skills: Block, Speechcraft, Athletics, Alchemy
Apprentice Skills: Acrobatics, Mercantile, Marksman
History
Spoiler
Aliera was born to the Elder Councillor Deimus Commenus, not as his first child, but as the first of his children to reach age six. She was groomed to inherit her father's seat on the council and received all the training and education needed for such a task. However, when she was sixteen, her little brother had also escaped the clutches of infant mortality and replaced her as designated heir. Unwilling to accept this, Aliera left home to find her own fortune and carve out a name and title for herself. She first hired on as a mercenary guard on a trading expedition to Elsweyr. On the return trip through the desert, the relationship with the native Khajiit soured and it became thoroughly unpleasant. Aliera was left with a distaste for beast races from this endeavor, as well as some funds to start her own mercenary company. Back in Leyawiin she employed some of her fellow guards as well as new talent on a secret task from the local countess: Expansion of county Leyawiin into nearby Black Marsh.
This task turned out to be a journey to Oblivion, as the swamp, native wildlife, rival mercenaries, Argonians and Dunmer slavers created a maelstrom of violence her fledgling company could not endure. Her associates died or deserted one by one as the violence she used to achieve her task escalated. Finally, she decided to abandon her contract with the countess and restore her battered finances to enable another attempt to become powerful enough to be on the Elder Council. Fortunately, her company had come into the possession of a Hist tree and uprooted it. They tried to smuggle it out of the province, but had to settle for selling it to a rival company when their numbers were thinned too far. Unfortunately, the rival company ambushed them and Aliera was left as the sole survivor.
Returning to Leyawiin, Aliera heard a rumor that took her all the way to Morrowind in order to tie up a loose end from her original expedition to Elsweyr. The journey took place during the Oblivion crisis, although Aliera had no notable part in that conflict.
Upon her return, she found the Hist she had sought to trade destroyed along with the Blackwood company. Following the story of that rival company's accomplishments, Aliera traveled to Water's Edge.
This task turned out to be a journey to Oblivion, as the swamp, native wildlife, rival mercenaries, Argonians and Dunmer slavers created a maelstrom of violence her fledgling company could not endure. Her associates died or deserted one by one as the violence she used to achieve her task escalated. Finally, she decided to abandon her contract with the countess and restore her battered finances to enable another attempt to become powerful enough to be on the Elder Council. Fortunately, her company had come into the possession of a Hist tree and uprooted it. They tried to smuggle it out of the province, but had to settle for selling it to a rival company when their numbers were thinned too far. Unfortunately, the rival company ambushed them and Aliera was left as the sole survivor.
Returning to Leyawiin, Aliera heard a rumor that took her all the way to Morrowind in order to tie up a loose end from her original expedition to Elsweyr. The journey took place during the Oblivion crisis, although Aliera had no notable part in that conflict.
Upon her return, she found the Hist she had sought to trade destroyed along with the Blackwood company. Following the story of that rival company's accomplishments, Aliera traveled to Water's Edge.
Description
Spoiler
Aliera is always clad in her exquisite ebony armor, which was custom made for her when she was to inherit her father's title. It is deep black and lacks most of the decoration of ordinary ebony armor. It is full plate and is designed to offer protection rather than looks. She stands five feet nine inches tall, her build is muscular, her skin pale, her brown hair shoulder length and her eyes are grey-green. There are few scars on her body, due to her armor, but she is missing a front tooth from a brawl. Her usual weapon is an ebony longsword that goes with her armor. It is unusually long, being close to a bastard sword in size, and rather more lightweight and slender than Cyrodiilic ebony swords usually are.
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Daniella played by Glass Warhammer
Spoiler
Name: Daniella
Age: 29
Race: Breton
Class: Hunter
Skills;
Master: Marksman
Expert: Alchemy, Conjuration
Journeyman: Blade, Sneak, Acrobatics, Athletics
Apprentice: Mercantile, Security, Speechcraft
Strengths: Agility, Speed, Intelligence, Personality
History: Her mother was killed by bears when she was young and the family were travelling home from a visit to the Imperial City. She was brought up by her father, an ex-Guild mage who left to start a family. He died when she was sixteen after discovering a robbery at the Mages Guild and she chose to leave Leyawiin and civilisation in general, the memories too painful to face back then, although she's able to go anywhere in Leyawiin now, even her old home that she spends time in if she spends a night in Leyawiin. As she was inexperienced and weak at first she had to go out in short trips outside the city walls until she became strong enough to survive for weeks, even months at a time. By trial and error and probably quite a lot of luck she taught herself to survive, what was good to eat and what could be dumped into a potion to sell next time she found a city. Her experimentation with potions led her to discover how to make quite a wide range of powerful potions, mostly poisons she admits, her only other alchemical interests being in healing her wounds and restoring her magicka. She spent the intervening thirteen years spending as much time as she could away from civilization but is certainly not shy of people. After a quick trip home to Leyawiin to sell things she had claimed from bandits she passes through the village of Water's Edge where she noticed a lot more adventurers around than usual. Curious, she goes over to investigate.
Equipment: A Dwemer bow she took from a bandit camp she emptied near Skingrad two years ago, roughly a hundred random arrows she has claimed from any archers who ultimately only helped her become as powerful with the bow as she is now. Aside from that, at the moment she only has her novice mortar and pestle, three restore health potions, one restore magicka potion, three damage health poison and two of a special brew she calls 'Magebane', a poison made from bergamot seeds, harrada, fennel seeds and wisp stalk caps that damages the target's health, magicka and intelligence as well as paralyzing and silencing them.
Looks: Slightly odd looking but not ugly, she has an upturned nose and a pale face with strangely shaped, slanted blue eyes. Her blonde hair hasn't been cut for over a decade and is now long enough for her to accidentally sit on which she does, a lot. It's surprisingly neat, which she says is because the weight of it all keeps it straight. She wears a green tunic, skirt and shoes to help her blend in with the forest.
Personality: Quiet but not shy, she can hold a conversation well, she just became used to not making noise unless she needed to. She is apparently infinitely patient, she can spend hours waiting for targets to wander into just the right spot for her to shoot them dead or waiting for shopkeepers to realise that yes, this item is worth more gold. She dislikes wearing armour, having tried it when she was younger but never getting the hang of it. She prefers to rely on stealth and speed to avoid or run from enemies. In an emergency she will summon a bound claymore and some daedra to act as a distraction, usually an oddly well behaved Spider Daedra she learned to summon last year.
Age: 29
Race: Breton
Class: Hunter
Skills;
Master: Marksman
Expert: Alchemy, Conjuration
Journeyman: Blade, Sneak, Acrobatics, Athletics
Apprentice: Mercantile, Security, Speechcraft
Strengths: Agility, Speed, Intelligence, Personality
History: Her mother was killed by bears when she was young and the family were travelling home from a visit to the Imperial City. She was brought up by her father, an ex-Guild mage who left to start a family. He died when she was sixteen after discovering a robbery at the Mages Guild and she chose to leave Leyawiin and civilisation in general, the memories too painful to face back then, although she's able to go anywhere in Leyawiin now, even her old home that she spends time in if she spends a night in Leyawiin. As she was inexperienced and weak at first she had to go out in short trips outside the city walls until she became strong enough to survive for weeks, even months at a time. By trial and error and probably quite a lot of luck she taught herself to survive, what was good to eat and what could be dumped into a potion to sell next time she found a city. Her experimentation with potions led her to discover how to make quite a wide range of powerful potions, mostly poisons she admits, her only other alchemical interests being in healing her wounds and restoring her magicka. She spent the intervening thirteen years spending as much time as she could away from civilization but is certainly not shy of people. After a quick trip home to Leyawiin to sell things she had claimed from bandits she passes through the village of Water's Edge where she noticed a lot more adventurers around than usual. Curious, she goes over to investigate.
Equipment: A Dwemer bow she took from a bandit camp she emptied near Skingrad two years ago, roughly a hundred random arrows she has claimed from any archers who ultimately only helped her become as powerful with the bow as she is now. Aside from that, at the moment she only has her novice mortar and pestle, three restore health potions, one restore magicka potion, three damage health poison and two of a special brew she calls 'Magebane', a poison made from bergamot seeds, harrada, fennel seeds and wisp stalk caps that damages the target's health, magicka and intelligence as well as paralyzing and silencing them.
Looks: Slightly odd looking but not ugly, she has an upturned nose and a pale face with strangely shaped, slanted blue eyes. Her blonde hair hasn't been cut for over a decade and is now long enough for her to accidentally sit on which she does, a lot. It's surprisingly neat, which she says is because the weight of it all keeps it straight. She wears a green tunic, skirt and shoes to help her blend in with the forest.
Personality: Quiet but not shy, she can hold a conversation well, she just became used to not making noise unless she needed to. She is apparently infinitely patient, she can spend hours waiting for targets to wander into just the right spot for her to shoot them dead or waiting for shopkeepers to realise that yes, this item is worth more gold. She dislikes wearing armour, having tried it when she was younger but never getting the hang of it. She prefers to rely on stealth and speed to avoid or run from enemies. In an emergency she will summon a bound claymore and some daedra to act as a distraction, usually an oddly well behaved Spider Daedra she learned to summon last year.
----------------------------------------
Jakundr played by AyumiFan
Spoiler
Jakundr
Gender: Male
Race: Nord
Age: 28
Birthsign: The Ritual
Skills: He is a master of acting and writing, and he speaks multiple languages flawlessly. He is extremely agile and quick on his feet. He is also quite skilled at handling a sword, but only on stage where the fight has been planned and practiced beforehand. He never really needed to know how to fight off the stage so he never got any serious training on the matter.
Weapons: He does not carry any weapons with him but he does own a light rapier and some highly decorative daggers that he received as presents from wealthy fans.
Physical description: Jakundr stands at 5’11”. He has the lean and agile body of an acrobat. His hair is chestnut brown with hints of auburn in it. It is long and wavy and the longest parts reach the middle of his back. His face carries the distinctive features of the Nord race. Pale skin, a strong jaw and straight nose with a slight bump. His deep blue eyes are framed by dark lashes. He is considered to be very handsome.
Outfit: His current favorite outfit is inspired by the clothes worn by the upper class in North-Western Valenwood. He wears a royal blue vest with silver buttons over a snow white poet’s shirt, along with black breeches held up with a dark brown leather belt. He wears fashionable leather boots and his knee-long coat. His coat is tyrian purple with gold patterns swirling down the left side.
Mental description: Jakundr is a polite young man that is never too busy to help those less fortunate. When traveling the roads he will gladly stop to help a farmer drag his wagon out of the mud. Jakundr treats everyone with respect, be it a noble, a beggar, a thief or even a necromancer. He is always cheery and carries a smile on his face unless there’s something troubling him.
Inventory: He always carries a small notebook and writing supplies in his pockets along with a money satchel. He also carries a small box filled with smoke bombs that produces colourful smoke in case he puts up a little show in the spur of the moment.
His house carriage is filled with all of his belongings. Costumes, props and bound plays share the small space together with everyday clothing, gear, food and a narrow bed.
History: Jakundr grew up on his parents’ potato farm just outside Chorrol. His favorite pastime was to make up stories that he told to his best friend as they ran around the forest and played in the sunlight. He showed great talent and creativity as an artist and his parents decided to save up the money to send Jakundr to Rihad in Hammerfell to attend an acting academy. He left Chorrol at the age of 14 and when he reached the age of 22 he had finished his training to become an actor and had joined an acting troupe traveling south along the coastline. The acting troupe became a big hit wherever they went. Most of the plays performed by them were written by Jakundr. Not soon after Jakundr’s 25th birthday the troupe performed their last play in the city of Haven in Valenwood. They split up and everyone went their own way. Jakundr traveled north from settlement to settlement, entertaining the locals. He crossed the northern border and traveled to Skingrad where he starred in several plays. He quickly became popular with the upper class society and he made many friends. After spending ten months in Skingrad he decided to take a break from the stage life and focus more on his writing. He bought a small house carriage and two sturdy horses and left the city to travel the roads, looking for inspiration and peace to write.
Jakundr is well known among culture loving societies and many of his plays and stories have become best sellers in the big cities.
Gender: Male
Race: Nord
Age: 28
Birthsign: The Ritual
Skills: He is a master of acting and writing, and he speaks multiple languages flawlessly. He is extremely agile and quick on his feet. He is also quite skilled at handling a sword, but only on stage where the fight has been planned and practiced beforehand. He never really needed to know how to fight off the stage so he never got any serious training on the matter.
Weapons: He does not carry any weapons with him but he does own a light rapier and some highly decorative daggers that he received as presents from wealthy fans.
Physical description: Jakundr stands at 5’11”. He has the lean and agile body of an acrobat. His hair is chestnut brown with hints of auburn in it. It is long and wavy and the longest parts reach the middle of his back. His face carries the distinctive features of the Nord race. Pale skin, a strong jaw and straight nose with a slight bump. His deep blue eyes are framed by dark lashes. He is considered to be very handsome.
Outfit: His current favorite outfit is inspired by the clothes worn by the upper class in North-Western Valenwood. He wears a royal blue vest with silver buttons over a snow white poet’s shirt, along with black breeches held up with a dark brown leather belt. He wears fashionable leather boots and his knee-long coat. His coat is tyrian purple with gold patterns swirling down the left side.
Mental description: Jakundr is a polite young man that is never too busy to help those less fortunate. When traveling the roads he will gladly stop to help a farmer drag his wagon out of the mud. Jakundr treats everyone with respect, be it a noble, a beggar, a thief or even a necromancer. He is always cheery and carries a smile on his face unless there’s something troubling him.
Inventory: He always carries a small notebook and writing supplies in his pockets along with a money satchel. He also carries a small box filled with smoke bombs that produces colourful smoke in case he puts up a little show in the spur of the moment.
His house carriage is filled with all of his belongings. Costumes, props and bound plays share the small space together with everyday clothing, gear, food and a narrow bed.
History: Jakundr grew up on his parents’ potato farm just outside Chorrol. His favorite pastime was to make up stories that he told to his best friend as they ran around the forest and played in the sunlight. He showed great talent and creativity as an artist and his parents decided to save up the money to send Jakundr to Rihad in Hammerfell to attend an acting academy. He left Chorrol at the age of 14 and when he reached the age of 22 he had finished his training to become an actor and had joined an acting troupe traveling south along the coastline. The acting troupe became a big hit wherever they went. Most of the plays performed by them were written by Jakundr. Not soon after Jakundr’s 25th birthday the troupe performed their last play in the city of Haven in Valenwood. They split up and everyone went their own way. Jakundr traveled north from settlement to settlement, entertaining the locals. He crossed the northern border and traveled to Skingrad where he starred in several plays. He quickly became popular with the upper class society and he made many friends. After spending ten months in Skingrad he decided to take a break from the stage life and focus more on his writing. He bought a small house carriage and two sturdy horses and left the city to travel the roads, looking for inspiration and peace to write.
Jakundr is well known among culture loving societies and many of his plays and stories have become best sellers in the big cities.
Darrshan played by Scow2
Spoiler
Race: Khajiit - Slightly mutant Ohmes-Raht (But raised in High Rock)
six: Male
Age: 27
Birthsign: The Tower
Class: Adventurer-Archeaologist
Role: Skill-monkey, "Blink-tank", Ho-Yay
Master Skills: Archeology
Expert Skills: Acrobatics, Athletics, Mercantile (Appraisal and Bartering)
Journeyman Skills: Blade, Security, Sneak, Dodging
Apprentice Skills: Marksman, Light Armor, Speechcraft
Novice Skills: All others, slightly developed... almost as a Jack-of-All-Trades.
Weapons: Skysong - a hand-and-a-half sword with a broad, curved blade and single edge like a Tulwar, enchanted to have a bright rainbow trail behind it. The blade is silver, with steel-blue designs inside the broad blade.
He also has five boomerangs!
Clothing and Armor: His adventuring suit is pretty consistant: Durable leather pants, vest, reinforced skirt, and fedora, all dyed sky-blue with violet accents, and decorated with long, thin feathers with rainbow plumage from some of High Rock's more exotic creatures. Under the vest, he wears a light chainmail shirt, and under that, he wears a white, long-sleeve linen shirt. However, he's prone to spending large amounts of money when exchanging his more casual and formal outfits, as he has a strong sense of fashion and hates wearing the same thing too often. Or his experimental outfits prove to be too flimsy to stand up to more than a week of wear.
Phat Lewtz: He has a pretty sizeable leather backpack and a seperate satchel. Like the rest of his leather gear, they are dyed blue-and-purple, and sports rainbow-feathers. He generally holds long-term tools (Pick and spade heads, and a long enough handle) and larger gear in his backpack, while his satchel is full of notes, books, Aylied, Falmer, Dwemer, or other ancient artifacts, usually Welkynd stones and Dwemer coins. His cash is a mix of current and Ayleid coins: They have the exact same value, and with an infinite circulation life, it's not like they're going to become more rare as time goes on. He Carries an absurd number of books dealing with history and ruins, including The Ruins of Kemel Ze, Glories and Laments of the Ayleid Empire, and The High Fane, and Tamrielic Lore. He also possesses a Sigil Stone, as a souvenier from the Oblvion Crisis five years ago.
Physical Appearance: Darrshan stands at just under six feet, and he has a wiry, muscular body fitting for a warrior, dancer, and acrobat. He has a very striking fur pattern bearing an uncanny resemblance to that of Hammerfell's cheetahs, though the pattern is also shared by several of the Senche and Pahmer native to the plains of northern Elsweyr. Despite the omnipresent fur covering it, his face is more human than feline, with soft, elfeminate features. Despite the brightly-colored fur, his skin is jet black - noticable on his lips and under his nose, as well as visible on his palms, and the pads of his feet. On that last note, his feet differ from the standard Ohmes-Raht, instead resembling a significantly shortened version of the Suthay's digitigrade feet.
Personality: Very expressive and emotional, Darrshan has a tendency to be quite flamboyant in his behavior, and is undoubtably so in his choice of outfits. Despite his energy and lighthearted behavior, he's prone to suddenly withdrawing into himself timidly whenever anyone acknowledges his behavior, whether it's confronting him about it, or even playing along and encouraging him. He's a hobbiest dancer, of all sorts of types, and is prone to boasting about his skill and balance... until someone comments on it, at which point he usually clams up again. He can be very talkative, which proves to be as much a liability for him as it is an asset. Darrshan is also prone to being very vain about his appearance, especially when it comes to clothing. He has a tendency to lisp when excited about anything but travel, archeaology, or the dangers therein.
Background
six: Male
Age: 27
Birthsign: The Tower
Class: Adventurer-Archeaologist
Role: Skill-monkey, "Blink-tank", Ho-Yay
Master Skills: Archeology
Expert Skills: Acrobatics, Athletics, Mercantile (Appraisal and Bartering)
Journeyman Skills: Blade, Security, Sneak, Dodging
Apprentice Skills: Marksman, Light Armor, Speechcraft
Novice Skills: All others, slightly developed... almost as a Jack-of-All-Trades.
Weapons: Skysong - a hand-and-a-half sword with a broad, curved blade and single edge like a Tulwar, enchanted to have a bright rainbow trail behind it. The blade is silver, with steel-blue designs inside the broad blade.
He also has five boomerangs!
Clothing and Armor: His adventuring suit is pretty consistant: Durable leather pants, vest, reinforced skirt, and fedora, all dyed sky-blue with violet accents, and decorated with long, thin feathers with rainbow plumage from some of High Rock's more exotic creatures. Under the vest, he wears a light chainmail shirt, and under that, he wears a white, long-sleeve linen shirt. However, he's prone to spending large amounts of money when exchanging his more casual and formal outfits, as he has a strong sense of fashion and hates wearing the same thing too often. Or his experimental outfits prove to be too flimsy to stand up to more than a week of wear.
Phat Lewtz: He has a pretty sizeable leather backpack and a seperate satchel. Like the rest of his leather gear, they are dyed blue-and-purple, and sports rainbow-feathers. He generally holds long-term tools (Pick and spade heads, and a long enough handle) and larger gear in his backpack, while his satchel is full of notes, books, Aylied, Falmer, Dwemer, or other ancient artifacts, usually Welkynd stones and Dwemer coins. His cash is a mix of current and Ayleid coins: They have the exact same value, and with an infinite circulation life, it's not like they're going to become more rare as time goes on. He Carries an absurd number of books dealing with history and ruins, including The Ruins of Kemel Ze, Glories and Laments of the Ayleid Empire, and The High Fane, and Tamrielic Lore. He also possesses a Sigil Stone, as a souvenier from the Oblvion Crisis five years ago.
Physical Appearance: Darrshan stands at just under six feet, and he has a wiry, muscular body fitting for a warrior, dancer, and acrobat. He has a very striking fur pattern bearing an uncanny resemblance to that of Hammerfell's cheetahs, though the pattern is also shared by several of the Senche and Pahmer native to the plains of northern Elsweyr. Despite the omnipresent fur covering it, his face is more human than feline, with soft, elfeminate features. Despite the brightly-colored fur, his skin is jet black - noticable on his lips and under his nose, as well as visible on his palms, and the pads of his feet. On that last note, his feet differ from the standard Ohmes-Raht, instead resembling a significantly shortened version of the Suthay's digitigrade feet.
Personality: Very expressive and emotional, Darrshan has a tendency to be quite flamboyant in his behavior, and is undoubtably so in his choice of outfits. Despite his energy and lighthearted behavior, he's prone to suddenly withdrawing into himself timidly whenever anyone acknowledges his behavior, whether it's confronting him about it, or even playing along and encouraging him. He's a hobbiest dancer, of all sorts of types, and is prone to boasting about his skill and balance... until someone comments on it, at which point he usually clams up again. He can be very talkative, which proves to be as much a liability for him as it is an asset. Darrshan is also prone to being very vain about his appearance, especially when it comes to clothing. He has a tendency to lisp when excited about anything but travel, archeaology, or the dangers therein.
Background
Spoiler
Darrshan grew up and was raised in one of the Kingdom of Daggerfall's newer territories, the son of a Khajiit [censored], and only Azura knows his father. He didn't even bear a true Khajiit name, though some thought it sounded vaguely khajittish. Still, he managed to 'enjoy' a fairly quiet, mildly urban childhood, no different from any of his Breton friends in his hometown. However, he became restless as he matured, believing something to be wrong, different about him from his friends, aside from the obvious racial differences. After much broken trust and ruined friendships, Darrshan became socially reserved and withdrawn... but he hated the loneliness, and took to finding other ways to express and draw attention to himself to gain some facemile of a social life. It was hard to overlook a rainbow-colored cat, after all.
Yet, after never finding a way to fit into his hometown, or any society for that matter, he decided that he wouldn't need to settle down. Taking up the profession of "Adventurer", he initially sought to be a sword-for-hire... but there was nothing he could do the Fighter's Guild couldn't do better and cheaper. However, he did manage to find another market, after working for a few scholars in the Mage's Guild. The best secrets of Tamriel's history were hidden in the most dangerous places, and while the Fighter's guild did hire out bodyguards for expeditions, many scholars considered the risk to life to be too great even then. The cheetah-furred Khajiit loner decided to market his skills to these individuals, demonstrating education and curiousity that far surpassed any hired muscle.
For the next few years, Darrshan made his living as a proto-archaeologist, initially being paid to research ruins and dangerous locales, and selling the credit of his discoveries to more renowned scholars. He eventually advanced from "uncredited field researcher" to "freelance Correspondant" as his reputation and knowledge grew. However, scholars made a very niche market, and not a very lucridous one either... Few places had the resources and security to support the scholarly lifecycle, and even where there were such scholars, they tended to be rather broke from having to have to hire bodyguards or uncredited field researchers to make any profitable discoveries.
With his reputation, though, Darrshan eventually attracted the attention of wealthier, less academically-inclined clients: nobility and weathly merchants desiring the treasures of ancient civilizations, too impatient to wait for the Fighter's Guild and the freelance murder-hobos to stumble across them in haphazard adventures. With his knowledge of the older civilizations, Darrshan could find locations lost to time, and bring back wonderous relics that nobody else even had a hope of finding.
Eventually, he headed to the Imperial Province. Between the ruins scattered throughout the heartland of the old Aylied kingdoms and the resources of the Arcane University, Darrshan had no shortage of business, even with the competition of Claude Mauric and others like him. He nearly lost his life at the start of the Oblivion crisis, after infiltrating a group of cultists to slip into the ancient ruins buried under the Imperial City. It took a lot of very fast talking to convince a certain pissed-off Redguard of his innocence in the cult's activities, and ignorance of their motive and goals.
He's now a business partner with Herminia Cinna, after the regretable, terribly, terribly tragic death of his previous patron, Umbacano, on an expedition to finish research on the last king of the Ayleids. He's currently residing in Border Watch, torn between continuing to research the Ayleids east of the Topal River, or head west into Elsweyr. He goes between Border Watch and Water's Edge frequently, since both places are too depressing for him to stay for any amount of time.
Yet, after never finding a way to fit into his hometown, or any society for that matter, he decided that he wouldn't need to settle down. Taking up the profession of "Adventurer", he initially sought to be a sword-for-hire... but there was nothing he could do the Fighter's Guild couldn't do better and cheaper. However, he did manage to find another market, after working for a few scholars in the Mage's Guild. The best secrets of Tamriel's history were hidden in the most dangerous places, and while the Fighter's guild did hire out bodyguards for expeditions, many scholars considered the risk to life to be too great even then. The cheetah-furred Khajiit loner decided to market his skills to these individuals, demonstrating education and curiousity that far surpassed any hired muscle.
For the next few years, Darrshan made his living as a proto-archaeologist, initially being paid to research ruins and dangerous locales, and selling the credit of his discoveries to more renowned scholars. He eventually advanced from "uncredited field researcher" to "freelance Correspondant" as his reputation and knowledge grew. However, scholars made a very niche market, and not a very lucridous one either... Few places had the resources and security to support the scholarly lifecycle, and even where there were such scholars, they tended to be rather broke from having to have to hire bodyguards or uncredited field researchers to make any profitable discoveries.
With his reputation, though, Darrshan eventually attracted the attention of wealthier, less academically-inclined clients: nobility and weathly merchants desiring the treasures of ancient civilizations, too impatient to wait for the Fighter's Guild and the freelance murder-hobos to stumble across them in haphazard adventures. With his knowledge of the older civilizations, Darrshan could find locations lost to time, and bring back wonderous relics that nobody else even had a hope of finding.
Eventually, he headed to the Imperial Province. Between the ruins scattered throughout the heartland of the old Aylied kingdoms and the resources of the Arcane University, Darrshan had no shortage of business, even with the competition of Claude Mauric and others like him. He nearly lost his life at the start of the Oblivion crisis, after infiltrating a group of cultists to slip into the ancient ruins buried under the Imperial City. It took a lot of very fast talking to convince a certain pissed-off Redguard of his innocence in the cult's activities, and ignorance of their motive and goals.
He's now a business partner with Herminia Cinna, after the regretable, terribly, terribly tragic death of his previous patron, Umbacano, on an expedition to finish research on the last king of the Ayleids. He's currently residing in Border Watch, torn between continuing to research the Ayleids east of the Topal River, or head west into Elsweyr. He goes between Border Watch and Water's Edge frequently, since both places are too depressing for him to stay for any amount of time.
