The Story:

It has been over 8 years since the events on Solstheim, when Hircine, Daedra Prince of the Hunt vied to release his hounds on Tamriel. Nothing has changed, the Chosen Hunter, or Neverine as he was called, never defeated Hircine and the Prophecy came true. Lycanthropy spread at an alarming rate across Morrowind and parts of Skyrim in the first 9 months of the epidemic, packs of the lycanthropes roamed and attacked everything that was living and not infected already. Eventually, the Empire was so concerned that blockades were set and entire Legions were sent to the edges of Cyrodiil to protect the Empire and her Allies. But the disease, along with Hircines plan, came to fruition as a Daedric cult devoted to Hircine allowed themselves to be consumed by the virus and got through the Imperial blockades and began spreading the virus in the Heartland.

The virus spread to every province it could manage, Summerset Isle was left untouched however, the Altmer set up immense barriers of magick and ships, it is the last refuge in the Old Empire. Werewolves roam in packs, terrorizing and eating, while humanity is forced to take refuge wherever it can be found. The Bloodmoon is permanent, every night its red glow blankets Tamriel, and the Werewolves who could once change, are now in their animal forms 'til death, excluding those who are newly infected, but they endure worse pain. Brave groups of people roam and hunt the monsters who hunt them in turn, a sick game of cat and mouse. Many old cities and settlements still live, but they are now crowded, shabby, and frightening versions of their former glory.

Your Role:

We will play as the hunters, citizens, werewolves, and overall survivors of the Great Bloodmoon. Starting places will be on the Skyrim/Cyrodiil border. That's about it for your role, just imagine if this happened in our world.

Rules:

You should know them by now. There is nothing not permitted in this RP (it is my first created, but I have RPed before) but I will ask that if you want to play as a Werewolf, make sure you state that you are a new wolf otherwise you'd be a permanent one. Vampires and all that are fine. Also, no UBER characters, this is a scary world and you can be hardened, but not a total Werewolf [censored] hardass, or vice versa if you're a wolf.

Char sheet:

Name:
Age:
Race:
Gender:

Description: (Everything about your person, hair color, eyes, haircut, body structure, the works!)
Weapons: (Nothing ridiculously fancy. If it is, make sure you describe why in the Bio, like a family heirloom or a treasure you found somehow, make it believable)

Armor: (same as weapons)
Equipment: (Other things you carry, potions, food, drink, crap like that)

Bio: (Can be as long as you like but not over-the-top ridiculous. Explain how and why you are what you are and why you became what you are, be it wolf, hunter, or the like.)

And thats it, we'll get things going when we get 5 or more people. And since this is my first, tell me if I could make it better.

Okay guys, try and make a little more interesting characters, please. You starters are good, but you can do a LOT better, be more detailed and work on your backstory.

Characters So Far:

Me
Name: Endreg Ice-helm
Age: 36
Race: Nord
Gender: Male

Description: Long braided brown hair and short thick beard, blue eyes, pale skin. 6'7" and very muscular. Lots of Nordic tattoos.
Weapons: Nordic silver broadsword, very antiqued, and a bundle of silver tipped javelins.
Armor: regular cloth covered in a bear fur robe, with a steel hauberk on top. Then he wears his ancestral Skaal armor over this, with a Werewolf-head Helm finishing it off. Also carries a round-shield.
Equipment: A bottle of mead, a bundle of dried meat, and a bedroll.

Bio: Born a Skaal, Endreg saw the Bloodmoon take form. He and his clan left the island and became nomads as they were hunted all over Skyrim by the wolves. As time went on they made a fortress in the Jerall Mountains named "Skaal's Burrow". It became a refuge throughout the epidemic, but eventually the wolves found and laid siege. The refugees won, but many Skaal died and had to be burned. Endreg and his wife, Hekkate, became clan leaders and have been hunting the wolves ever since, and taking in any refugees.

Mr. Boom
Name:Isaac Merethil
Age:46
Race:Imperial
Gender:Male

Description: Short black hair, blood red eyes, very pale skin, fangs.
Weapons: A silver Katana
Armor: Black Chitin, with the exception of the mask.
Equipment: None

Bio:Isaac Merethil was once apart of a vampire clan that inhabited a fort in the mountains of Cyrodil, just above a farm town. When the disease spread into Cyrodil, his clan did there best to fight off the werewolves, but were killed by there own cattle, and the combination of both diseases. Isaac is one of the last twenty survivors, hungering every night for blood. Hiding every day for survival.

This figure may be doomed to turn insane, or he may be able to satate his thirst somehow.

long john

Name: John
Age: 21
Race: Nord
Gender: male

Description: John stands at six feet, seven inches and weighs only 160 lbs. He is much slimmer and not as muscular as most nords but manages to survive with above average intelligence and the fact that he's great with long swords and fairly good with a cross bow.

Weapons: A steel long sword and a cross bow.

Armor: Thick iron heavy armor made buy his uncle just for him.

Equipment: John carries a dozen potions of cure disease at all times to prevent infection and that's about it.

Bio: Born and raised in bruma and now one the few survivors left. John barricaded himself inside the basemant of his fathers iin, The North wind iin, just outside bruma were there is enough food, water, and a comfortable bed. When he found out the virus has made it's way to cyrodiil his family and most of friends fled the city. John however decided to stay at his fathers iin hidden in the basemant. So far he's never been in close range combat with a werewolf.


dertt33
Name: Ocrandas Nefnder
Age: 27
Race: Dunmer
Gender: Male

Description: Medium height (6 foot). He has tall spiky red hair and a Dunmer tattoo on his face, red eyes and he is also very in shape.

Weapons: He carries around an ebony dagger and a steel dai katana

Armor: He wears nothing but black leather (For he is afraid he may lose his armor when he turns into a werewolf.)

Bio: Ocrandas was born in Morrowind. He lived a peaceful life with his rich dad and his archmage mom. Eventually he got married to a beautiful Dunmer woman named Saradew Tarksonin. When the epidemic started The Werewolfs invaded Morrowind and as he was fighting one off he caught the disease. A few nights later he transformed into a werewolf and killed his wife without knowing it. He now hunts at night trying to feed off animals, not humans.

Tamriel V

Name: Barius Lartis
Age: 29
Race: Imperial
Gender: Male

Description: 6' 1", 180 pounds, deep brown hair, rather high voice for an Imperial. Is an Imperial guard.

Weapons: standard guard issue

Armor: standard guard issue

Bio: Barius is one of the few survivors left in Anvil since the dozens of werewolves attacked in the middle of the night. He and 10 other guards are holed up in the light house, and kill any werewolf that attempts to swim near. They have the goal of purging Anvil of the werewolf plague,, and opening up a ferry between there and summerset isles to evacuate those who didn't wanna stick around.

Veretta

Name: Ma'Amata, Amata [Ah-mah-tuh]
Age: 19
Race: Khajiit
Gender: Female
--
Description:
? Height: 5'2
? Body Type: Petite
? Eye Color: A Vibrant Violet
? Hair Type: Neck Length
? Hair Color: A Milky Brown
? Hair Style: Messy; Long Bangs
? Skin Color: Sandy-Colored Fur
? Class: Shadow Runner
? Class Focus: Stealth
? Class Description: Infiltration, saboteur, smuggling, recovery, intelligence gathering, spy networks, you name it, a Shadow Runner is able to do it. They are easily one of the best choices to use on reconnaissance-based missions.
? Birthsign: The Thief
? Useful Skills: Amazing acrobat and athlete, specializes in illusion and destructive based magick, excellent lock picker, and she can also weave a fine lie.
? General Appearance: Amata is very small, even for a Khajiit, but this is to her advantage. She has an extremely rare birthmark at the top of her head called the "Angel's Kiss" that causes a thin but notable streak of white hair down the left and right side of her head.
? Spells:

Assassin Rush ? A spell that propels Amata through a certain amount of space at high speeds. The amount of space traveled is based on the amount of magicka she is willing to use. The spell takes a lot out of her reserves so she does not use it excessively.

Conform ? A weak spell of invisibility that Amata can cast on her herself which causes her to imitate the textures of the elements surrounding her, similar to a chameleon.

Sparrows ? A spell that splits her arrows as they are propelled from her bow into three arrows. These arrows are enchanted with searing hot magicka. The spell takes a lot out of her reserves so she does not use it excessively.

? Current Mentality: Amata is now a peculiar and hardened young woman. She's extremely curious and, at times, can be childish and even greedy. Though she has her demons she still has a relatively stable mind for all she's been through. She can be somewhat ignorant when it comes to certain things.
--
Weapons:

? Main Weapon: An elegant, yet common archer sword of Khajiiti origin.

? Sub Weapon: A Khajiit hunting dagger, handed down by distant ancestors of hers and a Khajiit horn bow.
--
Armor: Amata wears a sleeveless and form-fitting leather cuirass that is custom made to be lighter than average specifically for mobility purposes. Her greaves are made of the same material as her cuirass, looking and feeling less bulky then the average leather armor. Her boots are also leather, knee-length, and well-kept, being a darker shade of brown. Her greaves and cuirass are a lighter shade of black and are usually concealed under a sandy-colored worn cloak suitable for Elsweyr's worst sand storms. She also sports a pair of goggles mainly used to prevent her eyes from being exposed to the sands of Elsweyr.

Equipment: None.
--
Biography:

Amata was born to a Khajiit couple in her homeland, Elsweyr. They belonged to a small clan and they lived peacefully in their village which was established around an oasis found somewhere along an Elsweyrian silk road. The road was convenient, bringing in traders that gave the villagers essential supplies in return for their fruits, vegetables, and homemade wine harvested from their land. There weren't many threats besides a couple of attacks on their livestock by a couple of predators, but that was always controllable. Life in their village wasn't easy but it wasn't hard.

One night, Amata, who was but a kitten of five, woke to the sound of blood curdling screams and the raging roar of fire. Her mother, S'Nahli, shushed her as she scooped her up from her bed and stumbled out of the room. They fled the house silently through the back door and they began their journey through their homely village. The village was in shambles, fire consuming many of the establishments, people calling out to one another in desperation, and bodies littering the street. Apparently, a pack of werewolves had struck the town in the middle of the night.

As she watched this scene unfold before her, Amata began to sob in her confusion and fright. Her mother began to stroke her hair gently as they reached the outskirts of the village. Amata watched as a wagon came into view, ready for departure. When they reached it Amata was taken from her mother's arms and placed into the wagon by a tall, well-built Khajiit man. Her mother spoke to him a distance away from the wagon as a few more people appeared and loaded their cargo into the wagon. Awhile later they began their departure from the village with the few other Khajiit aboard the wagon.

Amata watched from the back of the wagon as the village burned brightly on the horizon. She was no longer crying but tears continued to roll down her face. Amata's mother picked her up and sat her on her lap in an attempt to sooth her and soon after Amata fell into a restless sleep. By morning, they were well on their way out of Elsweyr, to a reported safe haven in Cyrodiil. Many weeks had passed before they finally reached their destination. Along their journey the Khajiit endured many werewolf attacks, including one that took the life of Amata's mother.

When they reached the safe haven along the Skyrim-Cyrodiilic border they had been reduced to five people. The tall, well-built Khajiit man, Do'Riska, had taken a liking to Amata and decided to raise her. He taught her the way of the warrior, yet she preferred to take the way of the shadow. In the end, Do'Riska decided to combine the use of stealth and combat and form a new class all together, the Shadow Runners. For fourteen long years she trained with Do'Riska, attempting to perfect her practice until one night when it all came to an end.

Werewolves had swarmed their haven and, despite their best efforts, it was obvious that the haven was falling. Do'Riska and Amata fought viciously for their lives as they made their escape, but it was evident that they would fall before sunrise came. Do'Riska was plunging his blade into a werewolf's neck when it came. A werewolf had flanked him, leaping at his arm and chewing viciously into it. He cried out in pain, but severed the werewolf's head in one swift motion. He clutched his arm in pain and turned to look at Amata as the werewolves surrounded the both of them.

"Amata, my child," He said. "My time on this earth is over. I will hold them off for you, flee for your life!"

Amata turned her head to look at him in surprise.

"I can't do that!" She replied.

"You'll do what I tell you, child! I did not raise a fool!" Do'Riska growled viciously.

As he was saying this the werewolves were growing closer and closer within striking range. Do'Riska swung his sword at the nearest one and turned to call out to her once again.

"Leave now!" He roared at her.

And with these final words he was brought to the ground. Amata moved to rescue him but the look in his eyes made it clear what she had to do. With tears in her eyes, Amata escaped her last haven into the snow filled forest, leaving the last of her family for dead. From that moment out, she was truly alone.

Firenze

Name: Adire
Age: 24
Race: Breton
Gender: Female

Description: A slim, beautiful girl with silky blonde hair that reaches below her neck. Her eyes sre deep and a light blue colour. She's exeptionally pretty and can usually get any man she wants.
Weapons: A sliver/ebony alloy crossbow. 50 bolts in a waist quiver and an elven shortsword.(The crossbow is a silver colour and the decorations/ornaments are gold-ish and ebony...ish.

Armor: A hooded, sleeveless black leather coat that reaches the back of her knees. The coat has silver plates welded onto it. A pair of black leather fingerless gloves that have been self-gilded with gold and self enchanted to hurt enemies with a shock, either to kill or to stun. She wears the rest of her armour as black leather and Adire also wears a grey shirt under her coat.
Equipment: A map of Cyrodiil, 3 potions of Restore Health, a compss and 1 repair hammer.
Bio: She became a wolf hunter, tracker and tamer to earn money, and to earn a living. When the virus spread to Cyrodiil she saw what wolves could do when they weren't friendly. She befriended one wolf that she named Mane when the virus spread Mane broke free, and killed one of her best friends. She wants to find the source of the virus and hopes to find a cure to help Mane.

Sparda67

Name:Dante
Age:unknown {appears to be in his mid 20s}
Race:Dunmer
Gender:Male

Description: Dante is a average Dunmer, slim and tall. He isn't bulgy in muscle but he has a goos amount of physical strength. his hair is long to his shoulders and black with bangs arching to the sides of his face, his eyes are unique having silver weavings in the redness that also glows dimly. His skin instead of having an ashy complection has a dark aura almost black. His garb consists of Black Leather armor custom made for his taste. (like the DB armor but not as skinny.) The set consists of Boots, gloves, shoulderpads (that are pointed on the outsides running down his arms.) cuirass, pants, Unusual black scarf around his lower face, it is rumor that the scarf has unique power and was gifted my nacturn herself. Is an EX Dark brotherhood assassin.

Weapons: Two Scimitars made of black steel, (Froststrike, Heatscar) Both enchanted to do elemental damage (hence the names, the damage is very little the enchantment is so he doesn't have to apply poison)

Armor: Black light leather armor, shadow Scarf (black scarf that has a misty/smokey aura)
Equipment: small bundeled rations consisting of a bread roll, small wheel of cheese, sharpening stones, flint and steel kit.

Bio: Dante had grown up in the Brotherhood. He was basically born into it. He never knew his mother, she had died at his birth and thats all he really cares to know. His father, Ghentae sravetious, was one of the most talented and skillfull assassin in his time. When Dante became of age (about twelve years old) Ghentae began training him in the art of subdelty and the dark arts. Teaching Dante of many combat skills. As Dante became older he fansied swordplay then anything else. His skill with blades was unmatchable within the ranks of his brothers and sisters. At the age of thiry-five after his fathers death, He recieved two remarkable blades. Two scimitars, made of sanguine black steel, and enchanted. Fit for a skillfull assassin.

Eventually after so many contracts fulfilled, and many victories, Dante named the sister blades, Froststrike, and Heatscar. Both names unique to their blades. At the age of Sixty-seven Dante had left the brotherhood, setting up his own death, to get away from the lively hood of the underground guild. AnyHystory beyond that is unknown, besides rumors of him taking up secret contracts in blackmarsh and Highrock. Now as He returns to cyrodill for the first time in many years, He finally has found something that peeks to his interests, and he hopes to have a challenge. To him, the Lycanthropes are the prey, and he is the hunter...

OOC: Can we just start?

OOC: Ya alright. If you want you can start feel free, I'm a wee busy right now. I will post shortly though.

The Bloodmoon had almost risen. Ocrandas was running away from a town followed by an angry mob. He wasn't paying any mind to where he was going so he tripped on a vine and fell. The mob was almost upon him.

"Ughh. Oh no. Aaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggghhhhhhh???.rrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggggghhhh!!!!!!!"

The Bloodmoon?? had risen.

Isaac walked through the Jerall Mountains. No... walk wouldnt be a term. The bloodthirsty vampire seemed to crawl in his torn apart Chitin, hunger in its red eyes. He had not fed in weeks, ever since the fall of Nighthallow. Not only was it making him starve, but making him insane. He often found that the Jerall Mountains housed many caves to protect him from the wrath of the sun, which usually housed a pond filled with fish for him to eat.

It may have been the fish that had been keeping his small amount of sanity. Or it may of been the vampires will to keep moving. He slowly pushed himself up, gazing down the mountainside.

"Stupid god..." he growled in a rather monstrous voice, beggining to hit the ground. "Kill you I will! Kill you and all your stupid followers! Kill, kill, and FEED!"

The crazed creature raised its head, letting out a loud cry that could be heard throughout the mountains for miles. In that cry, one word, one name could be heard.

Hircine.

Hope that wasnt to much. Trying to give you all a idea of how Isaac is without blood. ))

OOC: Hmm, seems like a rather cheerful feller to me.

IC:

Endreg stood on the cliff's edge, not but a mile from Skaal's Burrow. He and his men had a successful hunt, 10 wolves, a nice sized pack. Endreg was sharpening his sword and drinking his mead, his legs dangling from the ledge. Looking up at the sky-at the Bloodmoon- Endreg let out a mocking howl, and cursed the moon. He heard more howls from the distance, Dumb animals, thought the Nord. He got up and walked back towards camp, taking note of his surroundings, he knew he was being watched, everyone always was.

As he stepped into camp, he knew something was wrong, his men looked petrified, "What's wrong, Kessel, what's going on?" demanded the Endreg. All the men in the camp were at the ready with spears, facing a line of darkened trees, with three pairs of eyes staring back. "Grab some torches, we make for fort, NOW!" and at this, the eight men all grabbed torches from the fire, and all began running as fast as they could in the direction of Skaal's Burrow.

Endreg looked back to see a larger group of werewolves barrel out of the trees, let out a blood curdling howl, and give chase. "Make ready, men!" yelled Endreg as he turned to face the wolves, pulling out a javelin and hurling it 20 yards into the front-running wolf. "Come, Hircine's pets!" and the Nord and his men faced the wolves.

The next morning, Endreg arrived at the fort with only 3 men left, greeted by his wife, Hekkate. "Just another night, we're sending out a search party, I think there may be some refugees out there." said Endreg to his wife. "I need some food."

[quote name='Jonasvault101' date='Jun 23 2009, 06:03 PM' post='14551765']
OOC: Hmm, seems like a rather cheerful feller to me.

[quote]

Indeed))

Isaac gazed at the rising sun, letting out a snarl. "Stupid sunlight! Hate it I do, and destroy it I wish!" he began crawling up the mountains at a very fast rate, a gaping hole visible in the side. He crawled into it, deep, deep. The creature could here water dripping within, and so followed it. He reached a large lake, his red hungry eyes spotting fish in the water.

"Minor blood, but delicous!" he said, crawling toward the waters and grabbing a fish out with amazing agility. He looked at its face for a moment before sinking his teeth into its neck, blood rolling down his chin and into his throat. The creature let out a sigh. Not the best thing to feast on, but it kept him satated for a good hour, and there were plenty of fish.

He crawled deeper into the lake, finding more to feast on.

John sat in the darkness of his basemant alone. He sighed,
''I'm going to go looking for other survivors..I 'm going crazy here', he said. John had been in there for weeks bored as hell with no human interaction. He grabbed his weapons and left the iin... no were wolves were in site. He decided to go north towards the border of skyrim and the jerall mountains. If there were any survivors they'd be away from populated areas.

The next morning. the village sent out search parties because none of the mob had returned. they found a large pile of feasted on bodies. They assumed a werewolf attack had happened.

Ocrandas was wandering out in the wilderness when he saw a pack of normal wolfs.. he took out his dai-katana and charged. They would be a great feast thought Ocrandas




OOC:am i godmodding? If i am then sorry.

Isaac looked into the water, blood rolling down his chin. He still looked like a crazed fiend, but at least he could think straight for a while. He sighed, gazing at his gray face, his hair seeming to have went from black to gray. He would need to find a real meal soon, but for now, he would wait out the day.

He set a hand toward his waist, feeling a blade handle. He sighed, unstrapping a sheathe from his body and setting it against a cave wall. No use in throwing it off the edge of the mountains when he lost sanity again.

"Damned wolves." he said to himself, slowly standing and gazing at the sunlight leaking into the cavern. His voice was still monstrous, his body gangled. Another reason to put the weapon down, since his mere fist would be strong enough. As soon as the sun went down, he intended to get moving again.

Dai-katana in hand Ocrandas charged at the wolfs. The wolfs realized they were being attacked and got into a defensive position. Wind and snow rushing pass Ocrandas's face he rose the blade far above his head. The wolf leader leaped to disarm Ocrandas before he could strike. Ocrandas brought his blade down with all his strength. It was a crushing blow. The blade cleaved straight through the wolfs skull. The leader lay dead on the snow. Its blood coloring the snow red. The wolfs sensing their leader was dead attacked.

I apologise for the length of this post. ))

Isaac sat ontop a rock, in the more darker reaches of the cave. He hummed to himself, insanity beggining to take over again. It was at this time, three adventurers walked in the cave, seeking shelter from a blizzard currently taking place.

"Lets wait it out here, and perhaps the night." a voice said from beneath a boiled netch leather mask, it sounding eastern dunmer. The other two appeared to be nords in steel armor.

"It smells bloody awful in here!" a nord said, walking to the lake, looking at the decapitated fish that Isaac drained.


"Stop whining, Hrisskar, before I throw you outside with the doggies!" the dunmer snapped back, the other nord looking about the cave.

"Why should I, Valen?"

Isaac creeped across the rocks, gazing at the two argue, and at the third who seemed to be setting up camp. He grinned. At long last real food had arrived, something that could quench his long thirst. Soon, he would be able to move out of the mountains, into deeper land with the strength these three would give him. Oh yes, he would snap there necks, eat there eyes first, then the throats. The throats were always the best.

"Both of you, silence!" the third nord said, growling at the three. He then went back to his work, not noticing the creeping form of Isaac. "You both are worse then two bosmer fighting over a ring! Shutup, and go fishing!"

Isaac leaped out of the shadows, onto the Nord. Since the Nord was off guard, he had no prolblem getting him on the ground. The vampire started punching the mans face, he strugglign to get him off.

"Help me! Get this creature off me!" he shouted, the nord known as Hrisskar drawing a blade and running to Isaac, while the Dunmer pulled out a bow and attached a arrow to it, firing at the creature.

Isaac leaped out of the way, crawling toward the rocks and letting out a loud, painful howl. The Dunmer tried firing a arrow again, but Hrisskar got in his way, to busy trying to kill Isaac.

The creature tried leaping back as the nord swung, but was cut slighty across the chest. It snarled, leaping at its attacker and biting into its neck, letting the blood flow into its throat.

So delicous, so long since he had any human blood. The nord fell on its back, Isaac digging his thumbs into it's eyes. Just then, the Dunmer let out another arrow, it hitting the creature in the arm. Isaac looked up, his eyes completely red now. He let out a loud snarl before charging at the Dunmer, the other nord letting out a howl and raising its blade in the air.

Isaac tackled the nord with his elbow, it falling and hitting its head roughly against a sharp rock, going limp. The Dunmer roared, firing arrows constantly at Isaac, the creature leaping into the lake.

"Come out dammit!" he shouted, throwing his bow to the ground and pulling out two sabers. He slowly waded into the water, eyes hunting for the one that killed his companions. "Show yourself, you damn monster!" he shouted once more, now waist deep. He looked around, no sight of the creature.

And then, he felt the last thing that he would ever feel. Something wrapping its hands around his legs, before pulling him under.

John walked around nervous as hell ready to shoot anything that goes by with his crossbow. He then saw a darkelf (Ocrandas) in the distance fighting a pack of wolves. I knew I wasn't the only survivor! He shot his crossbow at the wolves legs then charged at them with his long sword and helped the dark elf finish them off.
''Hey my names John... I've been barricade inside the basemant forever. Your the first person I've seen in ever! Anyways, who are you?'', askedJjohn.

Endreg and his men were patrolling areas a ways from Skaal's Burrow. They had been walking for a few hours when they heard a commotion coming from down the slope. "Make ready, move slowly and behind me." ordered Endreg in a soft but strong voice. The group of ten walked down the hill, weapons at the ready, they saw a small fight between a Dunmer and some wolves, then another man jumped in the fray. "Come on men!" and soon the hunting party was charging in the direction of two refugees.

But by the time Endreg reached them, the fight was over. "Who are the two of you, do you need help?" Endreg asked the men.

''I'm just a nord from bruma. I survived by staying down in the basemant of an iin. I've been there forever.... today was the first day I worked up the courage to leave. Can you take me to wereever it is you guys are staying? Your not infected are you?''

I um....... am Ocrandas Nefnder. I am a survivor of Morrowind. And no I'm not infected.I cant let them find out about my secret. Tonight i kill them in there sleep, and feast on their flesh. That should keep my hunger down.Lets take these wolf bodies and save them for later.



Later that evening:
" So you guys want to eat the wolf meat?" asked Ocrandas.

''Exactly what I wanted to hear!',' said the Nord. As if he would trust anyone he just met.
Later that evening:
''No. I'm not hungry.''


EDIT: Maybe don't skip ahead like that. It's kind of annoying. : )

OOC: ok srry bout that




IC: "Ok more for me." Said Ocrandas as he started eating the meat with n manners whatsoever.

"Should we find a cave and set up camp?" asked Ocrandas

OOC: Ya man, don't skip ahead, wait for everyone to catch up, but it can pass for now.

IC:

"No, caves are dangerous, if we get cornered by wolves we're all done for. And my name is Endreg Ice-helm, I rule Skaal's Burrow." said Endreg. The Dunmer seemed suspicious, but he didn't know why, but this one would need to prove himself first, "Well then, we'll go to a grove that's fairly safe, and in the morning, we head for my fort in the deeper mountains."

"So, Ocrandas, I see you're skilled with that blade. I too have a love of the sword, this fine blade I have is pure Skaal Silver, it kills wolves in a single blow." Endreg said as he unsheathed his ancestral antique blade, the runes glowing in the light.

"Very nice." said Ocrandas in a sarcastic tone

Damn! He knows to much about wolfs. I wish he would go into a cave so i could snap his neck and feast on them all!

''Actually... I vote for cave... It should be much warmer... in my opinion...''

"Trust me John, the grove is safer."

Endreg began sharpening his blade, almost tauntingly, while staring at the Dunmer. Somethin, in his eyes, Who, or what is he? thought the Nord.

Endreg then shared a glance between all of his men, a glance that said Be on your guard!

''Okay then. Your the boss...'' said John, ''Get ready it looks like it's getting dark...'' John put his hand on the handle of his blade ready to draw it.