Full Character SheetsHalf ToothName: Sirius but he is more well known as Moon-Eye
Race: Mystic Elf Vampire
Gender: Male
Age: Oldest Vampire in existence (aside from Lamae) so age is of no importance to him really.
Birthsign: The Shadow
Bloodline: Berne
Clan: Dark Blood Guild
Rank: Leader
Height: 1.87m of 6ft 1" (he's very tall)
Hair: Straight shoulder length hair that a very pale silver colour.
Eyes: His right eye is a silvery blue while the other eye has no iris and no pupil it is just marble white.
Skin: Extremely pale skin with just a hint of colour.
Tattoos/scars: Over the years Sirius has been covered in scars but his most prominent one is a scar that goes from the top of his left shoulder blade across his chest to his right hip.
Build: Incredibly tall, because of his height he looks quite thin but he is actually very well toned.
Class: Night Blade.
Class description: (Just a brief outline of your characters class and capabilities)
Skills: Long Blade (95), Short Blade(95), General staying out of sight and under cover skills (90), Speech craft (100), Frost Magic (30) and due to his birth sign he is naturally gifted at becoming invisible and chameleoning himself and others.
Minor power: Vastly increased speed and agility.
Major power:Flight
Apparel: Sirius usually wears leather armour underneath either a white shirt, black trousers and a black waistcoat or for day time wear he'll put a robe on over his armour.
Weapons: Sirius dual wields a silver Katana and a silver wakizashi. Both have been enchanted to never become damaged or scratched and lose their sharpness.
Inventory: A small pouch full of coins, an old rag for cleaning his blades and a piece of black material which he uses to tie around the bottom half of his face when going out during the day.
Misc:He has a pet vampire dog called Thorn (Thorn is about the size of a wolf and is completely black with deep blood red eyes. A very intelligent dog)
Personality/traits: Sirius is a very patient man with time for everyone, he is open to most things, willing to compromise and give anyone a chance, he will always be fair. He will often see things that others will miss and sometimes behaves in strange ways that don't make sense to anyone else. Getting on Sirius' nasty side is a very very bad idea.
Bio: Sirius grew up as a child in Mournhold. His mother died but his father remarried another woman and they had twins. Despite being older, Sirius was usually over shadowed by his twin brothers and was hated by his father's new wife who didn't keep it a secret.
When he was 17 someone from the Dark Blood Guild contacted him and asked him if he would like to join them but to do so he must first become a vampire.
He returned to his home in Mournhold 50 years later to see how his father was doing. Only when he got there he found that one of his younger brothers had also decided to come back home. There was a huge family argument which resulted in Sirius killing his step mother, his father being completely angry and upset and Sirius killing him too.
His younger brother (Achenar) waited for him downstairs and revealed that his twin had been killed and that it had crippled him inside so he too became a vampire and was now working for the empire to hunt vampires in a fight fire with fire sort of manner. Achenar set the house ablaze and locked Sirius inside leaving him to burn in their old family home. When the fire has ceased Sirius managed to escape and return to the guild hall.
To sum the rest of his life up, he has spent his life researching vampires and were-creatures, travelling over Tamriel fighting off vampire hunters, working to protect his guild, he has been captured and tortured by different people many times over the years, and several times be his brother, however he has always managed to escape. He is not exactly a public face but many people know him by the nickname of Moon-eye.
Hstory:WoolyMammoth45Name: Jamaal Arhano
Gender: Male
Birthsign: The Steed
Race: Red Guard
Age: 29
Physical Appearance: Jamaal has compelling deep brown eyes, with short cut black at about 1/2 an inch. His hair is very thick. He has a deep muscle tone, and bears the usual Red Guard tan. His nose looks quite normal, not too short, not too long. The RedGuard's calf muscles are enormous, along with most of his leg muscles, from his birthsign. His Arm muscles are at a moderate size, along with his height, where he stands about the average man's size. He bears a lean body, and is careful to maintain it, for assassins need to be quick. Jamaal wears a large, thick scar along his right forearm, along with a scar just under his left eye. His overall muscle composition is moderate overall, with his legs as an exception. He is quite athletic and fast, through genetics, and the stars. He also keeps a black hood tied around one of his belt slots.
Apparel: Jamaal is an assassin, but he always doesn't try to look like one obviously. He usually wears, unless disguising himself on certain events, Black Leather Armor, with Light, flexible leather boots. He bears an amulet, which he wears under his armor. His mother gave it to him in his childhood. It is said to give him luck, and it may possibly be enchanted with that ability. He also wears a black leather belt, with many slots of its own. He also wears leather braces, and fingerless leather gloves.
Weapons: Jamaal bears a rather small longsword that hangs from his belt. It is bigger than the usual short-sword, but is not as big as an average longblade (A longblade classified in history as a sword with the blade twice the size of its hilt, therefore, it may very in size somewhat to a degree.) He also bears a short blade, the hilt 6 inches, and the blade 9 inches. It is held in a tie up leather strap pocket on his right arm just below the shoulder, covering his horrible scar. He also wears a small iron dagger in a pouch above his ankle, for such needed instances. It is very light, and does not affect his running in a way that matters. The last weapon of his is a short steel and leather cross-bow, featuring steel in the middle, right on the straight section from which the arrow is aimed, and flexible leather covering it. It sits in his light flexible black leather quiver, slung across his shoulder, with 20 iron arrows. Short blades stick out of both ends of the head, allowing somewhat of a good killing technique.
Misc: Jamaal also keeps one minor invisibility potion handy within his gear belt. He saves it only for life saving instances.
Bio: Jamaal grew up in Rihad, Hammerfel, and studied the ancient Ansei as a boy. His Mother was a caring mother, a former Morag Tong Agent. His Mother taught him the arts of stealth, and the little combat that she new when he was young. His father was always away. He really knew anything about what he did when he was young. Later though, he finally realized his father was not a former member of the Morag Tong, but an active one of the sort. He was always away in Morrowind doing whatever he did, which Jamaal didn't know about at his young age. Meanwhile, he continued to study the Ansei, the ancient battles of Hammerfell, and the works of Destri Melarg. At the age of ten, his Uncle, a high ranking fighters guild member, taught him some advanced combat techniques, for his mother did not know much of combat. At the age of 16, his father retired, and trained him in stealth, and the art of the stealth kill as much as he could. He was an Ark'ay worshiper growing up, and also worshiped Julianos. At the age of 18, he forsook his parents will to become a member of the Morag Tong, and joined the Dark Brotherhood after being invited by an assassin that saw his talent. He therefore started to worship Sithis. Even though he wasn't as religious as some of the other members, he still pays his respects to the void.
He quickly rose through the ranks by doing contracts, and soon the leader of the Dark Brotherhood appointed him as Silencer. Now he stays in the waterfront with his friend (and fellow brotherhood member) Claud. When his life-long comrade, Renal, and his brother, Rhano, are there, they stay in the same building. Claud holds a house in the Imperial City, while another shelter lies in the Waterfront as well. Brotherhood safe havens are throughout Tamriel, whether being in the form of a residency or sanctuary. Jamaal currently spends his says in the Imperial City, a great place of commerce.
History: Cookies AhoyName: Elliana 'Ellie' Belmont
Race: Breton/Werewolf
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Birthsign: The Steed
Faction: Ex-Imperial Legion
Height: 5' 8"
Hair: Fauxhawk, short, light sandy brown
Eyes: Soft mossy green
Skin: Lighter
Tattoos/scars: No tattoos, teeth marks on her stomach from being bitten
Build: Lean, light angular face, small mouth
Class: Scout
Class description: Quick agile surveyor that can hold their own in combat.
Skills: Swordsmanship (50), Athletics (65), Agility (65), Tactics (35), Scouting (40), Conjuration (70)
Apparel: Light leather boots, lightly steel plated skirt, green button up short sleeve shirt with bronze chainmail underneath, worn leather gloves
Weapons: Mithril shortsword, bound dagger
Inventory: 35 Septims, small magic restoration potion, small potion of healing, silver family ring, small pack
Misc: Her werewolf form is smaller than most, but she makes up for that in speed. Her fur color is light brown like her hair, but has a few stripes of black. She keeps her fauxhawk as a werewolf, but it goes down almost all of her spine.
Personality/traits: Although not the most boisterous of people, she makes sure her voice and opinion is heard. She can be impatient at times, and is usually tough to be good friends with.
Bio: Elliana, Ellie for short, grew up inside the Imperial City to a rich merchant father and a lazy stay at home mother. As she grew up she got less comfortable with the high class life and culture and would constantly get in trouble playing with the lower class of the city. As time went by she began to clean up her act and dabbled with the Mage's Guild, and learned quite a bit about conjuration. She was quite gifted in that aspect, but Ellie didn't feel it was her true calling and she often found herself daydreaming about being out on the countryside on adventures. It didn't take her long to pack her few things and leave the Mage's Guild without so much as a goodbye. Within the hour she was enlisting with the Imperial Legion. She learned swordsmanship there, along with battle tactics. After a year of training she was twenty years old and was beginning to work patrols on various trade routes, and she continued to do so for another year before she, and a few other Imperial Legion scouts, were called to find and kill a werewolf that had been sighted outside of Bruma. As the scouts tracked it through the mountains they were attacked by the beast. Ellie suffered the first blow from it and was bitten almost simultaneously on her stomach. Before the werewolf was killed it had slain three of the six scouts. Ellie was in bad shape and as the three survivors made their way back to Bruma, Ellie's friend, whom she had grown to like, found the bite. He confronted her with a blade drawn, and the other scout was quick to follow. Before she knew it they attacked, but a new primal instinct helped her defeat one scout, but her old friend had fled the scene. Now Ellie wanders the countryside hiding from the occasional scout group or hunter.
History: Uglius MaximusIIName: Nytt Valeci
Previous name(s): Nytt Valeci
Race: Mystic Elf
Gender: Male
Age: 1175
Birthsign: The Steed
Bloodline: Quarra
Clan: Dark Blood
Rank: Fang
Faction: Ex Dark Brotherhood
Height: 6'5"
Hair: Black, straight and just past his shoulder length.
Eyes: Pale Red
Skin: Pale, with bold, dark tribal tattoo's that follow along his body in a symetrical fashion.
Tattoos/scars: See above. Has various scars all over his body, a most notable one on his stomach.
Build: Handsome mer with pale skin, he has a gaunt face due to Vampirism, he is tall and fairly musclar, he is of normal weight.
Class: Hunter
Class description: Capable with stealth and weapons, it's the class that's mediocre at both the ranger class and the warrior class but great at a select few skills from both.
Skills: Long Blade, Athletics, Acrobatics, Block and has some ability in stealth. Is also a very capable cook.
Apparel: He currently wears a brown robe with a black trim at the bottom. A thick hood covers his head.
Weapons: Ornate sword with a black ebony hilt engraved with ivory details and a double edged blade. The blade itself is engraved with elven that reads - Man is born free, but everywhere in chains.
Inventory: Not alot, a couple of maps, some paper and a quill. He does however make a note of always carrying a sack of apples for old times' sake.
Personality/traits: Nytt is an easy going and sometimes fairly goofy guy, he's proud and friendly and enjoys meeting new people and getting to know them. He can be a bit judgemental but when he gets to know someone he will put his life on the line, he is very trustworthy, an attribute which he is well known for.
Bio: Nytt was born into a poor family within the walls of Mournhold, all his childhood he was bullied by other mer for being different. His father worked for the local tavern while his mother worked the house. One day, when he was coming back from school, three redguard children picked on him, teasing him and pushing him around. He finally gave into his anger and attacked them and nearly killed all three before he was chased away by their fathers who were nearby at the time. Later that evening while Nytt and his family sat down to eat the house was attacked, burning down the small building killing both his parents.
He ran away that night and escaped via some old merchants to Bravil in Cyrodiil, he began working for the fighters guild, learning how to fight and become a powerful friend to the guild all the while becoming more and more accepted by the people.. During his time in Cyrodiil he loved and was loved back by many women but he never found he could settle down with anyone. However, he soon found the woman of his dreams and after two years they became married, but luck was not on his side, during a mission he was attacked by a vampire and overcome, he quit the Fighters Guild for fear of being caught, both him and his wife knew that their love would get them through this and they would find a cure, but soon they became poor and could not afford anything, Nytt was forced to join the Dark Brotherhood just to keep living and was embraced by them, he found a new family within them and after a few years he became a listener, however.. One night he brutally attacked his wife for blood and killed her, horrified by the murder he had committed, he left the Dark Brotherhood, giving him nothing more the anger of Sithis and the Night Mother, together, the would haunt his dreams, showing him his family burning and him killing his wife..
It was not long after the murder he was contacted by a man named Sirius who ran a cult named The Dark Blood Guild, they became good friends and he was called upon to go on what he was called "The Longest Journey" inwhich both Sithis and the Nightmother plagued him constantly, during the journey he was killed brutally and swiftly but was resurrected by a member of the Journey who soon became Sirius' wife. This death came to a shock for him and it's unclear to many what happened after the death - but needless to say, it was something which troubles him still. He has recently been away from the guild - travelling to his old home of mournhold where he has spent quite some time there.
Hstory: Lord Veneficus Name: Acerbus Occisor
Race: Imperial/Vampire
Age: 837, but looks like he is in his early sixties.
Gender: Male
Birthsign: The Atronach
Main skills: Swordplay, Repair, Telekinesis
Class: Swordsman
Guild: Dark Blood Guild
Rank: Fang
General appearance: He is of medium build, muscular arms and legs. His flesh is pale and his face is gaunt due to his 'condition'.
Hair: Natural. Shoulder length, jet black
Eye Colour: Red
Height: 6'2"
Tattoos/Scars: A short scar that arcs around his left eye.
Mental Description: He is different from most vampires, seeing as he is kind and eerily calm in most situations. Acerbus will speak his mind if need be and is civil in most arguments. Few are on his bad side and even fewer are people he truly hates. In combat, he can be just as calm and even more so fierce.
Primary weapon: Steel longsword with a ruby pommel, red grip, and ivory scabbard.
Secondary weapon: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/27/Sgian_dubh_Sheffield.jpg tucked into his boot. (minus the stamp in the middle.)
Clothing/Armor: Leather boots coming just below his knee, tight red velvet pants, a black shirt with red trim and loosely tucked into his pants. He also wears leather bracers on his forearms, which are plated with thin steel shaped like scales. He wears a left handed glove with the same set up as his bracers.
Inventory: Map, Compass, Small pouch full of gold, Quill and Ink, Lute
Minor Power: The ability to manipulate mortal minds including hypnosis.
Major Power: The ability to take on the appearance of a child.
Misc: -He is a master of swordplay and telekinesis.
-Plays the lute.
Bio: Acerbus has forgotten many things about his early life, seeing as the knowledge he holds and the age he has reached has pushed it out. But what he can remember is the day he was given the Dark Gift; and it was as clear in his mind as moonlight.
He had been traversing the Nibenay Basin searching for rare sprigs of Nirnroot. Most of the day had gone as planned, stopping here, marking there, but what he hadn't expected to do was stumble upon a vampire's lair near the bank of the Corbolo River. The vampire offered him an alternative to death: the Dark Gift for the life of his brother, Acerbus' only family. And, of course, Acerbus agreed to this horrid proposition and was given the gift of eternal life. Through remorse, he spent long years of his life on grieving for his selfishness. Eventually, however, he moved on to better things; though he still has moments where he zones out and thinks back on the time with his brother.
Since then, Acerbus has been a part of the Dark Blood Guild and a high ranking and well respected member.
Jerod Kayne Name: Black Templar
Previous name(s): Benedictus Percian
Race: Argonian, Vampire
Gender: Male
Age: 63 (Was infected at age 27)
Birthsign: The Warrior
Bloodline: Cyrodillic
Clan: He was infected by Cyrodillic vampires, but is not in any sort of clan. A 'Free-Lance Vampire' if you will.
Faction: Ex-Fighters Guild
Rank: Ex-Protector
Height: 6 feet exactly
Hair: Sports very long crimson spines that stretch down to his shoulders.
Eyes: Pale human-like vampire eyes with a reddish glint.
Skin: Pale dead-like Orange and red scales, with distinct traces of black and green.
Tattoos/scars: A lot of scars traveling around his chest and arms. A real noticeable scar is a large one that travels horizontally across the left side of his snout.
Build: Mainly tall and muscular, Ben keeps himself healthy and in mint condition. He has slightly longer legs then normal Argonians, making them ideal for running. The lizard has a tough upper torso strength and hard muscled arms.
Class: Templar (Although he refers to himself as a 'Black Templar')
Class description: A mixture between a monk and a Knight, specializing in the arts of combat and meditation, but on occasions they can turn in vigilante's. Templar's fight for the common good and the gods. The ability to use a sword, shield and bow is nothing more then an art to them.
Skills: Since Ben lives alone, and visits towns rarely he must use nature in order to survive. He is an excellent hunter (Including Acrobatics[75], Athletics[80], Tracking[80] and Stealth[75]) and cook. Him being a Templar enables him to execute complex sword and shield maneuvers (Blade[90], Block[95]) as well as use bows and crossbows with deadly accuracy (Marksmen[80]).
Armor: Everything is of chainmail, save for the boots in which case are leather. Figure something like this. But in place of a helmet, Ben wears a leather turban reinforced with chainmail Carries a large steel Kite Shield with a golden dragon head representing Akatosh painted on it, when it is not in use the shield is strapped to his back. The cloth that covers the chainmail on his chest also bores the same symbol. He wears a heavy leather belt with all sorts of minor equipment tied to it. The clothe on his armor is severely blood-stained.
Weapons: A Steel Longsword with a thinner blade and curve at it's tip, he also sports a large wooden crossbow for hunting and/or killing foes. A minor enchanted bolt quiver is tied to his right thigh which holds over twenty bolts. The quiver is enchanted so if Ben is moving around too much, the arrows will not spill out - a light gravitational spell holds them in place enabling Ben to reload his crossbow with ease.
Clothes: On the occasions where he's not wearing his armor, Ben wears a stitched green shirt and leather greaves.
Inventory: On his belt, he has a small sack of gold for whenever he enters a village or town. He keeps several whetstones with him in case his sword grows dull, or to sharpen the tips of his crossbow bolts. He also wears a golden medallion that he was given from his devotion to the nine.
Personality/traits: Ben has a very disciplined mind, and takes everything with an easy irritating seriousness. Although at times he can be a funny, and joking Argonian. Though food does not give him sustenance, Ben eats it anyway in order to feel more normal, although separates himself from society. He has entered a depressive state, with various thoughts to commit suicide ever since his infection although he could not drive himself to do something like that. Sometimes, these moping states can lead to fits of rage which usually end up in someone getting hurt or killed.
Bio: Ben was born an orphan but was adopted by a rich noble widow in Chorrol. The widow's husband had died in service to the fighter's guild and she named the Argonian after him. He was raised as a military-man by his adopted mother's various body guards and was put into the fighter's guild at age 22. There he learned to be disciplined and smart unlike his spoiled younger brother, Lirus Percian. Benedictus rose to the rank of Protector until he was banned from the guild due to a small scuffle and contract defection which resulted in the death of two fighter's guild member's.
He then became a Monk, training himself in meditation and learning about the Nine Divines. Mixed with his combat skills, Ben became somewhat of an Eradicator. Cleansing evil creatures in the name of the gods, and was known as a vampire slayer. He also killed Bandits, Escaped Criminal and Thieves operating outside of cities and towns. Although his vigilante worked came to a screeching halt when one night Ben was ambushed by Vampires and was infected. Days later he had transformed into a vampire; The very thing he sought to destroy.
Benedictus now roams the land killing Bandits and Marauders with a new passion in hopes to redeem himself in the eyes of the nine.
History: DarkNova50 Name: Darion Rayner
Race: Imperial (Were-Bear)
Gender: Male
Age: 31
Birthsign: The Warrior
Class: Ex-Bandit
Skills: Long blade, Light armour, Athletics, Holding his liquor.
General Appearance: Darion is relatively average in appearance. Tall, lean, and relatively muscular from his previous line of work, there is nothing particularly eye catching about him. Though there are many who would have thought it impossible, in recent months he has become increasingly scruffy looking, with thick stubble obscuring his rough features, his hair more untamed than ever.
Height: 6'3"
Eye colour: Dark blue
Hair: Light brown, worn to his shoulder blades
Personality: Despite his circumstances, Darion is surprisingly upbeat. Though his observations regarding life are usually couched in sarcasm and wry humour, he has a generally positive outlook on things.
Weapons: A well weathered silver longsword with a moderate frost enchantment.
Clothing: Loose black t-shirt worn under a denim jacket, dark brown trousers and black leather boots.
Inventory: A small steel flask of flin, and a supply of self-made cigarettes.
Bio: Darion was born in Cyrodiil, to rather unglamorous circumstances. His father was more or less a common rogue, who managed to land himself in jail when Darion was but a boy. His mother, on the other hand, worked tirelessly to ensure that Darion was as well cared for as she could manage. When he grew old enough, Darion managed to join, with some difficulty, a group of local bandits, and has been working with different groups of them ever since.
Recently, Darion's group (who he claims to have never liked anyway) was accosted during the day by a raving madman, spouting nonsense about moons and hunters. They managed to dispatch him easily enough, but Darion was bitten in the process. When the next full moon rose, Darion's memory turned into a blur, and when he awoke the next day, his colleagues had vanished. He suspects they were able to run, rather than having been eaten. (But then, who knows?)
Now, he seeks to find a new life in Tamriel, knowing what he is. His mother is his sole attachment to his old life, to whom he still sends what little money he can.
Solidor Name: Sondil Telind
Race: Altmer
Gender: Male
Age: 34
Birthsign: The Lover
Bloodline: None
Height: 6'3
Appearance: Tall and lithe, his time spent digging up corpses was enough to keep him fit and healthy but did not do much for his physique over all, he has very little muscle and body fat. His hair has gone many years without being cut and falls down to his waist in a plait tied by religious metal. Thanks to many years spend underground conducting research he has lost much of the pigmentation in his hair which is a platinum blonde and his skin which is almost marble white, on top of this his once bright blue eyes have faded to grey, though this may not have anything to do with lack of sunlight.
Class: Mage/Necromancer.
Class description: A practitioner of magic arts now frowned upon by the modern mages guild, Sondil would say he is a visionary not a monster, though very few people would agree.
Skills : He is a capable caster with most schools but excels in Conjuration and Destruction the most, though he is a very skills illusionist as well. In conjunction with his abilities in necromancy he has learned the ways of the human body, he can reconstruct and deconstruct a corpse many times over while exploring its faults, he can work out causes of death when none are apparent. This once made him a valuable coronary expert for the temple.
Apparel: A pair of lavish black floor length robes with attached hood and travel cloak, the stitching is a crimson red and you can see faintly the holes on the chest of the robes where the symbol of Mannimarco was once stitched in place.
Weapons: He never uses man made weapons, if he should ever need one he is more than confident enough in his conjuration abilities to summon one, but his arrogance in his abilities with destruction leads him to believe a permanent weapon is not needed under any circumstances.
Inventory: A sack of coins with a map of Morrowind covered in markers indicating different nests and burial sites. He also carries several empty vials should he ever need to collect a sample.
Misc: He is accompanied everywhere by his pet, a Very Large Very Loyal Mastiff Named Oberon. A breed of dog more commonly used for tracking, hunting, and some times guarding. Though contrary to the dogs size and stature it is actually very docile and friendly and enjoys attention from most people especially children, Although he is fiercely aggressive and unrelenting when it comes to his master. Due to the dogs prolonged exposure to cadavers and other parts of deceased bodies he thinks his second priority (the first being to guard his master) is to guard and protect any dead body, this will often lead to difficulties when Sondil takes him along to dig up corpses as it takes some time to coerce him into abandoning his post.
Personality/traits: Paranoid schizophrenic to a tee. He does not trust any one (save for his pet) He is questioning and anolyzes everything that he encounters no matter what its importance is, he can't help but study for studying sake. In the brief moments that his complete attention he is often very blunt and forthwith with what he says, his mind may be addled by paranoia but this does not slow his process of thinking, he believes mulling and thinking things over to be a waste of time. On top of this he has very limited social skills, he would anolyse a joke rather than laugh and remind people of impossibilities and exaggerations when they use figures of speech. Everything to him is a puzzle; conversations and people, dead bodies and experiments, and he treats them all as such.
Bio: His life started out normally enough by Altmer standards, he grew up in Summerset Isles in a privileged family. His father was an active and prominent politician at the time and his mother a Higher up in the Psiijic order, he and his three brothers learnt everything their parents could teach them on both the subjects of magic and politics.
Being the youngest brother he had a lot to live up to, two of his brothers went into the Psiijic order and the third into politics before Sondil was even thirteen years old and advanced a long way through the weaving echelon of ranks both careers had to offer.
He spent many years tirelessly working towards the greatness his family had all achieved, the pressure is said to be what led to his unhinging, so to speak. After weeks and weeks of toiling and mental fatigue he finally cracked and some how disintegrated a tavern, until this day he does not know what it was he did or how he did it.
Shortly after his melt down he was institutionalised; for many hours he would sit in his room studying the different breeds of insects that would crawl through the bars of his window, experimenting on them and controlling them.
One treatment the institute tried to use was bonding; the process of opening him up emotionally so they may finally get past his defences and try to examine how exactly his mind had been damaged. Admittedly it was a very questionable experiment at best but the permission was given and the experiment carried out. However, he was deemed too dangerous for prolonged contact with Healers and Scholars so they instead used a dog as a trial.
What they didn't expect was the dogs unrelenting loyalty towards the crazed Altmer; for a number of days it was impossible for anybody to enter the room, due to the Mastiffs constant vigil at the door protecting its new found master.
After months of trying and trying they finally gave up; he was moved to a lower security ward where he would live out his days in quiet and feverish study. However his potential was soon recognised, though his mind was addled with faults and breaks it did not disturb his steep almost impeccable learning curve nor did it hamper his ability to think evaluate and study, and most impressively of all, it did not effect his casting abilities at all.
On the day of his transfer he escaped; allegedly aided by a Necromancer of tremendous power and ability, though these rumours are not confirmed. For the next few years he dropped of the radar until eventually re-emerging in the Necromancer cult that worshipped Mannimarco.
All that is known of late is that he abandoned his allies during their dispute with the Cyrodiil mages guilds and fled to Morrowind. He hasn't been seen since until the apparent increased activity of Vampires and Werewolves which both interest him greatly, some who met him in his brief time with the Necromancers say he was looking for an alternate route to immortality instead of that of Lichdom, some believe his resurfacing at the same time as many of the vampire clans to be a sign that they may have something to do with his experiments.
History: InstantDeath59 Name: Inaesth
Race: Argonian
Gender: Male
Age: 25
Birthsign: Serpent
Height: 6'2
Hair: Long fins
Eyes: Deep red
Skin: Dark green scales
Build: Tall, and muscular
Class: Adventurer
Class description: Experianced at fighting and exploring dangerous areas
Skills: Swordsman-70, Light armor-60, Survival- 55, alchemy-50, athletics-50
Apparel: Leather armor mixed with some bits of iron armor. Also dosen't wear shoes
Weapons: Main weapon- a long surved steel blade, secondary weapons- two large daggers on his belt
Inventory: Some money, an assortment of plants and ingrediants, a mortar and pestle, and a few poisons
Personality/traits: Usualy high spirited, he dosen't get scared easily and has faced most types of enemies. He's also very open and dosen't mind people around, but he prefers most of the time working alone.
Bio: Born in the Black Marsh, he lived there for most his life, and learned bits of alchemy. When he grew older, he left his home to make his fortune adventuring. He wanders alone, from towns, usualy in search of jobs regarding getting things. But he is mostly in the wilderness alone.
Hstory: Darkom95 Name: Maglir
Race: Bosmer Vampire
Gender: Male
Age: 142 (appears 27)
Sign: The Thief
Bloodline: Keerilth
Appearance: Slim and gaunt, Maglir has all the typical vampire features: pale skin, red eyes, and sharp fangs. He tries to feed regularly to lessen his chances of being spotted and keep his sun resistance up. He is not particularly handsome, but there is nothing really that unattractive about him. He almost always has some form of illusion spell around his persona, either to conceal his disease or to simply make himself more attractive.
Height: 5' 7''
Hair: Long, wispy black strands of hair that fall past his shoulders. He usually keeps it in a ponytail fashion, but frequently forgets or loses the silken strap he uses to keep it in place.
Eyes: He has the typical bloodshot red eyes of a vampire, sunken and cast in shadow. His pale skin has caused dark circles to form around his once alluring eyes.
Class: Vampire
Major Skills: Acrobatics, Alteration, Unarmed combat, Stealth
Minor Skills: Athletics, Illusion, Mysticism, Speechcraft
Minor Power: The ability to manipulate mortal minds including hypnosis
Major Power: The ability to transform into mist
Mental: He is very critical of himself, and rarely gets angry unless it is at his own mistake. His primary goal is his own safety and pleasure, and generally does as he pleases. He has a romanticized view of the whole situation, as he fancies himself a noble hero. As such, he tries to be gallant and chivalrous, but usually ends up looking somewhat foolish.
He is very distrusting of his fellow vampires, and tries to avoid them whenever possible. He believes only in violence for the sake of peace, and refuses to do anything out of spite or hate.
Weapons: He has no weapons, but his black leather gloves have metal studs on the knuckles.
Clothing: He usually wears an eccentric and classy outfit, with rich colors and a long flowing cape that fits perfectly with his view of himself. His coats primarily have frilly sleeves, and he frequently wears a goofy looking top hat. All of which he thinks is the height of fashion.
Miscellaneous: He has a small pouch of rose seeds, which he enchants into blooming flowers to be handed out to various ladies at the earliest possible moment.
Bio: Maglir grew up as heir to a small court of Northern Valenwood, his less than affluent father a lord of a long forgotten castle. His father hired many tutors to teach him in the ways of politics and administration, but he would much rather try to charm young ladies in the estate's garden than study, a frequent cause of debate between his parents. His mother claimed he would grow out of it, and that he would eventually settle down with a nice Bosmer girl from another family, but his father insisted his actions would be the death of him.
One bright spring day, Maglir was at his usual antics when, to his surprise, the maiden agreed to his suppositions. They made off for a nearby bedroom, but, much to his surprise, the girl's beauty melted away with the sunlight, and she was revealed as the monster she really was. As he lay unconscious with her bite marks on his neck, she took her time butchering his parents and much of the castle staff. When he finally came to, he found an empty and bloody castle awaiting him, with her situated on his father's throne.
He tried to attack her, but his attempts were useless. She laughed as she nearly killed him for the second time, and told him he would be cursed forever to wander the land, hunted and alone, just as she was. Maglir never saw her again after that day, but ever since then he has had a deep seated distrust for vampires. His antics with women, however, seemingly remained intact.
Since then he has more or less wandered the forests of Valenwood and Cyrodiil, stopping by towns and settlements to woo the young ladies and sate his bloodlust. He has never, however, infected anyone else with his curse. Recently he has noticed his natural powers becoming stronger; this new predicament alarms him, and makes him question the source of the enhancement. His curiosity has gotten the better of him, and for the first time in his life he has gone out to seek for his fellow creatures of the night.
History: Jonasvault101 Name: Veren Serendas
Previous name(s): Nerendas Dren
Race: Dunmer
Gender: Male
Age: 200 (looks in his 20's)
Birthsign: Ritual
Bloodline: Other
Clan: Dark Blood Guild
Rank: Dark Vampire
Faction: Morag Tong, Dark Brotherhood
Rank: Morag Tong Enforcer, Dark Brotherhood Silencer
Height: 6'3"
Hair: Long and a bit unkempt with a braid in the back, blackish/gray.
Eyes: Red
Skin: Darker than most Dunmer's skin.
Build: Tall and quite athletic/muscular
Class: Nightstalker
Class description: An assassin who proffers the dead of night to catch and kill his prey. The Nightstalker is an assassin but also a warrior who uses the gifts he has to defeat his enemies and carry out hits.
Skills: Marksman-68, Long Blade-70, Stealth-65, Lockpicking and overall illegal access-79, Light Armor-50, Survival-80, Spear-68, Parkour/Free running-90
Apparel: Long sleeved baggy black shirt, red sash around the waist, long baggy black pants, red leg wraps, moccasins, red shoulder cape (think Ezio's cape from AC2), black Hood. Thick brown leather briastplate, shoulder guards, vambraces, and greaves, all ornately inscribed.
Weapons: Yew Longbow, 30 Dunmeri Arrows, A 4 ft Steel Falchion with a golden cross-guard worn on the waist, 4 small steel daggers kept in his boots and in his sleeves (two in each boot, two in each sleeve).
Inventory: A sack of usually 50-60 septims, a small satchel with various poisons, a flask of greef, a bag of jerky.
Personality/traits: Very pleasant to be around, but has a short temper with certain people he just finds he can't stand to be around. He is just an honorable vampire, but a dangerous one.
Bio: Born on Vvardenfell in the town of Balmora, Veren ,or Nerendas as he was called back then, was the son of the noble Dren family. He grew up very well, always going to Vivec every once in a while to watch the arena fights, as well as simply enjoying the life as a noble's child.
When he was in his early twenties, Veren was sent with a few bodyguards to go and check on Qwama Mine in the ashlands. His life changed forever when they were all attacked by vampires of an unknown clan. Being a skilled swordsman at the time, Veren was able to save himself.
He was bitten... and 3 days later, he became a vampire. When he returned home, he was hunted. He fed on guar and poor beggars. Making his way across the Provinces, eventually finding refuge with the dark brotherhood where he earned his current custom armor. Later, the Morag Tong heard of his successes and invited him to join. Although the Morag Tong and Dark Brotherhood hate one another, Veren has been careful to conceal his membership with the factions. Besides, easy access to blood and killing.
After watching some of his former masters die, decades went by as the vampire stalked and killed. But he had a code of honor about him with his killing. And now he serves in the Dark Blood Guild. His future with them is yet unknown.
History: Josh-Gro-Grahz Name: Daris Arval, goes by Lord Daris, Lord Arval, or just plain Daris.
Race: Dunmer
Gender: Male
Age: 234 (looks 19)
Birthsign: The Thief
Bloodline: Berne
Clan: Dark Blood Guild
Rank: Night Blood
Faction: Ex Dark Brotherhood
Rank: Silencer
Height: 5 feet
Hair: Windswept,medium,bluish black
Eyes: Red
Skin: Darkish Blue
Tattoos/scars: N/A
Build: Athletic
Class: Assassin
Class description: As an Assassin you stalk the streets and rooftops of the city, waiting for the opurtunity to take your target out in what ever way you please, be it stealthy, or be it a massacare. As an Assassin the skills you have make you a ghost, make you untouchable, but only if you know how to use them.
Skills: Stealth, Blade, Acrobatics, Free Running, Athletics, Speech, Light Armor, Heavy Armor, Armourer, Repair
Apparel: Shrouded Armor, Black Hand Robe over top the armor.
Weapons: http://img.qj.net/uploads/articles_module/...qjpreviewth.jpg http://i211.photobucket.com/albums/bb244/m..._Sword_of__.jpg
Inventory: Small Pouch containing 75 Septims, Small Bag he carries, x5 Vials Of Human Blood (just in case)
Personality/traits: Daris is pretty laid back and calm most of the time, he is funny at the right times but when it come to something that is not meant for jokes he will shut up.
Bio: Born into one of Cyrodiil's Noble Dunmer Families Daris had it all, money, women, and everything you could ever need. He had the life of an Emperor, all until he got in a fight with a guy who stole his girl friend at age sixteen. Daris attacked this man at an Inn were he was eating with Daris's girl friend, they fought for twenty minutes clobbering each other over and over until the other boy bit Daris neck and Daris grabbed a door stop and shoved it into the other boys chest and penetrated his heart, Daris then ran after these events and passed out in an alley, when he woke up he was in the alley he was stronger, he could feel it. Daris had no idea what was going on but he liked the feeling he had.
Later when Daris awoke from he tried to return to his, Mother, Father, and Sister, but they would not accept him because they could see he was a vampire, Daris out of anger murdered all three of them and then fled to the woods. He passed out in the middle of no were and was awoken in the middle of the night by a man, he did not know this mans name bu the man gave him an opportunity he could not refuse, a membership in the Dark Brotherhood.
Years passed and Daris was a Silencer in the Dark Brotherhood, but he was getting bored with this life and wanted new adventures so he retired from the Brotherhood and found new life as a Bandit, but not a normal Bandit wanting money, he was a Bandit who wanted the blood of his victims. He did this for years and years and was later introduced to the Dark Blood guild and he joined. That is were he was been since there, with the Guild.
History: FC4 Name: Hans Svenson
Race: Nord Vampire
Gender: Male
Age: 51 (Bitten at age 11)
Birthsign: The Serpent
Bloodline: Other: Khulari
Clan: Rogue
Rank: Rogue
Faction: Thieves Guild
Rank: Prowler
Height: 4' 7"
Hair: Close cut, military style, dark golden with silver strands
Eyes: His eyes resemble cat eyes, and are colored a soft steel color.
Skin: His skin is very fair toned.
Tattoos/scars: He has a large amount of cuts and scratches on his arms and legs, signs of his training. He has two fang marks on his neck near his shoulder, which he hides with clothes.
Build: Hans' build is not what one would expect of a 51 yr old. Rather, he is very lean and not muscled, his body underdeveloped. Despite forty years of vampirism, he has not aged a day over 11 years physically. He is therefore short and wiry, looking more like that tough Nordic bully in the town school than a 51 year old murderer of the night.
Class: Orphan/Apprentice Adventurer
Class description: He describes himself best as an Adventurer's Apprentice, though who it is he is apprenticing is anyone's guess. As an apprentice adventurer, though, he is supposedly learning the skills of combat and survival.
Skills: Shortsword (65), Blocking (60), Unarmored melee (70), Wilderness survival (80), Stealth (60), Dodging (55), Martial Arts (50), Acrobatics (55)
Apparel: Child's leather boots, with pant legs tucked into them. The pants are deerskin and held up by a black leather belt. A cotton short sleeve tunic is tucked into the pants. He wears a green traveling cloak in the fashion of a cape, the hood down unless the sun is out, and only when the sun is out does the cloak cover over him. Around his head he wears a strip of dark grey cloth, the knot on the back of his head and slack cloth falling to his shoulders from the knot. For armor he has an iron buckler, burnished and painted to resemble wood.
Weapons: Steel shortsword and steel dagger.
Inventory: In a pouch on his belt he carries some money and rations. A waterskin slung over his shoulder carries his water.
Minor Power: Walking through walls
Major Power: Control and Possession of Animals
Misc: -Bloodline Power: Paralysis
-Due to his youthful body at the time of infection, while he has unnatural strength like all vampires, he is only as strong as a full-grown Orc; thereby weaker than his fellow advlt vampires. However, with his smaller frame comes immense speed, agility, and stealth; Hans can move a hair faster, bend a lot easier, and move a little quieter than his advlt counterparts.
Personality/traits: Hans is like a child in body and mind, not quite fully mature. However, within the child is also a man, a mature man who is vastly intelligent and skilled. But Hans is still a child at heart, and longs to be a man. He idolizes those strong, powerful and heroic men, longing to be them. And because he never can be, he also loathes them and young, strong men are often his favorite prey. He preys upon them to prove himself better than they are. He is always trying to prove himself capable of whatever an advlt can do.
He also preys upon young women and girls, but for another reason. Being eternally eleven years old, he is trapped in a perpetual state of early puberty, which means his masculine desires are? hard to fulfill. So, he will [censored] and feed upon young, beautiful women and girls to try to fulfill those desires.
Being locked in eternal puberty brings with it other side effects. He is temperamental to an extreme, sometimes throwing tantrums about the littlest things. He has problems with authority in a very pre-teen manner, being stubborn and determined. However, he is as loving and loyal as any child can be.
Bio: Hans was born and raised in the Dragontail mountains, in a small Nordic village along Skyrim's border. The son of a warrior, he was being trained for battle; one night his father was being sent off on to an unknown battle. Being all to eager to accompany his father and feeling himself ready for battle (even though he wasn't) Hans followed the men from afar, hoping to watch his father's magnificent fighting prowess. What he did not know was that the men were hunting a vampire of the Khulari clan. The vampire had laid a trap for them, paralyzing the men and Hans. None of the men were left alive, but the vampire had taken an interest to Hans, and instead infected him.
Hans had gone unconscious after the battle and did not awaken until he was already undead. Not knowing what he had become, he returned home; only for chaos to ensue. Frightened and hungry, he was forced to kill his entire town in order to survive, as they all sought to kill him. After the tragedy he went rouge, seeking to learn what he was, how to live with it? and how to kill the vampire that made him.
RP History: Adeth Name: Brandon Locke, But simply you can call him Bran
Race: Nord Werewolf
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Birthsign: The Apprentice
Height: 160cm and 5'3
Hair: a short ponytail, just long enough to be tied. dark Sand colored
Eyes: Light yellow, Much brighter in wolf form
Skin: Pale-ish
Tattoos/scars: a large bite mark on his left arm
Build: Short and very skinny, unlike most nords. Child like but with a thin face that says otherwise.
Class: Healer / scholar apprentice
Class description: One who wants to know all, the lore, healing magic and herbs.
Skills: Alchemy, restoration, quarter staff, dagger, speechcraft and mysticism (of that only a few minor spells)
Apparel: dark wool pants, a dark shirt and over those usually a brown robe, which makes him look even shorter.
Weapons: a quarter staff and a small steel dagger, mostly used for alchemy
Inventory: a book on herbs, a mortar and a pestle, some coins, a quill and ink and a notebook
Misc: Has a split personality, doesn't know of it nor does he know of his condition. The split personality is like a wolf, but doesn't have the looks of one. It' s wild and untamed, most likely violent as well. He also has a good nose. has a good nose.
Personality/traits: Not too organized, pretty much a dreamer, serious at heart but you might think him easy going. He doesn't like being short and skinny, so he dislikes being reminded but occasionally he uses his childlike looks to take advantage. He's philosophical and good at noticing little things. Likes puzzles.
Sometimes he dreams of running in the woods as a wolf and hunting for prey. He likes to write those dreams down in his little book.
Bio: About ten years ago, an old monk from the weynon priory found a young boy who was badly wounded and very feverish. The monk carried him to the priory and tended to his wounds for a few weeks. The monk told him stories of places where he had seen, and of the nine. The boy liked the stories and grew to believe in them and trust in them. After a week or so since his recovery Bran disappeared but was found the next day sleeping in a near by forest, all bloody. There also was also a half-eaten deer nearby.
The priests in the priory knew of his condition but no one had the heart to tell him. They tried to keep it a secret from the other apprentice monks who were some years older than him. They bullied him and called him a dogboy. Bran never knew why nor did he care why, he just thought maybe they were jealous because he could smell where they've been. Sometimes he paid them back by turning them in when they went somewhere they shouldn't and when they did something else.
Bran also wants to get out to the world, he's bored of reading of it.
Hstory: AulakaussName: S'Kragki Jonathin Zeterra (sometimes called Dro'Kragki for his age)
Gender: Male
Race: Skyrim Khajiit
Age: 211; Appears ~50 when healthy
Birthdate: 3E 322, 13th of Sun's Dawn
Birthplace: Small village near Skyrim-Cyrodiil border.
Bloodline: Cyrodiilic
Class: Wanderer
Class Focus: Combat
Major Skills: Long Blade (90), Unarmored (80), Athletics (76), Acrobatics (75), Crossbows (67)
Minor Skills: Block (60), Weapon Repair (55), Restoration (55), Alteration (50), Destruction (50)
Birthsign: The Lover
Clan: The Dark Blood Guild
Rank: Blood Vampire
Major Power: Transform into mist
Minor Power: Enhanced Strength
Eyes: Crystalline Blue, paled and tinted slightly red as a result of his vampirism. Due to this, his eyes look almost purple from a distance.
Hair: Pure white and for the most part just over shoulder length. Tiny braids are interspersed in his white locks without any coherent pattern. One of these is much longer than any other, reaching barely past his hindquarters, ending in a single metal clasp.
Skin/Fur Color: Skin is white like his hair and covered in the thick white-and-black fur of a snow-dwelling Khajiit.
Height: 6' 5"
Weight: 245 lbs
Build: He has the body of a man who spends a lot of his time hiking through the wilderness, toned for climbing and running.
Physical Description: S'Kragki is an interesting looking creature; over six feet tall and almost pure white with frigid crystal eyes. Though his clothing usually hides it all, his fur is marked with grey stripes on his tail, black ones on his limbs and sides, and has little black lines like paintbrush strokes on his snout and rings around his eyes. His face features a squarish snout and jaw, a typical pink feline nose and an almost constant expression of deep thought. Because of his vampirism, his hands and feet appear bony and his ribcage is visible at his sides.
Tattoos, Scars & Piercings: S'Kragki's ears are pierced with iron rings, two on the left ear and seven on the right. Has tattoos of both his mate and daughter's names on his left shoulder and great number of random battle scars.
Apparel: S'Kragki wears a green wool shirt with a pair of patched up old linen pants, tucked into calf-high dark leather boots, a black trench coat as battle scarred as he is thrown over it all. Has a pair of Orcish gauntlets, but other than that wears nothing that could be called armor.
Inventory: A brown leather pack containing a few vials of blood, a jug of Sujamma, decent amount of gold, a blanket and some food.
Weapons: A crude leather scabbard holds a beautiful, Ebony-handled silver longsword to his back and a simple steel crossbow with accompanying bolts sits nearby, attached to the same strap.
Magic: Hunter's Sight (vampire ability), Remote Manipulation, Convalescence, Heal Greater Wounds, Cure Common Disease, Sea Stride, Water Walking, Shield, Searing Grasp, Shock Burst, Lover's Kiss (birthsign ability).
Personality: Outwardly, S'Kragki is witty and arrogant, taunting opponents to amuse himself, and although it would be more accurate to say he does this to ease the boredom and sadness of living for an eternity, it appears as playful banter to the casual observer. He is often lively in the presence of company and generally helpful and kind to people of all genders and races, harboring no discriminations against race or social class. Though friendly, he doesn't make many friends, tending to hold people a a distance for fear of getting attached to them. As he has for years, he protects women and children fiercely if he sees them threatened and believes that no one should oppress another, regardless of power or status.
In combat, S'Kragki changes notably. The playfulness leaves almost entirely and his mind narrows to two clear objectives: eliminate the enemy and protect his allies at all costs. He fights quickly and brutally, using his speed and agility fully to his advantage. This mindset does not stop him from halting abruptly, though, if the enemy surrenders; once someone has thrown down their weapon he will not lift his against them.
Bio: S'Kragki was born near the border of Skyrim and Cyrodiil in a tiny settlement that native Nords avoided out of blind fear of its guardians, the Zeterra Sisters, a pair of psychically-gifted Khajiit women. The two sisters, Radadda and Karstine, watched diligently over their community for decades before Karstine found love in one of the tribe's males. A few months later, she became pregnant with S'Kragki, leaving the protecting work almost solely to her sister while she birthed and raised her kitten.
Growing up, the small Khajiit lived in the shadow of his mother's legend, pampered and spoiled because of her fame within the tribe. Despite the cushy treatment, Karstine trained him rigorously in magicka and his father, Ra'Tetri, did similarly with swordplay the moment he was old enough to lift a shortsword. He took better to blade than spell, but learned some basics in a few schools just to please his mother.
By the time S'Kragki came of age at eighteen years old, he was moderately skilled in blades, both swung and thrown, could cast a handful of basic spells, and was itching to see the world beyond the edges of his home. Headstrong and somewhat arrogant, things he never truly grew out of, the young man kissed his mother and aunt farewell, bade similar to his friends and struck out south into the Imperial Province.
After a few months of struggling to get by through hunting and gathering, S'Kragki found his niche in life while doing work for the Fighter's Guild, though his disinclination to follow rules eventually got him expelled after less than a year of service and he was forced to make a living fighting under his own banner. He spent much of his time in taverns and inns, listening to the tales of people and swooping in to offer his blade for coin when he saw a chance. The Khajiit lived like this for a good twenty-one years, even teaching himself to use the crossbow in this time span, before he hit an unexpected twist in his life.
While doing his usual scouting for troubled people in need of having someone or something killed, a Khajiit maiden of about forty years came in crying to drown her sorrows in ale. Curious and both sensing a possible job and wanting to help the lady, S'Kragki approached her. After buying her a few drinks, he managed to get her to open up. Apparently, her name was Ja'Perssia and until recently she'd lived in a small settlement out in the sticks that had been burned to the ground by bandits, her family and friends having been killed. She spoke of how she'd barely escaped and how she wished to end her life, and despite himself S'Kragki felt his callused, mercenary heart melt for her. Though he had no home of his own, he offered to provide food and shelter for her if she'd travel with him and keep him company.
As often happens when one spends a great deal of time with someone, the two became great friends over the next year. He taught her to fight and she eventually began helping him with his missions. Over time, their bond began to become a bit closer than that of mere friends, having fought beside each other for four years and watched over one another for six. They began unofficially dating and, within a few months, Ja'Perssia was to have a child, much to his shock and initial fright, and at the age of forty-five S'Kragki became a father. The child was a girl and they named her Tamara after one of Ja'Perssia's late friends.
When the small child began to behave strangely, seeming to react to their thoughts, though, the two became a bit afraid of their own kin until S'Kragki realized that his child had the same gift as his mother and aunt had. The abilities were explained to Ja'Perssia and subsequently nurtured as Tamara grew up. Ja'Perssia began staying behind at camp with their daughter when S'Kragki fought, but was always there to support him when he came back, tending his wounds and giving him reassurance and love.
Their near-perfect little world turned upside down, though, after he began getting ill and becoming almost painfully sensitive to light after clearing out a smuggler's cave. Tamara, now seventeen, gave him a mental once-over and, as tears welled in her eyes, told her father that he had Porphyric Hemophelia -one of the smugglers must have been a vampire- and it was too far manifested to be cured. S'Kragki insisted Ja'Perssia and Tamara get as far away from him as they could, but neither would obey him. After fully transforming, he managed to hunt at night, killing bandits and rogues in their sleep to keep himself sane and avoid burning in the daylight, thankfully never hurting either of his loved ones.
Immortality turned out to be a cruel curse. Tamara left them to pursue her own destiny at nineteen and neither parent heard from her directly again. Ja'Perssia grew old and died one night in his arms and Tamara, unbeknown to him, bore him three grandchildren and later died, leaving the vampire entirely alone in his own personal hell. Unable to die and unwilling to allow himself to be slain or commit suicide, the Khajiit has become depressed and despite appearing lighthearted to others is still suffering internally. The years after Ja'Perssia's death became a nondescript blur and to this day he often forgets what day or even what year it is. With all those he loved gone, the Khajiit eventually managed to find a kind of peace by using his immortality to aid those in need, from slaying beasts and bandits to hunting other vampires who terrorize the innocent to merely giving food to a hungry child.
He spent the majority of his existence like this, wandering in the wilds of Tamriel, until he was found by a member of the Guild and offered a place among them. Since then, he has called it home, though spending nearly a century fighting vampires has left him rather distrusting of his own kind. It is because of this he lacks close friends within the Guild, though it doesn't stop him from being kind to them.
ManuName: Jimri
Age: 65 (appears in her early 20s, she's been a vampire for 20 years)
Race: bosmer
Gender: female
Birthsign: the thief
Bloodline : cyrodillic
Faction : Dark Blood Guild (True vampire)
Mental Description: Jimri is a rather easygoing girl, with a shameless appreciation for the nice things that makes life comfortable. She hasn't the same appreciation for the law, but finds it easier to work within it's limit - stretching them a bit if necessary - rather than blatant illegality. She's a bit of a cynic, having seem more than her share of jaded nobles, greedy merchants, horny artists and the like. She's aware of the Green Pact and the Meat Mandate, but considers them irrelevant out of Valenwood. She is very careful when feeding, always using her magic to avoid infecting her preys.
Physical Description: Jimri is a somewhat small but pretty bosmer woman, with a nice visage brightened by two large green eyes and a warm smile. She's slim and well built, her body toned by a lot of dancing and riding (well, that's what she's telling, in reality it's more from climbing and practicing martial arts).
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 90lbs
Hair: light brown with coppery glint
Eye Color: bright green
Skills : Sneak, Unarmed combat, Security, Acrobatics, Arts (dancing and singing), Restoration, Illusion, Acting
Vampiric powers :Bloodline : human looking and immunity to sunlight when recently fed
Major power : Ability to fly
Minor powers : vastly increased speed and agility
Armor/Clothing: She usually wears a green brocade dress ? of a length and cut that nobody respectable would wear but which doesn't impair movement. The brocade's stiffness hides two pieces of mithril mail in the front and back, over the hearth.
Misc: From her childhood in Valenwood, she has kept an ability to eat with a smile things that would have more than a few self-styled though guy cringe in horror (tree grubs, liver just pulled from a freshly killed animal... that sort of things). Which she sometimes uses to amuse herself with the horrified reactions it causes.
Bio: Jimri is the third daughter (and sixth child) of a rather successful merchant, specialized in moving exotic articles between Cyrodill and Valenwood. During her adolescence, she learned some of the 'true bosmer' way of the hunt from a traditionalist uncle, but it convinced her that the imperial way of life was far more to her liking. From her father's wealthy lifestyle she has picked up a taste for dancing and singing, getting good enough at it to earn a living from it.
As a daughter of a merchant specialized in exotic curiosities, she enjoyed the hospitality of more than a few nobles, poking her nose into their dirty laundry out of curiosity. Until the day she was caught by his father's banker in his own office, checking her father's credit line (he had refused her some present, stating he couldn't afford it. She thought it a lie and decided to check by herself..)
Rather than sending her back to her father, the banker though he could use her skills. Basically getting into someone's entourage as the sort of artistic company often found around wealth, then sneaking where she don't belong to either check facts or pilfer some debtor's items of value. To this end he used some of his somewhat shady contacts and associates to improve upon what she already knew while publicly supporting her artistic aspirations.
After a few years of successful missions, her patron turned to the shadiest of his contacts to offer her both a reward and an improvement of her skill : the gift of vampirism. Jimri found the notion of eternal life rather appealing and accepted. Especially knowing that her 'benefactor's' bloodline would let her lead a seemingly normal life provided she fed regularly. Something her lifestyle makes extremely easy.
Jimri is now somewhat known as a singer and dancer, an artist any rich man can support to improve his receptions and display his wealth and taste. More conservative peoples tend to look down on her as a professional parasite and hanger on, not far removed from a courtesan.
She's a member of the Black Blood Guild thanks to her 'father', but has few contacts with them, though she sometimes uses her skills for the Guild's profit. She doesn"t care much about the Guild beyond a mean to avoid trouble when trespassing on some other vampire's turf.
Shadow666Name: Aric Wolf-Blood
Race: Nord
Gender: Male
Age: 30
Birthsign: The Warrior
Clan: Dark Blood Guild
Rank: Saber
"Wolf-Blood" before joining the Dark Blood Guild
General appearance: Aric has a rugged look about him, his face weathered by the harsh weather of the mountains. His eyes show the years of battle he has had to endure to keep his diminishing clan from becoming extinct. he has a fit and muscular body, built from hunting, running, and all sorts of excercise that had occured during his life. When he becomes a werewolf, his fur is a silvery white colour.
Height: 2 metres in human form, 2.8 metres in werewolf form.
Hair: Silver, long and rugged giving a wild look about him.
Eyes: Ice Blue
Skin: Normal tone for a Nord.
Tattoos/scars: Many scars have been collected across the year from many weapons and bite marks from clan members trying to take his position. The one most visible is the scar from a blade across his left eye. On his Right Shoulder there is a tatoo of a crimson wolf head, showing his original clan
Build: Tall and Muscular
Class: Hunter
Class description: A hunter is trained in Marksmanship, and the blade, but are also taught to be agile, and fight without the use of armour, and weapons.
Skills: Athletics (75), Acrobatics (75), Unarmoured (70), Marksman (45), Blade (45), track finding, Unarmed (70)
Apparel: dark brown pants, and Bear Pelts draqed over the shoulders.
Weapons: dagger made from the old Alpha of the Wolf-Blood clan, his fists. When in Werewolf form his teeth and claws are his weapons.
Inventory: Nothing except from a small wolf talisman given to him by a lover many years ago.
Personality/traits: Being the only one left of his clan due to betrayal, Aric has had a hard time trusting others since. But there are times when his heart warms up to someone, mostly other werewolves that do not have a clan, and brings them into his pack. Any who wish to threaten those under his protection will face one without fear or mercy. Being a born Werewolf, he knows not of the civilised world well, and as such is more animal in nature.
This mentally allows him more control as a werewolf, but only enough to know not to harm innocents.
Bio: Aric is a born werewolf, from a fairly unknown clan known as the Wolf-Blood, that have been sighted in the mountain ranges to the north of Cyrodil. His father had been the Alpha Male of the clan for as long as he could remember, and as he was born a Werewolf, he never knew much of the outside world.
Even though this was the case, Aric seemed to be more intelligent than most within the clan, and often planned many of his hunts in advance, choosing the perfect moment to strike and where, so he would be able to bring back larger prey. But because of this, Humans who have seen him before on odd occasions, wanted to bring the boy back to find out why a nomad out in the mountains was so intelligent. Aric had been interrupted during one of his hunts, by a group of hunters and was captured, only to have the hunters get attacked by the boy's father. Aric had gotten away, but his father had been mortally wounded. The boy was 18 at the time.
Without a leader, the Clan began to fight amongst themselves, and by doing so they began to make reckless mistakes. Many of the clan, enraged by their leaders death, retaliated against the nearest Human settlement on the full moon, and as a result, more attention was brought onto them. The next few months would result in the clan's slow decrease in numbers, with many being hunted by the humans that survived the attack. However the village was never found until one day one of the remaining clansmen made a deal with the humans to have a free pass if the lair was located. This resulted in many of their clan being captured or killed. Aric's sister, Sylvia Wolf-Blood was amongst the captured, and Aric had fallen from a great height, Being knocked down by the one who betrayed them.
Only Aric had survived the assault, and hadn't been captured, since he was thought dead. Enraged by his clan's decimation and his sister's capture, Aric ventured from the Mountains, and into the woodlands near Cheydinhal to begin the search for his sister, and to find a mate to rebuild his father's clan.The rage that had built inside him grew as he grew close to the place where his sister and other clansmen were being held. It had taken the Nord a year to find the tracks that led him to the heart of the imperial city Arena, where his clan were being used as entertainment. On the night of a full moon, Aric enraged, transformed, and slaughtered many of the guards, as well as any who was human, losing himself to the rage of his clan's demise. It was only when he spied the familiar eyes of his lost sister had the Werewolf stopped his assault.
Setting the rest of his pack free, Aric and the others fled the city setting fire to the complex that was the source of so much agony. However there was a man waiting outside of the city, who had been awaiting the Werewolf for some time. There was something odd about the elven man, something dead. This was the first time Aric met the Mystic Elf Vampire known as Sirius. After learning that the Vampire had been following the Nord for many months and observing his skills, Aric was offerered a propersition. His clan would be given the seclusion and safety they desired if Aric were to join the Dark Blood guild.
And as the years progressed, Aric became one of the guild's Sabre's one of the pack leaders of the werewolf half of the guild. His job now was to search for potential candidates and to train them in the ways of controlling themselves in their bestial form, as were once the ways of his father's clan.
Hstory:RingmanName: Isaac phalos
Race: imperial vampire
Gender: male
Age: 214 (looks like hes in his late 20s)
Birthsign: the shadow
Bloodline: Berne
Clan: Berne
Rank: high ranking
Height: 6,4 ft
Hair: chris Pontius or the crow kinda hair style
Eyes: blood red
Skin: pale
Tattoos/scars: a scar across his right eye
Build: muscular
Class: nightmare waarrior
Class description: A warrior class that uses stealth and not just weapons
Skills: parcore: 95,swords: 80,Unarmored: 68,Stealth: 100, Destructionion: 57
Minor Power: ability to walk up walls with ease
Major Power: ability to drain the life force of a mortal
Apparel: black cloak with hood, leather armor under cloak
Weapons: two ebony short swords
Inventory: 200 septum's,
Personality/traits: his fearful smile before a kill , unhappy face during the day, his size scares people
Bio: Isaacs parents were very rich imperials who lived in balmora and treated him like crap every day they beated him and left him in the seller till he was 28. One day he escaped his hell and went into the forest and set up a camp in a cave. Inside the cave was a group of Berne vampires ready to feast on his blood when the leader stopped them. He quickly turned him into a vampire and trained him to be a killer. 2 years of training and he became a cold blooded Berne vampire and wanted his revenge. The group made its way to balmora and found Isaacs house they killed the maids and butlers and made their way to Isaacs parents. Isaac killed his parents with a smile the Berne vampires made him a honorary vampire clan member
Isaac became a loyal clan member of the berne vampires always following orders and keeping his mouth closed when he needed to. During his prime in the clan they tasked him to find a once berne vampire who stole the leaders sword, Isaac followed the trail of the traitor and killed him took the sword to his leader and became one of the right hand men of the clan. Years after this Isaac heard about a group of vampires gathering for something in the morrowind region so he gathered his things and went on a hunt to find these men?
History:
» Mon May 09, 2011 11:04 am 
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