» Thu Feb 17, 2011 6:37 pm Original credit goes to Forest_Gump591
The Dead Horde
Timeline of Events
Year 4E32.
Divayth Fyr claims to have found the cure for corprus. Test subjects already infected with corprus show 100% improvement, becoming completely human in a matter of weeks. Tests on normal subjects (subjects without corprus) have shown the opposite effect; the subject transforms into a full-fledged corprus beast in a matter of days. Divayth Fyr decides to have the cure confined to his corprusarium.
Year 4E35
Divayth Fyr decides that one of his cured subjects, known only as Mike, is ready to be released back into society. But Mike has bigger plans. When Divayth takes Mike to Balmora for release, Mike steals a bottle of the cure, taking it with him.
One week later
For unknown reasons, certain citizens of Balmora have shown signs of corprus, and the disease is rapidly spreading. Divayth Fyr attempts to give those who are infected the cure, but then finds that the disease has mutated, forming a new, more resistant strain. Fyr returns to his tower indefinitely, trying to find a cure for the new strain. All clues point to Mike as the culprit.
Year 4E38
All of Vvardenfell has been infected, the status of Divayth Fyr is unkown. The disease has spread to the mainland, and corprus beasts have destroyed Mournhold and killed all of its inhabitants, including King Helseth. The Horde now moves to the other provinces, the majority heading toward Cyrodiil...
You play as a normal person, trying simply to survive the onslaught of the corprus horde, which is right at your doorstep in Cheydinhall or Kragenmoor. The Empire has lost all communication with Morrowind, and nobody alive is aware of the looming corprus threat. Ocato has dispatched a large portion of the imperial legion to guard the Cyrodiil-Morrowind border, spread thin across the contryside. You can work with others, go it alone (not advisable), or take the fight to the monsters in the fight to survive.
Some info on the corprus beasts.
About 80% of the horde will be mad up of generic, but powerful, corprus beasts. Although quite strong, they move obnoxiously slow due to their extensive muscle and bone decay. They can run clumsily to a certain extent. These beasts have heavily decayed brains, only able to make simple thoughts, and have only the most primal of instincts: To stay alive, and to eat.
Another 19.9% of the corprus beasts will be made up of the recent infectees; these beasts have only recently be infected, and therefore will not have suffered from the same muscle and bone decay as their slow counterparts. Their brains, however, are just as damaged as the others and stil cannot carry out complex thoughts.
The other 0.1% (one in a thousand) is quite different. This group is made out of corprus beasts that were exceptional in their life. These beasts had immense willpower as a human, and therefore retained much of their mind, stil able to carry out complex thought processes. These few can cast spells, use weapons and tools, even command lesser corprus beasts. Be wary of them, as they can match and even outsmart your character.
All corprus beasts, no matter how powerful, are extremely sensitive to UV radiation, and therefore stay out of the sun. Thus, they only come out at night, often hiding from the sun in caves, ruins, or even people's basemant's during the day.
The Groups
Map: http://www.imperial-library.info/sites/default/files/gallery_files/cyrodiillargelowrescr7.jpg
One group will begin in Kragenmoor, a city already decimated by Corpus. Locked in an inn with time running out, the group must escape and decide where to go from there.
One group will begin in Cheydinhall, where Corpus is just beginning to knock on its doorstep. The city has just had a few breakouts, and the disease is just beginning to spread and beginning to take over.
*More groups may be formed as more join.
Character sheet format
Name:
Race:
Gender:
Apparent Age: (How old you appear to be)
Actual Age: (How old you really are)
Skills: (Not necessarily those in the games, just whatever you're character is good at)
Armor/apparel: (Please don't pick anything better than Mithril or its heavy armor counterpart)
Unique apparel: (Jewlery, etc.)
Weapons: (Nothing ebony or daedric, please)
Equipment: (money, food, etc. If you have a horse put it here)
Physical Appearance:
Unique Appearance: (Scars, Tattoos, etc.)
Mental Description:
Short Bio:
Rules:
1. No ubering/character controlling
2. No one-liners
3. You are not immune to corprus
4. PM all character sheets to Jerod Kayne/Woolymammoth
5. Host's word is law. Disobedience will be punished by the host killing/crippling/dismembering/eating your character alive
6. No short posts. All IC posts must be a minimum of 50 words.
7. No OOCs without also including and IC.
8. Romance and cursing are both fine.
9. You know the '0.1%' of corprus beasts that can think for themselves? Well it is up to the hosts and only the hosts that get to decide who those are, when they appear, and what they do.
The Characters
Cheydinhall Group
Jerod Kayne - Aneteo
Spoiler
Name: Aneteo (An-Neh-Tay-Oh), although he prefers being called by Neteo for short.
Race: Argonian
Gender: Male
Apparent Age: Mid-20's
Actual Age: 27
Birthsign: The Serpent
Skills: Having traveled around the world on his own, Aneteo is skilled in the arts of survival. He can cook very well with what little he has and his fairly exceptional in sword play. The lizard, given his lanky appearance is also a good runner and climb objects like trees, cliffs and houses in an instant if he really needs to. Even for an Argonian, Neteo is very intelligent and has a knack for reading, usually anything he can get his hands on and knows a lot about Alchemy along with diseases and spells regarding the dead.
Armor/apparel: A simple chain-mail vest worn over a black shirt is his only source of protection. He also wears a matching pair of black trousers and a match of fur-gauntlets.
Unique apparel: A loose black robe that he usually wears when in public places, the long hood covers his face well; keeping it hidden from those around him.
Weapons: He keeps an http://www.wetanz.com/assets/Uploads/Telmarine-Falchion.jpg, complete with a leather belt and satchel with him at all times.
Equipment: A map, a handful of septims and a small amount of various cooking utensils stashed in his satchel.
Physical Appearance: Gaunt and lithe all around. Neteo is deceptively thin for his age and has a strange feminine posture to him, although he never really notices it nor cares. His scales resemble a stunningly dark crimson color with black splotches and zig-zags coordinating throughout his body, one may be able to find a few well-hidden patterns of dark green and orange.
On the lizards head rests a bush of dramatically long crimson spines that hang freely on his head and extend down his neck and a way down his back. His eyes are a bright orange-yellow mixture of colors. Neteo carries with him a huge number of scars and cuts all over his body. A rather noticeable one is a three-pronged claw mark dragging over his right eye and ending mid-neck.
Unique Appearance: A few of Neteo's long spines have been ripped or cut in certain areas, either small hardly-noticeable dents and scratches or certain areas of his spines completely torn off. Along with that, the lizard contains a more reptilian appearance then most other Argonians, he is comparable with a Morrowind-variant argonian however has less bent legs and more lizard-like hands and claws.
His feet are mannered in such a way that he cannot wear boots or shoes worn by other races or types of Argonians, instead of a human foot thats split into five toes, Neteo's feet only has three small apendages with a sharp curved claw at the end of them, this allows him to run further then most as well but denies him the ability to wear any sort of foot apparel. Though he doesn't really care as the reptile prefers walking barefoot.(http://luthrai.deviantart.com/art/Elder-Scrolls-SneakAbout-38541997?q=boost%3Apopular+argonian&qo=123)
Mental Description: Aneteo is more of a ... ''modern'' type Argonian. He doesn't bother himself with the rituals and dances tribal Argonians perform frequently. He has a firm grasp on grammar and can speak almost as well as a human, or mer can give or take an occasional mistake in pronouncing words. The lizard has a rather large repository of intelligence for a being of his stature.
Neteo is anti-social. He acts either oblivious or silent to others and doesn't interact with them unless he has no choice. In the rare cases of interaction, he mainly speaks his mind and offers his opinion -- not caring about what others think about him. He conceals a dark and twisted sense of humor over a thick layer of overall seriousness but will however occasionally crack a joke or say something inappropriate for self-amusemant. He also has a tendency of naming things.
Short Bio: Being the disdained son of a Necromancer, Neteo's reputation of the small community in Morrowind that his father's clan of grave-robbers harassed wasn't exactly held in high regards. The Necromancers main tactics were using scare tactics on the citizens and robbing merchant caravans on unguarded streets, eventually the townspeople grew tired of it and launched a small campaign to eradicate the dark individuals.
As the years past, more and more of the evil-doers fell to the blades and pitchforks of the town and soon enough Neteo and his father were the last ones left. In an attempt to save his scaly hide, his father tried to transfer his own consciousness into the growing mind of his son via a powerful magicka spell usually not practiced, however ran into a major setback as Aneteo drove his own Falchion through his chest, ending the wretched lizard's reign of terror on the small town. Hoping for a form of forgiveness, the young lizard approached the populace, telling them that it was over and he was never a part of their evil ploy.
Unfortunately, the townspeople didn't believe him and the Argonian was banished and nearly driven out by the same fashion as the Necromancers were killed. Since then, Aneteo has been a wanderer; exploring the vast lands and areas of Tamriel on his own and only interacting with other individuals when he needs too. Currently, he is in Cheydinhal, restocking on much needed supplies and obliviously awaiting the apocalypse that is soon to strike.
Misc:
-Likes to read
-Hates mushrooms with a smoldering passion
-Slightly racists against mer folk, mainly dunmer.
-Tends to give people or things nicknames.
Race: Argonian
Gender: Male
Apparent Age: Mid-20's
Actual Age: 27
Birthsign: The Serpent
Skills: Having traveled around the world on his own, Aneteo is skilled in the arts of survival. He can cook very well with what little he has and his fairly exceptional in sword play. The lizard, given his lanky appearance is also a good runner and climb objects like trees, cliffs and houses in an instant if he really needs to. Even for an Argonian, Neteo is very intelligent and has a knack for reading, usually anything he can get his hands on and knows a lot about Alchemy along with diseases and spells regarding the dead.
Armor/apparel: A simple chain-mail vest worn over a black shirt is his only source of protection. He also wears a matching pair of black trousers and a match of fur-gauntlets.
Unique apparel: A loose black robe that he usually wears when in public places, the long hood covers his face well; keeping it hidden from those around him.
Weapons: He keeps an http://www.wetanz.com/assets/Uploads/Telmarine-Falchion.jpg, complete with a leather belt and satchel with him at all times.
Equipment: A map, a handful of septims and a small amount of various cooking utensils stashed in his satchel.
Physical Appearance: Gaunt and lithe all around. Neteo is deceptively thin for his age and has a strange feminine posture to him, although he never really notices it nor cares. His scales resemble a stunningly dark crimson color with black splotches and zig-zags coordinating throughout his body, one may be able to find a few well-hidden patterns of dark green and orange.
On the lizards head rests a bush of dramatically long crimson spines that hang freely on his head and extend down his neck and a way down his back. His eyes are a bright orange-yellow mixture of colors. Neteo carries with him a huge number of scars and cuts all over his body. A rather noticeable one is a three-pronged claw mark dragging over his right eye and ending mid-neck.
Unique Appearance: A few of Neteo's long spines have been ripped or cut in certain areas, either small hardly-noticeable dents and scratches or certain areas of his spines completely torn off. Along with that, the lizard contains a more reptilian appearance then most other Argonians, he is comparable with a Morrowind-variant argonian however has less bent legs and more lizard-like hands and claws.
His feet are mannered in such a way that he cannot wear boots or shoes worn by other races or types of Argonians, instead of a human foot thats split into five toes, Neteo's feet only has three small apendages with a sharp curved claw at the end of them, this allows him to run further then most as well but denies him the ability to wear any sort of foot apparel. Though he doesn't really care as the reptile prefers walking barefoot.(http://luthrai.deviantart.com/art/Elder-Scrolls-SneakAbout-38541997?q=boost%3Apopular+argonian&qo=123)
Mental Description: Aneteo is more of a ... ''modern'' type Argonian. He doesn't bother himself with the rituals and dances tribal Argonians perform frequently. He has a firm grasp on grammar and can speak almost as well as a human, or mer can give or take an occasional mistake in pronouncing words. The lizard has a rather large repository of intelligence for a being of his stature.
Neteo is anti-social. He acts either oblivious or silent to others and doesn't interact with them unless he has no choice. In the rare cases of interaction, he mainly speaks his mind and offers his opinion -- not caring about what others think about him. He conceals a dark and twisted sense of humor over a thick layer of overall seriousness but will however occasionally crack a joke or say something inappropriate for self-amusemant. He also has a tendency of naming things.
Short Bio: Being the disdained son of a Necromancer, Neteo's reputation of the small community in Morrowind that his father's clan of grave-robbers harassed wasn't exactly held in high regards. The Necromancers main tactics were using scare tactics on the citizens and robbing merchant caravans on unguarded streets, eventually the townspeople grew tired of it and launched a small campaign to eradicate the dark individuals.
As the years past, more and more of the evil-doers fell to the blades and pitchforks of the town and soon enough Neteo and his father were the last ones left. In an attempt to save his scaly hide, his father tried to transfer his own consciousness into the growing mind of his son via a powerful magicka spell usually not practiced, however ran into a major setback as Aneteo drove his own Falchion through his chest, ending the wretched lizard's reign of terror on the small town. Hoping for a form of forgiveness, the young lizard approached the populace, telling them that it was over and he was never a part of their evil ploy.
Unfortunately, the townspeople didn't believe him and the Argonian was banished and nearly driven out by the same fashion as the Necromancers were killed. Since then, Aneteo has been a wanderer; exploring the vast lands and areas of Tamriel on his own and only interacting with other individuals when he needs too. Currently, he is in Cheydinhal, restocking on much needed supplies and obliviously awaiting the apocalypse that is soon to strike.
Misc:
-Likes to read
-Hates mushrooms with a smoldering passion
-Slightly racists against mer folk, mainly dunmer.
-Tends to give people or things nicknames.
Blademaster07 - Therra Nevellus
Spoiler
Name: Therra Nevellus
Race: Imperial
Gender: Male
Age: 59
Skills: Being a former Imperial Battlemage, this man was once a weapon of magic and mundane forces. His training includes being able to fight with any weapon though he is more skilled with a blade, being able to fight in medium weight armors as well as having advanced skill in ranged and touched Destruction magick as well as medium to basic skill in Alteration and Restoration. At one point he was also very athletic and agile.
Armor/apparel: His old chainmail http://homepage.ntlworld.com/gheathcote/Images/ChainmailSnaps/hauberk.JPG, which extends to his knees. Over this he wears a http://www.skornictwo.pl/english/jpg/armours/Byzantine_leather_lamellar_armour_Decorated%20with%20appliques_medium.jpg of hardened leather, which offers protection for his shoulders as well. He sold his gauntlets, boots, helmet and greaves, but kept the above pieces out of nostalgia and to protect his farm, so the pieces are well maintained. His regular apparel consists of average linen tan colored clothes.
Unique apparel: None.
Weapons: http://www.kultofathena.com/images%5CAH4214_l.jpg (xiphos), though the handle is covered in black leather to give better grip.
Physical Appearance: Once a tall, handsome man he is now proof of how age can ravage a man. He stands at a slightly hunched 5'8" but because of his farming, he is still fairly muscular and in good shape for a 59 year old at least. His face is heavily tanned and has taken on the appearance of beaten leather from the constant exposure to the sun, the wrinkles and the scars from his Legion days. His eyes are green but do not reflect much joy; instead they seem to reflect the horrors he witnessed while in service. His right leg, if you see it bare, is heavily scarred, and deep red as though its a burn and a slash at the same time and it cause him to limp very heavily on that side, limiting his mobility and it even gets painful when walking to long, which makes his harvest a very painful time.
Unique Appearance: HIs face has two noticeable scars. One from his lower left lip to his left ear which is rather thin. The other goes from where his right ear use to be, and up to his temple and is thick, crooked and worse looking. His right ear is completely missing from this wound. He is also completely deaf on the right side.
Mental Description: Living alone except for his two wolf-like dogs, he is considered by those in town and his farming neighbors as the surly old Legion veteran who lives in solitude and terrorizes children. They are right on two things: he is surly and he is a Legion veteran but he has a special fondness for any children that are brave enough to come up to his door. However, he is mostly considered so surly because when he goes into town to do his trading, he skips idle chit-chat as he wants to get his business done quickly. Despite his physical pain, he has never resorted to the drink or drugs to relieve him of the pain.
Short Bio: After his service in the Legion, he was granted a small bit of land outside of Cheydinhal. He has been there ever since, farming the land in solitude and generally avoiding going into the town. He rarely talks about his time in the Legion and dodges questions about his scars and where he was stationed and what not.
Race: Imperial
Gender: Male
Age: 59
Skills: Being a former Imperial Battlemage, this man was once a weapon of magic and mundane forces. His training includes being able to fight with any weapon though he is more skilled with a blade, being able to fight in medium weight armors as well as having advanced skill in ranged and touched Destruction magick as well as medium to basic skill in Alteration and Restoration. At one point he was also very athletic and agile.
Armor/apparel: His old chainmail http://homepage.ntlworld.com/gheathcote/Images/ChainmailSnaps/hauberk.JPG, which extends to his knees. Over this he wears a http://www.skornictwo.pl/english/jpg/armours/Byzantine_leather_lamellar_armour_Decorated%20with%20appliques_medium.jpg of hardened leather, which offers protection for his shoulders as well. He sold his gauntlets, boots, helmet and greaves, but kept the above pieces out of nostalgia and to protect his farm, so the pieces are well maintained. His regular apparel consists of average linen tan colored clothes.
Unique apparel: None.
Weapons: http://www.kultofathena.com/images%5CAH4214_l.jpg (xiphos), though the handle is covered in black leather to give better grip.
Physical Appearance: Once a tall, handsome man he is now proof of how age can ravage a man. He stands at a slightly hunched 5'8" but because of his farming, he is still fairly muscular and in good shape for a 59 year old at least. His face is heavily tanned and has taken on the appearance of beaten leather from the constant exposure to the sun, the wrinkles and the scars from his Legion days. His eyes are green but do not reflect much joy; instead they seem to reflect the horrors he witnessed while in service. His right leg, if you see it bare, is heavily scarred, and deep red as though its a burn and a slash at the same time and it cause him to limp very heavily on that side, limiting his mobility and it even gets painful when walking to long, which makes his harvest a very painful time.
Unique Appearance: HIs face has two noticeable scars. One from his lower left lip to his left ear which is rather thin. The other goes from where his right ear use to be, and up to his temple and is thick, crooked and worse looking. His right ear is completely missing from this wound. He is also completely deaf on the right side.
Mental Description: Living alone except for his two wolf-like dogs, he is considered by those in town and his farming neighbors as the surly old Legion veteran who lives in solitude and terrorizes children. They are right on two things: he is surly and he is a Legion veteran but he has a special fondness for any children that are brave enough to come up to his door. However, he is mostly considered so surly because when he goes into town to do his trading, he skips idle chit-chat as he wants to get his business done quickly. Despite his physical pain, he has never resorted to the drink or drugs to relieve him of the pain.
Short Bio: After his service in the Legion, he was granted a small bit of land outside of Cheydinhal. He has been there ever since, farming the land in solitude and generally avoiding going into the town. He rarely talks about his time in the Legion and dodges questions about his scars and where he was stationed and what not.
Kalarn - Tristan Draconis
Spoiler
Name: Tristan Draconis
Race: Dunmer
Age: 57
Birth Sign: The Lady
Hair Color: Midnight-Black
Hair Length/Style: Medium length, down to his shoulders and well-groomed.
Eye Color: Blood-Red
Skin Color: Ash-Gray
Tattoo/Misc.: Between the shoulder-blades is a faded tattoo of the Imperial Dragon. His right eye has a scar. On his neck is a scar from when his throat was slit in his sleep.
General Appearance: Tristan
Alignment: Lawful Good.
Religion: The Nine Divines, The Daedric Princes, Ebonarm.
General Appearance: He is tall and muscular, however he is thin due to malnutrition. Tristan's hair is well-groomed. Tristan also keeps himself very clean.
Personality: Tristan is bitter from his time with the Imperial Legion. His time in the Imperial Legion nearly had him killed multiple times. This caused him to become callous and hard. However, he is very honorable.
Tristan almost never takes sides, due to the fact that it usually gets him in trouble. His dedication to his friends though is extreme. Anyone who harms a friend of Tristan's can expect to be hunted until he dies. While Tristan is slow to trust, when it is earned it is eternal.
He also has a very strong distrust of orcs.
Class: Knight
Class Description: A man sworn to uphold the laws of the Empire and defend the weak.
Major Skills: Long Blade, Heavy Armor, Restoration, Speechcraft, Athletics
Minor Skills: Marksman, Block, Knowledge (Laws), Knowledge (Ettiquette),
Weapon: Silver Longsword
Armor: Steel Platemail and Steel Kite-Shield.
Food/Drink: A bottle of Cyrodiilic Brandy, wrapped up bread, and a vial of scrib jelly.
Alchemical: A Journeyman's Mortar and Pestle.
Literature: Journal
Misc.: None
Gold: Four-Hundred, Fifty Septims.
Biography: When Tristan turned three, his mother was killed by the Dark Brotherhood. An Imperial Legion Spearman was sent to investigate and found young Tristan sitting in the blood of his mother. The Spearmen adopted the young Imperial and taught him how to fight.
On Tristan's fifteenth birthday, he was recruited into the Legion. While he was deployed to fight against the dangerous orcs. During the War, he nearly lost his right eye when a longsword cut his face. During the Orc Wars, Tristan was renown for killing Orc Shamans. After peace was declared, Tristan left Illiac Bay region for good.
Tristan was then promoted to Knight-Errant for his extreme bravery in the battle against the orcs. Soon after he was deployed to Vvardenfell. In Vvardenfell, he was mainly used for rescuing pilgrims taken by the natives. Then the Blight came.
He promoted to Knight-Bachelor and sent to eliminate daedric cults and stop blighted people from infecting cities. At all means neccesary. When the Tribunal were brought down by the Nerevarine, he was promoted to Knight-Protector for his services against both the daedra and the blighted.
When he was sent back home to Cyrodiil, Emperor Uriel Septim promoted him to Knight of the Garland. Tristan got drunk one night and a civilian was trying to pick a fight with him. Tristan beat the civilian to a bloody pulp with his bare fists. Due to his high rank in the legion, he was discharged and sentenced to six months in the Imperial Prison.
When he left, he wasn't the same. He was changed... Bitter, callous, and able to kill easier. His cell-mate was killed defending him when a Dark Brotherhood assassin slit Tristan's throat. It became apparent to him that friends were rare, so he'd need to be careful on who he chose.
The Imperial Knight and Veteran was now a callous man, however he still didn't like to see harm come to tohers... He had a house in Cheydinhal, his old suit of steel full-plate mail, and his silver longsword. After he was discharged, he lived well enough to survive, but always missed the Legion. He would never sell the armor he purchased to wear when he made Knight-Errant.
Race: Dunmer
Age: 57
Birth Sign: The Lady
Hair Color: Midnight-Black
Hair Length/Style: Medium length, down to his shoulders and well-groomed.
Eye Color: Blood-Red
Skin Color: Ash-Gray
Tattoo/Misc.: Between the shoulder-blades is a faded tattoo of the Imperial Dragon. His right eye has a scar. On his neck is a scar from when his throat was slit in his sleep.
General Appearance: Tristan
Alignment: Lawful Good.
Religion: The Nine Divines, The Daedric Princes, Ebonarm.
General Appearance: He is tall and muscular, however he is thin due to malnutrition. Tristan's hair is well-groomed. Tristan also keeps himself very clean.
Personality: Tristan is bitter from his time with the Imperial Legion. His time in the Imperial Legion nearly had him killed multiple times. This caused him to become callous and hard. However, he is very honorable.
Tristan almost never takes sides, due to the fact that it usually gets him in trouble. His dedication to his friends though is extreme. Anyone who harms a friend of Tristan's can expect to be hunted until he dies. While Tristan is slow to trust, when it is earned it is eternal.
He also has a very strong distrust of orcs.
Class: Knight
Class Description: A man sworn to uphold the laws of the Empire and defend the weak.
Major Skills: Long Blade, Heavy Armor, Restoration, Speechcraft, Athletics
Minor Skills: Marksman, Block, Knowledge (Laws), Knowledge (Ettiquette),
Weapon: Silver Longsword
Armor: Steel Platemail and Steel Kite-Shield.
Food/Drink: A bottle of Cyrodiilic Brandy, wrapped up bread, and a vial of scrib jelly.
Alchemical: A Journeyman's Mortar and Pestle.
Literature: Journal
Misc.: None
Gold: Four-Hundred, Fifty Septims.
Biography: When Tristan turned three, his mother was killed by the Dark Brotherhood. An Imperial Legion Spearman was sent to investigate and found young Tristan sitting in the blood of his mother. The Spearmen adopted the young Imperial and taught him how to fight.
On Tristan's fifteenth birthday, he was recruited into the Legion. While he was deployed to fight against the dangerous orcs. During the War, he nearly lost his right eye when a longsword cut his face. During the Orc Wars, Tristan was renown for killing Orc Shamans. After peace was declared, Tristan left Illiac Bay region for good.
Tristan was then promoted to Knight-Errant for his extreme bravery in the battle against the orcs. Soon after he was deployed to Vvardenfell. In Vvardenfell, he was mainly used for rescuing pilgrims taken by the natives. Then the Blight came.
He promoted to Knight-Bachelor and sent to eliminate daedric cults and stop blighted people from infecting cities. At all means neccesary. When the Tribunal were brought down by the Nerevarine, he was promoted to Knight-Protector for his services against both the daedra and the blighted.
When he was sent back home to Cyrodiil, Emperor Uriel Septim promoted him to Knight of the Garland. Tristan got drunk one night and a civilian was trying to pick a fight with him. Tristan beat the civilian to a bloody pulp with his bare fists. Due to his high rank in the legion, he was discharged and sentenced to six months in the Imperial Prison.
When he left, he wasn't the same. He was changed... Bitter, callous, and able to kill easier. His cell-mate was killed defending him when a Dark Brotherhood assassin slit Tristan's throat. It became apparent to him that friends were rare, so he'd need to be careful on who he chose.
The Imperial Knight and Veteran was now a callous man, however he still didn't like to see harm come to tohers... He had a house in Cheydinhal, his old suit of steel full-plate mail, and his silver longsword. After he was discharged, he lived well enough to survive, but always missed the Legion. He would never sell the armor he purchased to wear when he made Knight-Errant.
GhoulishCheetah
Spoiler
Name:Denvyn
Race:Bosmer
Gender:Male
Apparent Age: early 20's
Actual Age: 22
Skills: Denvyn grew up in the forrests of Valenwood, so he was brought up as a great Marksman and Acrobat. He was always faster than his friends and he was also sneakier than they where. He learned how to cook and knows a great deal about poisons and potions. He also is pretty good with short blades and has great knowledge of fletching.
Armor/apparel: Dark Leather Cuirass, Greaves, Boots, and Gauntlets. a Black Hood
Unique apparel: A Golden Necklace (family heirloom with no special abilities)
Weapons: He has inherited a Long Bow made from a Maple Tree. He ties to keep at least 100 Elven Arrows with him at all times. He also carries around an Elven Shortsword he found on the body of a dead treasure hunter.
Equipment: Denvyn carries about 500 septims for food and fletching supplies. He has a small knife and a pouch full of arrowheads and feathers to make arrows. He carries a small hatchet to cut small branches and uses the knife to shape them into arrows. He tries to keep fruit with him where ever he goes, especially Pears and Apples.
Physical Appearance: He is average height for a Bosmer, and he is Skinny, but built pretty well especially in his arms, legs, and back. He has mid-length, black hair, and his eyes are a very spectral blue color.
Unique Appearance: He has a small scar on his left cheekbone from an arrow. He also has a tattoo of a snake wrapped around a very decorative sword on the back of his right shoulder.
Mental Description: He is always happy but he tends not to show it. He is shy and isn't too happy about meeting new people. He likes to be left alone and tries to seem dark and mysterious
Short Bio: Denvyn was born and raised in the forests of Valenwood. His father taught him how to sneak, use a bow, and a dagger. His mother taught him how to cook. His family wasn't rich, but made enough to get by. His family lived peacefully until Denvyn was taken away at the age of 12 by a group of assassins. Instead of killing Denvyn, they forced him to work for them. Eventually Denvyn became a great assassin, but didn't like working for other people. When he was 15 he decided to flee to Cyrodiil and try to start again, and try to use his skills for a better purpose. On his way to Cyrodiil he was ambushed by the assassin's he was trying to escape from. He did end up escaping but he was grazed by an arrow on his cheek. Eventually Denvyn reached Cyrodiil and decided to settle down in Cheydinhall.
Race:Bosmer
Gender:Male
Apparent Age: early 20's
Actual Age: 22
Skills: Denvyn grew up in the forrests of Valenwood, so he was brought up as a great Marksman and Acrobat. He was always faster than his friends and he was also sneakier than they where. He learned how to cook and knows a great deal about poisons and potions. He also is pretty good with short blades and has great knowledge of fletching.
Armor/apparel: Dark Leather Cuirass, Greaves, Boots, and Gauntlets. a Black Hood
Unique apparel: A Golden Necklace (family heirloom with no special abilities)
Weapons: He has inherited a Long Bow made from a Maple Tree. He ties to keep at least 100 Elven Arrows with him at all times. He also carries around an Elven Shortsword he found on the body of a dead treasure hunter.
Equipment: Denvyn carries about 500 septims for food and fletching supplies. He has a small knife and a pouch full of arrowheads and feathers to make arrows. He carries a small hatchet to cut small branches and uses the knife to shape them into arrows. He tries to keep fruit with him where ever he goes, especially Pears and Apples.
Physical Appearance: He is average height for a Bosmer, and he is Skinny, but built pretty well especially in his arms, legs, and back. He has mid-length, black hair, and his eyes are a very spectral blue color.
Unique Appearance: He has a small scar on his left cheekbone from an arrow. He also has a tattoo of a snake wrapped around a very decorative sword on the back of his right shoulder.
Mental Description: He is always happy but he tends not to show it. He is shy and isn't too happy about meeting new people. He likes to be left alone and tries to seem dark and mysterious
Short Bio: Denvyn was born and raised in the forests of Valenwood. His father taught him how to sneak, use a bow, and a dagger. His mother taught him how to cook. His family wasn't rich, but made enough to get by. His family lived peacefully until Denvyn was taken away at the age of 12 by a group of assassins. Instead of killing Denvyn, they forced him to work for them. Eventually Denvyn became a great assassin, but didn't like working for other people. When he was 15 he decided to flee to Cyrodiil and try to start again, and try to use his skills for a better purpose. On his way to Cyrodiil he was ambushed by the assassin's he was trying to escape from. He did end up escaping but he was grazed by an arrow on his cheek. Eventually Denvyn reached Cyrodiil and decided to settle down in Cheydinhall.
Kragenmoor Group
Woolymammoth - Josiah Moroun
Spoiler
Name: Josiah Moroun
Age: 31
Race: Redguard
Gender: Male
General Appearance:
A clean shaven head and face, his head a muscular oval with ears and deep brown eyes fitting on them perfectly. His tone is moderate for a Ra Gada, being the normal light brown. You can tell the man is in shape having a well defined muscle tone around his body. He stands at 5’10 being the height of an average man, but weighs in at 180 pounds. He is stocky and solid, his physical shape required by his profession. His hands hold scars more scars on them than any other part of his body, due to the fierce thorns of the swamp. His hardened hands allow him to grip anything well. With this, Josiah is more fortunate than many in this plague having the physical speed and strength to make an attempt at surviving, rather than being overcome before having a chance. Though he is experienced hunter, he is just about to leave his prime at the age of 31. His body is beginning to go into the next stage, and this may hurt him.
Weapons:
Josiah carries an oak bow of his own height. It is mounted on front with iron and leather is attached to that to allow more gripping of the bow. The oak has been prepared through wetting and drying and is flexible swamp wood, capable of bending. A thick linen-wool string is used to propel the arrows. He carries a leather quiver over his back, holding 20 or so light iron-tipped arrows. As a close range weapon, he carries an iron machete, mainly used to chop brush in the swamp (but however can be deadly to anyone or anything). He carries around a small dagger-knife, used to cut strings and other small things. Other than these basic “hunting” tools, he tries to travel lightly; due to the fact agility is needed in the swamp.
Apparel:
Josiah wears a green-wool shirt, followed by light-brown (almost tan) linen pants. His hands are bound with fingerless leather gloves to give him more grip on his bow. He wears rough leather-padded shin guards, as well as leather bracers to protect his joints from possible injury. Although not protected very well, he does not need to be burdened with armor in the swamp, as it is not necessary for hunting.
Miscellaneous Possessions:
Josiah carries around a few lockpicks for anything he may find in the forest, as well as a few coins (these have no value). He also carries a small sack which hangs from his belt, holding pieces of metal in which one would use to build a trap with. He also carries another additional small sack filled with strings for his bow, and another filled with hooks and such things. These are very small, not burdening the man.
Miscellaneous Information:
One advantage Josiah has as a hunter is that he knows some of the surrounding area, due to the fact he has hunted in it in the past. Of course, his knowledge of the forest and its animals don’t matter now…there is a new animal.
Class name: Professional Hunter
Class skills: Trapping, Marksmanship, Survival skills, Cutting, Climbing, Forestry-landscape knowledge
Class description:
A professional hunter, skilled in the arts of hunting animals and trapping along with having decent knowledge of the area; with all of these skills used for hunting animals, the hunter will have to manipulate these skills. He is no longer hunting animals- there is a new animal in the forest – and it is hunting him.
Psychological Profile:
Josiah is a serious, well respected, hard working man. He finds many jokes immature, though some are humorous in his mind. He doesn’t respect people who always try to get a “free ride”. When he sets his mind to something, he does it, but he often takes decisions into deep consideration. He often tries to see the opinions of others, but if the subject or decision is something he knows fluently, he will go his own way. He is laid back in a sense that is someone does not agree with him, he will not make a big deal or grudge over it. After this, if someone is to go into a fatal situation, he would not risk his own life to save them do to their foolishness. In other cases, he would. He lives by the quote “If a man has nothing to die for, he is not fit to live.” When he looks at failure, he takes it into a deep perspective. He learns from failure, and he realizes it is needed to improve on anything in life. Now, he knows failure means death, and he knows if he fails this time…there won’t be any improvement.
Bio:
Josiah grew up in Kragenmoor, and was raised as a hunter by his father through childhood. His interest in hunting fitted him in well with many of the hunters of all ethnicities. From the time he was a teenage boy, he went to hunt with his father. When it came time for him to become a man, he began hunting more frequently, selling many of his hides as he had always done as a boy. He developed into a professional hunter, like any man in any other city who hunted for a living. Now, Josiah is faced with something else entirely. Now the hunter has become the hunted; now the hunter is the prey. There is a new animal in the forest. He now has to think like the hunted animal, getting the opposite end of the stick of his original profession.
Age: 31
Race: Redguard
Gender: Male
General Appearance:
A clean shaven head and face, his head a muscular oval with ears and deep brown eyes fitting on them perfectly. His tone is moderate for a Ra Gada, being the normal light brown. You can tell the man is in shape having a well defined muscle tone around his body. He stands at 5’10 being the height of an average man, but weighs in at 180 pounds. He is stocky and solid, his physical shape required by his profession. His hands hold scars more scars on them than any other part of his body, due to the fierce thorns of the swamp. His hardened hands allow him to grip anything well. With this, Josiah is more fortunate than many in this plague having the physical speed and strength to make an attempt at surviving, rather than being overcome before having a chance. Though he is experienced hunter, he is just about to leave his prime at the age of 31. His body is beginning to go into the next stage, and this may hurt him.
Weapons:
Josiah carries an oak bow of his own height. It is mounted on front with iron and leather is attached to that to allow more gripping of the bow. The oak has been prepared through wetting and drying and is flexible swamp wood, capable of bending. A thick linen-wool string is used to propel the arrows. He carries a leather quiver over his back, holding 20 or so light iron-tipped arrows. As a close range weapon, he carries an iron machete, mainly used to chop brush in the swamp (but however can be deadly to anyone or anything). He carries around a small dagger-knife, used to cut strings and other small things. Other than these basic “hunting” tools, he tries to travel lightly; due to the fact agility is needed in the swamp.
Apparel:
Josiah wears a green-wool shirt, followed by light-brown (almost tan) linen pants. His hands are bound with fingerless leather gloves to give him more grip on his bow. He wears rough leather-padded shin guards, as well as leather bracers to protect his joints from possible injury. Although not protected very well, he does not need to be burdened with armor in the swamp, as it is not necessary for hunting.
Miscellaneous Possessions:
Josiah carries around a few lockpicks for anything he may find in the forest, as well as a few coins (these have no value). He also carries a small sack which hangs from his belt, holding pieces of metal in which one would use to build a trap with. He also carries another additional small sack filled with strings for his bow, and another filled with hooks and such things. These are very small, not burdening the man.
Miscellaneous Information:
One advantage Josiah has as a hunter is that he knows some of the surrounding area, due to the fact he has hunted in it in the past. Of course, his knowledge of the forest and its animals don’t matter now…there is a new animal.
Class name: Professional Hunter
Class skills: Trapping, Marksmanship, Survival skills, Cutting, Climbing, Forestry-landscape knowledge
Class description:
A professional hunter, skilled in the arts of hunting animals and trapping along with having decent knowledge of the area; with all of these skills used for hunting animals, the hunter will have to manipulate these skills. He is no longer hunting animals- there is a new animal in the forest – and it is hunting him.
Psychological Profile:
Josiah is a serious, well respected, hard working man. He finds many jokes immature, though some are humorous in his mind. He doesn’t respect people who always try to get a “free ride”. When he sets his mind to something, he does it, but he often takes decisions into deep consideration. He often tries to see the opinions of others, but if the subject or decision is something he knows fluently, he will go his own way. He is laid back in a sense that is someone does not agree with him, he will not make a big deal or grudge over it. After this, if someone is to go into a fatal situation, he would not risk his own life to save them do to their foolishness. In other cases, he would. He lives by the quote “If a man has nothing to die for, he is not fit to live.” When he looks at failure, he takes it into a deep perspective. He learns from failure, and he realizes it is needed to improve on anything in life. Now, he knows failure means death, and he knows if he fails this time…there won’t be any improvement.
Bio:
Josiah grew up in Kragenmoor, and was raised as a hunter by his father through childhood. His interest in hunting fitted him in well with many of the hunters of all ethnicities. From the time he was a teenage boy, he went to hunt with his father. When it came time for him to become a man, he began hunting more frequently, selling many of his hides as he had always done as a boy. He developed into a professional hunter, like any man in any other city who hunted for a living. Now, Josiah is faced with something else entirely. Now the hunter has become the hunted; now the hunter is the prey. There is a new animal in the forest. He now has to think like the hunted animal, getting the opposite end of the stick of his original profession.
Darth Ravanger - Amiel
Spoiler
Name: Amiel
Race: Imperial
Gender: male
Apparent Age: 34
Actual Age: 37
Skills: Amiel is skilled in combat with both sword and dagger, and can easily move in his somewhat unique outfit. Over time, he has learned how to track in order to hunt creatures for the Fighter’s guild.
Armor/apparel: Leather armor (whole set minus headgear), a ragged gray shirt, a worn pair of black pants, a leather overcoat, a chainmail shirt, and a left steel pauldron.
Unique apparel: Nothing
Weapons: A steel longsword
Equipment: About 1200 drakes, The real barenziah volume 1, a small amount of bread, and a bottle of mead.
Physical Appearance: A muscular imperial, he has hair reaching to the base of his neck, and has brown eyes.
Unique Appearance: he has minor scaring on his torso.
Mental Description: Amiel is a friendly individual, and is usually interested in meeting new people. Like many in his line of work, he loves his drink, and may be buzzed more often than not.
Short Bio: Amiel has been in the fighters guild since his early twenties. He has had a successful career in the guild, and has reached the rank of protector. Unfortunately Amiel’s family has been much more difficult, and he has on more then one occasion been forced to bury a sibling or cousin who died thanks to his family’s internal conflicts.
Race: Imperial
Gender: male
Apparent Age: 34
Actual Age: 37
Skills: Amiel is skilled in combat with both sword and dagger, and can easily move in his somewhat unique outfit. Over time, he has learned how to track in order to hunt creatures for the Fighter’s guild.
Armor/apparel: Leather armor (whole set minus headgear), a ragged gray shirt, a worn pair of black pants, a leather overcoat, a chainmail shirt, and a left steel pauldron.
Unique apparel: Nothing
Weapons: A steel longsword
Equipment: About 1200 drakes, The real barenziah volume 1, a small amount of bread, and a bottle of mead.
Physical Appearance: A muscular imperial, he has hair reaching to the base of his neck, and has brown eyes.
Unique Appearance: he has minor scaring on his torso.
Mental Description: Amiel is a friendly individual, and is usually interested in meeting new people. Like many in his line of work, he loves his drink, and may be buzzed more often than not.
Short Bio: Amiel has been in the fighters guild since his early twenties. He has had a successful career in the guild, and has reached the rank of protector. Unfortunately Amiel’s family has been much more difficult, and he has on more then one occasion been forced to bury a sibling or cousin who died thanks to his family’s internal conflicts.
Tanvar - Cyliss Elwynn
Spoiler
Name: Cyliss Elwynn (Sye-Liss El-Win)
Race: Wood Elf
Gender: Male
Birthsign: The Lord
Age: 27
Skills: Having lived a life in the cold forests of Skyrim, being raised an trained his whole life by his Nordic foster father, he is well skilled in living on the land and hunting. His father also taught him skills in the use of bows, as well as hand to hand combat in the form of martial arts. He is also well capable in conjuration magic, being able to summon the spirits of the forest to aid him when necessary. Aside from conjuration, he is very well able to use shield spells.
Armor/apparel: Cyliss wears a pair of very study leather boots, and armor that fits tight onto his body to match. His leather armor consists of his boots, chaps, cuirass with shoulder coverings, and half-forearm length gloves. Hardened leather covers portions of the armor on the chest, abdomen, thighs, knees, shoulders, and the tops of his hands and forearms. To top over the extra covered portions, pieces of chitin shell are affixed onto the hard leather. He also wears an old brown sturdy cloak with a hood.
Weapons: Cyliss carries a wooden longbow, hardened by fire and natural resin coatings. His bow is nearly the height of his head to his knees, and when it is not in use he keeps it on his back, with the handmade woven string over his chest. Attached to his wrists are adamantium http://userimages02-akm.imvu.com/productdata/images_ddca3fd156292969abf75317485d18c6.gif with black straps which he uses in melee combat.
Equipment: One large corked flask of moonshine, carved from wood with a leather covering.
Physical Appearance: Cyliss is an average heighted Bosmer, with a build to match his size, though he is rather well toned from a life on the land. He has lightly curling messy chesnut-brown hair that hangs above his eyes in front, and to the top of his neck in back, and sports a stubble of the same color on his face. His skin always tends to have a tan or mild sunburn. The top of his left ear is cropped off rigidly from a scrap with a wild timberwolf, but it tends to usually stay covered by his cloak or hair.
Unique Appearance: Cyliss' skin bears blue tribal markings all over his body, and up to his neck, though his face is clear of them.
Mental Description:Cyliss is calm individual, and always thinks before he acts. He is rational, and simple, though not stupid. He doesn’t concern himself with the affairs of gods, and doesn’t usually meld in with large or dignified societies. He rather enjoys drinks, laughter, and women, likely hobbies passed down from his Nord father.
Short History: Cyliss has never known of his origins, having never known his parents, or how he came to be in his foster father’s possession, as he never thought to ask. He was raised in Skyrim, in shack in the frozen forests with his Nord foster father. From the day very first days of his life that he could remember, he was being taught everything he knew today. How to live in the forests, to hunt, to fight hand to hand, use a bow, summon creatures, and make various things such as weapons, armor, and shelters. In recent years, his foster father has passed of old age, and passed on to Cyliss a gift of shing-style wrist blades, made of adamantium. He decided to wander the world in search of a new life to begin in another wilderness. During his recent travels, he became engulfed in the zombie invasion, and such is where his story begins…
Race: Wood Elf
Gender: Male
Birthsign: The Lord
Age: 27
Skills: Having lived a life in the cold forests of Skyrim, being raised an trained his whole life by his Nordic foster father, he is well skilled in living on the land and hunting. His father also taught him skills in the use of bows, as well as hand to hand combat in the form of martial arts. He is also well capable in conjuration magic, being able to summon the spirits of the forest to aid him when necessary. Aside from conjuration, he is very well able to use shield spells.
Armor/apparel: Cyliss wears a pair of very study leather boots, and armor that fits tight onto his body to match. His leather armor consists of his boots, chaps, cuirass with shoulder coverings, and half-forearm length gloves. Hardened leather covers portions of the armor on the chest, abdomen, thighs, knees, shoulders, and the tops of his hands and forearms. To top over the extra covered portions, pieces of chitin shell are affixed onto the hard leather. He also wears an old brown sturdy cloak with a hood.
Weapons: Cyliss carries a wooden longbow, hardened by fire and natural resin coatings. His bow is nearly the height of his head to his knees, and when it is not in use he keeps it on his back, with the handmade woven string over his chest. Attached to his wrists are adamantium http://userimages02-akm.imvu.com/productdata/images_ddca3fd156292969abf75317485d18c6.gif with black straps which he uses in melee combat.
Equipment: One large corked flask of moonshine, carved from wood with a leather covering.
Physical Appearance: Cyliss is an average heighted Bosmer, with a build to match his size, though he is rather well toned from a life on the land. He has lightly curling messy chesnut-brown hair that hangs above his eyes in front, and to the top of his neck in back, and sports a stubble of the same color on his face. His skin always tends to have a tan or mild sunburn. The top of his left ear is cropped off rigidly from a scrap with a wild timberwolf, but it tends to usually stay covered by his cloak or hair.
Unique Appearance: Cyliss' skin bears blue tribal markings all over his body, and up to his neck, though his face is clear of them.
Mental Description:Cyliss is calm individual, and always thinks before he acts. He is rational, and simple, though not stupid. He doesn’t concern himself with the affairs of gods, and doesn’t usually meld in with large or dignified societies. He rather enjoys drinks, laughter, and women, likely hobbies passed down from his Nord father.
Short History: Cyliss has never known of his origins, having never known his parents, or how he came to be in his foster father’s possession, as he never thought to ask. He was raised in Skyrim, in shack in the frozen forests with his Nord foster father. From the day very first days of his life that he could remember, he was being taught everything he knew today. How to live in the forests, to hunt, to fight hand to hand, use a bow, summon creatures, and make various things such as weapons, armor, and shelters. In recent years, his foster father has passed of old age, and passed on to Cyliss a gift of shing-style wrist blades, made of adamantium. He decided to wander the world in search of a new life to begin in another wilderness. During his recent travels, he became engulfed in the zombie invasion, and such is where his story begins…
What's happened so far
Day 1:
