» Fri Oct 07, 2011 11:15 am NO LONGER ACCEPTING NEW SHEETS
The OP:
Spoiler
Hey, you hear that? The guards are coming... for you! He he he he he.
The sound wakes the Imperial, the once dreamlike state vanished as the fear set in. He scrambled to the back of the brick cell as armed guards approached the cell door. The voices sounded rushed, as if they were themselves nervous. "What's this prisoner doing here?" a woman called out. Adeths' heart froze in panic and confusion. His vision blurred as they entered the cell and he was only calmed by the soft voice of an elderly man. The emperor! His eyes rushed to the dunmer across the corridor who's eyes were alight with anger.
That was the beginning to the greatest disaster to befall Cyrodiil. The fight through the sewers of the Imperial City was one that claimed the emperors life, but not before he could pass on the greatest gift of man - The Amulet Of Kings onto the street wise Adeth. On the directions of Baurus; he travelled to a hidden blade outpost where he found a kind man who kept the amulet safe. He instructed Adeth to head to Kvatch and find the rumoured son of the now deceased emperor.
This is where the tale of heroes and heroins alike begins. Kvatch, overrun by Daedra now holds an outpost for refugees of the conflict. Here, Adeth will meet the friends and possible enemies that will travel alongside him on the mission to save Cyrodiil.
----------------
What is this RP?
The "End Of An Era" RP is set during the Oblivion Main Quest and it is the objective of the characters within to complete the main quest and defeat the invasion for once and for all. Combat characters are suggested but not nessecary.
Where do I start?
At the beginning of the RP, you will start at the outpost outside of Kvatch, just as Adeth enters the camp. During the RP, you can contact myself and find out how we can fit you in.
Can we deviate from the main quest?
Yes, it is more than likely for us to deviate and some of the missions will be different but that doesn't mean the main quest will wait for us.
Map
http://0.tqn.com/d/vgstrategies/1/0/Q/1/OblivionMapAGM_v1.1.jpg
Rules
Rules for the RP:
1) No character control
2) No mind reading
3) No all knowing characters
4) Be Realistic
5) No werewolves or special chars
6) Normal rp rules
7) Romances are welcome, keep it clean for the children
8) Max 2 chars, if the other one of them is from the game, tell me
9) I am lord and master of this RP if i say that martin became a running pig because you ate a sandwich then he will...
10) Please PM the sheets to Myself before posting.
Character Sheet
Name:
Gender:
Race: (Any of the races available, because it's difficult to interact with any of the none game species - It'd be beneficial not to use them.)
Age:
Height:
Eye Color:
Hair Style:
Skin Color:
General Appearance:
Tattoos/Scars:
Class:
Description: (Overview of what the class consists of.)
Major Skills:
Apparel: (Clothing/Armour)
Weapons:
Backpack: (What's in your backpack/Inventory/Briefcase/Rucksack/Slipper)
Spells:
Brief History:
***
Uglius' (My) Character.
Adeth's Character
Rockmaul's Character
Moonjesters' character
The Unadoring Fans' character
Person From Anticleres' character.
Verloxs' Characters
Elgens' Character
Illusionary Nothings' Character
Gavrils' character
Aulakauss' Characters
Sibera's Character
HK-47's Character
Ikosahedrons' character
-----------
Hey, you hear that? The guards are coming... for you! He he he he he.
The sound wakes the Imperial, the once dreamlike state vanished as the fear set in. He scrambled to the back of the brick cell as armed guards approached the cell door. The voices sounded rushed, as if they were themselves nervous. "What's this prisoner doing here?" a woman called out. Adeths' heart froze in panic and confusion. His vision blurred as they entered the cell and he was only calmed by the soft voice of an elderly man. The emperor! His eyes rushed to the dunmer across the corridor who's eyes were alight with anger.
That was the beginning to the greatest disaster to befall Cyrodiil. The fight through the sewers of the Imperial City was one that claimed the emperors life, but not before he could pass on the greatest gift of man - The Amulet Of Kings onto the street wise Adeth. On the directions of Baurus; he travelled to a hidden blade outpost where he found a kind man who kept the amulet safe. He instructed Adeth to head to Kvatch and find the rumoured son of the now deceased emperor.
This is where the tale of heroes and heroins alike begins. Kvatch, overrun by Daedra now holds an outpost for refugees of the conflict. Here, Adeth will meet the friends and possible enemies that will travel alongside him on the mission to save Cyrodiil.
----------------
What is this RP?
The "End Of An Era" RP is set during the Oblivion Main Quest and it is the objective of the characters within to complete the main quest and defeat the invasion for once and for all. Combat characters are suggested but not nessecary.
Where do I start?
At the beginning of the RP, you will start at the outpost outside of Kvatch, just as Adeth enters the camp. During the RP, you can contact myself and find out how we can fit you in.
Can we deviate from the main quest?
Yes, it is more than likely for us to deviate and some of the missions will be different but that doesn't mean the main quest will wait for us.
Map
http://0.tqn.com/d/vgstrategies/1/0/Q/1/OblivionMapAGM_v1.1.jpg
Rules
Rules for the RP:
1) No character control
2) No mind reading
3) No all knowing characters
4) Be Realistic
5) No werewolves or special chars
6) Normal rp rules
7) Romances are welcome, keep it clean for the children
8) Max 2 chars, if the other one of them is from the game, tell me
9) I am lord and master of this RP if i say that martin became a running pig because you ate a sandwich then he will...
10) Please PM the sheets to Myself before posting.
Character Sheet
Name:
Gender:
Race: (Any of the races available, because it's difficult to interact with any of the none game species - It'd be beneficial not to use them.)
Age:
Height:
Eye Color:
Hair Style:
Skin Color:
General Appearance:
Tattoos/Scars:
Class:
Description: (Overview of what the class consists of.)
Major Skills:
Apparel: (Clothing/Armour)
Weapons:
Backpack: (What's in your backpack/Inventory/Briefcase/Rucksack/Slipper)
Spells:
Brief History:
***
Uglius' (My) Character.
Spoiler
Name: Traynu Asog
Gender: Male
Race: Nord
Age: 34
Height: 6'2"
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Style: Long, blonde and in a pony tail.
Skin Color: White/slightly tanned
General Appearance: Traynu is overweight but bulky with enough muscle to make use of his fat. He's not ugly perse, just not handsome. He's a typical farmer.
Tattoos/Scars: A few scars around his body, nothing eyebrow raising.
Class: Farmer
Description: Farmers are masters of destroying weeds and giving life to seeds and plants. Their magic is the power of water and their faith is in the climate. They defend their lands well and due to the amount of spare time - Usually take up fishing, hunting or other hobbies.
Major Skills: Athletics, alchemy, marksman and hand-to-hand.
Apparel: White cotton shirt with thick tan trousers. He also wears thick heavy boots and has a large grey trenchcoat.
Weapons: Wooden bow with two dozen steel arrows.
Backpack: Maps, carrots and apples, a few septims can be found in the corners.
Spells: N/A
Brief History:
Traynu was a farmer since he can remember, "And a farmer before then." so he says. He has a thick country accent but speeks in a normal fashion, "Unlike those other uneducated lot!" As he grew up, he became accustomed to the local brewery, fight club and bakery. All these things led to two divorces, one successful marriage and three children.
All of whom died in the invasion of Kvatch.
Name: Traynu Asog
Gender: Male
Race: Nord
Age: 34
Height: 6'2"
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Style: Long, blonde and in a pony tail.
Skin Color: White/slightly tanned
General Appearance: Traynu is overweight but bulky with enough muscle to make use of his fat. He's not ugly perse, just not handsome. He's a typical farmer.
Tattoos/Scars: A few scars around his body, nothing eyebrow raising.
Class: Farmer
Description: Farmers are masters of destroying weeds and giving life to seeds and plants. Their magic is the power of water and their faith is in the climate. They defend their lands well and due to the amount of spare time - Usually take up fishing, hunting or other hobbies.
Major Skills: Athletics, alchemy, marksman and hand-to-hand.
Apparel: White cotton shirt with thick tan trousers. He also wears thick heavy boots and has a large grey trenchcoat.
Weapons: Wooden bow with two dozen steel arrows.
Backpack: Maps, carrots and apples, a few septims can be found in the corners.
Spells: N/A
Brief History:
Traynu was a farmer since he can remember, "And a farmer before then." so he says. He has a thick country accent but speeks in a normal fashion, "Unlike those other uneducated lot!" As he grew up, he became accustomed to the local brewery, fight club and bakery. All these things led to two divorces, one successful marriage and three children.
All of whom died in the invasion of Kvatch.
Adeth's Character
Spoiler
Name: Adeth 'Rat' Rivers
Gender: Male
Race: Imperial
Age: 20
Height: 5'4ft
Eye Color: Blue-Green with a haunted look
Hair Style: black medium length rogue knot
Skin Color: lightly tanned
Class: Thief
Class Focus: Stealth
Major Skills:
security
sneak
acrobatics
lightarmour
blade
mercantile
hand to hand
General Appearance: muscular in a way an acrobat would be. http://4.bp.blogspot...dstale_bard.jpg
Tattoos/Scars:
Apparel: leather armor as show in the picture but without the lute and the swords.
Weapons: Renault's Broken Katana (Is cracked)
Spells: moonshadow, open easy lock
Personality: Very easy-going, pompous, light-hearted and naive. This is mostly a show with which Adeth denies his loser-side. Prefers cheap wines over the potent ones and has a low alchohol tolerance.
History: Not much can be said about the life of one Adeth 'Rat' Rivers. And the story of him ending up in jail is a short one, along with Valen Dreth. A few weeks before the emperor's murder Valen and Adeth planned a small heist, which ended badly for the both of them as Valen tried to double cross him. One thing led to another and the guards were alerted, beforehand arranged by Valen, and they both got caught.
Name: Adeth 'Rat' Rivers
Gender: Male
Race: Imperial
Age: 20
Height: 5'4ft
Eye Color: Blue-Green with a haunted look
Hair Style: black medium length rogue knot
Skin Color: lightly tanned
Class: Thief
Class Focus: Stealth
Major Skills:
security
sneak
acrobatics
lightarmour
blade
mercantile
hand to hand
General Appearance: muscular in a way an acrobat would be. http://4.bp.blogspot...dstale_bard.jpg
Tattoos/Scars:
Apparel: leather armor as show in the picture but without the lute and the swords.
Weapons: Renault's Broken Katana (Is cracked)
Spells: moonshadow, open easy lock
Personality: Very easy-going, pompous, light-hearted and naive. This is mostly a show with which Adeth denies his loser-side. Prefers cheap wines over the potent ones and has a low alchohol tolerance.
History: Not much can be said about the life of one Adeth 'Rat' Rivers. And the story of him ending up in jail is a short one, along with Valen Dreth. A few weeks before the emperor's murder Valen and Adeth planned a small heist, which ended badly for the both of them as Valen tried to double cross him. One thing led to another and the guards were alerted, beforehand arranged by Valen, and they both got caught.
Rockmaul's Character
Spoiler
Name: Ghoragdush gro-Urgak
Gender: Male
Race: Orsimer (Orc)
Age: 24
Height: 6 feet, 2 inches
Eye Color: Green (Orcish)
Hair Style: Black hair braided in the back, somewhat short
Skin Color: Greyish-Green
General Appearance: More muscular than most. Like most Orcs, others would probably call him ugly
Tattoos/Scars: The Septim dragon symbol on his right hand. He has on his torso tattoos dedicated to Malauch, Orcish in origin
Class: Imperial Legionnaire
Description: The foot soldiers of the Septim Empire, members of the Imperial Legion are tasked with keeping the law and dealing with threats. Legionnaires are most of the time clad in heavy legion armor, wielding a weapon of choice along with in most cases a shield. While they are taught how to use a bow, most prefer melee combat.
Major Skills: Heavy Armor, Block, Blunt, Blade
Apparel: He wears a tan shirt with a brown jacket and brown pants
Weapons: A steel war axe and an Imperial short sword
Backpack: Several bread rations, a medium-sized pouch containing septims, a set of "A Brief History of the Empire", a copy of the "Lusty Argonian Maid"
Spells: A weak healing spell.
Brief History (changed for this rp): Ghoragdush started out with rather little education. At the age of 13, his parents had him join the Imperial Legion. There, he gained a far greater education, reading books in his spare time. The Orc was stationed mainly in High Rock, and usually in or around Orsinium. He had a talent for tactics, and quickly rose through the ranks of the Legion.
Several months before the start of the Oblivion Crisis, Ghoragdush was transfered to Cyrodiil. He was given a "vacation" period for his loyal service to the Empire. After arriving in Cyrodiil, Ghoragdush was given the rank of Champion in the Imperial Legion, but has remained off-duty.
Name: Ghoragdush gro-Urgak
Gender: Male
Race: Orsimer (Orc)
Age: 24
Height: 6 feet, 2 inches
Eye Color: Green (Orcish)
Hair Style: Black hair braided in the back, somewhat short
Skin Color: Greyish-Green
General Appearance: More muscular than most. Like most Orcs, others would probably call him ugly
Tattoos/Scars: The Septim dragon symbol on his right hand. He has on his torso tattoos dedicated to Malauch, Orcish in origin
Class: Imperial Legionnaire
Description: The foot soldiers of the Septim Empire, members of the Imperial Legion are tasked with keeping the law and dealing with threats. Legionnaires are most of the time clad in heavy legion armor, wielding a weapon of choice along with in most cases a shield. While they are taught how to use a bow, most prefer melee combat.
Major Skills: Heavy Armor, Block, Blunt, Blade
Apparel: He wears a tan shirt with a brown jacket and brown pants
Weapons: A steel war axe and an Imperial short sword
Backpack: Several bread rations, a medium-sized pouch containing septims, a set of "A Brief History of the Empire", a copy of the "Lusty Argonian Maid"
Spells: A weak healing spell.
Brief History (changed for this rp): Ghoragdush started out with rather little education. At the age of 13, his parents had him join the Imperial Legion. There, he gained a far greater education, reading books in his spare time. The Orc was stationed mainly in High Rock, and usually in or around Orsinium. He had a talent for tactics, and quickly rose through the ranks of the Legion.
Several months before the start of the Oblivion Crisis, Ghoragdush was transfered to Cyrodiil. He was given a "vacation" period for his loyal service to the Empire. After arriving in Cyrodiil, Ghoragdush was given the rank of Champion in the Imperial Legion, but has remained off-duty.
Moonjesters' character
Spoiler
Name: Theadas
Gender: Male
Race: Imperial
Age: 17
Height: 5’11
Eye Color: Ice Blue
Hair Style: Short messy, slightly spiked up. A dirty blonde.
Skin Color: slightly tanned, showing a slight fair tint
General Appearance: Being young he has boyish look to him. He considers himself handsome and when you get past the dirt and grime he probably is. He has broad shoulders, and a strong but agile build.
Tattoos/Scars: He has a tattoo on his shoulder, a circle with s crescent moon with two eyes on either side of the moon. At the top of the circle a line continues up his shoulder onto his neck, up behind his ear where it circles up onto his face and does a semi circle around his eye.
Class: Rouge
Description: He likes to be stealthy, can duel a sword as well as he can duel with his tongue. Is willing to use brute force is pushed to it but on the other end if pushed to it knows how to run. (Would rather take a stealthy tactic then either of the last two.)
Major Skills:
Sneak
Security
Blade
Alchemy
Speechcraft
Acrobatics
Athletics
Personality: When in a bad mood, which is most of the time, Theadas has a bitter attitude, and a thirst for blood. When in a good mood, of with a group of friends he is actually pleasant and witty. Though he can be over confident sometimes he is also cunning.
Apparel: When in town he prefers to wear a dark green shirt and blacksmiths pants (but will wear what ever he has if he doesn’t have those.). Any other time he wears black leather cuirass and greaves. At all times he wears leather moccasins and a dark green, grey cloak.
Weapons: He carries two daggers with his at all times. He has a small knife in his right boot. He also has steel sword. It isn’t big enough to be considered a claymore but is big enough to be wielded with two hands which is what he prefers. When need be he can shoot a bow, but not very well.
Backpack: Other than his weapons he doesn’t carry much. He has a small knapsack that he carries on his back. It contains a mortar & pestle, some alchemical ingredients, some basic cooking supplies and extra glass containers for his poisons, potions and drinks.
Spells: None really a small healing and a small fireball, they both take all of the energy out of him. He also knows a small light spell which he can do pretty well.
Brief History: Theadas was brought up as a thief and a good one at that. Both of his parents were high up in the Thieves Guild and he was used frequently for small tasks, always successful. From this he became very over confident. When he was thirteen his mother was dragged off to prison. His father was kicked from the Thieves Guild for something he did; he wouldn’t tell Theadas what he did. They went to live out in the wild where Theadas’ father crossed a band of marauders and was killed in front of Theadas. After taking his fathers sword and slashing the marauder that had killed his father, apart and suggesting to his leader that he go with the band, he leader agreed. He was hesitant at first, threatening to kill Theadas if he didn’t pull his weight. He learned his sword work with his marauder brothers and managed to work his way up through the ranks to a command position.
Name: Theadas
Gender: Male
Race: Imperial
Age: 17
Height: 5’11
Eye Color: Ice Blue
Hair Style: Short messy, slightly spiked up. A dirty blonde.
Skin Color: slightly tanned, showing a slight fair tint
General Appearance: Being young he has boyish look to him. He considers himself handsome and when you get past the dirt and grime he probably is. He has broad shoulders, and a strong but agile build.
Tattoos/Scars: He has a tattoo on his shoulder, a circle with s crescent moon with two eyes on either side of the moon. At the top of the circle a line continues up his shoulder onto his neck, up behind his ear where it circles up onto his face and does a semi circle around his eye.
Class: Rouge
Description: He likes to be stealthy, can duel a sword as well as he can duel with his tongue. Is willing to use brute force is pushed to it but on the other end if pushed to it knows how to run. (Would rather take a stealthy tactic then either of the last two.)
Major Skills:
Sneak
Security
Blade
Alchemy
Speechcraft
Acrobatics
Athletics
Personality: When in a bad mood, which is most of the time, Theadas has a bitter attitude, and a thirst for blood. When in a good mood, of with a group of friends he is actually pleasant and witty. Though he can be over confident sometimes he is also cunning.
Apparel: When in town he prefers to wear a dark green shirt and blacksmiths pants (but will wear what ever he has if he doesn’t have those.). Any other time he wears black leather cuirass and greaves. At all times he wears leather moccasins and a dark green, grey cloak.
Weapons: He carries two daggers with his at all times. He has a small knife in his right boot. He also has steel sword. It isn’t big enough to be considered a claymore but is big enough to be wielded with two hands which is what he prefers. When need be he can shoot a bow, but not very well.
Backpack: Other than his weapons he doesn’t carry much. He has a small knapsack that he carries on his back. It contains a mortar & pestle, some alchemical ingredients, some basic cooking supplies and extra glass containers for his poisons, potions and drinks.
Spells: None really a small healing and a small fireball, they both take all of the energy out of him. He also knows a small light spell which he can do pretty well.
Brief History: Theadas was brought up as a thief and a good one at that. Both of his parents were high up in the Thieves Guild and he was used frequently for small tasks, always successful. From this he became very over confident. When he was thirteen his mother was dragged off to prison. His father was kicked from the Thieves Guild for something he did; he wouldn’t tell Theadas what he did. They went to live out in the wild where Theadas’ father crossed a band of marauders and was killed in front of Theadas. After taking his fathers sword and slashing the marauder that had killed his father, apart and suggesting to his leader that he go with the band, he leader agreed. He was hesitant at first, threatening to kill Theadas if he didn’t pull his weight. He learned his sword work with his marauder brothers and managed to work his way up through the ranks to a command position.
The Unadoring Fans' character
Spoiler
Name: Tyr Fair-Hair
Gender: Male
Race: Nord
Age: 33
Height: 5' 11"
Eye Color: Bluee
Hair Style: Just below the ear in length, light blonde, flowing naturally down his head.
Skin Color: White yet a little sunburned.
General Appearance: He is broad shouldered, yet his head seems a tad too small. Which, though not really noticable, makes him look rather strange.
Tattoos/Scars: None.
Class: Adventurer
Description: (Overview of what the class consists of.)
Major Skills: Blunt, block, athletics, light armour, armourer, marksman and alchemy.
Apparel: Green wool pants and a flax tunic for clothing. Leather boots, bracers and greeves, chainmail cuirass, an iron helmet and a round steel shield.
Weapons: Fine steel war axe. An iron bow and a dozen arrows.
Backpack: A small amount of bread, cheese, apples and venison for food, two bottles of matze for drink and a small bag of septims.
Spells: Woad, snowball and minor healing spell.
Brief History: Tyr was born in Solitude, Skyrim. His mother died when he was eight, his father was in the Imperial Legion at Fort Frostmoth in Solstheim, so Tyr, living on the streets, practically an orphan, ended up living in solitude too. One night when he was fifteen, a large brawl broke out in a tavern near where Tyr had been sleeping. An adventurer was killed and Tyr wasted no time in looting the body before the guards arrived. It was then that he aquired his axe and shield. He joined the Fighter's Guild and made some money and purchased his armour.
When he was twenty-seven, he moved to the Anvil chapterhouse in Cyrodiil, offering training to other members and enjoying the heat of the Gold Coast.
When Kvatch was destroyed, Tyr went to the ruins of the city to help protect the survivors and other refugees from those who would profit from their moment of weakness.
Gender: Male
Race: Nord
Age: 33
Height: 5' 11"
Eye Color: Bluee
Hair Style: Just below the ear in length, light blonde, flowing naturally down his head.
Skin Color: White yet a little sunburned.
General Appearance: He is broad shouldered, yet his head seems a tad too small. Which, though not really noticable, makes him look rather strange.
Tattoos/Scars: None.
Class: Adventurer
Description: (Overview of what the class consists of.)
Major Skills: Blunt, block, athletics, light armour, armourer, marksman and alchemy.
Apparel: Green wool pants and a flax tunic for clothing. Leather boots, bracers and greeves, chainmail cuirass, an iron helmet and a round steel shield.
Weapons: Fine steel war axe. An iron bow and a dozen arrows.
Backpack: A small amount of bread, cheese, apples and venison for food, two bottles of matze for drink and a small bag of septims.
Spells: Woad, snowball and minor healing spell.
Brief History: Tyr was born in Solitude, Skyrim. His mother died when he was eight, his father was in the Imperial Legion at Fort Frostmoth in Solstheim, so Tyr, living on the streets, practically an orphan, ended up living in solitude too. One night when he was fifteen, a large brawl broke out in a tavern near where Tyr had been sleeping. An adventurer was killed and Tyr wasted no time in looting the body before the guards arrived. It was then that he aquired his axe and shield. He joined the Fighter's Guild and made some money and purchased his armour.
When he was twenty-seven, he moved to the Anvil chapterhouse in Cyrodiil, offering training to other members and enjoying the heat of the Gold Coast.
When Kvatch was destroyed, Tyr went to the ruins of the city to help protect the survivors and other refugees from those who would profit from their moment of weakness.
Person From Anticleres' character.
Spoiler
Name: Aurelia (though she just goes by Rel)
Gender: Female
Race: Imperial (Nibenese)
Age: 18
Height: Six feet
Eye Color: Bright green
Hair Style: Short-medium dark brown, messy and held up from falling over her face by a simple black band
Skin Color: Tanned
General Appearance: Lithe sums Rel up pretty accurately. She’s not sickly thin, but there are some signs of undernourishment. There’s not much setting her apart from most other people who grew up on the streets, really, apart from the fact she moves lightly, with a sort of acrobat’s grace.
Tattoos/Scars: The one thing that does tend to draw the eye where Rel is concerned is a dark blue tattoo of a highly stylised sun on her left cheek.
Class: Though she likes to describe herself as an acrobat or sometimes even a bard, the closest to get to pinning Rel with a stable occupation is ‘courier’.
Description: There’s not really that much to what she does. She’s quick and agile, and she knows Kvatch like the back of her hand; that makes her ideal for a low-paid courier. It doesn’t really matter to her employers if she breaks a rib climbing rooftops or darting through alleys, while she needs any coin she can get – and actually finds it fun.
Major Skills: Acrobatics, Athletics, Stealth, Blunt (just staves, really).
Apparel: Rel’s outfit isn’t really flashy, reflecting her social background accurately – a light greyish blouse that might’ve once been white with sleeves to the elbows, rather baggy dark brown pants held in place by a narrow leather belt and brown boots that go slightly above the ankle. She also has a warm dark grey woolen jacket, slightly too large for her and most of the time kept tied around her waist, but useful as a blanket and for colder times. The only slightly more valuable part of her outfit is an iron bracer on her left wrist that bears slight signs of silvering in a pattern of two entwined snakes, now scratched off and hardly possible to make out anymore.
Weapons: A simple wooden quarterstaff.
Backpack: Two or three loose coins, some bandages, an apple.
Spells: Though she does appear to have some latent magical abilities, having had no tutoring Rel can only move around small objects that are almost within hand’s reach anyway; the largest she’s succeeded in moving so far was a cup.
Brief History: The only thing that Rel knows about her past for certain is that she wasn’t born in Kvatch, but in southern Nibenay. Whether she ended up in Colovia after traveling with her parents or by some other means, she couldn’t tell – she can only clearly remember making her way out on the streets, spared the occasional kindness by the Church or some charitable individual and otherwise surviving by doing odd jobs, pick-pocketing and the like. Eventually, given her penchant for rushing around Kvatch, she settled into the life of a low-end courier for the most part; it wasn't a glamorous job, but at least it wasn't illegal and coin is coin.
Name: Aurelia (though she just goes by Rel)
Gender: Female
Race: Imperial (Nibenese)
Age: 18
Height: Six feet
Eye Color: Bright green
Hair Style: Short-medium dark brown, messy and held up from falling over her face by a simple black band
Skin Color: Tanned
General Appearance: Lithe sums Rel up pretty accurately. She’s not sickly thin, but there are some signs of undernourishment. There’s not much setting her apart from most other people who grew up on the streets, really, apart from the fact she moves lightly, with a sort of acrobat’s grace.
Tattoos/Scars: The one thing that does tend to draw the eye where Rel is concerned is a dark blue tattoo of a highly stylised sun on her left cheek.
Class: Though she likes to describe herself as an acrobat or sometimes even a bard, the closest to get to pinning Rel with a stable occupation is ‘courier’.
Description: There’s not really that much to what she does. She’s quick and agile, and she knows Kvatch like the back of her hand; that makes her ideal for a low-paid courier. It doesn’t really matter to her employers if she breaks a rib climbing rooftops or darting through alleys, while she needs any coin she can get – and actually finds it fun.
Major Skills: Acrobatics, Athletics, Stealth, Blunt (just staves, really).
Apparel: Rel’s outfit isn’t really flashy, reflecting her social background accurately – a light greyish blouse that might’ve once been white with sleeves to the elbows, rather baggy dark brown pants held in place by a narrow leather belt and brown boots that go slightly above the ankle. She also has a warm dark grey woolen jacket, slightly too large for her and most of the time kept tied around her waist, but useful as a blanket and for colder times. The only slightly more valuable part of her outfit is an iron bracer on her left wrist that bears slight signs of silvering in a pattern of two entwined snakes, now scratched off and hardly possible to make out anymore.
Weapons: A simple wooden quarterstaff.
Backpack: Two or three loose coins, some bandages, an apple.
Spells: Though she does appear to have some latent magical abilities, having had no tutoring Rel can only move around small objects that are almost within hand’s reach anyway; the largest she’s succeeded in moving so far was a cup.
Brief History: The only thing that Rel knows about her past for certain is that she wasn’t born in Kvatch, but in southern Nibenay. Whether she ended up in Colovia after traveling with her parents or by some other means, she couldn’t tell – she can only clearly remember making her way out on the streets, spared the occasional kindness by the Church or some charitable individual and otherwise surviving by doing odd jobs, pick-pocketing and the like. Eventually, given her penchant for rushing around Kvatch, she settled into the life of a low-end courier for the most part; it wasn't a glamorous job, but at least it wasn't illegal and coin is coin.
Verloxs' Characters
Spoiler
Name: Greldon Moris
Gender: Male
Race: Nord
Age: 65
Height: 6' 4"
Eye Color: Blue-Grey
Hair Style: Short, Cropped White Hair
Skin Color: White
General Appearance: Greldon is an incredibly husky man. He is wrinkled, from a life-times exposure to the elements. One eye-lid droops slightly.
Tattoos/Scars: Many, but none are very notable.
Class: Cleric
Description: Clerics are the warrior-priests of the Nine Divines. Clerics are well-versed in scripture, and also in the art of bashing heads. They carry the Holy Cause right into the strongholds of infidels, and bring the light of the divine to bear.
Major Skills: Blunt (Expert), Heavy Armor (Journeyman), Shield (Journeyman), Restoration (Master), Conjuration (Expert), Alteration (Journeyman)
Apparel: Simple, unadorned clothes/Heavy Plate Armor, Steel Shield
Weapons: One-Handed Orcish Warhammer
Backpack: Several potions of Healing, a copy of For my Gods and Emperor, rations (3 days worth), and a spyglass.
Spells: Turn Undead, Heal Other, Heal Self, Shield, Fortify Attributes, Resistance to (element)
Brief History: Greldon was pledged to the Nine Divines at the tender age of seven. His father, needing a way to increase the family's status, gave Greldon to the Imperial Cult in Windhelm, where he was tutored in rhetoric, philosophy, and mathematics. He never took well to his studies, and was eventually sent to a backwater posting in the south of Skyrim. There, when a band of heathen bandits attacked his temple, he displayed righteous wrath in fending them off. When this was brought to the attention of his superiors, he was trained to be a warrior-priest, which he took to instantly.
He has spent most of his life tracking down and destroying witches, necromancers, and vile conjurers, as well as common bandits.
Name: Greldon Moris
Gender: Male
Race: Nord
Age: 65
Height: 6' 4"
Eye Color: Blue-Grey
Hair Style: Short, Cropped White Hair
Skin Color: White
General Appearance: Greldon is an incredibly husky man. He is wrinkled, from a life-times exposure to the elements. One eye-lid droops slightly.
Tattoos/Scars: Many, but none are very notable.
Class: Cleric
Description: Clerics are the warrior-priests of the Nine Divines. Clerics are well-versed in scripture, and also in the art of bashing heads. They carry the Holy Cause right into the strongholds of infidels, and bring the light of the divine to bear.
Major Skills: Blunt (Expert), Heavy Armor (Journeyman), Shield (Journeyman), Restoration (Master), Conjuration (Expert), Alteration (Journeyman)
Apparel: Simple, unadorned clothes/Heavy Plate Armor, Steel Shield
Weapons: One-Handed Orcish Warhammer
Backpack: Several potions of Healing, a copy of For my Gods and Emperor, rations (3 days worth), and a spyglass.
Spells: Turn Undead, Heal Other, Heal Self, Shield, Fortify Attributes, Resistance to (element)
Brief History: Greldon was pledged to the Nine Divines at the tender age of seven. His father, needing a way to increase the family's status, gave Greldon to the Imperial Cult in Windhelm, where he was tutored in rhetoric, philosophy, and mathematics. He never took well to his studies, and was eventually sent to a backwater posting in the south of Skyrim. There, when a band of heathen bandits attacked his temple, he displayed righteous wrath in fending them off. When this was brought to the attention of his superiors, he was trained to be a warrior-priest, which he took to instantly.
He has spent most of his life tracking down and destroying witches, necromancers, and vile conjurers, as well as common bandits.
Spoiler
I don't plan on carrying Greldon past Kvatch, so I also want a second character that will be carried on for however long the RP lasts.
Name: Cassius of Chorrol
Gender: Male
Race: Imperial
Age: 22
Height: 5' 7"
Eye Color: Grey
Hair Style: Short ; Blond
Skin Color: White
General Appearance: Cassius is what one would call "average" in all respects. He's moderately good looking, of average height, and is easily passed over in a crowd
Tattoos/Scars: None
Class: Fighter
Description: Soldiers, brigands, arena warriors, knights, all are Fighters. Fighters fight using heavy weapons, and will wear whatever armor comes their way. They are also well-versed in the use of shields, and train themselves in athletics.
Major Skills: Blade (Journeyman), Block (Apprentice), Athletics (Journeyman), Light Armor (Journeyman), Heavy Armor (Apprentice), Sneak (Journeyman), Marksman (Apprentice)
Apparel: http://media.giantbomb.com/uploads/12/121701/1864561-dark_souls_warrior_super.jpg
Weapons: http://www.ucc.asn.au/~warlock/MCRWA/Combat/Shields_Weapons/Longsword1.jpg
Backpack: Two potions of healing, 200 septims, a blanket, a winter cloak, and a bedroll
Spells: None
Brief History: Cassius, like most Colovian boys, was born to farmers. He, however, dreamed of being a great warrior, and set off to participate in the Arena games in Kvatch. He was caught in the daedric invasion, and managed to fight to the city gate. He was wounded, but is receiving care in the refugee camp.
I don't plan on carrying Greldon past Kvatch, so I also want a second character that will be carried on for however long the RP lasts.
Name: Cassius of Chorrol
Gender: Male
Race: Imperial
Age: 22
Height: 5' 7"
Eye Color: Grey
Hair Style: Short ; Blond
Skin Color: White
General Appearance: Cassius is what one would call "average" in all respects. He's moderately good looking, of average height, and is easily passed over in a crowd
Tattoos/Scars: None
Class: Fighter
Description: Soldiers, brigands, arena warriors, knights, all are Fighters. Fighters fight using heavy weapons, and will wear whatever armor comes their way. They are also well-versed in the use of shields, and train themselves in athletics.
Major Skills: Blade (Journeyman), Block (Apprentice), Athletics (Journeyman), Light Armor (Journeyman), Heavy Armor (Apprentice), Sneak (Journeyman), Marksman (Apprentice)
Apparel: http://media.giantbomb.com/uploads/12/121701/1864561-dark_souls_warrior_super.jpg
Weapons: http://www.ucc.asn.au/~warlock/MCRWA/Combat/Shields_Weapons/Longsword1.jpg
Backpack: Two potions of healing, 200 septims, a blanket, a winter cloak, and a bedroll
Spells: None
Brief History: Cassius, like most Colovian boys, was born to farmers. He, however, dreamed of being a great warrior, and set off to participate in the Arena games in Kvatch. He was caught in the daedric invasion, and managed to fight to the city gate. He was wounded, but is receiving care in the refugee camp.
Elgens' Character
Spoiler
Full name: William Stone
Name for other RPers to call your character: Bill, Will, whatevah.
Race: Breton
Gender: Male
Age: 25
Focus: Stealth
Skills: Marksman, Blade, Wilderness survival.
General appearance: Dark, half long hair is just barely reaching in front of William's eyes, not hindering his sight. He has a body unlike most bretons, as he is rather fit, but no really strong man. His line of work demands a bit of strength and agility. He wears his leather armour as if he never done otherwise and has quick eyes, often scanning the terrain and people around him. His longsword looks as thought it is meant to be by his side, and his bow shows the time and energy this man has spent making it. He is truly bound to his weapons, and they have never failed him when he needed them. Over his leather armour, William wears straps of leather, to easily mount certain tools and other equipment there for easy access. He wears one of his daggers there, and his other one on his right waist.
Hair: Dark. Almost black.
Eye colour: Grey.
Height: 6ft
Mental description: Usually normal, but tend to be annoyed over some rather trivial matters, like the stupidity of other people. Modest, and has the mindset of an above average intelligent man. Likes to keep his thoughts and motives for himself. He has (unfortunately) been reading up on the wrong kind of literature for some time, and his actions and thoughts are often governed by his beliefs.
http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs22/f/2007/316/3/d/Ranger_by_E_l_g_e_n.jpg
:nod:
Weapon: Steel longsword and wooden bow. Also carries a few daggers.
Clothing/armour worn most often: Leather armour, green cloak, leather boots and otherwise black clothes.
Clothing/armour worn less often: His spare brown set of clothes.
Inventory: Quiver with 20 arrows, dagger, waterskin, some septims, meat. All of this placed in a backpack.
Quick Bio: William grew up in the western borders of Cyrodiil, and has never seen the home country of his parents. He grew up in the woods, and was always preparing to join the imperial rangers. He did this after getting 21 years old and has now served there for four years. He is not very successful, and the most serious crime he's ever stopped was when someone was stealing sheep from a farmer. Is a bit bitter due to this. William had been hunting 'round some old sewer entrance (how convenient...) for some time now, waiting for the infamous were-crocodile that had been terrorizing the goblins in the imperial sewers.
Full name: William Stone
Name for other RPers to call your character: Bill, Will, whatevah.
Race: Breton
Gender: Male
Age: 25
Focus: Stealth
Skills: Marksman, Blade, Wilderness survival.
General appearance: Dark, half long hair is just barely reaching in front of William's eyes, not hindering his sight. He has a body unlike most bretons, as he is rather fit, but no really strong man. His line of work demands a bit of strength and agility. He wears his leather armour as if he never done otherwise and has quick eyes, often scanning the terrain and people around him. His longsword looks as thought it is meant to be by his side, and his bow shows the time and energy this man has spent making it. He is truly bound to his weapons, and they have never failed him when he needed them. Over his leather armour, William wears straps of leather, to easily mount certain tools and other equipment there for easy access. He wears one of his daggers there, and his other one on his right waist.
Hair: Dark. Almost black.
Eye colour: Grey.
Height: 6ft
Mental description: Usually normal, but tend to be annoyed over some rather trivial matters, like the stupidity of other people. Modest, and has the mindset of an above average intelligent man. Likes to keep his thoughts and motives for himself. He has (unfortunately) been reading up on the wrong kind of literature for some time, and his actions and thoughts are often governed by his beliefs.
http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs22/f/2007/316/3/d/Ranger_by_E_l_g_e_n.jpg
:nod:
Weapon: Steel longsword and wooden bow. Also carries a few daggers.
Clothing/armour worn most often: Leather armour, green cloak, leather boots and otherwise black clothes.
Clothing/armour worn less often: His spare brown set of clothes.
Inventory: Quiver with 20 arrows, dagger, waterskin, some septims, meat. All of this placed in a backpack.
Quick Bio: William grew up in the western borders of Cyrodiil, and has never seen the home country of his parents. He grew up in the woods, and was always preparing to join the imperial rangers. He did this after getting 21 years old and has now served there for four years. He is not very successful, and the most serious crime he's ever stopped was when someone was stealing sheep from a farmer. Is a bit bitter due to this. William had been hunting 'round some old sewer entrance (how convenient...) for some time now, waiting for the infamous were-crocodile that had been terrorizing the goblins in the imperial sewers.
Illusionary Nothings' Character
Spoiler
Name: Dark-Feather
Race: Argonian
Birthsign: The Apprentice
Gender: Female
Age: Age is difficult to judge with Argonians, but she is 26 in truth.
Class: Dark-Feather owns a very successful Alchemy shop and is also known to train in specific magical arts. Alchemist and Mage.
Skills: Alchemy and Alteration are Dark-Feather's strongest talents. She strongly believes that alchemy is the very core of all magic and has built the rest of her talents from that. She has always found Alteration fascinating, requiring a much more flexible mind than any of the other 'brute' magics, as she thinks of them, and has achieved the title Master in this school. This is the main magic she trains others in. She's good at hiding and walking softly, something her background demanded, and she has a very good grasp of trade. She has a passing knowledge of Illusion- just light and blinding spells useful for escape, and not very skilful ones at that. Mysticism she has a knack for, but she treads lightly; while she finds detect, telekinesis and teleportation spells of enormous use, she will not use soul trapping or enchanting in any circumstances.
(Alchemy, Alteration, Sneak, Mysticism, Mercantile, and a handful of weak illusion spells)
Appearance: A sleek and slender Argonian, resembling more closely a reptile than amphibian. She prefers to walk on her toes, and does not wear boots, though she can force herself flat if the need calls for it. Her scales are sandy in colour, with darker brindling on her hands, legs and following her spine, which it has been remarked looks a little like dried blood. Her muzzle is wedge-shaped and elegant; her eyes are large and almost entirely black. Curved rams horns guard small ears on either side of her head, and crow-feathers dangle from them on thin leather straps.
She will usually dress in a Morrowind-style long skirt and loose shirt, which though altered so as not to offend imperial tastes, still reflect the tastes of her homeland. A more expensive travel cloak will usually cover the top; deep green, soft and embroidered with the symbols of all the schools of magic. She carries a long silver staff with the head of a dragon, but would not wield it with any skill in a fight.
Pack: If one were to unlatch her pack, it would fall open to reveal rows of carefully wrapped vials, some empty, some carrying small but potent doses of healing and magicka, a few explosives, a single vial of poison, and one potion of invisibility which she regards as a luck-piece, having never yet been required to use it. Behind them are various herbs and alchemical ingredients she has collected on her travels, wrapped in cloth. Beneath the vials sits her beautifully crafted mortar-and-pestle, the only piece of alchemical equipment she takes with her when leaving her shop. In a very small zip at the back, there is also a key to her shop, which does not work, and a flat little locket containing a picture of herself holding an armful of swaddling cloth, with bright yellow eyes and furry ears just visible through it. In a false bottom, there is a pouch of coins and a bundle of lockpicks.
Personality: Dark-Feather is quiet and reserved, difficult to know and understand, appearing the very heart of the Argonian stereotype. This is not strictly so; there is a will of steel in her, and burning passion and the consuming rage and bitterness of a long sufferer. And friendliness and humour, if any should persevere with her long enough to find it.
All of this considered, she still does her best to be polite.
Background: Dark-Feather keeps her history close and is loathe to share it. She looks rather to her future instead. To be brief; she was enslaved, escaped, hunted and hated, and she has fought for every small success she has gained.
Now she owns a successful Alchemist's in Bravil called, inspiringly, Dark-Feather's Potions, and sees much business from across Cyrodiil. She is a member of the Mages' Guild, but has little loyalty to them. If she follows any religion, it is not obviously expressed. She hopes to one day travel to the Summerset Isles to try her trade there, and she fusses over her apprentice, a young Khajiit. These are all things she is concerned with, and are available to all to know. But do not ask her about her past.
Name: Dark-Feather
Race: Argonian
Birthsign: The Apprentice
Gender: Female
Age: Age is difficult to judge with Argonians, but she is 26 in truth.
Class: Dark-Feather owns a very successful Alchemy shop and is also known to train in specific magical arts. Alchemist and Mage.
Skills: Alchemy and Alteration are Dark-Feather's strongest talents. She strongly believes that alchemy is the very core of all magic and has built the rest of her talents from that. She has always found Alteration fascinating, requiring a much more flexible mind than any of the other 'brute' magics, as she thinks of them, and has achieved the title Master in this school. This is the main magic she trains others in. She's good at hiding and walking softly, something her background demanded, and she has a very good grasp of trade. She has a passing knowledge of Illusion- just light and blinding spells useful for escape, and not very skilful ones at that. Mysticism she has a knack for, but she treads lightly; while she finds detect, telekinesis and teleportation spells of enormous use, she will not use soul trapping or enchanting in any circumstances.
(Alchemy, Alteration, Sneak, Mysticism, Mercantile, and a handful of weak illusion spells)
Appearance: A sleek and slender Argonian, resembling more closely a reptile than amphibian. She prefers to walk on her toes, and does not wear boots, though she can force herself flat if the need calls for it. Her scales are sandy in colour, with darker brindling on her hands, legs and following her spine, which it has been remarked looks a little like dried blood. Her muzzle is wedge-shaped and elegant; her eyes are large and almost entirely black. Curved rams horns guard small ears on either side of her head, and crow-feathers dangle from them on thin leather straps.
She will usually dress in a Morrowind-style long skirt and loose shirt, which though altered so as not to offend imperial tastes, still reflect the tastes of her homeland. A more expensive travel cloak will usually cover the top; deep green, soft and embroidered with the symbols of all the schools of magic. She carries a long silver staff with the head of a dragon, but would not wield it with any skill in a fight.
Pack: If one were to unlatch her pack, it would fall open to reveal rows of carefully wrapped vials, some empty, some carrying small but potent doses of healing and magicka, a few explosives, a single vial of poison, and one potion of invisibility which she regards as a luck-piece, having never yet been required to use it. Behind them are various herbs and alchemical ingredients she has collected on her travels, wrapped in cloth. Beneath the vials sits her beautifully crafted mortar-and-pestle, the only piece of alchemical equipment she takes with her when leaving her shop. In a very small zip at the back, there is also a key to her shop, which does not work, and a flat little locket containing a picture of herself holding an armful of swaddling cloth, with bright yellow eyes and furry ears just visible through it. In a false bottom, there is a pouch of coins and a bundle of lockpicks.
Personality: Dark-Feather is quiet and reserved, difficult to know and understand, appearing the very heart of the Argonian stereotype. This is not strictly so; there is a will of steel in her, and burning passion and the consuming rage and bitterness of a long sufferer. And friendliness and humour, if any should persevere with her long enough to find it.
All of this considered, she still does her best to be polite.
Background: Dark-Feather keeps her history close and is loathe to share it. She looks rather to her future instead. To be brief; she was enslaved, escaped, hunted and hated, and she has fought for every small success she has gained.
Now she owns a successful Alchemist's in Bravil called, inspiringly, Dark-Feather's Potions, and sees much business from across Cyrodiil. She is a member of the Mages' Guild, but has little loyalty to them. If she follows any religion, it is not obviously expressed. She hopes to one day travel to the Summerset Isles to try her trade there, and she fusses over her apprentice, a young Khajiit. These are all things she is concerned with, and are available to all to know. But do not ask her about her past.
Gavrils' character
Spoiler
Name: Levius Apinia
Gender: male
Race: Imperial
Age: 25
Height: around 5ft11
Eye Color: Grayish green
Hair Style: long, dark brown hair. It reaches to his shoulders.
Skin Color: slightly tanned from training every day in the sun.
Tattoos/Scars: the whole left side of his upper body was burned during the attack of Kvatch. It left him with a very large place where his skin is a strange white, brown color and has the appearance of old parchment.
General Appearance: he stands at 5ft11 and has a lean build. His hair has a dark brown color and his eyes are a grayish green. He has a large burn-scar over the left side of his upper body. If he would wash away all the dirt from his face, people could consider him somewhat good looking.
Major Skills: Blade, Conjuration, Illusion, Sneak, Acrobatics, Athletics.
Apparel: he currently wears black and burgundy pants which are fortified with leather armor on his upper legs. The pants are tucked away in black, light leather boots. He wears a black shirt, which is also fortified with leather armor on his shoulders, vital body parts and arms. On his right shoulder is the coat of arms of his family, a large burning tree.
Weapons: two Imperial shortswords which he collected from two dead guards during the attack on Kvatch.
Backpack: he currently has no backpack.
Brief History: he was born in a wealthy family in Kvatch, who was part of the counts court. His parents send him at a young age to the mages guild to study the arts of magic and to the fighters’ guild to learn how to use a sword well. But none of these interested him a lot. His parents wanted him to do it and they checked up on his progress all the time so he had no choice. This made him a pretty good sword fighter and skilled in the magic school he preferred conjuration and Illusion. But what he really preferred and enjoyed doing was running over the roofs with some of his friends. It started like that but then he started breaking in and stealing. He did it for the kick, because he had no real need for the money.
When Kvatch was attacked by mehrunes dagon he was happily asleep in the mages guild after a small party with some of his friends. He was attacked by two scamps and a fire atronach. He killed the scamps but the atronach burned his left side of his body before being chased away by an ice spell of one of the mages guild members. A healer healed the wounds but could do nothing about the awfull scar that came in its place. It covered the whole left side of his upper body all the way to his hand. Luckily he feels no pain from it. He actually can’t feel anything from that side.
He then put on his armor/ clothing and helped the mages make a path to the great gate and helped them in any way he could to get the people out of the place. With a shortswords he found on some dead guards he led some of the locals outside, mostly picking them up when they stumble, while stabbing at any scamps coming their way and ignoring any tougher monsters. The panic made him completely forget about his magical skills he could use to defend himself.
Gender: male
Race: Imperial
Age: 25
Height: around 5ft11
Eye Color: Grayish green
Hair Style: long, dark brown hair. It reaches to his shoulders.
Skin Color: slightly tanned from training every day in the sun.
Tattoos/Scars: the whole left side of his upper body was burned during the attack of Kvatch. It left him with a very large place where his skin is a strange white, brown color and has the appearance of old parchment.
General Appearance: he stands at 5ft11 and has a lean build. His hair has a dark brown color and his eyes are a grayish green. He has a large burn-scar over the left side of his upper body. If he would wash away all the dirt from his face, people could consider him somewhat good looking.
Major Skills: Blade, Conjuration, Illusion, Sneak, Acrobatics, Athletics.
Apparel: he currently wears black and burgundy pants which are fortified with leather armor on his upper legs. The pants are tucked away in black, light leather boots. He wears a black shirt, which is also fortified with leather armor on his shoulders, vital body parts and arms. On his right shoulder is the coat of arms of his family, a large burning tree.
Weapons: two Imperial shortswords which he collected from two dead guards during the attack on Kvatch.
Backpack: he currently has no backpack.
Brief History: he was born in a wealthy family in Kvatch, who was part of the counts court. His parents send him at a young age to the mages guild to study the arts of magic and to the fighters’ guild to learn how to use a sword well. But none of these interested him a lot. His parents wanted him to do it and they checked up on his progress all the time so he had no choice. This made him a pretty good sword fighter and skilled in the magic school he preferred conjuration and Illusion. But what he really preferred and enjoyed doing was running over the roofs with some of his friends. It started like that but then he started breaking in and stealing. He did it for the kick, because he had no real need for the money.
When Kvatch was attacked by mehrunes dagon he was happily asleep in the mages guild after a small party with some of his friends. He was attacked by two scamps and a fire atronach. He killed the scamps but the atronach burned his left side of his body before being chased away by an ice spell of one of the mages guild members. A healer healed the wounds but could do nothing about the awfull scar that came in its place. It covered the whole left side of his upper body all the way to his hand. Luckily he feels no pain from it. He actually can’t feel anything from that side.
He then put on his armor/ clothing and helped the mages make a path to the great gate and helped them in any way he could to get the people out of the place. With a shortswords he found on some dead guards he led some of the locals outside, mostly picking them up when they stumble, while stabbing at any scamps coming their way and ignoring any tougher monsters. The panic made him completely forget about his magical skills he could use to defend himself.
Aulakauss' Characters
Spoiler
Name: Zan'Tarre Kanaa Zeterra
Gender: Male
Race: Dunmer/Skyrim Khajiit [Heavy on the Khajiit]
Age: 35
Birthsign: The Lady
Birthdate: 2nd, Hearthfire, 3E 398
Class: Mercenary Warrior
Class Description: Mercenaries come in many flavors, though all have one thing in common; they work for pay, seeking employment wherever they can.
Major Skills: Long Blade, Destruction, Armorer, Speechcraft, Block
Minor Skills: Athletics, Heavy Armor, Acrobatics, Marksman [throwing knives], Mercantile
Eyes: Crystalline Blue
Hair: Snow-white, comes to about 3" below shoulder blades.
Skin Color: Snow white with quarter inch long white fur. Fur has black striping on his sides and the outsides of his arms/legs.
Height: 5' 11"
Build: Slim, but muscular. Looks very physically fit.
General Description: Standing at five-foot-eleven, Zan'Tarre is not extraordinarily tall, nor is he short. His ears are black with black fur in contrast to the rest of him, making the gold rings on his ears stand out. He wears nondescript clothing made of a burgundy bedsheet he took from an abandoned house. He wears gauntlets and boots he made out of wolf fur in and out of combat. The strap he uses to attach his blade to his back also has slots for two throwing daggers and a pouch near his side which he carries various things in. Other notable things are his almost human face with a very short snout and a wet, black nose and his deep, Dunmeri/Khajiiti mix voice.
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Four gold-plated metal rings adorn the outside part of his left ear. He has many small and a few large scars, most of which have stories he'll gladly tell if asked about them.
Primary Clothing: Burgundy-colored sleeveless shirt and pants of his own design, wolf fur boots and gauntlets.
Armor: When traveling or entering a fight, he wears a Elven plate greaves, wolf fur gauntlets and boots and a steel chestplate. Has no pauldrons.
Inventory:
[Pouch on chest strap]: Purse with 483 gold, 4 lockpicks, bone armlet that Karst made for him when she was two.
[Small Shoulder Pack]: Calipers, Tongs, 2 Armorer's hammers, 7 bottles of poisons, 5 healing potions.
[Pockets]: Nothing.
Weapons: Elven longsword sheathed on back.
Magic: Strong Fireball spell, medium-strength Shock spell [touch], simple Paralysis spell [just enough to cause a foe to stumble and fall], Summon Skeleton spell, short-duration water-walking spell.
History: Zan'Tarre left his clan when he turned fifteen, an advlt by clan standards, bidding his parents and three-year-old sister farewell, and headed north through Elsweyr to Cyrodiil, reaching the province at the age of seventeen, where he has lived as a rogue wanderer for most of his life. For the past three, he has taken to being a mercenary, and though he is picky about what jobs he'll take, has made a good living off of it. He sleeps in the day and moves at night most of the time, often sitting atop people's rooftops gazing at the stars.
Since coming to Kvatch, he has found love in a young Khajiit named Khaseena and reunited with his sister, Karstine and the three hang out often. From time to time Karst even accompanies him on contracts.
Personality: Zan'Tarre is in many ways the polar opposite of his sister. He is neat and organized, always having some idea of what he is doing, dressing for practicality rather than looks and usually blending in. He is good natured and has a slightly twisted sense of humor, something both of them get from their mother, but often takes things too literally or seriously. Zant is also a very kindred person, preferring to talk things over rather than fight. He is always trying to help others when he can and tries to make up for all the lives he's taken in his line of work this way.
Other Traits/Oddities:
- Is left-handed.
- Cannot shoot a bow straight to save his life.
- Is, however, very accurate throwing standard daggers.
- Can read, but can't write well. His handwriting is chicken scratch.
Misc Skills [non-combat]:
- Can sew and make clothing out of just about anything.
- Can make poisons with alchemy, but nothing more.
- Is a proficient armorer.
Gender: Male
Race: Dunmer/Skyrim Khajiit [Heavy on the Khajiit]
Age: 35
Birthsign: The Lady
Birthdate: 2nd, Hearthfire, 3E 398
Class: Mercenary Warrior
Class Description: Mercenaries come in many flavors, though all have one thing in common; they work for pay, seeking employment wherever they can.
Major Skills: Long Blade, Destruction, Armorer, Speechcraft, Block
Minor Skills: Athletics, Heavy Armor, Acrobatics, Marksman [throwing knives], Mercantile
Eyes: Crystalline Blue
Hair: Snow-white, comes to about 3" below shoulder blades.
Skin Color: Snow white with quarter inch long white fur. Fur has black striping on his sides and the outsides of his arms/legs.
Height: 5' 11"
Build: Slim, but muscular. Looks very physically fit.
General Description: Standing at five-foot-eleven, Zan'Tarre is not extraordinarily tall, nor is he short. His ears are black with black fur in contrast to the rest of him, making the gold rings on his ears stand out. He wears nondescript clothing made of a burgundy bedsheet he took from an abandoned house. He wears gauntlets and boots he made out of wolf fur in and out of combat. The strap he uses to attach his blade to his back also has slots for two throwing daggers and a pouch near his side which he carries various things in. Other notable things are his almost human face with a very short snout and a wet, black nose and his deep, Dunmeri/Khajiiti mix voice.
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Four gold-plated metal rings adorn the outside part of his left ear. He has many small and a few large scars, most of which have stories he'll gladly tell if asked about them.
Primary Clothing: Burgundy-colored sleeveless shirt and pants of his own design, wolf fur boots and gauntlets.
Armor: When traveling or entering a fight, he wears a Elven plate greaves, wolf fur gauntlets and boots and a steel chestplate. Has no pauldrons.
Inventory:
[Pouch on chest strap]: Purse with 483 gold, 4 lockpicks, bone armlet that Karst made for him when she was two.
[Small Shoulder Pack]: Calipers, Tongs, 2 Armorer's hammers, 7 bottles of poisons, 5 healing potions.
[Pockets]: Nothing.
Weapons: Elven longsword sheathed on back.
Magic: Strong Fireball spell, medium-strength Shock spell [touch], simple Paralysis spell [just enough to cause a foe to stumble and fall], Summon Skeleton spell, short-duration water-walking spell.
History: Zan'Tarre left his clan when he turned fifteen, an advlt by clan standards, bidding his parents and three-year-old sister farewell, and headed north through Elsweyr to Cyrodiil, reaching the province at the age of seventeen, where he has lived as a rogue wanderer for most of his life. For the past three, he has taken to being a mercenary, and though he is picky about what jobs he'll take, has made a good living off of it. He sleeps in the day and moves at night most of the time, often sitting atop people's rooftops gazing at the stars.
Since coming to Kvatch, he has found love in a young Khajiit named Khaseena and reunited with his sister, Karstine and the three hang out often. From time to time Karst even accompanies him on contracts.
Personality: Zan'Tarre is in many ways the polar opposite of his sister. He is neat and organized, always having some idea of what he is doing, dressing for practicality rather than looks and usually blending in. He is good natured and has a slightly twisted sense of humor, something both of them get from their mother, but often takes things too literally or seriously. Zant is also a very kindred person, preferring to talk things over rather than fight. He is always trying to help others when he can and tries to make up for all the lives he's taken in his line of work this way.
Other Traits/Oddities:
- Is left-handed.
- Cannot shoot a bow straight to save his life.
- Is, however, very accurate throwing standard daggers.
- Can read, but can't write well. His handwriting is chicken scratch.
Misc Skills [non-combat]:
- Can sew and make clothing out of just about anything.
- Can make poisons with alchemy, but nothing more.
- Is a proficient armorer.
Spoiler
Name: Karstine Maranay Zeterra
Gender: Female
Race: Dunmer/Skyrim Khajiit [Heavy on the Khajiit]
Age: 23
Birthsign: The Thief
Birthdate: 17th of Evening Star, 3E 409
Class: Vagabond
Class Description: Vagabonds are the homeless, wandering and lost. They fight with many styles and wear many faces, but are all drifters with noplace they can truly call home. When they settle down, on rare occasions, they are still full of curiosity and wanderlust and leave often on trips.
Major Skills: Sneak, Light Armor, Security, Marksman, Short Blade
Minor Skills: Destruction, Acrobatics, Restoration, Unarmored, Athletics
Eyes: Emerald Green
Hair: Blood colored, comes to just below shoulders.
Skin Color: Snow white with quarter inch long white fur. Fur has black striping on her sides and the outsides of her arms and legs. Also, the tip of her tail is black.
Height: 5' 6"
Build: Slender, with stringy muscles.
General Description: Karstine is, in a sentence, a small but pretty young Khajiiti woman. She has stark white skin and similarly colored fur with black striping on her sides, arms and legs, alongside a pair of sparkling emerald colored eyes, all attributes from her mother. From her father's elven lineage, Karst has blood colored hair and a soft elven face, as apposed to the usual feline snout that her mother bore.
In body, she is somewhat curvy, though what beauty she has is a warrior's beauty rather than a maiden's; her arms, legs and stomach have stringy-yet-strong muscles under them and there's not an ounce of fat on her body. Her hands are scarred but otherwise delicate looking, her fingers oddly long for the size of the rest of her, and her toes, while human in appearance, bear little claws on the ends of them.
Karst's soft face often bears a look of determination, making her otherwise cute features look somewhat sinister. Like her hair, her eyebrows are a deep crimson, a drastic contrast to the snowy fur, and her eyes themselves are slightly slanted inwards, almond shaped with long eyelashes and highly expressive. Like most Khajiit, her ears and tail are easily noticeable indicators of her mood at most times and her movements are graceful and smooth. Unlike most Khajiit, though, her voice is that of an elven woman, with only traces of her Khajiiti blood audible when she speaks.
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Many small whip scars along her back from mistreatment in the Imperial prisons, a scar from a stab wound just under her collar bone, a gold, jeweled ring (the type you wear on your finger) in the base of her left ear (which is hidden under her hair normally), and a small tattoo of her name in Daedric between her shoulder blades.
Clothes: Corset style red and black shirt, loose black pants and a black canvas trench coat.
Armor: Black Adamantium boots, a chainmail vest with a light leather cuirass over it, leather greaves and thin leather fingerless gloves with steel bracers over the backs of them.
Pack [main pocket]: Two loaves of bread, a copy of 'On Oblivion' and a copy of 'Varieties of Daedra'.
Pack [secondary pocket]: 2 Standard Restore Health potions, and 2 bottles of Flin, a map of Kvatch and a souvenir coin from the Imperial City Arena.
Pouch [right hip]: Purse with 200 septims, canvas pouch of tobacco, tin of rolling paper.
Pockets: Metal case of 18 homemade cigarettes, 6 septims.
Other: Emerald necklace given to her by her mother which protects from disease around neck, silver dagger tucked in between self and pants on left hip.
Weapons: Steel Longbow, two steel shortswords, claws.
Magic: Mara's Kiss [restore health, can be used on others as well as self], Flash Bolt [mid-level shock spell, cast on target], Wind's Companion [invisibility 65 secs on self. This uses up enough of her magicka she cannot cast anything else for at least a couple minutes], Dead Bolt [lock 30pts/add easy lock on target], Trespass [open level 50/average lock on touch]
History: Karst was born in Elsweyr, a product of an unlikely love between a Khajiiti wise woman and a Dunmeri man who was taken into the tribe after being rescued from the desert. Until the age of three, she was cared for and nurtured both by her mother and father, but also by her elder brother. When her brother left after his fifteenth birthday, she clung to her mother and father most of the time as the other kittens in the tribe picked on her for being a half-breed.
Another two and a half years passed in relative peace, Karst burying her little nose in the various documents that the tribe kept to pass most of her time. Sadly, as later turned out to often be the case for her, the simple happiness didn't last. Her mother fell ill with an odd curse and, over the next seven months, died a very slow and painful death. Her father held on another year despite his grief, trying to raise his daughter, but he could only go on so long. Karst's father died in his sleep one night and left her horribly alone in the world.
She lived an uneasy and bothered life in the tribe until she turned eleven. An incident with an older boy left her guilty of slaying one of her fellows and, despite the killing being in self-defense, it was a perfect excuse for the elders to do what they'd been itching to do for years: get rid of her. Karst was thrown out with only a week's supplies, exiled for merely defending herself.
Her life didn't go much better from then on, either. After a few failed relationships as a wanderer, Karst was taken in by, and subsequently found love in a Dunmeri nobleman in a small town in northern Elsweyr. Again, though she spent many a happy day and night with the man over the following year, it didn't last. Angered by such a respected and powerful member of their community not only romancing a Khajiit, but one of no noble blood or deed, the villagers rose up and stormed the manor at night. The next morning, Karst was forced to endure the sight of her love being publicly executed and, for fear of being killed herself, fled.
Heading north over the next few years, she viciously slaughtered bandits and highwaymen to vent her pain until coming to the town of Skingrad. She lived there for a month or so before a nobleman who she'd frequently stolen food from decided it'd be better to pay off the guards to harass her than to have her arrested. After a month, she snapped. One night, Karst picked the lock to the manor as she'd done before, but instead of stealing from him, she marched up to the bedroom and robbed him at dagger point.
Or at least she tried to.
The man spun around and disarmed her with a twist of her wrist, grabbed her dagger as it fell and rammed it into her collar. Though she remembers nothing after that point, the guards have told her they found her passed out in the manor, the only one alive. Even the servants were dead. Since then, she has been imprisoned in the Imperial City Prisons, where her sharp tongue, stubbornness and violent outbursts have made her a good deal of enemies, many of whom have done unspeakable things to her in return. Over the past seven years, Karst fought in the Arena to vent her anger at her captors and keep up her combat practice. Though she was forced to give up most of her winnings to the Legion, the only reason they agreed to allow her this small luxury in the first place, it offered her a chance to escape and breathe fresh air for a while, so she gladly welcomed it.
For reasons unknown, a mere couple months before the assassination of Uriel Septim VII, she was released, supposedly on the Emperor's orders, to go to Morrowind. From what she knew of it, Morrowind was a place she didn't exactly want to go, so when bandits attacked the Legion-guarded carriage that was transporting her, she fled to Kvatch where she worked in a tavern for a living. While there, she met her brother and his fiance and, happily reunited, started to get her life back together.
Personality: Under normal circumstances, Karst is playful, energetic, carefree and witty. She boasts a strong will, a twisted and somewhat dark sense of humor and rather striking lack of physical shame. Karst is naturally tolerant of pain, able to endure amounts of it that would make most folk black out, a skilled marksman and swordswoman, excellent sneak and an extremely compassionate person to those who she thinks deserve it.
On the other side of the coin, Karst has problems with her temper and often speaks her mind when it'd be far better to be quiet. Displays of blatant arrogance and (what she views as) misuse of authority often garner fiery and violent reactions from the small woman. Though highly intelligent and quick-witted, she often does irrational and even incredibly stupid things in anger. She has a serious lack of confidence in herself in almost every way, is a frequent alcoholic and has a habit of judging people severely by first impression.
However, her biggest weakness by far is her emotions. At the best of times, she is subject to mood swings and broods sometimes for days after being angered. At the worst of times, she is manic-depressive and sometimes even suicidal. Despite all her weaknesses, though, Karst is a kindred woman and, if one earns her trust, a fiercely loyal friend.
Other Traits/Oddities:
- Despises arrogance.
- Enjoys pulling pranks.
- Drinks when depressed.
- Copes with certain kinds of trauma by masking it with humor. This sometimes leads to jokes at very inappropriate times.
- Karst's manner of movement is eccentric; the way she walks seems exaggerated and she occasionally makes odd hand gestures when talking.
- Her fingers are slightly longer than most humanoid creatures her age by about half an inch.
Misc Skills [Non-Combat]:
- Is a good cook, but never admits to it when complemented.
- Can be persuasive if need be, though she never claims to be smooth about it.
- Is good at creating medicines from raw ingredients, a skill she leaned from her mother when she was young.
- Has psychic potential that she cannot harness. Though she knows and accepts that she has it, the only use she currently has for it is the sort of sixth sense that it grants her, allowing her to sense and feel the emotions of those near her. This can often be as much a curse as it is a blessing, however.
Name: Karstine Maranay Zeterra
Gender: Female
Race: Dunmer/Skyrim Khajiit [Heavy on the Khajiit]
Age: 23
Birthsign: The Thief
Birthdate: 17th of Evening Star, 3E 409
Class: Vagabond
Class Description: Vagabonds are the homeless, wandering and lost. They fight with many styles and wear many faces, but are all drifters with noplace they can truly call home. When they settle down, on rare occasions, they are still full of curiosity and wanderlust and leave often on trips.
Major Skills: Sneak, Light Armor, Security, Marksman, Short Blade
Minor Skills: Destruction, Acrobatics, Restoration, Unarmored, Athletics
Eyes: Emerald Green
Hair: Blood colored, comes to just below shoulders.
Skin Color: Snow white with quarter inch long white fur. Fur has black striping on her sides and the outsides of her arms and legs. Also, the tip of her tail is black.
Height: 5' 6"
Build: Slender, with stringy muscles.
General Description: Karstine is, in a sentence, a small but pretty young Khajiiti woman. She has stark white skin and similarly colored fur with black striping on her sides, arms and legs, alongside a pair of sparkling emerald colored eyes, all attributes from her mother. From her father's elven lineage, Karst has blood colored hair and a soft elven face, as apposed to the usual feline snout that her mother bore.
In body, she is somewhat curvy, though what beauty she has is a warrior's beauty rather than a maiden's; her arms, legs and stomach have stringy-yet-strong muscles under them and there's not an ounce of fat on her body. Her hands are scarred but otherwise delicate looking, her fingers oddly long for the size of the rest of her, and her toes, while human in appearance, bear little claws on the ends of them.
Karst's soft face often bears a look of determination, making her otherwise cute features look somewhat sinister. Like her hair, her eyebrows are a deep crimson, a drastic contrast to the snowy fur, and her eyes themselves are slightly slanted inwards, almond shaped with long eyelashes and highly expressive. Like most Khajiit, her ears and tail are easily noticeable indicators of her mood at most times and her movements are graceful and smooth. Unlike most Khajiit, though, her voice is that of an elven woman, with only traces of her Khajiiti blood audible when she speaks.
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Many small whip scars along her back from mistreatment in the Imperial prisons, a scar from a stab wound just under her collar bone, a gold, jeweled ring (the type you wear on your finger) in the base of her left ear (which is hidden under her hair normally), and a small tattoo of her name in Daedric between her shoulder blades.
Clothes: Corset style red and black shirt, loose black pants and a black canvas trench coat.
Armor: Black Adamantium boots, a chainmail vest with a light leather cuirass over it, leather greaves and thin leather fingerless gloves with steel bracers over the backs of them.
Pack [main pocket]: Two loaves of bread, a copy of 'On Oblivion' and a copy of 'Varieties of Daedra'.
Pack [secondary pocket]: 2 Standard Restore Health potions, and 2 bottles of Flin, a map of Kvatch and a souvenir coin from the Imperial City Arena.
Pouch [right hip]: Purse with 200 septims, canvas pouch of tobacco, tin of rolling paper.
Pockets: Metal case of 18 homemade cigarettes, 6 septims.
Other: Emerald necklace given to her by her mother which protects from disease around neck, silver dagger tucked in between self and pants on left hip.
Weapons: Steel Longbow, two steel shortswords, claws.
Magic: Mara's Kiss [restore health, can be used on others as well as self], Flash Bolt [mid-level shock spell, cast on target], Wind's Companion [invisibility 65 secs on self. This uses up enough of her magicka she cannot cast anything else for at least a couple minutes], Dead Bolt [lock 30pts/add easy lock on target], Trespass [open level 50/average lock on touch]
History: Karst was born in Elsweyr, a product of an unlikely love between a Khajiiti wise woman and a Dunmeri man who was taken into the tribe after being rescued from the desert. Until the age of three, she was cared for and nurtured both by her mother and father, but also by her elder brother. When her brother left after his fifteenth birthday, she clung to her mother and father most of the time as the other kittens in the tribe picked on her for being a half-breed.
Another two and a half years passed in relative peace, Karst burying her little nose in the various documents that the tribe kept to pass most of her time. Sadly, as later turned out to often be the case for her, the simple happiness didn't last. Her mother fell ill with an odd curse and, over the next seven months, died a very slow and painful death. Her father held on another year despite his grief, trying to raise his daughter, but he could only go on so long. Karst's father died in his sleep one night and left her horribly alone in the world.
She lived an uneasy and bothered life in the tribe until she turned eleven. An incident with an older boy left her guilty of slaying one of her fellows and, despite the killing being in self-defense, it was a perfect excuse for the elders to do what they'd been itching to do for years: get rid of her. Karst was thrown out with only a week's supplies, exiled for merely defending herself.
Her life didn't go much better from then on, either. After a few failed relationships as a wanderer, Karst was taken in by, and subsequently found love in a Dunmeri nobleman in a small town in northern Elsweyr. Again, though she spent many a happy day and night with the man over the following year, it didn't last. Angered by such a respected and powerful member of their community not only romancing a Khajiit, but one of no noble blood or deed, the villagers rose up and stormed the manor at night. The next morning, Karst was forced to endure the sight of her love being publicly executed and, for fear of being killed herself, fled.
Heading north over the next few years, she viciously slaughtered bandits and highwaymen to vent her pain until coming to the town of Skingrad. She lived there for a month or so before a nobleman who she'd frequently stolen food from decided it'd be better to pay off the guards to harass her than to have her arrested. After a month, she snapped. One night, Karst picked the lock to the manor as she'd done before, but instead of stealing from him, she marched up to the bedroom and robbed him at dagger point.
Or at least she tried to.
The man spun around and disarmed her with a twist of her wrist, grabbed her dagger as it fell and rammed it into her collar. Though she remembers nothing after that point, the guards have told her they found her passed out in the manor, the only one alive. Even the servants were dead. Since then, she has been imprisoned in the Imperial City Prisons, where her sharp tongue, stubbornness and violent outbursts have made her a good deal of enemies, many of whom have done unspeakable things to her in return. Over the past seven years, Karst fought in the Arena to vent her anger at her captors and keep up her combat practice. Though she was forced to give up most of her winnings to the Legion, the only reason they agreed to allow her this small luxury in the first place, it offered her a chance to escape and breathe fresh air for a while, so she gladly welcomed it.
For reasons unknown, a mere couple months before the assassination of Uriel Septim VII, she was released, supposedly on the Emperor's orders, to go to Morrowind. From what she knew of it, Morrowind was a place she didn't exactly want to go, so when bandits attacked the Legion-guarded carriage that was transporting her, she fled to Kvatch where she worked in a tavern for a living. While there, she met her brother and his fiance and, happily reunited, started to get her life back together.
Personality: Under normal circumstances, Karst is playful, energetic, carefree and witty. She boasts a strong will, a twisted and somewhat dark sense of humor and rather striking lack of physical shame. Karst is naturally tolerant of pain, able to endure amounts of it that would make most folk black out, a skilled marksman and swordswoman, excellent sneak and an extremely compassionate person to those who she thinks deserve it.
On the other side of the coin, Karst has problems with her temper and often speaks her mind when it'd be far better to be quiet. Displays of blatant arrogance and (what she views as) misuse of authority often garner fiery and violent reactions from the small woman. Though highly intelligent and quick-witted, she often does irrational and even incredibly stupid things in anger. She has a serious lack of confidence in herself in almost every way, is a frequent alcoholic and has a habit of judging people severely by first impression.
However, her biggest weakness by far is her emotions. At the best of times, she is subject to mood swings and broods sometimes for days after being angered. At the worst of times, she is manic-depressive and sometimes even suicidal. Despite all her weaknesses, though, Karst is a kindred woman and, if one earns her trust, a fiercely loyal friend.
Other Traits/Oddities:
- Despises arrogance.
- Enjoys pulling pranks.
- Drinks when depressed.
- Copes with certain kinds of trauma by masking it with humor. This sometimes leads to jokes at very inappropriate times.
- Karst's manner of movement is eccentric; the way she walks seems exaggerated and she occasionally makes odd hand gestures when talking.
- Her fingers are slightly longer than most humanoid creatures her age by about half an inch.
Misc Skills [Non-Combat]:
- Is a good cook, but never admits to it when complemented.
- Can be persuasive if need be, though she never claims to be smooth about it.
- Is good at creating medicines from raw ingredients, a skill she leaned from her mother when she was young.
- Has psychic potential that she cannot harness. Though she knows and accepts that she has it, the only use she currently has for it is the sort of sixth sense that it grants her, allowing her to sense and feel the emotions of those near her. This can often be as much a curse as it is a blessing, however.
Sibera's Character
Spoiler
Name: Jo'Ranji
Gender: Male
Race: Khajiit
Age: 26
Height: 6ft
Eye Color: Amber
Hair Style: Long, tied back in a loose pony tail.
Fur Color: Dark Tan
General Appearance: Like most khajiit, Jo'ranji is built with more agility and speed in mind, rather than brute strength. His body is thickly furred, hinting at coming from a colder climate than what most would be born in, or at least adapted to.
Tattoos/Scars: He has a few, some across his chest and gut from knife wounds and cuts. Along his right arm he has a long one trailing down the side from a rather nasty blade strike.
Class: Monk
Description: Monks are spiritualists, people who train to transcend violence by mastering it and understanding it. Though Jo'ranji has taken a slightly different twist on it by incorporating magic into the fighting forms. Such forms include the burning paw.
Major Skills: Hand to Hand, Blade, Blunt, Destruction, Acrobatics, Restoration, Marksman {knives, Stars], Athletics, Illusion
Apparel: Generally wears a long coat over a sleeve-less shirt and long black pants with leather boots.
Weapons: Hands/claws, 6 steel throwing Knives, Steel Wakizashi.
Backpack: Gold coins, Traveling rations, Sewing kit, bandages, 2 minor restore magic potions, 3 standard restore fatigue potions, 3 Standard restore health potions.
Spells:
Restoration: Fortify Strength, Fortify Speed, Fortify Agility. Minor Heal self, Minor restore fatigue
Illusion: Paralysis, Calm, Demoralize, Charm.
Destruction: Variety of touch based spells at varying levels of intensity from the three elements of fire, frost and shock.
Brief History: Jo'ranji grew up in one of the many Monasteries that dot Elsweyrs lands, though his was much closer to Valenwood and Cyrodiil, making it a bit more mixed and tolerable. The Monks there were more unorthodox, while training in the various forms of combat they also incorporated magic use into the training. This was how he was raised, like a sponge from a young age he learned their ways, the many forms of Khajiiti Martial arts, sword tactics and staffs. All of which he was taught to understand it and use this knowledge if all other venues had failed when it came to ending conflict through a more peaceful Medium. While Jo'ranji lacked the...well spoken manner of many others he did pick up on the use of charms, calming spells and demoralization spells to use when needed. Staying there until he hit advlthood, the Leader of the Monks asked that he and many others of his age leave and grow within the world, rather than spend all their lives inside the large compound. When ready, they were to return.
Jo'ranji has spent many years traveling the roads of Tamriel, from Cyrodiil to Hammerfell and even a trek into Skyrim and the borders of Morrowind, observing, learning and sometimes teaching others.
Name: Jo'Ranji
Gender: Male
Race: Khajiit
Age: 26
Height: 6ft
Eye Color: Amber
Hair Style: Long, tied back in a loose pony tail.
Fur Color: Dark Tan
General Appearance: Like most khajiit, Jo'ranji is built with more agility and speed in mind, rather than brute strength. His body is thickly furred, hinting at coming from a colder climate than what most would be born in, or at least adapted to.
Tattoos/Scars: He has a few, some across his chest and gut from knife wounds and cuts. Along his right arm he has a long one trailing down the side from a rather nasty blade strike.
Class: Monk
Description: Monks are spiritualists, people who train to transcend violence by mastering it and understanding it. Though Jo'ranji has taken a slightly different twist on it by incorporating magic into the fighting forms. Such forms include the burning paw.
Major Skills: Hand to Hand, Blade, Blunt, Destruction, Acrobatics, Restoration, Marksman {knives, Stars], Athletics, Illusion
Apparel: Generally wears a long coat over a sleeve-less shirt and long black pants with leather boots.
Weapons: Hands/claws, 6 steel throwing Knives, Steel Wakizashi.
Backpack: Gold coins, Traveling rations, Sewing kit, bandages, 2 minor restore magic potions, 3 standard restore fatigue potions, 3 Standard restore health potions.
Spells:
Restoration: Fortify Strength, Fortify Speed, Fortify Agility. Minor Heal self, Minor restore fatigue
Illusion: Paralysis, Calm, Demoralize, Charm.
Destruction: Variety of touch based spells at varying levels of intensity from the three elements of fire, frost and shock.
Brief History: Jo'ranji grew up in one of the many Monasteries that dot Elsweyrs lands, though his was much closer to Valenwood and Cyrodiil, making it a bit more mixed and tolerable. The Monks there were more unorthodox, while training in the various forms of combat they also incorporated magic use into the training. This was how he was raised, like a sponge from a young age he learned their ways, the many forms of Khajiiti Martial arts, sword tactics and staffs. All of which he was taught to understand it and use this knowledge if all other venues had failed when it came to ending conflict through a more peaceful Medium. While Jo'ranji lacked the...well spoken manner of many others he did pick up on the use of charms, calming spells and demoralization spells to use when needed. Staying there until he hit advlthood, the Leader of the Monks asked that he and many others of his age leave and grow within the world, rather than spend all their lives inside the large compound. When ready, they were to return.
Jo'ranji has spent many years traveling the roads of Tamriel, from Cyrodiil to Hammerfell and even a trek into Skyrim and the borders of Morrowind, observing, learning and sometimes teaching others.
HK-47's Character
Spoiler
Name: Rei-Keem (RAY-keem)
Gender: Female
Race: Argonian
Age: 42
Birthsign: The Thief
Height: 5'11"
Eye Color: Variable (most commonly orange)
Spinities Style: Rei's head is dotted with knobby horns in a wide crown about the sides and back of her skull. Gold rings pierce every other horn, and from them is draqed a variety of brightly coloured feathers ranging from bright crimson to deep purple.
Scale Color: Soft, dry, copper-hued scales cover Rei-keem's body. Her scales are small and close-knit, and the occasional violet stripe accents her body.
General Appearance: Rei-keem bears a soft, willowy gait that seems to glide through the air. Violet stripes touch the underside of her lean, long jaw, and her tail whips out long and thin behind her. Reverse articulated legs give her an odd appearance in Cyrodiil, and her flat chest and narrow head set her out from the more common Argonian people inhabiting the land. Her muscles are strong, but lean, worn and created by decades of living by hunting and stalking and trapping in the forests and marshes. Claws and fangs are sharp and long, honed by her years of hunting.
Tattoos/Scars: A single scar streaks across Rei's left jaw, but it is dull and difficult to see, being nearly twenty years old. Her left arm bears tribal scarring in her palm. The scar is fresh, and bears concentric circles swirling out to the edges of her palm.
Class: Mystic
Description: Mystics are thought by some to be utter loons, and thought by others to be the wisest individuals in the universe. A mystic is skilled with arcane magics and well knowledged in the ways of the past and the future. Oft it is the words of the mystics who guide kings and emperors.
Major Skills: Mysticism, Destruction, Alteration, Athletics, Alchemy
Minor Skills: Restoration, Short-Blade, Spear, Acrobatics, Hunting, Sneak
Apparel: Rei's clothing is home-made, and made for the swamps of her homeland. Rough, dark red leather forms a cowled shawl that covers the head and draqes over the shoulders. A twisting bound rope made of tree roots is embedded with beads of not-so-precious stones and bones taken from the hand of a werecrocodile. The root rope winds its way down Rei's bare left arm from bicep to wrist, where a small dangling strip of leather bears another string of beads. The right arm is protected by a roughly scaled leather pauldron and bracer which twist into supportive combat straps over the right hand. Tied to the outer right bicep is a sheath containing Rei's werecrocodile claw dagger. Flat briasts are concealed by a large necklace of long feathers plucked from the swamp birds of Black Marsh. A belt of twisted root rope holds a knee-length skirt of tassels and cloth. Her clawed feet are bare.
Weapons: Strapped to Rei-keem's right pauldron is a dagger hewn from the foreclaw of a werecrocodile. It is sharp and strong and light, and though legend says that a werecrocodile claw can shear through metal, Rei has yet to test it, as her strength is not sufficient for the task. Over her back, a long spear is kept, held by a leather strap around the chest. The spear is made of knobby wood that is surprisingly straight for being a natural stick. To the end is tied a steel tip remarkably similar to an Imperial spear tip, from which dangles a set of ten human finger bones set in small leather tassels.
Backpack: Rei-keem wears a satchel of leather made from human skin across her back. Little more than a cocoon-shaped leather container, within it can be found a few pieces of bread, raw meat wrapped in leaves, a number of leather tassels tied together and a small coil of rootrope. In a smaller pocket to the side can be found an assortment of leaves, berries, gems and stones, along with two unusually large eggs, each the size of a fist, wrapped carefully in leather. Tied to the outside of the sack is a small mortar and pestle.
Spell List: Mark, Recall, Night Eye, a variety of elemental shield spells, powerful burden and feather spells, minor restoration spells, a small spontaneous ignition spell, Detection spells ranging in intensity to detect creatures and people and magical items, Skill and attribute fortification spells, including Acrobatics, Strength, Speed and Agility, a minor frost touch spell, a Histgrowth spell, allowing for the controlled growth of plant life, and a farsight vision spell.
Brief History: Rei-keem was born on a fitful night among the bustling suburbs of Blackrose. Born to a family of fishers, Rei-keem spent the early years of her life helping her older brothers and father fish on the murky, swampy rivers near the city. For many years, Rei's childhood was unremarkable, noted only by the poor, despondent state of the family, and the loss of an infant sibling. From an early age, Rei-keem had demonstrated a knack for the mystical arts, often capable of foretelling storms and the location of good fishing areas, but this ability was unreliable. Despite her father's urgings, Rei was unable to control her gift, and while some days she could predict the future with pinpoint accuracy, on most others she would feel no leading at all. When the local Imperial governor increased taxes, Rei-keem's father, Hyrs-keem, used every method he could think of to stimulate his daughter into using her gift, up to and including physical abuse. Rei-keem ran away at the age of fourteen, during a particularly fitful storm.
Wandering through the swamp, it was only by relying heavily on the leading of her mysticism that Rei-keem was able to discern the direction to Soulrest, where she determined to forge a new life. Fate would not allow it, however. Deep in the night after a week's journey, Rei was attacked by a werecrocodile and badly injured. Only through the intervention of an old Argonian shaman, Kivak, did she survive. Kivak nursed Rei-keem back to health, and the old Argonian taught her the skills and spells to living in the swamps, and how to harness her mystical leanings.
Ten years passed apprenticing under Kivak, when Rei-keem grew to a strong and able hunter, and a skilled mystic. She was utterly devoted to Kivak, who seemed not to have aged at all during the past decade, and a childhood affection had grown into love. It was when she slew a werecrocodile, through a combination of trapping and cunning, that Kivak decided she was ready to be brought into his plan. The next few months were spent preparing and marshaling the followers from the local villages that Kivak had rallied, and together with Rei-keem's foresight they were able to overthrow the local government of Soulrest and place Kivak on the throne. But all was not as Rei had thought. She was not the only woman Kivak had been with, and with his power consolidated in Soulrest, he no longer had any need of the naive mystic who had helped him take the city-state's throne. Rei-keem's execution was ordered, and she fled from Soulrest for her life.
In the years that passed, Rei-keem lived alone in the swamps, always on the move, fearful of Kivak's assassins, though the likelyhood they would continue to pursue her was marginal. The pain of betrayal gave way to bitterness and anger, and eventually a lust for revenge. On her forty-first birthday, Rei-keem returned to Soulrest with a plan. She climbed the outer walls of Kivak's mansion and crept into his bedroom, where she had foreseen he would be. But Rei-keem had underestimated the clever shaman/king, and when her dagger ripped into the bedsheets, it was only feathers that bled from beneath the covers. Kivak had found another mystic - a stronger mystic, who had warned him of her plot. Enraged and surprised that Rei-keem had lived so many years, Kivak contracted the Shadowscales of the Dark Brotherhood to kill Rei-keem. For the second time in her life, Rei-keem found herself fleeing from Soulrest.
No where in the marshes was safe for her. Wherever she fled, there the Shadowscales were waiting. Rei-keem traveled to every corner of Black Marsh, but there was no respite to be found. And so, one year after fleeing Soulrest for the second time, Rei-keem left Black Marsh and traveled to Cyrodiil. Leyawiin offered no home for a tribal Argonian, so she continued to travel, up through the Niben Basin, and finally found her way to a modest sized city called Kvatch, home to open, welcoming people, little aware of the dark future that loomed on the horizon...
Name: Rei-Keem (RAY-keem)
Gender: Female
Race: Argonian
Age: 42
Birthsign: The Thief
Height: 5'11"
Eye Color: Variable (most commonly orange)
Spinities Style: Rei's head is dotted with knobby horns in a wide crown about the sides and back of her skull. Gold rings pierce every other horn, and from them is draqed a variety of brightly coloured feathers ranging from bright crimson to deep purple.
Scale Color: Soft, dry, copper-hued scales cover Rei-keem's body. Her scales are small and close-knit, and the occasional violet stripe accents her body.
General Appearance: Rei-keem bears a soft, willowy gait that seems to glide through the air. Violet stripes touch the underside of her lean, long jaw, and her tail whips out long and thin behind her. Reverse articulated legs give her an odd appearance in Cyrodiil, and her flat chest and narrow head set her out from the more common Argonian people inhabiting the land. Her muscles are strong, but lean, worn and created by decades of living by hunting and stalking and trapping in the forests and marshes. Claws and fangs are sharp and long, honed by her years of hunting.
Tattoos/Scars: A single scar streaks across Rei's left jaw, but it is dull and difficult to see, being nearly twenty years old. Her left arm bears tribal scarring in her palm. The scar is fresh, and bears concentric circles swirling out to the edges of her palm.
Class: Mystic
Description: Mystics are thought by some to be utter loons, and thought by others to be the wisest individuals in the universe. A mystic is skilled with arcane magics and well knowledged in the ways of the past and the future. Oft it is the words of the mystics who guide kings and emperors.
Major Skills: Mysticism, Destruction, Alteration, Athletics, Alchemy
Minor Skills: Restoration, Short-Blade, Spear, Acrobatics, Hunting, Sneak
Apparel: Rei's clothing is home-made, and made for the swamps of her homeland. Rough, dark red leather forms a cowled shawl that covers the head and draqes over the shoulders. A twisting bound rope made of tree roots is embedded with beads of not-so-precious stones and bones taken from the hand of a werecrocodile. The root rope winds its way down Rei's bare left arm from bicep to wrist, where a small dangling strip of leather bears another string of beads. The right arm is protected by a roughly scaled leather pauldron and bracer which twist into supportive combat straps over the right hand. Tied to the outer right bicep is a sheath containing Rei's werecrocodile claw dagger. Flat briasts are concealed by a large necklace of long feathers plucked from the swamp birds of Black Marsh. A belt of twisted root rope holds a knee-length skirt of tassels and cloth. Her clawed feet are bare.
Weapons: Strapped to Rei-keem's right pauldron is a dagger hewn from the foreclaw of a werecrocodile. It is sharp and strong and light, and though legend says that a werecrocodile claw can shear through metal, Rei has yet to test it, as her strength is not sufficient for the task. Over her back, a long spear is kept, held by a leather strap around the chest. The spear is made of knobby wood that is surprisingly straight for being a natural stick. To the end is tied a steel tip remarkably similar to an Imperial spear tip, from which dangles a set of ten human finger bones set in small leather tassels.
Backpack: Rei-keem wears a satchel of leather made from human skin across her back. Little more than a cocoon-shaped leather container, within it can be found a few pieces of bread, raw meat wrapped in leaves, a number of leather tassels tied together and a small coil of rootrope. In a smaller pocket to the side can be found an assortment of leaves, berries, gems and stones, along with two unusually large eggs, each the size of a fist, wrapped carefully in leather. Tied to the outside of the sack is a small mortar and pestle.
Spell List: Mark, Recall, Night Eye, a variety of elemental shield spells, powerful burden and feather spells, minor restoration spells, a small spontaneous ignition spell, Detection spells ranging in intensity to detect creatures and people and magical items, Skill and attribute fortification spells, including Acrobatics, Strength, Speed and Agility, a minor frost touch spell, a Histgrowth spell, allowing for the controlled growth of plant life, and a farsight vision spell.
Brief History: Rei-keem was born on a fitful night among the bustling suburbs of Blackrose. Born to a family of fishers, Rei-keem spent the early years of her life helping her older brothers and father fish on the murky, swampy rivers near the city. For many years, Rei's childhood was unremarkable, noted only by the poor, despondent state of the family, and the loss of an infant sibling. From an early age, Rei-keem had demonstrated a knack for the mystical arts, often capable of foretelling storms and the location of good fishing areas, but this ability was unreliable. Despite her father's urgings, Rei was unable to control her gift, and while some days she could predict the future with pinpoint accuracy, on most others she would feel no leading at all. When the local Imperial governor increased taxes, Rei-keem's father, Hyrs-keem, used every method he could think of to stimulate his daughter into using her gift, up to and including physical abuse. Rei-keem ran away at the age of fourteen, during a particularly fitful storm.
Wandering through the swamp, it was only by relying heavily on the leading of her mysticism that Rei-keem was able to discern the direction to Soulrest, where she determined to forge a new life. Fate would not allow it, however. Deep in the night after a week's journey, Rei was attacked by a werecrocodile and badly injured. Only through the intervention of an old Argonian shaman, Kivak, did she survive. Kivak nursed Rei-keem back to health, and the old Argonian taught her the skills and spells to living in the swamps, and how to harness her mystical leanings.
Ten years passed apprenticing under Kivak, when Rei-keem grew to a strong and able hunter, and a skilled mystic. She was utterly devoted to Kivak, who seemed not to have aged at all during the past decade, and a childhood affection had grown into love. It was when she slew a werecrocodile, through a combination of trapping and cunning, that Kivak decided she was ready to be brought into his plan. The next few months were spent preparing and marshaling the followers from the local villages that Kivak had rallied, and together with Rei-keem's foresight they were able to overthrow the local government of Soulrest and place Kivak on the throne. But all was not as Rei had thought. She was not the only woman Kivak had been with, and with his power consolidated in Soulrest, he no longer had any need of the naive mystic who had helped him take the city-state's throne. Rei-keem's execution was ordered, and she fled from Soulrest for her life.
In the years that passed, Rei-keem lived alone in the swamps, always on the move, fearful of Kivak's assassins, though the likelyhood they would continue to pursue her was marginal. The pain of betrayal gave way to bitterness and anger, and eventually a lust for revenge. On her forty-first birthday, Rei-keem returned to Soulrest with a plan. She climbed the outer walls of Kivak's mansion and crept into his bedroom, where she had foreseen he would be. But Rei-keem had underestimated the clever shaman/king, and when her dagger ripped into the bedsheets, it was only feathers that bled from beneath the covers. Kivak had found another mystic - a stronger mystic, who had warned him of her plot. Enraged and surprised that Rei-keem had lived so many years, Kivak contracted the Shadowscales of the Dark Brotherhood to kill Rei-keem. For the second time in her life, Rei-keem found herself fleeing from Soulrest.
No where in the marshes was safe for her. Wherever she fled, there the Shadowscales were waiting. Rei-keem traveled to every corner of Black Marsh, but there was no respite to be found. And so, one year after fleeing Soulrest for the second time, Rei-keem left Black Marsh and traveled to Cyrodiil. Leyawiin offered no home for a tribal Argonian, so she continued to travel, up through the Niben Basin, and finally found her way to a modest sized city called Kvatch, home to open, welcoming people, little aware of the dark future that loomed on the horizon...
Ikosahedrons' character
Spoiler
Name: Aliera Commena
Gender: Female
Race: Imperial
Age: 23
Height: 5'9"
Eye Color: Grey/Green
Hair Style: Shoulder-length dark brown hair
Skin Color: Pale
Birthsign: The Atronach
Appearance: Aliera is young, but not inexperienced. Unfortunately, her experiences have left marks on her, she looks haunted and tired. There are few scars on her body, due to her armor, but she has a scar from a cut through her face, over her left eye down to her cheek.
Class: Marauder
Description: Marauders are bands of mercenaries that operate outside the confines of law and morality. They sometimes take contracts that no legal organization would take, and sometimes simply plunder a county for profit. They tend to be well-equipped and mostly consist of veteran soldiers and deserters.
Major Skills: Heavy Armor, Long Blade, Armorer, Speechcraft, Athletics.
Things she's hopeless at: Magic in general, Sneak, Security.
Apparel: Aliera is always clad in her exquisite ebony armor, which was custom made for her when she was to inherit her father's title. It is deep black and lacks most of the decoration of ordinary ebony armor. It is full plate and is designed to offer protection rather than looks. Underneath, she wears loose-fitting plain white pants and a matching shirt
Weapons: She carries an ordinary steel longsword after she lost her weapons in Black Marsh. Ideally, she would also carry a dagger, but currently she doesn't have one.
Backpack: 13 Gold coins, a canteen of water, half a loaf of bread, a whetstone.
Spells: None, apart from race powers.
History: Aliera was born to the Elder Councillor Deimus Commenus, not as his first child, but as the first of his children to reach age six. She was groomed to inherit her father's seat on the council and received all the training and education needed for such a task. However, when she was eighteen, her little brother had also escaped the clutches of infant mortality and replaced her as designated heir. Unwilling to accept this, Aliera left home to find her own fortune and carve out a name and title for herself. She first hired on as a mercenary guard on a trading expedition to Elsweyr. On the return trip through the desert, the relationship with the native Khajiit soured and it became thoroughly unpleasant. Aliera was left with a distaste for beast races from this endeavor, as well as some funds to start her own mercenary company. Back in Leyawiin she employed some of her fellow guards as well as new talent on a secret task from the local countess: Expansion of county Leyawiin into nearby Black Marsh.
This task turned out to be a journey to Oblivion, as the swamp, native wildlife, rival mercenaries, Argonians and Dunmer slavers created a maelstrom of violence her fledgling company could not endure. Her associates died or deserted one by one as the violence she used to achieve her task escalated. Finally, she decided to abandon her contract with the countess and restore her battered finances to enable another attempt to become powerful enough to be on the Elder Council. Fortunately, her company had come into the possession of a Hist tree and uprooted it. They tried to smuggle it out of the province, but had to settle for selling it to a rival company when their numbers were thinned too far. Unfortunately, the rival company ambushed them and Aliera was left as the sole survivor.
She has since drifted to the city of Kvatch, trying to find a handle on the mess her life is.
Gender: Female
Race: Imperial
Age: 23
Height: 5'9"
Eye Color: Grey/Green
Hair Style: Shoulder-length dark brown hair
Skin Color: Pale
Birthsign: The Atronach
Appearance: Aliera is young, but not inexperienced. Unfortunately, her experiences have left marks on her, she looks haunted and tired. There are few scars on her body, due to her armor, but she has a scar from a cut through her face, over her left eye down to her cheek.
Class: Marauder
Description: Marauders are bands of mercenaries that operate outside the confines of law and morality. They sometimes take contracts that no legal organization would take, and sometimes simply plunder a county for profit. They tend to be well-equipped and mostly consist of veteran soldiers and deserters.
Major Skills: Heavy Armor, Long Blade, Armorer, Speechcraft, Athletics.
Things she's hopeless at: Magic in general, Sneak, Security.
Apparel: Aliera is always clad in her exquisite ebony armor, which was custom made for her when she was to inherit her father's title. It is deep black and lacks most of the decoration of ordinary ebony armor. It is full plate and is designed to offer protection rather than looks. Underneath, she wears loose-fitting plain white pants and a matching shirt
Weapons: She carries an ordinary steel longsword after she lost her weapons in Black Marsh. Ideally, she would also carry a dagger, but currently she doesn't have one.
Backpack: 13 Gold coins, a canteen of water, half a loaf of bread, a whetstone.
Spells: None, apart from race powers.
History: Aliera was born to the Elder Councillor Deimus Commenus, not as his first child, but as the first of his children to reach age six. She was groomed to inherit her father's seat on the council and received all the training and education needed for such a task. However, when she was eighteen, her little brother had also escaped the clutches of infant mortality and replaced her as designated heir. Unwilling to accept this, Aliera left home to find her own fortune and carve out a name and title for herself. She first hired on as a mercenary guard on a trading expedition to Elsweyr. On the return trip through the desert, the relationship with the native Khajiit soured and it became thoroughly unpleasant. Aliera was left with a distaste for beast races from this endeavor, as well as some funds to start her own mercenary company. Back in Leyawiin she employed some of her fellow guards as well as new talent on a secret task from the local countess: Expansion of county Leyawiin into nearby Black Marsh.
This task turned out to be a journey to Oblivion, as the swamp, native wildlife, rival mercenaries, Argonians and Dunmer slavers created a maelstrom of violence her fledgling company could not endure. Her associates died or deserted one by one as the violence she used to achieve her task escalated. Finally, she decided to abandon her contract with the countess and restore her battered finances to enable another attempt to become powerful enough to be on the Elder Council. Fortunately, her company had come into the possession of a Hist tree and uprooted it. They tried to smuggle it out of the province, but had to settle for selling it to a rival company when their numbers were thinned too far. Unfortunately, the rival company ambushed them and Aliera was left as the sole survivor.
She has since drifted to the city of Kvatch, trying to find a handle on the mess her life is.
-----------
For all those concerned: Combat has ended. You are now free to interact without getting walloped. Now comes the decision of "Where to next." Remember: There are 5 towers, several underground complex entrances and a few routes to the Sigil Keep. (NOTE: The bridge is locked.)
