» Fri May 04, 2012 10:05 am The Gray Blood Company
Mission Two: Haven
RP Thread
Still accepting new players, but space is limited.
"It was at that moment I realized I needed to make my escape. No matter what - even if I died in the attempt - I had to slip the grasp of my captors. Better that than rot in some godsforsaken Thalmor jail until the end of time."
Flight from the Thalmor
Hadrik Oaken-Heart
Plot:
It is the 174th year of the Fourth Era. The Aldmeri Dominion, comprised of the former provinces of Valenwood, Elsweyr, and the Summerset Isles, has been at war with the fractured remnants of the Empire for three long years. The Thalmor, leaders of the Dominion, seem set on nothing less than the conquest of all of Tamriel. The main elven army, led by Lord Naarifen, has struck north from Elsweyr, and is now advancing on the Imperial City itself. The embodiment of ruthless ambition, Naarifen has ordered anyone unfortunate enough to be caught in the army's path to be taken captive, to prevent advance warning from reaching the emperor. Focused on his goal, so close at hand, the Thalmor general had left his prisoners lightly guarded. A fact he has come to deeply regret.
Two nights before the siege was fated to begin, the alarm went up in one of Lord Naarifen's camps. The soldiers had set up for the night outside the remains of Fort Homestead, on the southern shore of the Rumare. The prisoners they had gathered along the way were forced into the crumbling ruins of the fort's yard, and at the blackest hour of the night they began their desparate plan for escape. The small but hardy crew managed to break free of their shackles and fight their way through the interior of the fort, killing almost two dozen Aldmeri soldiers in the process. After a bloody battle in the depths of the fort, the prisoners, led by a disgraced Bosmer commander, found a secret exit that led right onto the Rumare.
From there the prisoners made a reckless dash for freedom, skirmishing with several Thalmor patrols during their flight, and taking a few of their enemies captive. Many of their number were killed or wounded in the effort, but the prisoners had no time to grieve. After what felt like days running under the fading moonlight, the group stumbled across an Imperial patrol, just south of Weye. The captain of the patrol at first thought them Aldmeri spies, and was ready to give the order to attack when the prisoners managed to convince him of the truth. After that they were led, carefully watched but unharmed, to the first steps of the Imperial Bridge. Finally, bloodied and exhausted but alive, the prisoners had found their freedom.
And yet, with the Thalmor army approaching fast, none knew how long that newfound freedom would last. Now it is up to them to convince the emperor himself of his impending doom, and hope Titus Mede II will contrive a plan to save not only them, but the whole of the Empire.
"The Emperor's decision to fight his way out of the city rather than make a last stand was a bold one. No general dared advise him to abandon the capital, but Titus II was proven right in the end."
The Great War
By Justianus Quintius
The Scenario:
After their escape from the Thalmor, the prisoners have finally found their way to the Imperial City. Their task is not done yet, however; their freedom means nothing while their elven captors still live. Now, with the lives of an entire city in the balance, they must find a way to speak with the emperor himself, to inform him of the armies camped at his doorstep. The captain of the Imperial patrol that escorted them to the city at first laughed at their request, but the grave old Bosmer at their head soon convinced him otherwise. Now they are being led to a spare barracks, to rest until the emperor agrees to see them. In the meantime, the captain said, they are free to visit one of the city's many taverns or baths, and relax after their harrowing escape.
The rest of the Imperial City are always wary of a Thalmor attack, but as of yet have not heard of the current invasion. Rumors abound, of course, but for the most part the city is ignorant of their approaching doom . Some, however, may be more informed- or just more paranoid- and are already looking for a way out. For them, the bloodied band of prisoners may just mean their escape as well.
Rules:
Standard roleplaying rules apply, of course. If it breaks the forum rules, it is not allowed. Other than that just use common sense; no ubering, no character control, no all knowing characters. If Jonas or I tell you something, you'd be wise to listen, because we do reserve the right to kick you out of the RP. If you want to drop out, just tell me, and we'll do something about your character. If you leave without telling anyone, and don't return soon, your character will be killed, sorry. Anything other than that is fine, within reason. If you have a crazy idea that you're not sure about going through with, run it by one of us first. And remember the number one rule: have fun!
Character Sheets: (15)
Darkom - Faendal
Spoiler
Name: Faendal
Race: Bosmer
Gender: Male
Age: 116 (Appears mid sixties)
Sign: The Serpent
Home Country: Valenwood - Bal Fall
Faction and Rank: Ex-Sergeant of the Aldmeri Dominion
Faction Description: The Dominion war machine is one of the most dangerous and efficient bureaucracies Tamriel has ever seen. Even the Legion cannot match its discipline and order. As such, to be put in command of one of its elite advance squadrons is an honor indeed, reserved only for the most skilled, commanding soldiers. With that discipline, however, comes harsh punishments; the Thalmor have little time for mercy, or fair trials.
Class: Thalmor Scout
Class Description: Faendal served as commander of one of the most infamous Aldmeri squadrons. They called themselves the Fury of Y'ffre, and they were notorious for their efficiency in killing Imperials. The Thalmor would send them out, in front of the main army, to silently kill any sentries, then launch surprise attacks on enemy camps. As Faendal and his elves assassinated generals and dismantled fortifications, the main Aldmeri forces would march in, slaughtering the confused soldiers in vicious ambushes.
Skills: Growing up a warrior-hunter in Valenwood, Faendal's hands rarely left his bow. Even among his village, renowned for their archers, he was considered one of the best. Along with his bowmanship, Faendal was a skilled hunter, tracking large game for weeks before finally taking it down. Since his recruitment into the Thalmor army, he has grown from a warrior to a true soldier, and from there into a very capable leader.
Appearance: Faendal is a soldier. He cares little for his looks, other than what he needs to intimidate his men and terrify his enemies. As such, few would consider his tough, scarred visage the least bit attractive. It is, however, the face of a warrior, and fewer still can feel entirely safe when the Bosmer is around.
Hair: The Bosmer keeps his dark hair long, pushed back from his face, falling nearly to his shoulders. The black tresses are so dirty and matted, however, there is little chance of it interfering in a fight. There are usually bits of leaves and twigs sticking from it at odd angles, like the mane of some dark beast.
Eyes: Faendal's eyes are hard, and so dark a brown that they appear black.
Build: Bosmer are naturally short of stature, and Faendal is no exception, but despite his height the elf maintains an intimidating, muscular posture. His whole body is made of hard, sharp lines, his skin rough to the touch. He is a warrior- a survivor- and his physique is a testament to that fact.
Personality: To be revealed (Aka, I'm lazy)
Weapons: During his time serving under the Aldmeri, Faendal used a traditional Bosmeri horn bow, along with bone arrows, in accordance with the Green Pact. He also had several bone or tusk daggers that he kept on his person. Upon his expulsion from the Thalmor army and subsequent incarceration, all of his weapons were taken from him.
Clothing: When on duty, Faendal wore tight fitting leather and hide armor, specially fitted for silence and ease of movement. This too was taken from him, however, and he was left with a few thin hides woven into makeshift trousers that barely reach his knees. His guards, both Altmer, threw a woven shirt at him once. After dodging the garment, Faendal proceeded to grab the nearest one by the wrist and claw at his face. Since then no one has questioned his choice of attire.
Miscellaneous: The old soldier was allowed to keep his leather bracelet, intricately cut in the shape of the sigil of Y'ffre, patron diety of the Bosmer. Other than that he was not allowed any possessions.
Magic: None, other than his racial ability to commune with animals.
History: To be revealed.
Motivation for Joining: He desires his freedom over all else, and a chance to take his revenge on the Thalmor that stripped him of his rank and put him in chains.
Race: Bosmer
Gender: Male
Age: 116 (Appears mid sixties)
Sign: The Serpent
Home Country: Valenwood - Bal Fall
Faction and Rank: Ex-Sergeant of the Aldmeri Dominion
Faction Description: The Dominion war machine is one of the most dangerous and efficient bureaucracies Tamriel has ever seen. Even the Legion cannot match its discipline and order. As such, to be put in command of one of its elite advance squadrons is an honor indeed, reserved only for the most skilled, commanding soldiers. With that discipline, however, comes harsh punishments; the Thalmor have little time for mercy, or fair trials.
Class: Thalmor Scout
Class Description: Faendal served as commander of one of the most infamous Aldmeri squadrons. They called themselves the Fury of Y'ffre, and they were notorious for their efficiency in killing Imperials. The Thalmor would send them out, in front of the main army, to silently kill any sentries, then launch surprise attacks on enemy camps. As Faendal and his elves assassinated generals and dismantled fortifications, the main Aldmeri forces would march in, slaughtering the confused soldiers in vicious ambushes.
Skills: Growing up a warrior-hunter in Valenwood, Faendal's hands rarely left his bow. Even among his village, renowned for their archers, he was considered one of the best. Along with his bowmanship, Faendal was a skilled hunter, tracking large game for weeks before finally taking it down. Since his recruitment into the Thalmor army, he has grown from a warrior to a true soldier, and from there into a very capable leader.
Appearance: Faendal is a soldier. He cares little for his looks, other than what he needs to intimidate his men and terrify his enemies. As such, few would consider his tough, scarred visage the least bit attractive. It is, however, the face of a warrior, and fewer still can feel entirely safe when the Bosmer is around.
Hair: The Bosmer keeps his dark hair long, pushed back from his face, falling nearly to his shoulders. The black tresses are so dirty and matted, however, there is little chance of it interfering in a fight. There are usually bits of leaves and twigs sticking from it at odd angles, like the mane of some dark beast.
Eyes: Faendal's eyes are hard, and so dark a brown that they appear black.
Build: Bosmer are naturally short of stature, and Faendal is no exception, but despite his height the elf maintains an intimidating, muscular posture. His whole body is made of hard, sharp lines, his skin rough to the touch. He is a warrior- a survivor- and his physique is a testament to that fact.
Personality: To be revealed (Aka, I'm lazy)
Weapons: During his time serving under the Aldmeri, Faendal used a traditional Bosmeri horn bow, along with bone arrows, in accordance with the Green Pact. He also had several bone or tusk daggers that he kept on his person. Upon his expulsion from the Thalmor army and subsequent incarceration, all of his weapons were taken from him.
Clothing: When on duty, Faendal wore tight fitting leather and hide armor, specially fitted for silence and ease of movement. This too was taken from him, however, and he was left with a few thin hides woven into makeshift trousers that barely reach his knees. His guards, both Altmer, threw a woven shirt at him once. After dodging the garment, Faendal proceeded to grab the nearest one by the wrist and claw at his face. Since then no one has questioned his choice of attire.
Miscellaneous: The old soldier was allowed to keep his leather bracelet, intricately cut in the shape of the sigil of Y'ffre, patron diety of the Bosmer. Other than that he was not allowed any possessions.
Magic: None, other than his racial ability to commune with animals.
History: To be revealed.
Motivation for Joining: He desires his freedom over all else, and a chance to take his revenge on the Thalmor that stripped him of his rank and put him in chains.
Antlive - Ermac
Spoiler
Name: Ermac [Saraam Ko'Daas]
Race: Orsimer
Gender: Male
Age: 46
Class: Battlemage
Birthsign: The Ritual
Skills: One-Handed Blunt/Sharp, Two-Handed, Staff, Illusion, Reincarnation, Alteration (usually holds a war axe in one hand with a staff in the other)
Appearance: Old black beard with a thick streak of gray. He has what's left of his faded hairline pulled back into a slick ponytail. Hi eyes are slightly red, frm his weariness, his anger, or his natural pigment no one knows Walks with a slight limp.
Armor (pre-capture): He dons sleveless mages robes with Gauntlets, Spaulders, and boots made of Steel
Weapons (pre-capture): Dwarven Axe, Solid Silver Staff of Rite
Items (pre-capture): Knapsack parchment detailing all of Skyrim with names of cities as well as holds, Scroll of Fortify Magicka, Sigil Stone, 2 Health Solutions
Personality: Usually with his own kind, Ermac kept to the mountains of western Morrowind, often traveling to the smaller settlements in the bordering Cyrdill, which gave him a curt, but patet regard for the Imperial and Breton merchants he often dealt with in the black market. He is a man of words, often using them with cunning and wit, geting him out of and in some cases into situations a he pleased.
Strengths: Smarter than most Orcs, affinity for magic, dangerous close range skills
Weaknesses: His age has robbed him of his edge in combat, as he is now slower and less prone to rage, as well as the de-habilitating arrow to the knee.
Bio: To be very soon completed.
Race: Orsimer
Gender: Male
Age: 46
Class: Battlemage
Birthsign: The Ritual
Skills: One-Handed Blunt/Sharp, Two-Handed, Staff, Illusion, Reincarnation, Alteration (usually holds a war axe in one hand with a staff in the other)
Appearance: Old black beard with a thick streak of gray. He has what's left of his faded hairline pulled back into a slick ponytail. Hi eyes are slightly red, frm his weariness, his anger, or his natural pigment no one knows Walks with a slight limp.
Armor (pre-capture): He dons sleveless mages robes with Gauntlets, Spaulders, and boots made of Steel
Weapons (pre-capture): Dwarven Axe, Solid Silver Staff of Rite
Items (pre-capture): Knapsack parchment detailing all of Skyrim with names of cities as well as holds, Scroll of Fortify Magicka, Sigil Stone, 2 Health Solutions
Personality: Usually with his own kind, Ermac kept to the mountains of western Morrowind, often traveling to the smaller settlements in the bordering Cyrdill, which gave him a curt, but patet regard for the Imperial and Breton merchants he often dealt with in the black market. He is a man of words, often using them with cunning and wit, geting him out of and in some cases into situations a he pleased.
Strengths: Smarter than most Orcs, affinity for magic, dangerous close range skills
Weaknesses: His age has robbed him of his edge in combat, as he is now slower and less prone to rage, as well as the de-habilitating arrow to the knee.
Bio: To be very soon completed.
Sibera - Karzon
Spoiler
Name: Karzon
Race: Khajiit – Cathay-Raht
Gender: Male
Age: 32
Sign: Serpant
Home Country: Elsweyr
Faction and Rank: Shadowfang Resistance Cell; Captain
Faction Description: Khajiit who are opposed to the Aldmeri Dominions rule and lordship over Elsweyr and despise the split of the country. Shadowfangs specifically hunt down anyone or anything that comes from the Dominion, burning their caravans, kidnapping officials and performing all kinds of other activities to thwart the Dominion, even taking more extreme activities as well.
Class: Assassin
Major Skills: Blade, Security, Light Armour, Sneak, Marksman, Parkour
Minor Skills: Acrobatics, Illusion, Speech, Alchemy
Appearance: For a Khajiit, Karzon is fairly odd with slate grey fur colouration and white underside, though plain at first sight if one were to look closer they’d see feint stripes amongst the fur. He has a tiger tattoo on the side of his neck marking him as a member of the Terrorfang Resistance Cell in Elsweyr.
Hair: Long mane, Grey
Eyes: Deep Green
Build: Muscled, toned like a Monk.
Personality: Karzon can be described as having a very cold front to him, He treats most elves with disdain, especially Altmer who he thinks are nothing more than glorified Slavers or murderers. Not one to make friends easily as he sports a darker and somewhat dirty sense of humor, Karzon enjoys indulging in Vices of all sorts from drugs, alcohol, women… anything that takes his fancy.
Weapons: Ebony Dagger, Silver Shortsword, Elven Longbow with a quiver of 20 arrows and 12 Arrows of penetration
Clothing: Leather armour under a black robe and hood, fitted to conform to his body for maximum movement. He wears a prized gold amulet with a small emblem of his family on it with a small flawless Diamond in the middle.
Miscellaneous: Rope, Food, Gold Coins, Skooma Pipe and Moon Sugar
Magic: Chameleon, Light, Charm, Demoralize, Paralysis
History: Karzon was born into a wealthy family in Senchal, both parents owners of a very well to-do shipping company who shipped primarily arms and armour amongst other supplies. He was in a large family, many siblings and being the youngest made both a target and the one to be protected the most. His oldest brother he stuck to like glue, the pair being very hard to separate. They grew up well enough, Karzon getting into trouble from stealing things and hiding them elsewhere for kicks. When they got older the Dominion had come, his brother joined the resistance when they took control. Disliking the way Elsweyr had bent to the will of elves. Beings who enslaved them for whatever reasons they desired and so Karzon joined as well, despite their parents not liking it but supporting them anyway with small shipments of weapons and armour.
Karzon’s brother rose in rank very quickly, followed by Karzon and soon the pair worked well within raid groups targeting Altmer shipments in the ports though Karzon began targeting high up officials when the opportunity presented itself which resulted his induction into the Shadowfang cell, a well organized group who’s aim was to specifically assassinate targets of opportunity as best they could to weaken the altmer and their supporters. They rose in infamy as being the best assassins in the Resistance and the most hated from the Aldmeri, they even formed a force to try and wipe them out with little success. Those whom the dark brotherhood approached rarely accepted the offer, putting their own country above that of some cult of assassins.
Race: Khajiit – Cathay-Raht
Gender: Male
Age: 32
Sign: Serpant
Home Country: Elsweyr
Faction and Rank: Shadowfang Resistance Cell; Captain
Faction Description: Khajiit who are opposed to the Aldmeri Dominions rule and lordship over Elsweyr and despise the split of the country. Shadowfangs specifically hunt down anyone or anything that comes from the Dominion, burning their caravans, kidnapping officials and performing all kinds of other activities to thwart the Dominion, even taking more extreme activities as well.
Class: Assassin
Major Skills: Blade, Security, Light Armour, Sneak, Marksman, Parkour
Minor Skills: Acrobatics, Illusion, Speech, Alchemy
Appearance: For a Khajiit, Karzon is fairly odd with slate grey fur colouration and white underside, though plain at first sight if one were to look closer they’d see feint stripes amongst the fur. He has a tiger tattoo on the side of his neck marking him as a member of the Terrorfang Resistance Cell in Elsweyr.
Hair: Long mane, Grey
Eyes: Deep Green
Build: Muscled, toned like a Monk.
Personality: Karzon can be described as having a very cold front to him, He treats most elves with disdain, especially Altmer who he thinks are nothing more than glorified Slavers or murderers. Not one to make friends easily as he sports a darker and somewhat dirty sense of humor, Karzon enjoys indulging in Vices of all sorts from drugs, alcohol, women… anything that takes his fancy.
Weapons: Ebony Dagger, Silver Shortsword, Elven Longbow with a quiver of 20 arrows and 12 Arrows of penetration
Clothing: Leather armour under a black robe and hood, fitted to conform to his body for maximum movement. He wears a prized gold amulet with a small emblem of his family on it with a small flawless Diamond in the middle.
Miscellaneous: Rope, Food, Gold Coins, Skooma Pipe and Moon Sugar
Magic: Chameleon, Light, Charm, Demoralize, Paralysis
History: Karzon was born into a wealthy family in Senchal, both parents owners of a very well to-do shipping company who shipped primarily arms and armour amongst other supplies. He was in a large family, many siblings and being the youngest made both a target and the one to be protected the most. His oldest brother he stuck to like glue, the pair being very hard to separate. They grew up well enough, Karzon getting into trouble from stealing things and hiding them elsewhere for kicks. When they got older the Dominion had come, his brother joined the resistance when they took control. Disliking the way Elsweyr had bent to the will of elves. Beings who enslaved them for whatever reasons they desired and so Karzon joined as well, despite their parents not liking it but supporting them anyway with small shipments of weapons and armour.
Karzon’s brother rose in rank very quickly, followed by Karzon and soon the pair worked well within raid groups targeting Altmer shipments in the ports though Karzon began targeting high up officials when the opportunity presented itself which resulted his induction into the Shadowfang cell, a well organized group who’s aim was to specifically assassinate targets of opportunity as best they could to weaken the altmer and their supporters. They rose in infamy as being the best assassins in the Resistance and the most hated from the Aldmeri, they even formed a force to try and wipe them out with little success. Those whom the dark brotherhood approached rarely accepted the offer, putting their own country above that of some cult of assassins.
Werewolf & Vampire - Lycus the Hunter
Spoiler
Name: Lycus Castius Desselius. Nicknamed "Lycus The Hunter."
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Race: Imperial
Skills: Hand to Hand, Spear, Blade and Blunt as well as archery. No proficient skills in magic. Lycus has much skill in playing the drums and the lute.
http://oi42.tinypic.com/25eusy0.jpgLycus stood 1.82 meters tall. As his father Kraven, Lycus had brown colored skin and hazel eyes as well as the muscular build and the long black hair. However, he is much thinner than his father. His lips and eyes were full and lively, often capturing the attention of some women.
Despite his strong build and status as a warrior, Lycus was subtle when it came to being a hunter and often relied on his guile as on muscle and skill in melee in contrast of his sister’s speed. Unlike his father who spoke with gravelly voice which was raspy, Lycus had more of a simple and low voice, as if he was sad and with low self esteem. Such displays of sadness was often seen in his facial expressions as well.
Weapons: Lycus carries with him a silver spear and an axe. The spear had ancient inscriptions along the body and the edge as well, a weapon that was passed onto him by his father. His axe was also in remembrance of his mother, who was skilled in the use. Among these things, he also has a sharp hunting combat knife which he holds close.
http://oi42.tinypic.com/i4l7oy.jpg He is usually garbed with his own armor made of fur. The armor covered his waist and thighs and was very durable. When in warmer climates such as Cyrodiil and some environments in Skyrim, he walks freely sans shirt. Most of the time, however, he is armored with silver or steel with a insignia on the shoulders.
Other Items: A number of books; Lycanthropic Legends of Skyrim, On Lycanthropy, and Physicality of werewolves. Other books such as the Totems of Hircine and “Kraven’s Journal.” Items such as food and potions he can salvage from animals and abandoned forts. As for jewelry, Lycus carries an ancient wolf amulet. He also has a lute in his possession.
Personality: Lycus is instinctive and knowledgeable. He is distrustful of new people, but he is known to have a softer side when it came to the people he knows and cares about. Lycus had an honorable code which was passed onto to him by his father. Much of his life as a warrior was done under these guidelines. These moral codes would shape his life as a Bounty Hunter and a man of respect. Lycus was more of a lone wolf who usually kept to himself, this was due to his mother’s fate and his father’s destiny years prior to his maturity in his condition.
He also adopted traits from his mother when he became a Bounty Hunter to honor her name. He took on fugitives and criminals in which he could bring down with brutal justice and merciless honor. He paid close attention to his situations and always double-checked his surroundings. Even so, he is not enamored about the business in Bounty Hunting as Illana.
The fate of his mother inspired within him a deeply rooted animosity against the Vigilantes of Stendarr and the Silver Hand. The events after his mother’s death that molded and shaped his future and also scarred his life. This resulted in him honoring and glorifying his parents whenever he could in his actions and at times, his speech. He also had a special love for his sister, whom he obsessively tries to protect.
History: Born to a relatively wealthy family of warriors and hunters of an ancient bloodline, Lycus grew up alongside his younger sister, Illana, in the Darksky manor near the Great Forest. From a young age, he learned how to hunt and fight as a warrior from both of his parents skilled in such use. His father was a former slave gladiator which was famous in Hammerfell and in Cyrodiil for his title as Champion. His mother was a huntress and a infamous Bounty Hunter who retired after she bore offspring.
His childhood was one of peace and tranquility. Growing up, he was well-educated in various topics of family history and worldly affairs; Politics, hunting, ancient legends and etc. Even though he has studied the field of politics to an extent, he never cared to get involved with it as guidance from his parents. Even with his wealth, he was humble to other who had less than him. His relationship with his sister was superbly positive, aside from the small sibling issues they faced. At the age of twelve, he learned how to use a real sword after years of practicing with the wooden sword. He was taught how to hunt by his mother and father, and was schooled in the ways of a warrior. His later life as a mercenary would be ultimately his to choose.
Following the fate of his parents, Lycus inherited the family manor and belongings. He also claimed much territory within the Great Forest. He was also given direction to look over his younger sister by a year. The two began to expand their ideas on how to preserve the family bloodline. Both became bounty hunters in honor of Vera, and in hopes to be as successful as the huntress herself when she lived. The two often hunted for targets around the province and left the manor in the care of bodyguards and loyal servants. Lycus had mind to transport the family belongings to Skyrim and begin anew while preserving the legacy, a direct contrast to his sister’s wishes.
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Race: Imperial
Skills: Hand to Hand, Spear, Blade and Blunt as well as archery. No proficient skills in magic. Lycus has much skill in playing the drums and the lute.
http://oi42.tinypic.com/25eusy0.jpgLycus stood 1.82 meters tall. As his father Kraven, Lycus had brown colored skin and hazel eyes as well as the muscular build and the long black hair. However, he is much thinner than his father. His lips and eyes were full and lively, often capturing the attention of some women.
Despite his strong build and status as a warrior, Lycus was subtle when it came to being a hunter and often relied on his guile as on muscle and skill in melee in contrast of his sister’s speed. Unlike his father who spoke with gravelly voice which was raspy, Lycus had more of a simple and low voice, as if he was sad and with low self esteem. Such displays of sadness was often seen in his facial expressions as well.
Weapons: Lycus carries with him a silver spear and an axe. The spear had ancient inscriptions along the body and the edge as well, a weapon that was passed onto him by his father. His axe was also in remembrance of his mother, who was skilled in the use. Among these things, he also has a sharp hunting combat knife which he holds close.
http://oi42.tinypic.com/i4l7oy.jpg He is usually garbed with his own armor made of fur. The armor covered his waist and thighs and was very durable. When in warmer climates such as Cyrodiil and some environments in Skyrim, he walks freely sans shirt. Most of the time, however, he is armored with silver or steel with a insignia on the shoulders.
Other Items: A number of books; Lycanthropic Legends of Skyrim, On Lycanthropy, and Physicality of werewolves. Other books such as the Totems of Hircine and “Kraven’s Journal.” Items such as food and potions he can salvage from animals and abandoned forts. As for jewelry, Lycus carries an ancient wolf amulet. He also has a lute in his possession.
Personality: Lycus is instinctive and knowledgeable. He is distrustful of new people, but he is known to have a softer side when it came to the people he knows and cares about. Lycus had an honorable code which was passed onto to him by his father. Much of his life as a warrior was done under these guidelines. These moral codes would shape his life as a Bounty Hunter and a man of respect. Lycus was more of a lone wolf who usually kept to himself, this was due to his mother’s fate and his father’s destiny years prior to his maturity in his condition.
He also adopted traits from his mother when he became a Bounty Hunter to honor her name. He took on fugitives and criminals in which he could bring down with brutal justice and merciless honor. He paid close attention to his situations and always double-checked his surroundings. Even so, he is not enamored about the business in Bounty Hunting as Illana.
The fate of his mother inspired within him a deeply rooted animosity against the Vigilantes of Stendarr and the Silver Hand. The events after his mother’s death that molded and shaped his future and also scarred his life. This resulted in him honoring and glorifying his parents whenever he could in his actions and at times, his speech. He also had a special love for his sister, whom he obsessively tries to protect.
History: Born to a relatively wealthy family of warriors and hunters of an ancient bloodline, Lycus grew up alongside his younger sister, Illana, in the Darksky manor near the Great Forest. From a young age, he learned how to hunt and fight as a warrior from both of his parents skilled in such use. His father was a former slave gladiator which was famous in Hammerfell and in Cyrodiil for his title as Champion. His mother was a huntress and a infamous Bounty Hunter who retired after she bore offspring.
His childhood was one of peace and tranquility. Growing up, he was well-educated in various topics of family history and worldly affairs; Politics, hunting, ancient legends and etc. Even though he has studied the field of politics to an extent, he never cared to get involved with it as guidance from his parents. Even with his wealth, he was humble to other who had less than him. His relationship with his sister was superbly positive, aside from the small sibling issues they faced. At the age of twelve, he learned how to use a real sword after years of practicing with the wooden sword. He was taught how to hunt by his mother and father, and was schooled in the ways of a warrior. His later life as a mercenary would be ultimately his to choose.
Following the fate of his parents, Lycus inherited the family manor and belongings. He also claimed much territory within the Great Forest. He was also given direction to look over his younger sister by a year. The two began to expand their ideas on how to preserve the family bloodline. Both became bounty hunters in honor of Vera, and in hopes to be as successful as the huntress herself when she lived. The two often hunted for targets around the province and left the manor in the care of bodyguards and loyal servants. Lycus had mind to transport the family belongings to Skyrim and begin anew while preserving the legacy, a direct contrast to his sister’s wishes.
Werewolf & Vampire - Illana
Spoiler
Name: Illana Desselius
Race: Imperial
Gender: Female
Age: 23
Home Country: Cyrodiil
Faction and Rank: Freelance Bounty Hunter and mercenary.
Class: Bounty Hunter, Huntress.
Class Description: Works for anyone who pays well. Often hunts for food and is very resourceful, able to make almost any environment a temporary home. Also a worshiper of Hircine. She was crafty and efficient, having a keen sense of guile imbued in her own manner of pursing her career.
http://oi40.tinypic.com/15558yg.jpgIllana was a professional. Due to her condition, she was stronger in her physical power, but she was more inclined to rely on speed and guile to take down bounties and her enemies. She is proficient in archery and a great fighter when it came to brawling and hand to hand, able to take down even her own brother in playful combat. She trained in the art of the sword by her father and is also as skilled as Lycus.
http://oi40.tinypic.com/zinewh.jpg Having dirty blond hair and amber colored eyes, Illana looked very close to her mother, Vera. Although despite the similarities, she was less muscular and more lithe, bearing more distinguishing birthmarks on her arms and shoulder areas. She often has a sarcastic or a grinning malice to her facial expression.
Hair: Dirty blonde hair which falls to her shoulders.
Eyes: Amber and golden.
Build: Strong and also lithe, maintained by a healthy lifestyle of running and pursing.
Personality: During her youth, she was often hostile and aggressive to the point where she was often kept away from other people. Growing up, she was more tied to her mother, Vera, and thus was more inclined to mirror some of her mother’s ways as oppose to her brother’s ties to his father. She was confident and displayed a dry sarcastic wit about her. Unlike her mother, she understood the sad nature of tragedy and often sought to understand her families unfortunate history. She was also determined in her line of mercenary work and saw it as the only way of life. She was very decisive yet grim and uncaring most of the time. The death of her mother softened and yet hardened her personality. She respected those who had similar backgrounds as her, yet she understood the value of fighting her own battles and casting away pity in dangerous times. Her perspective on life is considered harsh and unforgiving by most, she values strength and knows each day could prove to be her last. This particular trait also hardened her.
When becoming a huntress of bounties, she filled and occupied the position her mother left behind as a Bounty Hunter. She shared the same traits as well; cold, calculating, and merciless when it came to tracking down criminals and fugitives of the law. She was less worried about the morality of her work than her brother, Lycus. She regarded coin and drakes as a matter of importance. Even so, she wasn’t hesitant to demand more payment when the opportunity allowed. Illana also was very dedicated to her career if the pay was good. She took on jobs that were considered to be very perilous, costly and nearly impossible to complete. The thirst for life and glory stemmed from her desire to eclipse her mother’s legacy as the infamous Bounty Hunter and to further improve the Desselius and Darksky legacy.
Weapons: Illana carries with her a elven bow and silver arrows, as well as her mother’s old hunting combat knife. She is skilled in the use of the blade and the axe, but she usually salvages what she can from her defeated foes.
Clothing: Illana uses light armor, donning the item as one of the inheritance left behind by her mother; Her steel and silver armor, properly built to sustain some damage sans degrading. The two black shoulder pads on each of her shoulder bearing an ancient and ritualistic tribal symbol. Her gauntlets bore sharp spiked edges on tip to give a painful punch that could result in death and they carefully covered her hands and fingers. The knee-pads could carry poison and paralyses darts while her custom-made boots could conceal her sharp and efficient hunting dagger. Her entire gear could cover her body, the only exception was the sleeves which could be modified and removed from the overall gear if she desired. In cold areas, she could easily cover her arms, but in climates such as Morrowind, her elbows and arms were uncovered. Her liner shirt beneath the armor was made of thin ceramic plating to protect from intense heat and cold. On her hips, she had a leather utility belt that usually had a number of leather pouches. But to add to her fearsome armor was her helmet. A large metal piece which could withstand brutal punishment. It served to conceal her identity in several high-risk missions when dealing with drug-lords and other types of dangers. The helm complete covered her head and face, only her eyes could be seen from them in small visors. It was the ultimate armor and one of her favorite items in her equipment of Bounty Hunting trade.
When in her comfortable gear, she wears metal pauldrons on her shoulders and has a huntsman’s vest that is more like a metal bra of sorts. For pants she wears leather pants or huntsman’s pants depending on her mood and the climate.
Miscellaneous: Poison of paralysis, various jerky for snack. Family amulet which hangs on her neck. A few other books and a flute.
Magic: Only healing abilities applied to herself.
History: Illana was born into a family of wealthy hunters living near the border of the Great Forest. In a secluded home, she was raised and taught in the ways of the hunter and the ways of the fighter by her mother and father, who also taught more mundane things such as speaking properly and living responsibly. Growing up, Illana was known to be hostile and aggressive toward her brother and even animals, causing the parents to be more cautious about her. This “negative’ traits was taken advantage of by her father, who took her into the forest to hunt and to practice more with her archery. At the age of eleven, she killed her first bear with her wooden bow.
Thrilled with the hunt, she obsessively went into the forest day upon day to hunt, and eventually learned the territory around her home like the back of her hand. It wasn’t until one day when her mother died when she was sixteen years of age that she truly began to spiral down into insanity, even with the wise council of her understanding, yet distraught father. Eventually, her father died and she was left to take care of the family name with her brother, Lycus. Both grew even more attached to each other and agreed to try and live up to their parent’s name. Illana began to live under the family guidelines and began to start her own career in becoming a Bounty Hunter.
Illana started in Bravil and the lowest areas of Cyrodiil, eventually growing in name among the criminals in the area. Although she was more hated than feared. For the past years she continued to attempt to keep the territory her mother purchased and live a peaceful life with what was left of her family. It wasn’t long before her professionalism began to blossom with her work that the Thalmor invaded Cyrodiil. She was taken prisoner while doing a job in Bravil after she took a bounty to her employer.
Motivation for Joining: To live up to the family name and to eclipse her mother in the Bounty Hunting trade by becoming famous and becoming the best at her career. Sees the Thalmor as the end of her lifestyle.
Race: Imperial
Gender: Female
Age: 23
Home Country: Cyrodiil
Faction and Rank: Freelance Bounty Hunter and mercenary.
Class: Bounty Hunter, Huntress.
Class Description: Works for anyone who pays well. Often hunts for food and is very resourceful, able to make almost any environment a temporary home. Also a worshiper of Hircine. She was crafty and efficient, having a keen sense of guile imbued in her own manner of pursing her career.
http://oi40.tinypic.com/15558yg.jpgIllana was a professional. Due to her condition, she was stronger in her physical power, but she was more inclined to rely on speed and guile to take down bounties and her enemies. She is proficient in archery and a great fighter when it came to brawling and hand to hand, able to take down even her own brother in playful combat. She trained in the art of the sword by her father and is also as skilled as Lycus.
http://oi40.tinypic.com/zinewh.jpg Having dirty blond hair and amber colored eyes, Illana looked very close to her mother, Vera. Although despite the similarities, she was less muscular and more lithe, bearing more distinguishing birthmarks on her arms and shoulder areas. She often has a sarcastic or a grinning malice to her facial expression.
Hair: Dirty blonde hair which falls to her shoulders.
Eyes: Amber and golden.
Build: Strong and also lithe, maintained by a healthy lifestyle of running and pursing.
Personality: During her youth, she was often hostile and aggressive to the point where she was often kept away from other people. Growing up, she was more tied to her mother, Vera, and thus was more inclined to mirror some of her mother’s ways as oppose to her brother’s ties to his father. She was confident and displayed a dry sarcastic wit about her. Unlike her mother, she understood the sad nature of tragedy and often sought to understand her families unfortunate history. She was also determined in her line of mercenary work and saw it as the only way of life. She was very decisive yet grim and uncaring most of the time. The death of her mother softened and yet hardened her personality. She respected those who had similar backgrounds as her, yet she understood the value of fighting her own battles and casting away pity in dangerous times. Her perspective on life is considered harsh and unforgiving by most, she values strength and knows each day could prove to be her last. This particular trait also hardened her.
When becoming a huntress of bounties, she filled and occupied the position her mother left behind as a Bounty Hunter. She shared the same traits as well; cold, calculating, and merciless when it came to tracking down criminals and fugitives of the law. She was less worried about the morality of her work than her brother, Lycus. She regarded coin and drakes as a matter of importance. Even so, she wasn’t hesitant to demand more payment when the opportunity allowed. Illana also was very dedicated to her career if the pay was good. She took on jobs that were considered to be very perilous, costly and nearly impossible to complete. The thirst for life and glory stemmed from her desire to eclipse her mother’s legacy as the infamous Bounty Hunter and to further improve the Desselius and Darksky legacy.
Weapons: Illana carries with her a elven bow and silver arrows, as well as her mother’s old hunting combat knife. She is skilled in the use of the blade and the axe, but she usually salvages what she can from her defeated foes.
Clothing: Illana uses light armor, donning the item as one of the inheritance left behind by her mother; Her steel and silver armor, properly built to sustain some damage sans degrading. The two black shoulder pads on each of her shoulder bearing an ancient and ritualistic tribal symbol. Her gauntlets bore sharp spiked edges on tip to give a painful punch that could result in death and they carefully covered her hands and fingers. The knee-pads could carry poison and paralyses darts while her custom-made boots could conceal her sharp and efficient hunting dagger. Her entire gear could cover her body, the only exception was the sleeves which could be modified and removed from the overall gear if she desired. In cold areas, she could easily cover her arms, but in climates such as Morrowind, her elbows and arms were uncovered. Her liner shirt beneath the armor was made of thin ceramic plating to protect from intense heat and cold. On her hips, she had a leather utility belt that usually had a number of leather pouches. But to add to her fearsome armor was her helmet. A large metal piece which could withstand brutal punishment. It served to conceal her identity in several high-risk missions when dealing with drug-lords and other types of dangers. The helm complete covered her head and face, only her eyes could be seen from them in small visors. It was the ultimate armor and one of her favorite items in her equipment of Bounty Hunting trade.
When in her comfortable gear, she wears metal pauldrons on her shoulders and has a huntsman’s vest that is more like a metal bra of sorts. For pants she wears leather pants or huntsman’s pants depending on her mood and the climate.
Miscellaneous: Poison of paralysis, various jerky for snack. Family amulet which hangs on her neck. A few other books and a flute.
Magic: Only healing abilities applied to herself.
History: Illana was born into a family of wealthy hunters living near the border of the Great Forest. In a secluded home, she was raised and taught in the ways of the hunter and the ways of the fighter by her mother and father, who also taught more mundane things such as speaking properly and living responsibly. Growing up, Illana was known to be hostile and aggressive toward her brother and even animals, causing the parents to be more cautious about her. This “negative’ traits was taken advantage of by her father, who took her into the forest to hunt and to practice more with her archery. At the age of eleven, she killed her first bear with her wooden bow.
Thrilled with the hunt, she obsessively went into the forest day upon day to hunt, and eventually learned the territory around her home like the back of her hand. It wasn’t until one day when her mother died when she was sixteen years of age that she truly began to spiral down into insanity, even with the wise council of her understanding, yet distraught father. Eventually, her father died and she was left to take care of the family name with her brother, Lycus. Both grew even more attached to each other and agreed to try and live up to their parent’s name. Illana began to live under the family guidelines and began to start her own career in becoming a Bounty Hunter.
Illana started in Bravil and the lowest areas of Cyrodiil, eventually growing in name among the criminals in the area. Although she was more hated than feared. For the past years she continued to attempt to keep the territory her mother purchased and live a peaceful life with what was left of her family. It wasn’t long before her professionalism began to blossom with her work that the Thalmor invaded Cyrodiil. She was taken prisoner while doing a job in Bravil after she took a bounty to her employer.
Motivation for Joining: To live up to the family name and to eclipse her mother in the Bounty Hunting trade by becoming famous and becoming the best at her career. Sees the Thalmor as the end of her lifestyle.
Jonas Vault - Fithvael
Spoiler
Name: Fithvael (Fith-vul) Hlaalu-Rikkavaanskyr
Race: Nord Bosmer-Dunmer (on his mother's side)
Gender: Male
Age: 126
Sign: The Steed
Home Country: Skyrim
Faction and Rank: The Gallowglass, Galloglaich of Arvaanskyr
Faction Description- The Gallowglass are a small sect of warriors that protect Arvaanskyr, a haven deep in the Velothi Mountains that belongs to both elves and Nords. It was founded by Fithvael's great-grandsires, a tribe from Valenwood, a tribe from Vvardenfell, and a clan of Skyrim. They fought the Falmer guarding the great Dwemer ruins and claimed it as their home. They founded an order of sentinels who would guard the newly named Arvaanskyr.
They wielded longswords, capable of being used both with one or two hands, it was a Gallowglass. This is what the order was named. For generations, the kin of the these great families protected its walls. Occasionally, they would go to Valenwood and seek anyone wanting to join them, as they were also a partial mercenary order.
Class: Gallowglass
Class Description: A warrior wielding the Gallowglass, a bastard sword. As a mercenary, when not defending Arvaanskyr, the Gallowglass learns to use his bastard sword, spear, bow, as well as training in medium armor. Usually a thick boiled-leather cuirass with steel plates, and a scale hauberk and padding underneath.
Skills: One/Two-Handed, Spear, Medium Armor, Marksman, Tracking, Ilusion
Appearance: Fithvael is of average height, around 6'1", but perhaps taller than other Bosmer. He has a rather athletic build, accented by his Nordic and Bosmeri tattoos. His face is somewhat gaunt, very hawk-like, with a blue hand-print on his face. A mark of his Bosmer Tribe. The Moon-and-Star is tattooed on the left side of his neck, with the Old Nordic rune of his Nord kin tattooed on the right side.
Hair: His hair is stark white, worn in a Mohawk style. He also sports a long goatee tied in a warriors-knot.
Eyes: Reddish-Orange
Build: Very Toned and Athletic
Personality: Fithvael is a hardened old mer, but not without compassion. He shows kindness should it be needed, and toughness when it too is needed. He is a fierce friend as well as a fierce enemy.
Weapons: A simple bastard sword, sporting a Bosmeri blade with leaf, vine, and elvish filigree. The guard, hilt, and pommel all being of Nordic work. 4' blade, 1' from guard to pommel. 5 ft total. Named
Astherion
Clothing: A simple cotton shirt, thick padded baldric, leather vambraces, black cloth pants and boots. Also wears a green cloak with hood.
Armor (worn over clothing): A hauberk of thick, polished bronze scale and ring mail. The hauberk extends to elbows, and down to the knees. Polished bronze greaves. At last, he wears an open face helmet with oval Bosmeri style cheek-guards, and Nordic style lobster-tail neck-guard.
Miscellaneous: Flask of sujamma, bottle of mead, bola of water, jerky, bread, journal w/quill and ink, pipe, tobacco, matches.
Magic: Detect Life, a few Destruction spells.
History: Fithvael was raised in a secluded life, being born of the people of Arvaanskyr. A refuge where Man and Mer lived in harmony. His mother was a half-dunmer Bosmer, shunned by her family and exiled. When Fithvael's father, Rorke, fell in love, he too was disowned. One day, an old Dunmer asked them to follow him into the Velothi mountains, bearing claim that he was grandfather of Fithvael's mother. With the promise of a home, they went. This home was the true birthplace of Fithvael, Arvaanskyr.
He was taught many things, in the ways to balance, hone, and be at harmony; mind, body, and soul. Not only these philosophies, but far more practical things as well, the ways of a warrior. The Way of the Galloglaiche. For years, he lived in this secluded paradise of knowledge and understanding. When he became 42, he was inducted as Gallowglass of Arvaanskyr, a protector to all races, oppressor of none, and defender of those who could not defend themselves.
But with this noble cause, Fithvael and his order were hired at times, though if it involved the killing of an innocent, the contract would be reversed. The man who hired was to be killed, and his money given to the innocent who was wished dead, the Gallowglaiche taking a small cut of their own. Most of the time, it was bandits and terrible creatures they were hired out for. But when the Aldmeri Dominion arose, the Galloglaiche taught and led guerrilla war parties in Valenwood and Elsweyr.
Reason For Joining: Fithvael was captured in Valenwood, in Riverhold. He was overwhelmed when they found he held a sword. Fithvael has always hated the Thalmor, but now he really [censored] hated them. The Thalmor bastard, Aulrindel, now keeps Fithvael's sword on his person. But now he has it back!
Race: Nord Bosmer-Dunmer (on his mother's side)
Gender: Male
Age: 126
Sign: The Steed
Home Country: Skyrim
Faction and Rank: The Gallowglass, Galloglaich of Arvaanskyr
Faction Description- The Gallowglass are a small sect of warriors that protect Arvaanskyr, a haven deep in the Velothi Mountains that belongs to both elves and Nords. It was founded by Fithvael's great-grandsires, a tribe from Valenwood, a tribe from Vvardenfell, and a clan of Skyrim. They fought the Falmer guarding the great Dwemer ruins and claimed it as their home. They founded an order of sentinels who would guard the newly named Arvaanskyr.
They wielded longswords, capable of being used both with one or two hands, it was a Gallowglass. This is what the order was named. For generations, the kin of the these great families protected its walls. Occasionally, they would go to Valenwood and seek anyone wanting to join them, as they were also a partial mercenary order.
Class: Gallowglass
Class Description: A warrior wielding the Gallowglass, a bastard sword. As a mercenary, when not defending Arvaanskyr, the Gallowglass learns to use his bastard sword, spear, bow, as well as training in medium armor. Usually a thick boiled-leather cuirass with steel plates, and a scale hauberk and padding underneath.
Skills: One/Two-Handed, Spear, Medium Armor, Marksman, Tracking, Ilusion
Appearance: Fithvael is of average height, around 6'1", but perhaps taller than other Bosmer. He has a rather athletic build, accented by his Nordic and Bosmeri tattoos. His face is somewhat gaunt, very hawk-like, with a blue hand-print on his face. A mark of his Bosmer Tribe. The Moon-and-Star is tattooed on the left side of his neck, with the Old Nordic rune of his Nord kin tattooed on the right side.
Hair: His hair is stark white, worn in a Mohawk style. He also sports a long goatee tied in a warriors-knot.
Eyes: Reddish-Orange
Build: Very Toned and Athletic
Personality: Fithvael is a hardened old mer, but not without compassion. He shows kindness should it be needed, and toughness when it too is needed. He is a fierce friend as well as a fierce enemy.
Weapons: A simple bastard sword, sporting a Bosmeri blade with leaf, vine, and elvish filigree. The guard, hilt, and pommel all being of Nordic work. 4' blade, 1' from guard to pommel. 5 ft total. Named
Astherion
Clothing: A simple cotton shirt, thick padded baldric, leather vambraces, black cloth pants and boots. Also wears a green cloak with hood.
Armor (worn over clothing): A hauberk of thick, polished bronze scale and ring mail. The hauberk extends to elbows, and down to the knees. Polished bronze greaves. At last, he wears an open face helmet with oval Bosmeri style cheek-guards, and Nordic style lobster-tail neck-guard.
Miscellaneous: Flask of sujamma, bottle of mead, bola of water, jerky, bread, journal w/quill and ink, pipe, tobacco, matches.
Magic: Detect Life, a few Destruction spells.
History: Fithvael was raised in a secluded life, being born of the people of Arvaanskyr. A refuge where Man and Mer lived in harmony. His mother was a half-dunmer Bosmer, shunned by her family and exiled. When Fithvael's father, Rorke, fell in love, he too was disowned. One day, an old Dunmer asked them to follow him into the Velothi mountains, bearing claim that he was grandfather of Fithvael's mother. With the promise of a home, they went. This home was the true birthplace of Fithvael, Arvaanskyr.
He was taught many things, in the ways to balance, hone, and be at harmony; mind, body, and soul. Not only these philosophies, but far more practical things as well, the ways of a warrior. The Way of the Galloglaiche. For years, he lived in this secluded paradise of knowledge and understanding. When he became 42, he was inducted as Gallowglass of Arvaanskyr, a protector to all races, oppressor of none, and defender of those who could not defend themselves.
But with this noble cause, Fithvael and his order were hired at times, though if it involved the killing of an innocent, the contract would be reversed. The man who hired was to be killed, and his money given to the innocent who was wished dead, the Gallowglaiche taking a small cut of their own. Most of the time, it was bandits and terrible creatures they were hired out for. But when the Aldmeri Dominion arose, the Galloglaiche taught and led guerrilla war parties in Valenwood and Elsweyr.
Reason For Joining: Fithvael was captured in Valenwood, in Riverhold. He was overwhelmed when they found he held a sword. Fithvael has always hated the Thalmor, but now he really [censored] hated them. The Thalmor bastard, Aulrindel, now keeps Fithvael's sword on his person. But now he has it back!
Polish Gamer - Tyranus
Spoiler
Name: Tyranus Florentius
Race: Imperial (Colovian)
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Sign: The Lord
Home Country: Cyrodiil
Faction and Rank: Civilian, Citizen of the Empire
Class: Farmer
Class Description: Up until his capture, Ty had been working as a farmer on his family’s farm outside Chorrol. Colovia is good hunting country, and so Ty has been taught how to use a bow, and his become quite the shot despite his dislike for hunting. His father, an ex-legion solider, taught him some tricks with a bow, as well as teaching him to use a shield and sword combo. Ty is comfortable using the light armor of hunters, which he would be much more familiar with than heavy armor, despite his desire to use it. Learning to hunt has also helped him to move unseen and unheard, avoiding detection with relative ease. As with many Imperials, Tyranus is gifted with a silver tongue, and can be very persuasive. He’s also screwed around with a lock or two, but isn’t much of an expert.
Skills: One-handed (Blade), Block, Archery, Sneak, Light Armor, Speech, Lockpick
Appearance: Ty is pretty average in size, he stands at just under six feet and weighs in a bit under 180 lbs. His satin blond hair falls just above his straight brow, covering his ears and extending to the nape of his neck. He keeps it above his collar, although sometimes it finds its way there before he can get it cut. It’s typically swept away to the left, however a few gaps allow his forehead to show through. His eyes are a sharp gray-blue color, but very friendly, seemingly on the edge of a laugh most of the time. He has a wide smile which lights up his face, as well as his eyes. His nose curves downwards, although its rounded shape makes it only noticeable when viewed from the side. Ty has a cleft chin, a bit more heroic looking than most. Ty doesn’t have an abundance of muscle, although he isn’t lacking either. Farming has made him broad shouldered, and discreet muscle lines his entire body. He carries himself with a strong set to his shoulders, indicative of his confidence.
Hair: Blond
Eyes: Gray-blue
Build: Average
Personality: Tyranus is quite intelligent, however he doesn’t lord it over people; rather he refers to it when needed. His intelligence, along with his insubordinate nature, allow for a quick wit, which is often littered in most of what he says. Ty is very outgoing, and he talks A LOT. Whether it be a smart-aleck comment or just an observance, he rarely stays silent for long. He loves to laugh, and is often heard telling jokes and stories to his friends. Ty doesn’t have much of a temper, however he tends to get highly frustrated every once in a while, and is extremely strong willed and stubborn at times. That strong will leads to him being fearless with his words, not caring who he is talking to if something needs to be said, or if he plain just wants to. Good-natured through and through, he is always up to helping someone in need, although he maintains a very care-free way of thinking. He was raised to believe in the Nine, but he doesn’t force his own beliefs on anyone else, and he doesn’t necessarily agree with everything the religion dictates.
Weapons: Ty is equiped with a steel sword and an elven shield, as well as a hunting bow and elven arrows. He also has an elven dagger, which he keeps hidden on his person.
Clothing: Ty is wearing his leather armor, boots, and bracers he recovered from the Thalmor. He is also wearing the black cloth shirt and pants he wears with that armor.
Miscellaneous: Ty wears a silver chain around his neck and a nondescript ribbon on his left wrist.
Magic: Tyranus knows a charm spell, and a healing spell. That is about all he knows about magic, and he doesn’t use either of them often, although he has picked up a tip or two from reading books.
History: Tyranus was born in Chorrol to a farmer and his wife, a teacher at the Chapel. He grew up on his family’s farm, learning how to tend to the animals and the crops from an early age. He was always a quick learner, and he took quickly to the school lessons at the Chapel during the week. His father taught him how to use a bow, which Ty enjoyed immensely. He also enjoyed sword fighting, having lessons in melee fighting from his father from an early age. However, Ty didn’t take as well to hunting. Although he enjoyed dressing up in armor and sneaking around the woods, he didn’t like killing animals. To this day Ty only hunts what he absolutely needs.
Ty developed his disobedient streak early in his teens, questioning authority and even his religion very early. He was raised to believe in the Nine, and he does, however he doesn’t blindly follow everything it states. However Ty was painfully aware that he knew very little about the world, despite his attempts, and he considered his own objections somewhat unfounded. He wanted to see more than just Chorrol, Ty wanted to become worldly, so that his questions might hold some weight.
As he grew older, Tyranus developed a desire to join the Legion, go out and experience the world. However, he fell for a girl, which soon put a kibash on that. He contented himself with the thought of exploring Cyrodiil, and at least knowing his own province. One day, after some preparation. Ty told his family (and his girl) that he would go off to explore for a while, and that he didn’t know when he would be back. His family assumed he wouldn’t be long, but the girl he loved knew him better, and feared for him with the war going on. However Ty would not be swayed, and he set out on his journey, towards Anvil. He happened across the invading Thalmor, and after a day or so of evading them throughout the countryside, Tyranus was captured.
After a successful escape attempt, Ty managed to make it to the Imperial City with some of his fellow escapees. They are now attempting to warn the Emperor of the impeding Thalmor invasion, but have stopped in the Feed Bag, a tavern in the city.
Motivation for Joining: Survival mostly, however his need for adventure is a sizable factor as well.
Race: Imperial (Colovian)
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Sign: The Lord
Home Country: Cyrodiil
Faction and Rank: Civilian, Citizen of the Empire
Class: Farmer
Class Description: Up until his capture, Ty had been working as a farmer on his family’s farm outside Chorrol. Colovia is good hunting country, and so Ty has been taught how to use a bow, and his become quite the shot despite his dislike for hunting. His father, an ex-legion solider, taught him some tricks with a bow, as well as teaching him to use a shield and sword combo. Ty is comfortable using the light armor of hunters, which he would be much more familiar with than heavy armor, despite his desire to use it. Learning to hunt has also helped him to move unseen and unheard, avoiding detection with relative ease. As with many Imperials, Tyranus is gifted with a silver tongue, and can be very persuasive. He’s also screwed around with a lock or two, but isn’t much of an expert.
Skills: One-handed (Blade), Block, Archery, Sneak, Light Armor, Speech, Lockpick
Appearance: Ty is pretty average in size, he stands at just under six feet and weighs in a bit under 180 lbs. His satin blond hair falls just above his straight brow, covering his ears and extending to the nape of his neck. He keeps it above his collar, although sometimes it finds its way there before he can get it cut. It’s typically swept away to the left, however a few gaps allow his forehead to show through. His eyes are a sharp gray-blue color, but very friendly, seemingly on the edge of a laugh most of the time. He has a wide smile which lights up his face, as well as his eyes. His nose curves downwards, although its rounded shape makes it only noticeable when viewed from the side. Ty has a cleft chin, a bit more heroic looking than most. Ty doesn’t have an abundance of muscle, although he isn’t lacking either. Farming has made him broad shouldered, and discreet muscle lines his entire body. He carries himself with a strong set to his shoulders, indicative of his confidence.
Hair: Blond
Eyes: Gray-blue
Build: Average
Personality: Tyranus is quite intelligent, however he doesn’t lord it over people; rather he refers to it when needed. His intelligence, along with his insubordinate nature, allow for a quick wit, which is often littered in most of what he says. Ty is very outgoing, and he talks A LOT. Whether it be a smart-aleck comment or just an observance, he rarely stays silent for long. He loves to laugh, and is often heard telling jokes and stories to his friends. Ty doesn’t have much of a temper, however he tends to get highly frustrated every once in a while, and is extremely strong willed and stubborn at times. That strong will leads to him being fearless with his words, not caring who he is talking to if something needs to be said, or if he plain just wants to. Good-natured through and through, he is always up to helping someone in need, although he maintains a very care-free way of thinking. He was raised to believe in the Nine, but he doesn’t force his own beliefs on anyone else, and he doesn’t necessarily agree with everything the religion dictates.
Weapons: Ty is equiped with a steel sword and an elven shield, as well as a hunting bow and elven arrows. He also has an elven dagger, which he keeps hidden on his person.
Clothing: Ty is wearing his leather armor, boots, and bracers he recovered from the Thalmor. He is also wearing the black cloth shirt and pants he wears with that armor.
Miscellaneous: Ty wears a silver chain around his neck and a nondescript ribbon on his left wrist.
Magic: Tyranus knows a charm spell, and a healing spell. That is about all he knows about magic, and he doesn’t use either of them often, although he has picked up a tip or two from reading books.
History: Tyranus was born in Chorrol to a farmer and his wife, a teacher at the Chapel. He grew up on his family’s farm, learning how to tend to the animals and the crops from an early age. He was always a quick learner, and he took quickly to the school lessons at the Chapel during the week. His father taught him how to use a bow, which Ty enjoyed immensely. He also enjoyed sword fighting, having lessons in melee fighting from his father from an early age. However, Ty didn’t take as well to hunting. Although he enjoyed dressing up in armor and sneaking around the woods, he didn’t like killing animals. To this day Ty only hunts what he absolutely needs.
Ty developed his disobedient streak early in his teens, questioning authority and even his religion very early. He was raised to believe in the Nine, and he does, however he doesn’t blindly follow everything it states. However Ty was painfully aware that he knew very little about the world, despite his attempts, and he considered his own objections somewhat unfounded. He wanted to see more than just Chorrol, Ty wanted to become worldly, so that his questions might hold some weight.
As he grew older, Tyranus developed a desire to join the Legion, go out and experience the world. However, he fell for a girl, which soon put a kibash on that. He contented himself with the thought of exploring Cyrodiil, and at least knowing his own province. One day, after some preparation. Ty told his family (and his girl) that he would go off to explore for a while, and that he didn’t know when he would be back. His family assumed he wouldn’t be long, but the girl he loved knew him better, and feared for him with the war going on. However Ty would not be swayed, and he set out on his journey, towards Anvil. He happened across the invading Thalmor, and after a day or so of evading them throughout the countryside, Tyranus was captured.
After a successful escape attempt, Ty managed to make it to the Imperial City with some of his fellow escapees. They are now attempting to warn the Emperor of the impeding Thalmor invasion, but have stopped in the Feed Bag, a tavern in the city.
Motivation for Joining: Survival mostly, however his need for adventure is a sizable factor as well.
The Ascended Sleeper - Varth
Spoiler
Name: Varthlokkur (Varth for short)
Race: Dark Elf
Gender: Male
Age: Born in 3E 401 (roughly 230 years old)
Sign: Mage
Home Country: Vvardenfell
Faction and Rank: ex-Tribunal Temple, ex-Dark Brotherhood
Faction Description: N/A
Skills: Varth’s main magic skills focus on the magic school of destruction, illusion, and conjuration. He is also skilled in staying hidden, and using one handed weapons (particularly bladed weapons). Alchemy and Enchanting are also one of his fortes. In addition to these talents, Varth knows how to doctor wounds and cook food.
Appearance: Varth is tall, standing at 6’2’’, with hawk-like features and burning red eyes often associated with his race. His skin is a pale ash color, and he often conceals himself in dark cloaks and robes, making him appear ominous.
Hair: Longish, falls to his eyes, shaggy and dark brown in color.
Eyes: Crimson
Build: Light and wiry
Personality: It is difficult to pinpoint Varth’s personality. He seems very quiet and distant, but he is really just sitting back anolyzing everything that is said or done. He is often paranoid, but once you get him to open up, you have made friend who is loyal and discreet. Varth is very witty and sarcastic, once you get him talking, and can laugh in the face of anything, whether it’s a goblin warrior or Mehnrunes Dagon himself. He is the kind of person, however, who will save his own skin and leave you to die, but Varth is sometimes known to fall to the folly of pride and honor.
Weapons: Varth had an Orcish Longsword before he was captured, as well as several knives, and a few vials of corrosive/combustible alchemical liquids.
Clothing: Varth wore a black cloak and robe, as well as some soft leather boots.
Miscellaneous: A few books, ingredients, food, and some random supplies
Magic: Varth enjoys summoning unique Deadra, as well as using illusion magic to drive his enemies insane, and turning the tide of battle. He is very skilled with destruction magic, having the ability to tear enemies asunder with his spells.
History: Varth grew up in an orphanage with no parents, and at a young age, he decided to venture out into the world. He joined the Tribunal Temple very early on, yearning for spirituality and knowledge. After many years, he raised high into the ranks due to his cunning and intellect, and use of magic. He became a librarian at Vivic’s Hall of Wisdom, and eventually took the place of head scribe, who was in charge of finding books from all over Morrowind, cataloging them, and placing them in the library. In addition to this post, Varthlokkur was often assigned to kill under the name of the Temple due to his natural skills as an assassin. He burned out many ashlander cults, Neravine impersonators, dissident priests, and other civilians.
But, as he got to an even higher rank, Varth discovered the truth behind the Tribunal’s power. He felt betrayed and lied to, and all of the assassinations he performed for the Temple were against innocent citizens. Varth quickly pack up his belongings and fled Morrowind in a rage, but his exit was not as crafty as preferred.
He ended up killing two Temple personnel to escape, stealing a few tomes on necromancy and forbidden magic, and was branded a heretic. Varth ran from the Temple assassins for many years, and in said time, he joined the Thieves Guild and a few mercenary groups. Varth was finally able to stop running when the Neravine completed his quest and killed Dagoth Ur, and the number of assassins who hunted him finally trickled down to only one or two.
Varth continued to move around for many years, joining up with the The Dark Brotherhood until the he met a young Breton woman. The two quickly fell in love and got married, allowing Varth to finally settle down. It didn’t last long, however. She was killed in a raid by the Aldmeri Dominon before the start of the Great War. Varth flew into a rage, and tracked the Thalmor raiding party back to their base, where he killed every single one of them. The Dunmer was not satisfied, and became a terrorist in Thalmor lands.
Varth was captured by the Aldmeri Dominion’s advancing army when he was staying in Bravil.
Motivation for Joining: Hates the Thalmor, wants revenge.
Race: Dark Elf
Gender: Male
Age: Born in 3E 401 (roughly 230 years old)
Sign: Mage
Home Country: Vvardenfell
Faction and Rank: ex-Tribunal Temple, ex-Dark Brotherhood
Faction Description: N/A
Skills: Varth’s main magic skills focus on the magic school of destruction, illusion, and conjuration. He is also skilled in staying hidden, and using one handed weapons (particularly bladed weapons). Alchemy and Enchanting are also one of his fortes. In addition to these talents, Varth knows how to doctor wounds and cook food.
Appearance: Varth is tall, standing at 6’2’’, with hawk-like features and burning red eyes often associated with his race. His skin is a pale ash color, and he often conceals himself in dark cloaks and robes, making him appear ominous.
Hair: Longish, falls to his eyes, shaggy and dark brown in color.
Eyes: Crimson
Build: Light and wiry
Personality: It is difficult to pinpoint Varth’s personality. He seems very quiet and distant, but he is really just sitting back anolyzing everything that is said or done. He is often paranoid, but once you get him to open up, you have made friend who is loyal and discreet. Varth is very witty and sarcastic, once you get him talking, and can laugh in the face of anything, whether it’s a goblin warrior or Mehnrunes Dagon himself. He is the kind of person, however, who will save his own skin and leave you to die, but Varth is sometimes known to fall to the folly of pride and honor.
Weapons: Varth had an Orcish Longsword before he was captured, as well as several knives, and a few vials of corrosive/combustible alchemical liquids.
Clothing: Varth wore a black cloak and robe, as well as some soft leather boots.
Miscellaneous: A few books, ingredients, food, and some random supplies
Magic: Varth enjoys summoning unique Deadra, as well as using illusion magic to drive his enemies insane, and turning the tide of battle. He is very skilled with destruction magic, having the ability to tear enemies asunder with his spells.
History: Varth grew up in an orphanage with no parents, and at a young age, he decided to venture out into the world. He joined the Tribunal Temple very early on, yearning for spirituality and knowledge. After many years, he raised high into the ranks due to his cunning and intellect, and use of magic. He became a librarian at Vivic’s Hall of Wisdom, and eventually took the place of head scribe, who was in charge of finding books from all over Morrowind, cataloging them, and placing them in the library. In addition to this post, Varthlokkur was often assigned to kill under the name of the Temple due to his natural skills as an assassin. He burned out many ashlander cults, Neravine impersonators, dissident priests, and other civilians.
But, as he got to an even higher rank, Varth discovered the truth behind the Tribunal’s power. He felt betrayed and lied to, and all of the assassinations he performed for the Temple were against innocent citizens. Varth quickly pack up his belongings and fled Morrowind in a rage, but his exit was not as crafty as preferred.
He ended up killing two Temple personnel to escape, stealing a few tomes on necromancy and forbidden magic, and was branded a heretic. Varth ran from the Temple assassins for many years, and in said time, he joined the Thieves Guild and a few mercenary groups. Varth was finally able to stop running when the Neravine completed his quest and killed Dagoth Ur, and the number of assassins who hunted him finally trickled down to only one or two.
Varth continued to move around for many years, joining up with the The Dark Brotherhood until the he met a young Breton woman. The two quickly fell in love and got married, allowing Varth to finally settle down. It didn’t last long, however. She was killed in a raid by the Aldmeri Dominon before the start of the Great War. Varth flew into a rage, and tracked the Thalmor raiding party back to their base, where he killed every single one of them. The Dunmer was not satisfied, and became a terrorist in Thalmor lands.
Varth was captured by the Aldmeri Dominion’s advancing army when he was staying in Bravil.
Motivation for Joining: Hates the Thalmor, wants revenge.
Crimson Paladin - Errialor
Spoiler
Name: Errialor
Race: Altmer
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Sign: The Shadow
Home Country: Valenwood
Faction and Rank: Aldmeri Dominion Army - Recruit
Class: Soldier (former hunter)
Skills: Athletics, One Handed Weapons, Light Armor, Block, Marksman, Sneak, Alchemy
Appearance: He possesses a variety of small scars along his body, most from his pre-army lifestyle. Although he polishes his armor regularly, he rarely shaves or grooms his hair, resulting in a rather unkempt appearance without his helmet.
Hair: Light Brown
Eyes: Brown
Build: Average for an Altmer, Errialor stands 6'4" and possesses the typical build for an Altmer soldier: heavier than an average Altmer, but still lighter than the mannish races.
Personality: Errialor is a rather simple Altmer. He doesn't care for the Thalmor cause, but had little choice but to join to prove his loyalty to the Dominion. As he has no real loyalty to the Thalmor, he has a history of minor insubordinations. He's not very articulate, but he tries to be friendly and cordial to everyone he meets, something which has also gotten him into trouble. Socially, Errialor is not particularly shy, but not particularly outgoing either. He's still not sure what he wants to do with his life, but he plans on leaving the army once his tour of duty ends. Or when he escapes or is rescued.
Weapons: Elven sword and shield, elven bow with 10 arrows. After being captured, his weapons were taken from him.
Clothing: Brown shirt and pants. He used to have full elven armor, but it was discarded when he was taken captive.
Magic: None
History: Errialor was born to a pair of Altmer hunters in Valenwood. Although both of his parents were Altmer, some of his family had mannish blood from the Third Era when Valenwood was part of the Empire. As a result his parents, lost several relatives to Thalmor purges but themselves were judged pure. enough that they could live. They rarely visited the cities, instead selling their wares in smaller settlements. He learned their trade and assisted them into advlthood, but one day, not long after the Great War started, they left on a hunting trip and never returned.
Knowing where they had probably gone, Errialor went searching for them, but was attacked by werevultures and nearly killed. Convinced that the lycanthropes had killed his parents, he informed the local Thalmor of the problem. While they did eliminate the werevultures from the area, it wasn't long before he was approached by a Justiciar. The Thalmor apparently were convinced that his parents had fled to Cyrodiil. The mage gave Errialor an ultimatum: demonstrate his allegiance to the Dominion by joining their army and doing his part in the Great War, or face investigation and possible arrest.
With little choice, Errialor joined the Thalmor army. Not long after his training concluded, he was sent to the front lines in Cyrodiil. When Bravil fell, he was stationed in the city. While there, he looked into the possibility that his parents had fled to Cyrodiil. Part of him hoped that they were alive, and wanted to see them again, another part believed them dead and wanted to prove to the Thalmor that his parents were not traitors. He made inquiries with his officers and questioned citizens, but never found any evidence for his parents being in Cyrodiil. It also resulted in him being repeatedly reprimanded for abandoning his post, fraternizing with locals, and interfering with Justiciar affairs. His superior decided to give him one last chance, guarding a group of prisoners. He knows that if he screws one more time, he'll be joining them.
At Fort Homestead, he was ambushed and subdued by the escaping prisoners and taken into the Imperial City. Now ironically in the same position as those he once watched over, he is not sure what will become of him and what course of action he should take (if any).
Race: Altmer
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Sign: The Shadow
Home Country: Valenwood
Faction and Rank: Aldmeri Dominion Army - Recruit
Class: Soldier (former hunter)
Skills: Athletics, One Handed Weapons, Light Armor, Block, Marksman, Sneak, Alchemy
Appearance: He possesses a variety of small scars along his body, most from his pre-army lifestyle. Although he polishes his armor regularly, he rarely shaves or grooms his hair, resulting in a rather unkempt appearance without his helmet.
Hair: Light Brown
Eyes: Brown
Build: Average for an Altmer, Errialor stands 6'4" and possesses the typical build for an Altmer soldier: heavier than an average Altmer, but still lighter than the mannish races.
Personality: Errialor is a rather simple Altmer. He doesn't care for the Thalmor cause, but had little choice but to join to prove his loyalty to the Dominion. As he has no real loyalty to the Thalmor, he has a history of minor insubordinations. He's not very articulate, but he tries to be friendly and cordial to everyone he meets, something which has also gotten him into trouble. Socially, Errialor is not particularly shy, but not particularly outgoing either. He's still not sure what he wants to do with his life, but he plans on leaving the army once his tour of duty ends. Or when he escapes or is rescued.
Weapons: Elven sword and shield, elven bow with 10 arrows. After being captured, his weapons were taken from him.
Clothing: Brown shirt and pants. He used to have full elven armor, but it was discarded when he was taken captive.
Magic: None
History: Errialor was born to a pair of Altmer hunters in Valenwood. Although both of his parents were Altmer, some of his family had mannish blood from the Third Era when Valenwood was part of the Empire. As a result his parents, lost several relatives to Thalmor purges but themselves were judged pure. enough that they could live. They rarely visited the cities, instead selling their wares in smaller settlements. He learned their trade and assisted them into advlthood, but one day, not long after the Great War started, they left on a hunting trip and never returned.
Knowing where they had probably gone, Errialor went searching for them, but was attacked by werevultures and nearly killed. Convinced that the lycanthropes had killed his parents, he informed the local Thalmor of the problem. While they did eliminate the werevultures from the area, it wasn't long before he was approached by a Justiciar. The Thalmor apparently were convinced that his parents had fled to Cyrodiil. The mage gave Errialor an ultimatum: demonstrate his allegiance to the Dominion by joining their army and doing his part in the Great War, or face investigation and possible arrest.
With little choice, Errialor joined the Thalmor army. Not long after his training concluded, he was sent to the front lines in Cyrodiil. When Bravil fell, he was stationed in the city. While there, he looked into the possibility that his parents had fled to Cyrodiil. Part of him hoped that they were alive, and wanted to see them again, another part believed them dead and wanted to prove to the Thalmor that his parents were not traitors. He made inquiries with his officers and questioned citizens, but never found any evidence for his parents being in Cyrodiil. It also resulted in him being repeatedly reprimanded for abandoning his post, fraternizing with locals, and interfering with Justiciar affairs. His superior decided to give him one last chance, guarding a group of prisoners. He knows that if he screws one more time, he'll be joining them.
At Fort Homestead, he was ambushed and subdued by the escaping prisoners and taken into the Imperial City. Now ironically in the same position as those he once watched over, he is not sure what will become of him and what course of action he should take (if any).
Luminite - Rashaava
Spoiler
Name: Rashaava
Race: Argonian (Male)
Age: 38
Birthsign: The Thief
Major Skills: Alchemy, Sneak, Marksman
Minor Skills: Short Blade, Illusion, Acrobatics, Tracking
Class: Rogue
Class Description: Rashaava's experience with combat does not extend past wild animals and the occasional bandit. Aware of his weaknesses, he prefers to avoid toe-to-toe swordplay in favor of either avoiding combat or keeping his enemies at a distance. While he has become very precise with his bow, most of the effectiveness comes from his considerable skill in brewing potent poisons; in an ideal situation, his target will not know that anything is amiss until they find an arrow in their back, and the poison will finish them off before reaching him. If forced to engage, Rashaava tries to nimbly avoid blows until he is able to escape; to remain in combat would be too dangerous.
General Appearance: Rashaava is of average height, about 5' 10'', with a wiry build due to years of travel and living on what he could hunt. Like many of the true Saxhleel, his pupils are slightly slitted, reinforcing the unfortunate tendency to refer to his people as “lizards.” His scales are a very dark green, with small red patches ranging from the back of his head to his mid-forearms and a lighter green/brown covering the front of his neck. Rashaava bears no prominent horns or other growths on his head, except for very small chin-horns that are characteristic of most Argonians.
Clothing/Armor: Having spent the last few years as a hunter, Rashaava usually wears simple leather armor, with a dark brown hood. Everything bears noticeable signs of continued use: the thick leather used on his gloves bears some small cuts, and the lower portion of his boots seem to have permanent mud stains. With years of use, the armor is comfortable enough to wear in most settings, but if not, Rashaava wears a black tunic, leather belt, and hooded cloak when particularly cold.
Weapons: An Elven dagger, which Rashaava has had for a long time, and a simple hunting bow with a small number of hand-crafted iron arrows.
Miscellaneous Items: A modest amount of gold typical of a hunter, a small waterproof pouch used for holding spare bowstrings and other sensitive items, a bulging apothecary's satchel on his left hip that contains various alchemical ingredients found on his travels as well as a number of small potion vials on the strap, and a pack used to carry personal items and spoils of the hunt.
Biography/History: A native of Black Marsh, Rashaava spent his childhood in the area just south of Thorn, in the northeastern part of the province. His mother had some formal training in the magical arts, and operated a respected alchemy stall in the Thorn market. While he had some innate talent in alchemy, Rashaava struggled with almost all of the magic schools; only with lots of study was he able to cast some adept illusions. However, his mother's natural skill was not inherited, and casting higher-level illusions is very taxing.
Having grown tired of the simple life in Black Marsh, Rashaava left home at the age of 23 in search of adventure. Upon arriving in Morrowind, the decimated post-eruption landscape repulsed him; he was seeking change, but the province was too alien for one used to the lush wetlands of his home. Veering westward, Rashaava came to the Blackwood region, near Leyawiin. He liked the landscape, and decided to hone his skills as a huntsman in the area. In time, he was led to the northwest by some game that he was tracking, and took up residence in Bravil due to the large number of his kinsmen in the town. He lived there for five years before increasing corruption in the city guard forced him to leave for financial reasons. Heading north, Rashaava migrated between self-made camps, local towns, and the Imperial City itself, where he is now, having returned from a typical hunting trip.
Personality: Like many Argonians, Rashaava is generally reserved, and is slow to trust strangers. However, his heritage has instilled a deep understanding of the importance of cooperation and loyalty. He is a perfectionist, perhaps to a fault: his arrows and bow are kept in top condition and he can select and apply a poison with his eyes closed, but he takes far too much time to make simple plans and is unable to cope when something goes wrong. Easily overwhelmed and perhaps a tad bit paranoid, he dislikes large crowds and loud environments; his trips to the Imperial City are almost exclusively to re-supply.
Magic: Illusion is the only school in which Rashaava has studied. He cannot make himself invisible, but he can muffle his footsteps. Beyond that, he is able to impose limited influence on the dispositions of others, but his skill does not exceed simple charms.
Race: Argonian (Male)
Age: 38
Birthsign: The Thief
Major Skills: Alchemy, Sneak, Marksman
Minor Skills: Short Blade, Illusion, Acrobatics, Tracking
Class: Rogue
Class Description: Rashaava's experience with combat does not extend past wild animals and the occasional bandit. Aware of his weaknesses, he prefers to avoid toe-to-toe swordplay in favor of either avoiding combat or keeping his enemies at a distance. While he has become very precise with his bow, most of the effectiveness comes from his considerable skill in brewing potent poisons; in an ideal situation, his target will not know that anything is amiss until they find an arrow in their back, and the poison will finish them off before reaching him. If forced to engage, Rashaava tries to nimbly avoid blows until he is able to escape; to remain in combat would be too dangerous.
General Appearance: Rashaava is of average height, about 5' 10'', with a wiry build due to years of travel and living on what he could hunt. Like many of the true Saxhleel, his pupils are slightly slitted, reinforcing the unfortunate tendency to refer to his people as “lizards.” His scales are a very dark green, with small red patches ranging from the back of his head to his mid-forearms and a lighter green/brown covering the front of his neck. Rashaava bears no prominent horns or other growths on his head, except for very small chin-horns that are characteristic of most Argonians.
Clothing/Armor: Having spent the last few years as a hunter, Rashaava usually wears simple leather armor, with a dark brown hood. Everything bears noticeable signs of continued use: the thick leather used on his gloves bears some small cuts, and the lower portion of his boots seem to have permanent mud stains. With years of use, the armor is comfortable enough to wear in most settings, but if not, Rashaava wears a black tunic, leather belt, and hooded cloak when particularly cold.
Weapons: An Elven dagger, which Rashaava has had for a long time, and a simple hunting bow with a small number of hand-crafted iron arrows.
Miscellaneous Items: A modest amount of gold typical of a hunter, a small waterproof pouch used for holding spare bowstrings and other sensitive items, a bulging apothecary's satchel on his left hip that contains various alchemical ingredients found on his travels as well as a number of small potion vials on the strap, and a pack used to carry personal items and spoils of the hunt.
Biography/History: A native of Black Marsh, Rashaava spent his childhood in the area just south of Thorn, in the northeastern part of the province. His mother had some formal training in the magical arts, and operated a respected alchemy stall in the Thorn market. While he had some innate talent in alchemy, Rashaava struggled with almost all of the magic schools; only with lots of study was he able to cast some adept illusions. However, his mother's natural skill was not inherited, and casting higher-level illusions is very taxing.
Having grown tired of the simple life in Black Marsh, Rashaava left home at the age of 23 in search of adventure. Upon arriving in Morrowind, the decimated post-eruption landscape repulsed him; he was seeking change, but the province was too alien for one used to the lush wetlands of his home. Veering westward, Rashaava came to the Blackwood region, near Leyawiin. He liked the landscape, and decided to hone his skills as a huntsman in the area. In time, he was led to the northwest by some game that he was tracking, and took up residence in Bravil due to the large number of his kinsmen in the town. He lived there for five years before increasing corruption in the city guard forced him to leave for financial reasons. Heading north, Rashaava migrated between self-made camps, local towns, and the Imperial City itself, where he is now, having returned from a typical hunting trip.
Personality: Like many Argonians, Rashaava is generally reserved, and is slow to trust strangers. However, his heritage has instilled a deep understanding of the importance of cooperation and loyalty. He is a perfectionist, perhaps to a fault: his arrows and bow are kept in top condition and he can select and apply a poison with his eyes closed, but he takes far too much time to make simple plans and is unable to cope when something goes wrong. Easily overwhelmed and perhaps a tad bit paranoid, he dislikes large crowds and loud environments; his trips to the Imperial City are almost exclusively to re-supply.
Magic: Illusion is the only school in which Rashaava has studied. He cannot make himself invisible, but he can muffle his footsteps. Beyond that, he is able to impose limited influence on the dispositions of others, but his skill does not exceed simple charms.
Captain Rex - Gorgrim
Spoiler
Name: Gorgrim
Race: Orc
Gender: Male
Age: 43
Sign: Lord
Home Country: High Rock, Orisinium
Faction and Rank: Orisinium Guard (Captain)
Faction Description: The guards that protect the mighty orc stronghold of Orisinium from all dangers that threatens it.
Class: Berserker
Class Description: Warriors equipped in heavy armour wielding massive two-handed weapons, charging into the midst of the enemy. Very tough and don’t pay attention to wounds while in combat. But they can lose control.
Skills: Two-Handed, Heavy Armour, Smithing, Block
Appearance: Big in width as well as height, Gorgrim is a true brute. He is bald with some stubble on his chin. His large yellow eyes are akin to those of a cat, his large teeth jut out of his mouth.
Personality: Gorgrim is good to his friends and likes to sometimes make jokes but in battle he goes into a rage
Weapons: Steel Battle-Axe
Clothing: Steel Plate Armour
Miscellaneous: 40 septims, a figurine of Malacath, and the Code of Malacath book.
History: Gorgrim was born in the orc stronghold of Orisinium, he grew up to become the captain of the stronghold’s guard, and he was the best warrior aside from the chieftain that lived in the stronghold. He never left the stronghold except when going on raids on the behalf of the stronghold. Now though he has been giving a few months to have a break, an odd thing to an orc in his prime. What Gorgrim doesn’t know is that another orc guard wishes to take his place but is too scared to face him. Gorgrim intended to travel to Cyrodiil when on the way he was attacked by elves, he later found out that these elves were known as the Thalmor, the ones who had started to war against the Empire. So now Gorgrim has come to the Imperial City offering himself as a sell-sword.
Motivation for Joining: Wants to make money, and earn honour. He also hates the Thalmor with a passion.
Race: Orc
Gender: Male
Age: 43
Sign: Lord
Home Country: High Rock, Orisinium
Faction and Rank: Orisinium Guard (Captain)
Faction Description: The guards that protect the mighty orc stronghold of Orisinium from all dangers that threatens it.
Class: Berserker
Class Description: Warriors equipped in heavy armour wielding massive two-handed weapons, charging into the midst of the enemy. Very tough and don’t pay attention to wounds while in combat. But they can lose control.
Skills: Two-Handed, Heavy Armour, Smithing, Block
Appearance: Big in width as well as height, Gorgrim is a true brute. He is bald with some stubble on his chin. His large yellow eyes are akin to those of a cat, his large teeth jut out of his mouth.
Personality: Gorgrim is good to his friends and likes to sometimes make jokes but in battle he goes into a rage
Weapons: Steel Battle-Axe
Clothing: Steel Plate Armour
Miscellaneous: 40 septims, a figurine of Malacath, and the Code of Malacath book.
History: Gorgrim was born in the orc stronghold of Orisinium, he grew up to become the captain of the stronghold’s guard, and he was the best warrior aside from the chieftain that lived in the stronghold. He never left the stronghold except when going on raids on the behalf of the stronghold. Now though he has been giving a few months to have a break, an odd thing to an orc in his prime. What Gorgrim doesn’t know is that another orc guard wishes to take his place but is too scared to face him. Gorgrim intended to travel to Cyrodiil when on the way he was attacked by elves, he later found out that these elves were known as the Thalmor, the ones who had started to war against the Empire. So now Gorgrim has come to the Imperial City offering himself as a sell-sword.
Motivation for Joining: Wants to make money, and earn honour. He also hates the Thalmor with a passion.
Elite Birthday - Ra'Kharr
Spoiler
Name: Ra’Kharr
Race: Khajiit
Subspecies: Suthay-Raht
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Birthsign: Steed
Home Country: Elsweyr
Faction: Renrijra Krin [Imperial Sect]
Faction Description: The Renrijia Krin have always been about rejecting the imperial rule of the Emperor and his soldiers, fighting those who dared rule over the home country of Elsweyr. However, when Elsweyr fell to the Aldmeri Dominion, their focus changed, the Renrijra Krin began using guerrilla tactics against the elven overlords. As a result of this, the Renrijra Krin were purged. A hunt bled through the land, killing most every member of the freedom fighters. Those that survived the ordeal were split in a rift. One sect believed that the only hope for the freedom of Eslweyr was to aid the Imperials in their fight against the Thalmor, while the other insisted that the Renrijra Krin should never bend their knee to their ex-overlords. Thus, the group was divided, splitting what little members there were left. The Imperial Sect thus travel to Cyrodiil in search of ways to aid the fight against the Thalmor while the Elsweyr sect continue to fight against the elves in Elsweyr.
Class: Khajiiti Martial Artist
Class Description: Those who have dedicated their lives to studying the many exotic and successful fighting styles of ancient Elsweyr. One must be in a peak physical shape to maintain the arts that he possesses. The Khajiiti Martial Artist is not limited to knowing a single style, and it is not unheard of for there to be a master of all styles.
Skills: Ra’Khar specifically has learned and mastered many types of martial arts, comprised of “tail and claw”, within his lifetime. This had earned him the name “Do” as well as the reputation that preceded him. Ra’Khar has expertise in such styles as Goutfang and Rawlith Khaj, knowing all but extremely proficient in the Rain, Wind, and Storm branches of the art. Ra’Khar is currently a student of Whispering Fang, and is not yet proficient in it. He is also a practitioner of Kriijin Kaw, a defensive fighting style used for deflecting blades with the palm; Steelfang, a shortsword & buckler fighting style; and Baskir Tail, a spear & buckler fighting style. Do’Khar is also very physically fit, as well as extremely fast given his birthsign.
Appearance: Ra’Kharr stands at about 5’11, weighing about 152 lbs. The most recognizable trait on Ra’Kharr is his jet black fur. This makes him nearly invisible in the night. He has a completely shaved head, meaning that he has no sort of mane while still having fur, and two large ears that stick out almost straight out of his head. The large triangles are slightly tufted. Ra’Kharr has stark yellow eyes with thin, black pupils. This makes him resemble something of a panther. His nose is also completely black, and his whiskers are cut close and nearly clear. He has large biceps and large pectoral muscles. He has broad shoulders, giving him a strong build for his size. He also has very large legs, with striking calf muscles, giving him his speed. His tail is about three feet long, covered in black fur.
He usually wears tan robes which have no sleeves and are have a deep “V” for the chest. The robe is short, coming halfway down his thighs. The robe is usually tied with a thin rope. Under that, he wears a white-loincloth like underwear. He wears no shoes. He wears a golden necklace with a chain that comes down to where his robe’s “V” comes down. It also holds an emblem of the Renrijra Krin, a circle with a cat-eye within it.
Weapons/Items: Ra’Kharr carries a single spear with an oaken wooden staff and a steel, triangular tip. He then carries a slightly curved short-sword made of iron. It has a steel hilt with the Renrijra Krin emblem on the pommel. His buckler is about one foot in diameter and is wooden. The center is a four inch steel disc. Ra’Kharr then has steel-plated gloves. He also carries few septims, moonsugar, and some bottles of ink. He also carries a lute with him.
Personality: Ra’Kharr is a visionary and philosopher. He believes in a free Elsweyr, ruled by the Mane and only the Mane. He will do whatever it takes to get this accomplished. He is feircly loyal to his country and to his race and organization. His loyalty to his friends and organization supersedes that of any other loyalty. He will lay down his life to keep them alive. He will also be incited to fight at the slightest negative comment towards any of the above. Ra’Kharr is brilliant, to say the least, and has many ideas about everything. He is a passionate, young Khajiit, who tends to argue with a loud voice and visionary ideas. He usually the life of the party. He is somewhat arrogant because of the stature he once had in the Renrijra Krin. He still, to this day, believes he is the only hope for the Renrijra Krin to remain.
He has an affinity for music and fighting. He loves women of all races, except for those of the Corrupted Elves, he does not see beauty in them. He sometimes indulges himself in Moon sugar before he goes to sleep. He favors the jungles that remind him of home, and of small agricultural villages. He does not really have much taste for the big city, especially that of gawking merchants and calling people. He reserves a special place in his heart for anyone that fights against authority and for what they believe in. If it is in direct harm of his clansfolk or friends, however, it will cause him to fight.
History: Ma’Kharr was born to an artisan mother and a Moon sugar farmer in a small, agricultural village just west of the large city of Corinthe. Ma’Kharr had four older brothers, one older sister, a younger brother, and three little sisters. During the early part of Ma’Kharr’s life, he used his imagination to play with his siblings who were not yet old enough to work in the fields. However, when he became of age, he began to go out into the fields and work for his family: harvesting and planting Moon sugar. He became physically fit rather quickly, as toiling in the fields wasn’t easy work. He would travel to the city on weekends with his father and family to sell the Moon sugar that they had harvested and the pottery that his mother would create. He would listen to the music in the streets of Corinthe and was inspired to be a musician. He bought a lute with money that he had saved up, and began to practice. At the age of seven, a Cathay-raht came by and crushed his lute while he was practicing in the streets of Corinthe. Being smaller, Ma’Kharr could do nothing but be bullied by the Cathay-raht.
Back in his village, he consulted whom his father called “a wise and powerful Khajiit”. The Khajiit was named Do’Tskaa, a master of Goutfang and Rawlith Khaj. Ma’Kharr approached the Khajiit with his problem. Do’Tskaa agreed to train him if he gave up his life of a farmer and focused everything on becoming a martial artist. Approaching his father with the idea, the Moon sugar farmer declined the opportunity, needing the pair of hands in the fields. Ma’Kharr continued to work in the fields as was his father’s wish, and going to the city on weekends. It was one weekend when the same Cathay-raht had a group of friends crushed yet another lute and beat Ma’Kharr to a pulp. His father, seeing this, hesitantly agreed to allow him to train under Do’Tskaa. Leaving a life of music and agriculture, Ma’Khar entered the dojo of Do’Tskaa. For years, Ma’Kharr underwent extremely difficult training, tempting the Khajiit to quit many times. The life of a farmer was a breeze compared to that of a martial artist. The master saw the loss of motivation in his student, and to encourage him, took him to Corinthe. Ma’Khar took the day off to listen to the street music and purchase yet another Lute. It had been a while since his claws had touched the tout strings, but the music came naturally to him. Thinking of leaving the life of a martial artist becoming a musician, he played solemnly on the street. Do’Tskaa kept an eye on him as a very familiar Cathay-raht approached the somewhat-bulkier-than-he-remembered Suthay-raht and pushed him. Just like old times.
Ma’Kharr lept into action; years of training making him into an automated machine. Ma’Kharr began to rain blows upon the Cathay-raht, using Goutfang, the only style that he had been training at the time. Using a rhythmic pattern, he easily parried the Suthay-raht’s barbaric attacks, rendering the larger Khajiit unconscious within four seconds. Astonished by his own power, Ma’Kharr came back to Do’Tskaa, motivated and ready to learn. By age 15, Ma’Kharr graduated as a master of Goutfang. He thus received the name Do’Kharr and was thought a martial prodigy throughout the Khajiit community. He visited his family for the first time in many years on the day he graduated. His father and family was extremely proud, which would only drive Do’Kharr to work even harder. At the age of 16, while Do’Tskaa was training Do’Kharr in the first sects of Rawlith Khaj, the Thalmor raided the house. The Altmer used their power of magic to overwhelm the older master, killing him. Upon witnessing this, Do’Kharr quickly leaped from the shadows, redirecting their hands so that they could not target him with techniques. A tornado of fur and claw, the Thalmor agents were quickly disposed of. Do’Kharr buried the body and fled, knowing that more would appear after the disappearance of the two agents. Do’Kharr, after a week of running, was caught by a group of Khajiits that called themselves the Renrijra Krin. They informed him that his former master, Do’Tskaa, was an ex-member of their organization, and that Do’Kharr should honor his master by fighting “the good fight”. Do’Kharr, confused and scared, accepted, joining the family. The family, at the time, was a whole sect. They were, for the most part, untouched by the Thalmor. Do’Tskaa began to listen to the most intelligent people he would ever meet. Visionaries and philosophers, the Renrijra Krin was more of a family than his old one ever was. The group helped him finish his mastery of Rawlith Khaj, as well as a handful of other fighting styles, while Do’Tskaa instructed other members in the way of Goutfang. Do’Tskarr quickly took up the Lute again, impressing the group with his natural ability.
However, as time progressed, the family began to shrink. Members would show up dead in their homes, ambushed by Thalmor agents. As more and more of Do’Tskaa’s family began to diminish, he demanded that the group began to rise up and fight the Thalmor openly. Other members were uneasy at this, fearing immediate death. They reassured Do’Tskaa that they needed to continue to use guerilla tactics and terrorist methods to keep the Thalmor at bay. Do’Tskaa began to assert that it would only make the Thalmor angrier, causing more deaths in the family. He had convinced many to join his argument, while annoying the older members. This is what eventually caused the rift of the Renrijra Krin, Do’Tskaa’s idea to rise up and fight the Thalmor openly. Many joined his cause, while many stayed behind. Those that followed him adorned him with the name of Ra’Tskaa, which was the most honorable thing that Ra’Tskaa had ever experienced in his life.
Ra’Tskaa’s cause, however, was that of great ruin. Fighting the Thalmor openly was a great idea at first. They were able to drive away small units of Thalmor agents from the southern jungle villages. But larger Thalmor battle-units began to counter-attack, easily killing those whom he called his friends. Ra’Tskaa, appalled and ashamed, ran, embracing the ways of old. Those who still followed him, those who had not deserted his cause in fear and reason, also went into hiding. They talked. They came up with the idea that the only way that they were going to win this war was the support the Thalmor’s greatest enemy, the Empire. Though it caused bile to rise in Ra’Tskaa’s throat, he knew it was the only way. He and his few comrades began to train for their journey to the Imperial City, the last bastion. However, their training was interrupted by reports that the members of the Renrijra Krin that had stuck to the old ways were being massacred without mercy. Ra’Tskaa decided that the time was now: they had to move north. They began their journey through foreign deserts and enemy-infested highlands. Ra’Tskaa lost friends to disease and dysentery along the way, and came close to death himself with a terrible fever, but his drive kept him along, and the fever eventually broke.
Arriving in the Imperial City, he was followed by great Thalmor armies. Ra’Tskaa, eager to find who was in charge of the resistance, began to scour the city with the few friends he had left…
…
Companions: Do’Rakha (Suthay, 21): A master of Goutfang and Whispering Claw, Jo’Rakha is probably the most loyal of all of Ra’Kharr’s followers. He is just as passionate as his master and friend, but will believe whatever Ra’Kharr says and will lay down his life for his master at the drop of a pen.
Dro’Ba (Cathay-raht, 15): A young visionary and musician, this quiet Khajiit is currently training under Ra’Kharr. Jack of all trades and master of none, he can perform every style that Ra’Kharr can, just not to the same ability. Dro’Ba is also a poet and harp-player.
Jo’Rakha (Alfiq, 29): A quadraqedal, cat-like Khajiit, Jo’Rakha has a natural affinity for magic. Able to communicate through telepathic means, Jo’Rakha is a brilliant tactician and idealist. He is fiercely loyal to Ra’Kharr.
Dar’Dato (Dagi, 20): Being a Dagi, Dar’Dato is extremely light weight and not much in the battle. A master of long-range fighting, Dar’Dato is proficient with any and all throwing weapons. He is quiet and is probably the most intelligent of all within Ra’Kharr’s party.
Dro'Ba & Dro'Baad (Suthey-raht, 21): Twin Khajiits that died of disease on the journey to the IC.
Raksadarg (Cathay-raht, 30): Ambushed and burnt alive with Thalmor magic on the journey to the IC.
Race: Khajiit
Subspecies: Suthay-Raht
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Birthsign: Steed
Home Country: Elsweyr
Faction: Renrijra Krin [Imperial Sect]
Faction Description: The Renrijia Krin have always been about rejecting the imperial rule of the Emperor and his soldiers, fighting those who dared rule over the home country of Elsweyr. However, when Elsweyr fell to the Aldmeri Dominion, their focus changed, the Renrijra Krin began using guerrilla tactics against the elven overlords. As a result of this, the Renrijra Krin were purged. A hunt bled through the land, killing most every member of the freedom fighters. Those that survived the ordeal were split in a rift. One sect believed that the only hope for the freedom of Eslweyr was to aid the Imperials in their fight against the Thalmor, while the other insisted that the Renrijra Krin should never bend their knee to their ex-overlords. Thus, the group was divided, splitting what little members there were left. The Imperial Sect thus travel to Cyrodiil in search of ways to aid the fight against the Thalmor while the Elsweyr sect continue to fight against the elves in Elsweyr.
Class: Khajiiti Martial Artist
Class Description: Those who have dedicated their lives to studying the many exotic and successful fighting styles of ancient Elsweyr. One must be in a peak physical shape to maintain the arts that he possesses. The Khajiiti Martial Artist is not limited to knowing a single style, and it is not unheard of for there to be a master of all styles.
Skills: Ra’Khar specifically has learned and mastered many types of martial arts, comprised of “tail and claw”, within his lifetime. This had earned him the name “Do” as well as the reputation that preceded him. Ra’Khar has expertise in such styles as Goutfang and Rawlith Khaj, knowing all but extremely proficient in the Rain, Wind, and Storm branches of the art. Ra’Khar is currently a student of Whispering Fang, and is not yet proficient in it. He is also a practitioner of Kriijin Kaw, a defensive fighting style used for deflecting blades with the palm; Steelfang, a shortsword & buckler fighting style; and Baskir Tail, a spear & buckler fighting style. Do’Khar is also very physically fit, as well as extremely fast given his birthsign.
Appearance: Ra’Kharr stands at about 5’11, weighing about 152 lbs. The most recognizable trait on Ra’Kharr is his jet black fur. This makes him nearly invisible in the night. He has a completely shaved head, meaning that he has no sort of mane while still having fur, and two large ears that stick out almost straight out of his head. The large triangles are slightly tufted. Ra’Kharr has stark yellow eyes with thin, black pupils. This makes him resemble something of a panther. His nose is also completely black, and his whiskers are cut close and nearly clear. He has large biceps and large pectoral muscles. He has broad shoulders, giving him a strong build for his size. He also has very large legs, with striking calf muscles, giving him his speed. His tail is about three feet long, covered in black fur.
He usually wears tan robes which have no sleeves and are have a deep “V” for the chest. The robe is short, coming halfway down his thighs. The robe is usually tied with a thin rope. Under that, he wears a white-loincloth like underwear. He wears no shoes. He wears a golden necklace with a chain that comes down to where his robe’s “V” comes down. It also holds an emblem of the Renrijra Krin, a circle with a cat-eye within it.
Weapons/Items: Ra’Kharr carries a single spear with an oaken wooden staff and a steel, triangular tip. He then carries a slightly curved short-sword made of iron. It has a steel hilt with the Renrijra Krin emblem on the pommel. His buckler is about one foot in diameter and is wooden. The center is a four inch steel disc. Ra’Kharr then has steel-plated gloves. He also carries few septims, moonsugar, and some bottles of ink. He also carries a lute with him.
Personality: Ra’Kharr is a visionary and philosopher. He believes in a free Elsweyr, ruled by the Mane and only the Mane. He will do whatever it takes to get this accomplished. He is feircly loyal to his country and to his race and organization. His loyalty to his friends and organization supersedes that of any other loyalty. He will lay down his life to keep them alive. He will also be incited to fight at the slightest negative comment towards any of the above. Ra’Kharr is brilliant, to say the least, and has many ideas about everything. He is a passionate, young Khajiit, who tends to argue with a loud voice and visionary ideas. He usually the life of the party. He is somewhat arrogant because of the stature he once had in the Renrijra Krin. He still, to this day, believes he is the only hope for the Renrijra Krin to remain.
He has an affinity for music and fighting. He loves women of all races, except for those of the Corrupted Elves, he does not see beauty in them. He sometimes indulges himself in Moon sugar before he goes to sleep. He favors the jungles that remind him of home, and of small agricultural villages. He does not really have much taste for the big city, especially that of gawking merchants and calling people. He reserves a special place in his heart for anyone that fights against authority and for what they believe in. If it is in direct harm of his clansfolk or friends, however, it will cause him to fight.
History: Ma’Kharr was born to an artisan mother and a Moon sugar farmer in a small, agricultural village just west of the large city of Corinthe. Ma’Kharr had four older brothers, one older sister, a younger brother, and three little sisters. During the early part of Ma’Kharr’s life, he used his imagination to play with his siblings who were not yet old enough to work in the fields. However, when he became of age, he began to go out into the fields and work for his family: harvesting and planting Moon sugar. He became physically fit rather quickly, as toiling in the fields wasn’t easy work. He would travel to the city on weekends with his father and family to sell the Moon sugar that they had harvested and the pottery that his mother would create. He would listen to the music in the streets of Corinthe and was inspired to be a musician. He bought a lute with money that he had saved up, and began to practice. At the age of seven, a Cathay-raht came by and crushed his lute while he was practicing in the streets of Corinthe. Being smaller, Ma’Kharr could do nothing but be bullied by the Cathay-raht.
Back in his village, he consulted whom his father called “a wise and powerful Khajiit”. The Khajiit was named Do’Tskaa, a master of Goutfang and Rawlith Khaj. Ma’Kharr approached the Khajiit with his problem. Do’Tskaa agreed to train him if he gave up his life of a farmer and focused everything on becoming a martial artist. Approaching his father with the idea, the Moon sugar farmer declined the opportunity, needing the pair of hands in the fields. Ma’Kharr continued to work in the fields as was his father’s wish, and going to the city on weekends. It was one weekend when the same Cathay-raht had a group of friends crushed yet another lute and beat Ma’Kharr to a pulp. His father, seeing this, hesitantly agreed to allow him to train under Do’Tskaa. Leaving a life of music and agriculture, Ma’Khar entered the dojo of Do’Tskaa. For years, Ma’Kharr underwent extremely difficult training, tempting the Khajiit to quit many times. The life of a farmer was a breeze compared to that of a martial artist. The master saw the loss of motivation in his student, and to encourage him, took him to Corinthe. Ma’Khar took the day off to listen to the street music and purchase yet another Lute. It had been a while since his claws had touched the tout strings, but the music came naturally to him. Thinking of leaving the life of a martial artist becoming a musician, he played solemnly on the street. Do’Tskaa kept an eye on him as a very familiar Cathay-raht approached the somewhat-bulkier-than-he-remembered Suthay-raht and pushed him. Just like old times.
Ma’Kharr lept into action; years of training making him into an automated machine. Ma’Kharr began to rain blows upon the Cathay-raht, using Goutfang, the only style that he had been training at the time. Using a rhythmic pattern, he easily parried the Suthay-raht’s barbaric attacks, rendering the larger Khajiit unconscious within four seconds. Astonished by his own power, Ma’Kharr came back to Do’Tskaa, motivated and ready to learn. By age 15, Ma’Kharr graduated as a master of Goutfang. He thus received the name Do’Kharr and was thought a martial prodigy throughout the Khajiit community. He visited his family for the first time in many years on the day he graduated. His father and family was extremely proud, which would only drive Do’Kharr to work even harder. At the age of 16, while Do’Tskaa was training Do’Kharr in the first sects of Rawlith Khaj, the Thalmor raided the house. The Altmer used their power of magic to overwhelm the older master, killing him. Upon witnessing this, Do’Kharr quickly leaped from the shadows, redirecting their hands so that they could not target him with techniques. A tornado of fur and claw, the Thalmor agents were quickly disposed of. Do’Kharr buried the body and fled, knowing that more would appear after the disappearance of the two agents. Do’Kharr, after a week of running, was caught by a group of Khajiits that called themselves the Renrijra Krin. They informed him that his former master, Do’Tskaa, was an ex-member of their organization, and that Do’Kharr should honor his master by fighting “the good fight”. Do’Kharr, confused and scared, accepted, joining the family. The family, at the time, was a whole sect. They were, for the most part, untouched by the Thalmor. Do’Tskaa began to listen to the most intelligent people he would ever meet. Visionaries and philosophers, the Renrijra Krin was more of a family than his old one ever was. The group helped him finish his mastery of Rawlith Khaj, as well as a handful of other fighting styles, while Do’Tskaa instructed other members in the way of Goutfang. Do’Tskarr quickly took up the Lute again, impressing the group with his natural ability.
However, as time progressed, the family began to shrink. Members would show up dead in their homes, ambushed by Thalmor agents. As more and more of Do’Tskaa’s family began to diminish, he demanded that the group began to rise up and fight the Thalmor openly. Other members were uneasy at this, fearing immediate death. They reassured Do’Tskaa that they needed to continue to use guerilla tactics and terrorist methods to keep the Thalmor at bay. Do’Tskaa began to assert that it would only make the Thalmor angrier, causing more deaths in the family. He had convinced many to join his argument, while annoying the older members. This is what eventually caused the rift of the Renrijra Krin, Do’Tskaa’s idea to rise up and fight the Thalmor openly. Many joined his cause, while many stayed behind. Those that followed him adorned him with the name of Ra’Tskaa, which was the most honorable thing that Ra’Tskaa had ever experienced in his life.
Ra’Tskaa’s cause, however, was that of great ruin. Fighting the Thalmor openly was a great idea at first. They were able to drive away small units of Thalmor agents from the southern jungle villages. But larger Thalmor battle-units began to counter-attack, easily killing those whom he called his friends. Ra’Tskaa, appalled and ashamed, ran, embracing the ways of old. Those who still followed him, those who had not deserted his cause in fear and reason, also went into hiding. They talked. They came up with the idea that the only way that they were going to win this war was the support the Thalmor’s greatest enemy, the Empire. Though it caused bile to rise in Ra’Tskaa’s throat, he knew it was the only way. He and his few comrades began to train for their journey to the Imperial City, the last bastion. However, their training was interrupted by reports that the members of the Renrijra Krin that had stuck to the old ways were being massacred without mercy. Ra’Tskaa decided that the time was now: they had to move north. They began their journey through foreign deserts and enemy-infested highlands. Ra’Tskaa lost friends to disease and dysentery along the way, and came close to death himself with a terrible fever, but his drive kept him along, and the fever eventually broke.
Arriving in the Imperial City, he was followed by great Thalmor armies. Ra’Tskaa, eager to find who was in charge of the resistance, began to scour the city with the few friends he had left…
…
Companions: Do’Rakha (Suthay, 21): A master of Goutfang and Whispering Claw, Jo’Rakha is probably the most loyal of all of Ra’Kharr’s followers. He is just as passionate as his master and friend, but will believe whatever Ra’Kharr says and will lay down his life for his master at the drop of a pen.
Dro’Ba (Cathay-raht, 15): A young visionary and musician, this quiet Khajiit is currently training under Ra’Kharr. Jack of all trades and master of none, he can perform every style that Ra’Kharr can, just not to the same ability. Dro’Ba is also a poet and harp-player.
Jo’Rakha (Alfiq, 29): A quadraqedal, cat-like Khajiit, Jo’Rakha has a natural affinity for magic. Able to communicate through telepathic means, Jo’Rakha is a brilliant tactician and idealist. He is fiercely loyal to Ra’Kharr.
Dar’Dato (Dagi, 20): Being a Dagi, Dar’Dato is extremely light weight and not much in the battle. A master of long-range fighting, Dar’Dato is proficient with any and all throwing weapons. He is quiet and is probably the most intelligent of all within Ra’Kharr’s party.
Dro'Ba & Dro'Baad (Suthey-raht, 21): Twin Khajiits that died of disease on the journey to the IC.
Raksadarg (Cathay-raht, 30): Ambushed and burnt alive with Thalmor magic on the journey to the IC.
TheIrishMidget - Waylas
Spoiler
Name: Waylas
Age: 36
Race: Redguard
Sign: The Thief
Class: Pirate
Skills: Swords, Sneak, Acrobatic, Pickpocket, Unarmored, Hand to Hand
Attributes: Agility, Luck
Clothing: Waylus wears a simple green button up shirt with a collar, along with coarse linen pants with a belt wrapped around his waist, and a pair of leather boots on his feet.
Weapons: A long Steel Sword holstered around his waist.
Description: Waylas is moderatley built and stands at around 5' 8''. He is dark skinned and has black wirey hair that is done in a series of ridge rows, along with brown eyes and a slight goatee. He has a more mature apperance that's fit for being 36.
Personality: Waylas takes his upbringing from his rough upbringing in the streets of Stros M'kai. He only trusts himself and no one else. His alliance with other people is purely for business and monetary gain. He enjoys taking part in the pleasures of life such as drinking and gambling. He doesn't mind getting his hands dirty in order to accomplish his goals. Regardless he willing to stick to his word and wouldn't betray anyone who didn't already have it coming to them.
Biography:
Waylas was born on the tropic island city of Stros M'kai. He became orphaned at a young age after his mother died of illness and was forced to turn to a life of petty street crime and thievery just to survive, as well being an errand boy for Stros M'kai's local criminal syndicates. As Waylas began to age he began to develop skills such as picking people's pockets, sneaking around to steal a loaf of bread, and fist fighting kids who looked at him funny.
When he turned 17 he joined up with a local pirate crew, and thus began his career as a pirate of the Abecean sea. He spent time aboard the ship helping to smuggle illegal drugs such as Skooma and Moon Sugar across the empire. The pirate crew made quite a name for itself, but Waylas was unsatisfied with captains effectivness to lead, and felt he was too soft and cautious.
After a while Waylas and a few other crew members held a mutiny to overthrow their captain. Having successfully overthrown their captain Waylas declared himself the new captain of the pirate crew. Taking the reins of the pirate, Waylas became much more agressive and risky than his predecessor, and was able to greatly excel the capabilities of his pirate crew. Soon he led one of the largest and most feared pirate crews in all the Abecean sea.
Unfortunatley the Imperial Navy had become increasingly vigiliant on bringing an end to piracy in the Abcean sea. After a short drug bust on Waylas setup during a sting operation in Anvil by the Imperial Watch, Waylas was arrested and taken to prison. Shortley after his arrest Waylas was broken out by his pirate crew and they made their run for the coast. There they boarded their ship with the rest of Waylas's crew and began to make their escape in open waters. The Imperial Navy soon followed Waylas and his crew and they surrouned them out in the middle of the sea. Trapped the Imperial Navy opened fire on Waylas and his crew, killing many of his crew members and setting Waylas himself adrift. Waylas later found himself alive on open shore, along with a large group of Imperial watchmen wating to arrest him.
Waylas was eventually tooken into custody and set to stand trial. The Imperial court sentenced Waylas to life in prison, and Waylas was placed in one of their most secure and maximum security prisons. The next two years Waylas would spend time rotting away inside an Imperial prison only to escape on the off chance that the Thalmore would secretly insight a prison riot to overthrow the Imperial Watchmen stationed there. Narrowling escaping the Thalmore's slaughter of the inmates after overthrowing the prison's guardsmen Waylas began to make run for the Elsweyr boarder, only to be captured by the advancing Aldmeri army as they began their invasion of Cyrodil. Once again Waylas would spend the next few months as a prisoner of the Thalmore.
Age: 36
Race: Redguard
Sign: The Thief
Class: Pirate
Skills: Swords, Sneak, Acrobatic, Pickpocket, Unarmored, Hand to Hand
Attributes: Agility, Luck
Clothing: Waylus wears a simple green button up shirt with a collar, along with coarse linen pants with a belt wrapped around his waist, and a pair of leather boots on his feet.
Weapons: A long Steel Sword holstered around his waist.
Description: Waylas is moderatley built and stands at around 5' 8''. He is dark skinned and has black wirey hair that is done in a series of ridge rows, along with brown eyes and a slight goatee. He has a more mature apperance that's fit for being 36.
Personality: Waylas takes his upbringing from his rough upbringing in the streets of Stros M'kai. He only trusts himself and no one else. His alliance with other people is purely for business and monetary gain. He enjoys taking part in the pleasures of life such as drinking and gambling. He doesn't mind getting his hands dirty in order to accomplish his goals. Regardless he willing to stick to his word and wouldn't betray anyone who didn't already have it coming to them.
Biography:
Waylas was born on the tropic island city of Stros M'kai. He became orphaned at a young age after his mother died of illness and was forced to turn to a life of petty street crime and thievery just to survive, as well being an errand boy for Stros M'kai's local criminal syndicates. As Waylas began to age he began to develop skills such as picking people's pockets, sneaking around to steal a loaf of bread, and fist fighting kids who looked at him funny.
When he turned 17 he joined up with a local pirate crew, and thus began his career as a pirate of the Abecean sea. He spent time aboard the ship helping to smuggle illegal drugs such as Skooma and Moon Sugar across the empire. The pirate crew made quite a name for itself, but Waylas was unsatisfied with captains effectivness to lead, and felt he was too soft and cautious.
After a while Waylas and a few other crew members held a mutiny to overthrow their captain. Having successfully overthrown their captain Waylas declared himself the new captain of the pirate crew. Taking the reins of the pirate, Waylas became much more agressive and risky than his predecessor, and was able to greatly excel the capabilities of his pirate crew. Soon he led one of the largest and most feared pirate crews in all the Abecean sea.
Unfortunatley the Imperial Navy had become increasingly vigiliant on bringing an end to piracy in the Abcean sea. After a short drug bust on Waylas setup during a sting operation in Anvil by the Imperial Watch, Waylas was arrested and taken to prison. Shortley after his arrest Waylas was broken out by his pirate crew and they made their run for the coast. There they boarded their ship with the rest of Waylas's crew and began to make their escape in open waters. The Imperial Navy soon followed Waylas and his crew and they surrouned them out in the middle of the sea. Trapped the Imperial Navy opened fire on Waylas and his crew, killing many of his crew members and setting Waylas himself adrift. Waylas later found himself alive on open shore, along with a large group of Imperial watchmen wating to arrest him.
Waylas was eventually tooken into custody and set to stand trial. The Imperial court sentenced Waylas to life in prison, and Waylas was placed in one of their most secure and maximum security prisons. The next two years Waylas would spend time rotting away inside an Imperial prison only to escape on the off chance that the Thalmore would secretly insight a prison riot to overthrow the Imperial Watchmen stationed there. Narrowling escaping the Thalmore's slaughter of the inmates after overthrowing the prison's guardsmen Waylas began to make run for the Elsweyr boarder, only to be captured by the advancing Aldmeri army as they began their invasion of Cyrodil. Once again Waylas would spend the next few months as a prisoner of the Thalmore.
Arathorn - Kai
Spoiler
Name: Kai Xerosa
Gender: Male
Age: 23
Race: Imperial
Birthsign: Steed
General Appearance: Despite his rough and ready appearance Kai maintains a very masculine attractiveness about him. His scruffy face is often covered in a varying amount of wounds, dry blood and dirt. His nose is broken in several places and scars are scattered across his olive coloured skin. His eyes are light blue colour and his hair a jet black. Slicked back and kept clear of his face. Rarely clean shaven, the lower half of Kai’s face is often shrouded in a shadow of stubble, with sideburns connecting his thin beard to his thick hair. Kai isn’t exactly tall standing at only 5’10, though he is extremely well-built with an athletic and toned body achieved through years of combat training and experience. Kai has very few noticeable scars as his skin tends to heal very well, however it is rare to see Kai without some form of scar or wound at any given time.
Skills: Kai is a master of combat, in particular his speed, stamina, agility and sheer aggression give him the upper hand in most fights. It is not unknown for Kai to lose a fight although this is usually down to extreme fatigue or unconsciousness, as his incredible resilience and refusal to back down keep him fighting even when he is on his last limb. Kai tends to steer clear of using weapons and allows his body to do most of the work, after years of working in the field of martial arts; he is somewhat an expert and can even face those who are armed on equal ground. When it comes to magical ability Kai is powerless, he has no idea how to begin to use the arcane arts and instead turns a blind eye to its practise. Kai is very agile and his acrobatic ability allows him to manoeuvre himself extremely well, both in and out of combat. Years of martial arts training have made him extremely flexible and as a result Kai is an able gymnast. Despite his combat prowess, in warfare Kai is not as skilled as an average soldier. One-on-one combat is very different to tactical warfare, and Kai’s inability to take orders from anyone makes it harder for him to work in a team and perform as part of a unit.
Apparel: Kai takes little pride in his appearance and tends to wear whatever he can find that morning, never sticking to a favourite outfit or using different clothes for specific events. Usually this results in some sort of linen shirt and leather pants, although this can vary depending on what part of the world he resides in at the time. Due to his excessive travelling Kai tends to prefer comfort over protection and even when fighting will never wear any heavy armour, such as steel or iron. He finds these too restrictive and prefers lighter armours such as leather or in some colder parts of the world fur. Kai is often to be found engaging in combat in normal linen or cloth clothes, as this allows him to utilise his speed and agility more so than any other apparel.
Weapons: “Weapons are for the weak.” Kai rarely uses weapons when it comes to combat. Though he has been known to use a bow and the occasional short sword or dagger the only weapon he carries with him is a small knife, which even still is mainly used for hunting and skinning his dinners. Kai uses his body as his weapon, his fists are scarred and his knuckles bruised. Kai is capable, through years of training to throw a fierce punch and is also known to use a variety of kicks and blocks which allow him to combat with the most experienced of opponents.
Personality: “Scars themselves are the lessons of life, left permanently on your mind, body and soul; you have never truly won a fight if the enemy cannot do as much as to lay a finger on your flesh.”
Headstrong and extremely over-confident, Kai is not invincible, something he believes himself to be. Kai revels in his aggressive nature, actively seeking out trouble and violence to show off his skill and humiliate his enemies. Rude and arrogant, Kai has very few friends and many enemies, Kai knows that he is a loner but he doesn’t seem to mind and instead takes unusual pleasure from his own company. Behind his mindless and scruffy exterior hides a brutal, impulsive, and savage killer with an excessively-violent lust for blood. Kai knows exactly what he is doing by causing trouble and does it often simply for kicks. He makes no effort to hide his personality and it doesn’t take much to recognise that Kai is impulsive and ruthless. In battle Kai has an inhumane lust for blood; aggressive and determined many people would rather avoid any conflict with such a character. Kai is also extremely resilient and is barely ever seen to back down even in cases where he has been vastly overcome. Kai revels in the challenge of combat, enjoying being backed into a corner and having to fight his way out. Despite his violent and psychotic nature, Kai is not inherently evil. Deep down it is probable that Kai does have a conscience, shown partially through the fact that he will rarely attack or engage in combat with those who are weaker than him, be it women or children. Though he personally considers this to be down to the fact that they are unworthy of his effort – this could be a cover up for some sentient considerations.
Background: Kai has his roots in Bravil, it was where he was born and raised by his single mother. A skooma addict who had little income and rarely enough time to give Kai the attention or care that he properly needed. This goes some way to explain his erratic behaviour and his aggresive individualism. His childhood was spent mostly in the underground world of Bravil, mixing and involving himself with those in crime and violence. Kai fought in what was an illegal gambling arena sticking mainly to boxing and fights without rules. Here the richer members of the city would place money on fights that were both extremely bloody and often resulted in death. When the Thalmor armies first invaded, Kai decided to move away from Bravil, spending some time on the road before heading onto the Imperial City, where he continued his now practised line of work, for much greater money - although at a greater risk. Kai Xerosa, in the underworld of the Imperial City is fast becoming a renowned name, and his reputation is ever increasing.
Gender: Male
Age: 23
Race: Imperial
Birthsign: Steed
General Appearance: Despite his rough and ready appearance Kai maintains a very masculine attractiveness about him. His scruffy face is often covered in a varying amount of wounds, dry blood and dirt. His nose is broken in several places and scars are scattered across his olive coloured skin. His eyes are light blue colour and his hair a jet black. Slicked back and kept clear of his face. Rarely clean shaven, the lower half of Kai’s face is often shrouded in a shadow of stubble, with sideburns connecting his thin beard to his thick hair. Kai isn’t exactly tall standing at only 5’10, though he is extremely well-built with an athletic and toned body achieved through years of combat training and experience. Kai has very few noticeable scars as his skin tends to heal very well, however it is rare to see Kai without some form of scar or wound at any given time.
Skills: Kai is a master of combat, in particular his speed, stamina, agility and sheer aggression give him the upper hand in most fights. It is not unknown for Kai to lose a fight although this is usually down to extreme fatigue or unconsciousness, as his incredible resilience and refusal to back down keep him fighting even when he is on his last limb. Kai tends to steer clear of using weapons and allows his body to do most of the work, after years of working in the field of martial arts; he is somewhat an expert and can even face those who are armed on equal ground. When it comes to magical ability Kai is powerless, he has no idea how to begin to use the arcane arts and instead turns a blind eye to its practise. Kai is very agile and his acrobatic ability allows him to manoeuvre himself extremely well, both in and out of combat. Years of martial arts training have made him extremely flexible and as a result Kai is an able gymnast. Despite his combat prowess, in warfare Kai is not as skilled as an average soldier. One-on-one combat is very different to tactical warfare, and Kai’s inability to take orders from anyone makes it harder for him to work in a team and perform as part of a unit.
Apparel: Kai takes little pride in his appearance and tends to wear whatever he can find that morning, never sticking to a favourite outfit or using different clothes for specific events. Usually this results in some sort of linen shirt and leather pants, although this can vary depending on what part of the world he resides in at the time. Due to his excessive travelling Kai tends to prefer comfort over protection and even when fighting will never wear any heavy armour, such as steel or iron. He finds these too restrictive and prefers lighter armours such as leather or in some colder parts of the world fur. Kai is often to be found engaging in combat in normal linen or cloth clothes, as this allows him to utilise his speed and agility more so than any other apparel.
Weapons: “Weapons are for the weak.” Kai rarely uses weapons when it comes to combat. Though he has been known to use a bow and the occasional short sword or dagger the only weapon he carries with him is a small knife, which even still is mainly used for hunting and skinning his dinners. Kai uses his body as his weapon, his fists are scarred and his knuckles bruised. Kai is capable, through years of training to throw a fierce punch and is also known to use a variety of kicks and blocks which allow him to combat with the most experienced of opponents.
Personality: “Scars themselves are the lessons of life, left permanently on your mind, body and soul; you have never truly won a fight if the enemy cannot do as much as to lay a finger on your flesh.”
Headstrong and extremely over-confident, Kai is not invincible, something he believes himself to be. Kai revels in his aggressive nature, actively seeking out trouble and violence to show off his skill and humiliate his enemies. Rude and arrogant, Kai has very few friends and many enemies, Kai knows that he is a loner but he doesn’t seem to mind and instead takes unusual pleasure from his own company. Behind his mindless and scruffy exterior hides a brutal, impulsive, and savage killer with an excessively-violent lust for blood. Kai knows exactly what he is doing by causing trouble and does it often simply for kicks. He makes no effort to hide his personality and it doesn’t take much to recognise that Kai is impulsive and ruthless. In battle Kai has an inhumane lust for blood; aggressive and determined many people would rather avoid any conflict with such a character. Kai is also extremely resilient and is barely ever seen to back down even in cases where he has been vastly overcome. Kai revels in the challenge of combat, enjoying being backed into a corner and having to fight his way out. Despite his violent and psychotic nature, Kai is not inherently evil. Deep down it is probable that Kai does have a conscience, shown partially through the fact that he will rarely attack or engage in combat with those who are weaker than him, be it women or children. Though he personally considers this to be down to the fact that they are unworthy of his effort – this could be a cover up for some sentient considerations.
Background: Kai has his roots in Bravil, it was where he was born and raised by his single mother. A skooma addict who had little income and rarely enough time to give Kai the attention or care that he properly needed. This goes some way to explain his erratic behaviour and his aggresive individualism. His childhood was spent mostly in the underground world of Bravil, mixing and involving himself with those in crime and violence. Kai fought in what was an illegal gambling arena sticking mainly to boxing and fights without rules. Here the richer members of the city would place money on fights that were both extremely bloody and often resulted in death. When the Thalmor armies first invaded, Kai decided to move away from Bravil, spending some time on the road before heading onto the Imperial City, where he continued his now practised line of work, for much greater money - although at a greater risk. Kai Xerosa, in the underworld of the Imperial City is fast becoming a renowned name, and his reputation is ever increasing.
Werewolf&Vampire - Vaultren
Spoiler
Name: Vaultren.
Race: Imperial
Gender: Male
Age: Undetermined. Appears in his early twenties.
Sign: The Warrior
Home Country: Cyrodiil
Faction and Rank: Empire-Tribune.
Class: Nobleman.
Skills: Athletics, One Handed weapons, Light Armor, Sneak, Hand to Hand, Destruction.
Appearance: Once a man with a tousled, wavy black hair, Vaultren had a prince-like appearance about him. Though over the passing years, he had cut his hair short to where it was cropped as most Imperial males in his line of work. Though his muscular face distinguished him from the others, as his white unblemished skin which had little pigmentation. He also grew a bit more strong with a sturdier built. He bears a strong jaw, and is often seen without a smile or any positive expressions. His eyes bore dark circles beneath, convincing most people of his lack of sleep.
.
Hair: Black. Cropped.
Build: Average. He is a tad bit muscular, but not too much for a soldier. He stood six feet and was 178 pounds. He has no scars nor any distinguishing birth marks, even if he fought in many battles. Being a graduate from Synod, he knew how to use his powers to heal himself.
Personality: Vaultren was a mature and self-confident man who staunchly supported the Empire, though not it’s ways. As he grew up he was taught to face his problems head on and to face them without hesitation or reservation. This mindset led him into learning new things that would shape him into what he is in the present day. A man of utopian ideals. Years ago some would call him a seductive womanizer and a generally somewhat social man. While he retains such social skills, he is diagnosed by lifestyle to live with borderline personality disorder.
As he matured in title, his mindset did not change but simply manifested into his acts. As Praetor, Vaultren was uncertain of his duties, but was confident in his own abilities following his conquests in the battle field. He had trouble in tolerating failure, and was had a tenuous relationship with those beneath him in rank who did not prove their worth, so much as choking a noble who was later proved and convicted as a thief and another whom attacked. This led the mundane soldiers despise Vaultren for his “arcane antics” and sense of superiority. Despite his shaky relationship with diplomats and other soldiers in the Empire, Vaultren got along with his own branch of legion personnel, admiring them for their lack of cowardice and sheer mercilessness when it came to destroying an enemy under his command.
His reputation for a genteel yet cruel man increased twice fold. He became a staunch supporter of Man’s place in the world, even if he believed himself above them. While he remained a dilettante of foreign arts antiques, he secretly hated most of he perceived as the “corrupt” Mer in the High Council. He separated society into dual, distinguished categories; threats and assets. The first standing for governmental powers and individuals that would hinder any of his hopes of personal advancement and otherwise would have to be eliminated and destroyed. The latter being for individuals who could aid, or simply be persuaded. By the time of the tension with the Thalmor, Vaultren knew that the only response for the horrors and the injustices of the world was hate and anger. While often appearing as a civilized and genteel young man, Vaultren had no issues with torture or being held responsible for the deaths of various enemies, nor being leader of the clandestine atrocities behind the scenes of the Empire such as torture and executions.
Weapons: A fine sabre made of silver bearing Daedric filigree in the handle. He also has an ancient blade’s weapon, a katana. Though he does not use it as much as he did in his earlier years.
Clothing: He wears a nobleman’s clothing when he is off-duty, the hallmark of a true aristocrat. A black and burgundy outfit with gold-trimmed shoes, and even up to date. Most of them comes in shades of black, red and grey. He wears a crimson amulet around his neck and a few ruby rings which bedecks his fingers. He also owns a single black hooded robe. When on duty, Vaultren wears his standard Imperial outfit and also the Penitus Oculatus armor.
Magic: Racial powers and destruction spells. Mainly the use of fire such as fireballs and flame attacks.
History: Born in Cyrodiil, Vaultren was heir to numerous amounts of wealth and title of nobleman. His parents were strict, but proud of his intelligence and ambition, so much that they surrendered him to procure an education in the various branches of academics and universities in the Empire.
Being the most efficient learner, Vaultren graduated over brief years, having studied diplomacy and the art of combat. Of course, this did not include his skill in destruction magic. Due to his passion for war and battle and diplomacy, as well as a sense of intelligence, Vaultren rose in ranks faster than most of those around him, which coincidently had died in mysterious ways. Given the title of Praefect, he took command of a elite sect in the Imperial Legion he dubbed “The Thirteenth”. The Thirteenth was often deployed in locations where its ferocious fighting skills utilized to create a political statement. Most of its tasks were clandestine, so as to conceal what it was accomplishing from the Imperial Senate. Yet the High Council had trusted Vaultren over this time, enough to allow him to pursue his own goals.
Following that event, he became tribune not only when he fought valiantly near the edges of Cyrodiil against a rebellious coup that threatened to overrun the countryside, putting to death over forty men and women, but also warning the Emperor of various possibilities regarding the survival of the Empire in the upcoming days. As his advice proved to be valuable, he was granted title in his political station in the Imperial City palace.
The Emperor’s trusted advisers grew wary of Vaultren in what they seemed to call an “unhealthy obsession with the Thalmor.” Some believed he was in league with them when he began to publicly state his disillusionment from the Empire’s policies and ways, and even claiming the Thalmor had a certain efficiency when it came to getting things gone that the Empire lacked. This had placed him in the dossier of the Dominion itself, who believed Vaultren could have been an asset to their cause.
The Thalmor’s beliefs were short-lived as the Emperor and the High Council’s trust increased when Vaultren sniffed out a group of High Elf traitors and had them impaled on stakes deep in the prison dungeons where they remained alive for a period of three days. He even made a speech as to declare the Thalmor menace had to be “bled dry” for their “arrogance and misguided sense of superiority”.
Vaultren was later recruited into the Penitus Oculatus as well, and is planning on making a name for himself within that branch of the Empire’s military. He stands as a man of principle and reputation among the Empire, with a dark drive that would surely rival even the most insidious men and women of the Thalmor.
Motivation for Joining: An unnatural hatred for the Thalmor and it’s representatives. Also due to his support for the Imperial bureaucracy in the Third and Fourth Era which he does not wish to see collapse just yet. Believes the Thalmor are not worthy of the power-base they claim to hold, and so seeks out to destroy them with even more heinous acts and atrocities.
Name: Vaultren.
Race: Imperial
Gender: Male
Age: Undetermined. Appears in his early twenties.
Sign: The Warrior
Home Country: Cyrodiil
Faction and Rank: Empire-Tribune.
Class: Nobleman.
Skills: Athletics, One Handed weapons, Light Armor, Sneak, Hand to Hand, Destruction.
Appearance: Once a man with a tousled, wavy black hair, Vaultren had a prince-like appearance about him. Though over the passing years, he had cut his hair short to where it was cropped as most Imperial males in his line of work. Though his muscular face distinguished him from the others, as his white unblemished skin which had little pigmentation. He also grew a bit more strong with a sturdier built. He bears a strong jaw, and is often seen without a smile or any positive expressions. His eyes bore dark circles beneath, convincing most people of his lack of sleep.
.
Hair: Black. Cropped.
Build: Average. He is a tad bit muscular, but not too much for a soldier. He stood six feet and was 178 pounds. He has no scars nor any distinguishing birth marks, even if he fought in many battles. Being a graduate from Synod, he knew how to use his powers to heal himself.
Personality: Vaultren was a mature and self-confident man who staunchly supported the Empire, though not it’s ways. As he grew up he was taught to face his problems head on and to face them without hesitation or reservation. This mindset led him into learning new things that would shape him into what he is in the present day. A man of utopian ideals. Years ago some would call him a seductive womanizer and a generally somewhat social man. While he retains such social skills, he is diagnosed by lifestyle to live with borderline personality disorder.
As he matured in title, his mindset did not change but simply manifested into his acts. As Praetor, Vaultren was uncertain of his duties, but was confident in his own abilities following his conquests in the battle field. He had trouble in tolerating failure, and was had a tenuous relationship with those beneath him in rank who did not prove their worth, so much as choking a noble who was later proved and convicted as a thief and another whom attacked. This led the mundane soldiers despise Vaultren for his “arcane antics” and sense of superiority. Despite his shaky relationship with diplomats and other soldiers in the Empire, Vaultren got along with his own branch of legion personnel, admiring them for their lack of cowardice and sheer mercilessness when it came to destroying an enemy under his command.
His reputation for a genteel yet cruel man increased twice fold. He became a staunch supporter of Man’s place in the world, even if he believed himself above them. While he remained a dilettante of foreign arts antiques, he secretly hated most of he perceived as the “corrupt” Mer in the High Council. He separated society into dual, distinguished categories; threats and assets. The first standing for governmental powers and individuals that would hinder any of his hopes of personal advancement and otherwise would have to be eliminated and destroyed. The latter being for individuals who could aid, or simply be persuaded. By the time of the tension with the Thalmor, Vaultren knew that the only response for the horrors and the injustices of the world was hate and anger. While often appearing as a civilized and genteel young man, Vaultren had no issues with torture or being held responsible for the deaths of various enemies, nor being leader of the clandestine atrocities behind the scenes of the Empire such as torture and executions.
Weapons: A fine sabre made of silver bearing Daedric filigree in the handle. He also has an ancient blade’s weapon, a katana. Though he does not use it as much as he did in his earlier years.
Clothing: He wears a nobleman’s clothing when he is off-duty, the hallmark of a true aristocrat. A black and burgundy outfit with gold-trimmed shoes, and even up to date. Most of them comes in shades of black, red and grey. He wears a crimson amulet around his neck and a few ruby rings which bedecks his fingers. He also owns a single black hooded robe. When on duty, Vaultren wears his standard Imperial outfit and also the Penitus Oculatus armor.
Magic: Racial powers and destruction spells. Mainly the use of fire such as fireballs and flame attacks.
History: Born in Cyrodiil, Vaultren was heir to numerous amounts of wealth and title of nobleman. His parents were strict, but proud of his intelligence and ambition, so much that they surrendered him to procure an education in the various branches of academics and universities in the Empire.
Being the most efficient learner, Vaultren graduated over brief years, having studied diplomacy and the art of combat. Of course, this did not include his skill in destruction magic. Due to his passion for war and battle and diplomacy, as well as a sense of intelligence, Vaultren rose in ranks faster than most of those around him, which coincidently had died in mysterious ways. Given the title of Praefect, he took command of a elite sect in the Imperial Legion he dubbed “The Thirteenth”. The Thirteenth was often deployed in locations where its ferocious fighting skills utilized to create a political statement. Most of its tasks were clandestine, so as to conceal what it was accomplishing from the Imperial Senate. Yet the High Council had trusted Vaultren over this time, enough to allow him to pursue his own goals.
Following that event, he became tribune not only when he fought valiantly near the edges of Cyrodiil against a rebellious coup that threatened to overrun the countryside, putting to death over forty men and women, but also warning the Emperor of various possibilities regarding the survival of the Empire in the upcoming days. As his advice proved to be valuable, he was granted title in his political station in the Imperial City palace.
The Emperor’s trusted advisers grew wary of Vaultren in what they seemed to call an “unhealthy obsession with the Thalmor.” Some believed he was in league with them when he began to publicly state his disillusionment from the Empire’s policies and ways, and even claiming the Thalmor had a certain efficiency when it came to getting things gone that the Empire lacked. This had placed him in the dossier of the Dominion itself, who believed Vaultren could have been an asset to their cause.
The Thalmor’s beliefs were short-lived as the Emperor and the High Council’s trust increased when Vaultren sniffed out a group of High Elf traitors and had them impaled on stakes deep in the prison dungeons where they remained alive for a period of three days. He even made a speech as to declare the Thalmor menace had to be “bled dry” for their “arrogance and misguided sense of superiority”.
Vaultren was later recruited into the Penitus Oculatus as well, and is planning on making a name for himself within that branch of the Empire’s military. He stands as a man of principle and reputation among the Empire, with a dark drive that would surely rival even the most insidious men and women of the Thalmor.
Motivation for Joining: An unnatural hatred for the Thalmor and it’s representatives. Also due to his support for the Imperial bureaucracy in the Third and Fourth Era which he does not wish to see collapse just yet. Believes the Thalmor are not worthy of the power-base they claim to hold, and so seeks out to destroy them with even more heinous acts and atrocities.
Reserved: (These folk are currently not signed up, but if any of you are interested there is still a spot waiting for you)
Scow
Steve the Pirate
Evil Pigeon
Urrinor
Ranry
Ni!
Tommy Bozzer
Vanir
