J'Daska could hear the whispers of madness run throughout his head as he tasted bitterness of sea water and sand on the inside of his mouth. All that shrouded him was darkness as his cage layed washed up on the beach. The cage that he rested in had no doors on it and instead was just a large crate with 3 airholes punched inside that had become usless as it layed face down on the ground cutting off his air supply. He wasn't considered to be a person by anyone who saw him, and in their eyes he was an animal. They would always say, "he's crazy.... maybe harmless crazy, maybe not."

But now he layed passed out inside his cage and near death, and the sea seemed determined to have him join the quickly rising body count that littered the beach. But someone was watching him. And they weren't going to let his journey to end this quickly. And then right then out of nowhere a giant wave sprang from the sea and with full force slammed against the box hurling foward and it was flung in the air. It bounced a couple times before it finally landed. And as it landed it rested at the feet of two survivors known as Frederick and Validus. The crate now stood there right side up with the airholes sticking out to let in nice fresh air instead of sand and sea water. And the stamp on the front now read nice and clear "DANGER: LIVE CARGO INSIDE DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES OPEN!!!". But now all he had to do was get out. And for a moment he layed there in silence but then like magic, his right hand sprang to life as it began to move. His hand puppet still remained on his hand and it was now awake. And was determined to escape.

Right then a very fancy british voice burst from the box. "Hello exscuse my manners but could someone out there please let me out of this box. It's just so dirty down here. It's full of sand and sea water and all sorts of other nastys" the voice paused for a few moments "UH HMMM.... did ANYONE HEAR ME!!!!!!! Hello? HELLO!?!"

OOC: Hey if you choose to open the box please don't rp my character for me at all even the small things like me getting out of the box or my puppet showing up i have my own intro in mind.

OOC: I declare that no box opening shall take place, and you shall have a very boring time of this RP

IC: Farnet woke, but did not stir. He lay there face down, still dazed from the crash.

'What... what happened?'

He turned his head to one side, opening his amber eyes to survey the destruction before him. The mast was broken in two halves, one end still attached to what was left of the ship. Various debris scattered the beach: broken planks, collapsed crates and barrels, and indistinct lumpy shapes that Farnet could not identify.

The Redguard finished turning over, scanning the peaceful sky above him. With a sigh, he sat up and looked once more at the remains around him. The ocean lapped peacefully against the shore, broken here and there by a larger wave.

'What is that...' He stood up to better look at a nearby object 'By the Nine! That- that's Iryan!'

He rushed over to the corpse of his late friend. The elf was obviously dead, but that didn't stop Farnet from kneeling over his body, hot tears disappearing in the sand around him.

His grief was interrupted by distant shouting. Farnet thought he made out a hello, though the accent was strange. He wiped the tears from his eyes to better see what made the sound. A welcome sight greeted him, fellow survivors, standing further down the beach, next to a large crate.

Farnet gave his dead friend a final forlorn goodbye, then began jogging down towards the men. He ran, tripping over the offal of the ship, drawing closer to his fellow survivors.

The last day on the ship had been complete hell - the storm had caught it completely unprepared. Rattling and shaking it around too fiercely for Jimri to be able to change her dress for something more practical. And since swimming in a storm in a rather cumbersome brocade dress was a drowning proposition she had been force to use a piece of broken rigging as a makeshift buoy. Using the ropes to tie herself to it. Which had proven a wise decision as she had passed out from the storm's mauling.

The heat from the sun and a pang of thirst brought her back to the world. Still in the water, adrift with her wooden floater. As she looked around she could see her situation was better than she had thought : she wasn't drifting on open see, but seemingly stuck some distance from a shore. Where she could some people moving. Fine but I've still to get o the shore.

Finding her purse still tied to her belt, Jimri fished out a pocket knife and started using it mercilessly on what was left of her dress. Shortenings the cuffs above her elbows and the hem a bit above knee-height. Saving a strip of the fabric to tie her hair into a ponytail to bring them into a semblance of order.

Once done, she used the knife one last time to cut through the ropes binding her to her raft before putting it back in her purse and swimming to the shore. Feeling stiff, sore and bruised but apparently with every piece where it belonged and in working order.

While swimming Jimri took care to keep quiet and low in the water, unsure of who were the peoples she could see on the shore. Probably other survivors from the ship, but she'd rather be sure than stumbling upon a band of shipwreckers or worse. But as she came closer she could identify two of the ship's sailors and one of the passengers. She didn't know much of the man, but the pieces of black armor littering the sand at his feet were proof enough. The idiot's very lucky to have made it to the shore rather than sinking to the bottom. Plate armor on a ship is nothing but an anchor waiting to go overboard.

Feeling the sand under her feet she stood up and walked to the shore then to the men. "Hi all, I'm glad I'm not the only one who made it."

Malinus groaned as the tide hit his legs again. He pushed himself up of the ground slowly and carefully as he blinked, trying to get his finish back to normal. Right now he was seeing spots, most likely from the impact which was still affecting him. He had been in bed when it all started, and had had just enough time to get dressed before some impact sent him into a wall. Everything after that was a blur, as he had been on the edge of unconsciousness.

Once his vision was suitably cleared, he did a quick check of his body to find any injuries, and was disheartened to see a trail of blood going all the way down his leg. It was painful to move, but not enough to keep him from standing on it. That meant it wasn't broken. There was a rather nasty cut on it though, when he inspected it more carefully. Whatever had hit him in the leg had gone straight through his pants, leaving a gash on the front of his right leg for all to see. He sat back down and ripped the bottom of his right pant's leg, then tied it around the wound as tightly as he could. It definitely wasn't much, and it wasn't a very neat job either, but the last thing he needed was a bleeding leg.

It wasn't until he finished with it that he remembered his ring, and glanced down at his hand to find it still there. He breathed a short sigh of relief, then looked around the island, taking in his surroundings for the first time. There were bodies strewn across the shore, some alive, some not. There was plenty of wreckage as well, and a handful of people milling about, gaining their bearings. He did a quick scan of the beach for the chest containing his things, and was slightly disappointed to find it nowhere in sight. He hoped it was somewhere on the beach and not at the bottom of the ocean. As useless as the items in it were now, it still held a lot of sentimental value for him.

He walked over to the nearest man, who was taking off a set of black armor, a slight limp in his right leg. He was suddenly wishing he had saved that bottle of brandy instead of drinking it the night before. There were a few others in earshot as well, though they looked to be in just as bad a condition as the man in the black armor.

"I suppose it would be too much to ask that anyone knows where we are. It would figure that something like this would happen right when I retire. Damn Gods must have it out for me," he said, the last two sentences to himself. He was still a bit disoriented, a shook his head to try and clear it away. He was lucky he hadn't suffered any head trauma, otherwise he might not have even been able to stand.

OOC: Ambrose, is Malinus wearing his armor? Or just a few pieces of it?

Validus looked over at the old man, who was limping. He took his sword and slowly lent it against his cuirass; he then moved to the wreckage and began picking up the driftwood. With as much driftwood as he could carry, Validus took the wood closer to the treeline hoping it would dry before nightfall.

"I suppose it would be too much to ask that anyone knows where we are," the man said.

"Obviously an island. Definitely not Summerset. But I think we should worry less on where we are and more on what we are going to do about food, shelter, and the like," Validus said matter-of-factly. The sound of the voice in the box was beginning to get on Validus' nerves. "And could someone open that damned box?"

OOC: Doesn't really matter ill break out while you all are sleeping. Of course whoever wants to can release me now.... right now..... no need to wait..... anyone any time.....Anyone?.....please....

Frederick chuckled at he looked down towards the crate at his feet. He knew who was in there before he even heard the voice. It was J'daska, the crazy one.
Frederick didn't mind J'daska, although sometimes he just goes too far.
"Hey J'daska you silly mongrel!" Frederick called as he bent down until he reached the crates height. "How'd ya get in there?"
As he waited for a response Frederick tried prying open the damp lid. No luck. He kicked the crate and watched as it went rolling down the sand dune he was standing on. Frederick laughed as ran after it.
At least there's something to do out here! He thought as he reached where the crate had stopped. He collapsed onto the sandy ground, laughing and laughing until he was out of breath.
"Sorry about that mate!" He chuckled as he tried once again to open the lid, after a few minutes of hard labour it was sent flying open. The lid landed in the water with a gentle splash and Frederick laid back onto the sand panting and laughing at the same time.

OOC: Ready to jump out now Dark Fox? By the way, how about J'daska and Fred are friends?

Seeing that her greeting seemed to have fallen on deaf ears Jimri kept walking until she had reached the mixed group standing on the beach. Jumping a bit from surprise as a voice could be heard coming from a crate. How comes someone's piled into that crate ? It was certainly for a reason and I'm not sure it's a good idea to let loose whoever is inside. But that's a bit late to voice my concern.

But as one of the survivors seemed to know who was inside, visibly taking it more as a joke than a precautions, she relaxed. Stupid joke in my opinion, but as long as they don't try that sort of tricks on me it shouldn't be a problem.

When the concern for food and shelter was mentioned Jimri added her own opinion "My first worry would be water - no matter where we are, it looks like the climate is tropical. We can do without shelter or even food for quite a while, bu without water we'll be dead soon. Even worse after we've probably drunk our fill of seawter coming here."

The lid to the crate suddenly flew open and light spilled into the box. For a moment there was nothing but then out of no where a hand puppet looking like a black house cat propped its self outside. It sat there for a moment and then began to speak, "Oh my thank you for finally letting me out of that box I didn't think I would make it out of there alive.", the puppet said as he tipped at large black top hat to the man. "Oh and how rude of me not introduce myself, I am Mr.Kittysworth fine gentlemen and you are?"

Farnet slowed to a walk as he approached the group of other survivors. Three were standing in a group, and one more was further down the beach, standing over a crate. The Redguard watched the Imperial man open the box, expecting him to reach inside and retrieve some food or supplies. Farnet's eyebrows shot up in a mixed look of confusion and disbelief as a... a puppet appeared over the lip of the crate.

The cat shaped doll spoke, no, the person holding the doll spoke in a strange, foriegn accent "Oh my thank you for finally letting me out of that box. I didn't think I would make it out of there alive.", the puppet said as he tipped his large black top hat "Oh and how rude of me not introduce myself, I am Mr.Kittysworth, my fine gentlemen. And you are?"

Had the words come out of anyone's mouth but a cat shaped puppet, Farnet might introduce himself. But as the situation was, he found himself saying something else entirely "What in the Nine are you doing?! Why are you in that box to begin with, you could have died!"

Farnet looked to the others, to see if they would react in kind to this sight. Farnet had had no idea there was such a... thing on the boat, but what other explanation was there?

OOC: For the record, Mal doesn't have his weapon or armor yet.

Malinus nodded as the people began talking about how to survive. Quick thinkers, at least. "Well, I'm not sure about water. Food and shelter should be easy enough to accomplish, though perhaps more time consuming."

Malinus cracked his neck as he looked over towards one of the other standing survivors, and had to do a double take as a puppet burst out of the box. He stared in slight shock for a moment before regaining his senses. "Now... That's something you don't see everyday." Perhaps, had he been in a better state of mind, he might have gone over to investigate, but at the moment, he could only concentrate on one thing at a time.

He turned away from the box, rubbing his eyes a bit, and looking towards the jungle. "Perhaps some supplies might have survived the crash. If not, then there should be fruits or vegetables of some kind in the jungle. As for water, perhaps if we could find some sort of stream. No telling what's safe and what isn't around here though. Nature has never been my strong suit."

He glanced briefly at another survivor who was speaking to the thing in the box. He blinked again at the sight of the puppet and wondered again where the chest with his equipment was.

Frederick smiled with amusemant as a puppet showed from the crate... and spoke?
"Oh my thank you for finally letting me out of that box I didn't think I would make it out of there alive." It said in a strange accent, J’Daska’s accent. "Oh and how rude of me not introduce myself, I am Mr. Kittysworth fine gentlemen and you are?"
Frederick tilted his head with a confused look on his face.
"J'daska? I know who you are mate. I'm Frederick." He explained slowly to the Khajiit. "Now hop the hell outta that crate before the tide comes in."
Frederick turned around and ran back up the sand dune to where the others were standing.

“So what now guys? “ He asked. “I say we split up. A few of us go lookin’ for food, a few go looking for some water and some of us stay here and chop up some wood for a fire. Looks like it’s gonna get cold ‘ere tonight.”

While he waited for a response he looked around, the jungle behind them was thick and emerald green. The sounds emitting from it gave Frederick the creeps. He had never heard them before, there was loud screeching noises and roaring noises to go with it. The roaring sounded like a mountain lion’s, but much, much louder. The sun was setting and it was getting cold, Frederick looked down towards the crate.
Ahh J’daska you silly Khajiit get outta there before the tide comes in!

OOC: Just so you know, no one else knows who i am other than Vum.

The puppets shook his head.

"I'm afraid to tell you Freddrick that J'daska is out at the moment. But just a moment and I'll wake him up" The puppet said, his words now matching exactly with the movements of his mouth. Even enough to convince someone for a second that he was actually talking. The puppet then delved back inside the box and disapeared for a moment. For a few seconds there was nothing but then a loud voice rang out loud and clear from the box immediatley getting everyone's attention.

"AHHHHHHHH WAKE UP GOD DAMMIT WE ARE NOT GOING THROUGH THIS AGAIN YOU OVER SLEEPING SON OF [censored]!!!" the puppets voice rang throughout islandthe whole . There was nothing but silence but then out of nowhere a large yawn shot out from the box. A Khajiit's head then shot out of the box.

"Oh my what'd I miss" the Khajiit said as he stretched his arms and rubbed his eyes. He then stepped out of the box, and paced across the sand.

"Finally your awake J'Daska i've been trying to wake you all morning!!!", the puppet exclaimed to the Khajiit in a very angry voice.

"Really now well... i'm hungry", the Khajiit announced as he pulled a perfectly ripe bananna out of his pocket.

"How can you be thinking about food at this hour" the puppet said as the Khajiit slowly peeled the bananna. It reminded all the people on the island how hungry they were, the bananna was perfect peek of perfection or mostly the type of fruit you see first class ship riders eating. The Khajiit licked the bananna a couple time before chomping down on it.

"My god J'daska where did you get such a perfect piece of fruit?" the puppet asked looking at it hungerily.

"I just borrowed it from the kitchen before we boarded. See I brought graqes and apples and oranges." The Khajii said as he emptied his pockets of all the fruits that he "borrowed" from the first class kitchen.

"But you know I think I took to much, I know i'll make a fire out of whats left." J'daska then pulled out pack of matches that he also "borrowed" from the first class kitchen and lit the whole thing a flames.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING THATS ARE ONLY SUPPLY OF FOOD!!! NOW WE DON'T HAVE ANY!!!!" Yelled Mr.Kittysworth at the top of his lungs.

"No we still have this" J'daska said as he pulled out a rather large supplies crate from the sea.

"Oh thank god....." said Mr.Kittysworth. But then J'daska thrusted the box into the fire burning what little supplies they had left.

"And now we don't have any!!!" J'Daska said with a huge grin on his face. But his puppet watched in horror as their remaining supplies burned before there eyes.

"YOU IDIOT LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE!!!!! DON'T YOU SEE BECAUSE OF YOU WERE ALL GOING TO DIE HERE!!!!!!" Mr.Kittysworth screamed at the Khajiit.

"Yeah fire!!!" J'Daska replied clapping his hands together and prancing around.

Did you just light fruit on fire... by itself? I know you then added the box, but... Anyway, terrible grammar. Kind of funny, but fix some of that, please.

IC: Farnet had decided to ignore the two down by the crate, but he wouldn't let them waste supplies "Hey, stop that! If we're going to survive here, we're going to need things like that! Stop him, Frederick!"

The Redguard shook his head, then looked up at the others grimly. One of the Imperial men started talking as he approached the group "Perhaps some supplies might have survived the crash. If not, then there should be fruits or vegetables of some kind in the jungle. As for water, perhaps if we could find some sort of stream. No telling what's safe and what isn't around here though. Nature has never been my strong suit."

He wasted no time with pleasantries or mourning, this crew was right to business. 'Good, we'll live longer.'

"I'm no ranger, but I learned a few tricks here and there. Supplies won't be a problem with a group this size, but what we really need is a way to get help. A bonfire, perhaps. Because I'm guessing we aren't so fortunate that one of you knows magic, are we?"

Farnet's dripping clothes didn't bother him. The lack of a system of leadership didn't bother him. The possibilty they all might die didn't bother him in the slightest. The thought that he might never return home, never see his wife and daughter; now that made his heart turn to ice.

He sighed, then looked each of the three others in the eyes. A bosmer woman, the Imperial that had just spoken, and the other Cyrod. The only one he knew by name was Validus, but it seemed like he would have to get comfortable with these fellows. It might be a long, long time before they are rescued.

Name: Shadow-of-Samar
Nickname: Shadow
Age: 28
Race: Argonian
Gender: Male
Birthsign: The Moonshadow

Focus: Stealth
Class: Assassin
Skills: sneak, blade (mostly daggers), acrobatics (mostly agility and flexibility), security, and restoration magic

Mental Description: Very misterious. talks very little, and is barely ever seen during the day
Physical Description: Completely black scales (hence the "Shadow") gaunt features, very thin, small build
Height: 5"7'
Weight: 98 lbs.
Hair: n/a
Eye Color: black
Scars/Tattoos: none are visible; though it is rumored that if you look at his back, there is a dragon coiled right beneath his shoulders...

Armor/Clothing: a pair of black pants; anything else will get in the way of his sneaking skill
Weapons: steel dagger, steel longsword
Inventory: a few potions of restore health/ fatigue, a meager ammount of gold, a few potions taht could knock out most human(oid)s, and a mortar and pestil (he's not skilled with it, but he can make a few things)

Misc: ???

Bio: as a child, Shadow-of-Samar was always unnoticed. his whole life, he was the child who was ignored, and it seemed as though he didn't exist to the rest of the world. this, however, he used to his advantage. he effectively learned to pickpocket people, and steal... not the most honorable way to get by, but by the time he had to move away from his parent's house, it was all he knew. then, before long, on one of his travels, he had to learn to defend himself. so he picked up a blade, and got good with it. then, being persued by the imperial watch catain at the port for staling a dimond ring off the finger of a noblewoman, he snuck onto the ship, completely unnoticed...

anyway...

as Shadow-of-Samar watched the precedings from his vantage point at the top of a sand dune, he couldn't help but think, i cant believe that i'm stuck on an island far from civilization with a bunch of idots and a crazy cat with a puppet. well, at least i'm away from that stupid imperial watch captain...

he took the ring out of his pocket, and threw it in the sand, a whole lot of good that does me now, he thought bitterly.

he looked up at the sun, thinking of how he should be asleep until many hours later. he had become nocturnal, and too much light typicly hurt his eyes.

so, still unnoticed by everyone, he went into the jungle, climbed a tree, and used a particularly large branch as a hammoc, and fell asleep.

[OOC : most fruits hold plenty of water ? with matches you'll only sing them a bit. And a crate won't burn in seconds, especially after some time in water.]
Jimri's attention was draw to the now opened crate and the khajit that came out o it. Clearly kissed by Sheoggorath ? and no timid kiddie kiss. She watched with some irritation as he started a fire and tossed he fruits in it but didn't mind. The island's vegetation seemed close enough to what one can find on Valenwood's southern coast and she was confident she could find something edible there. And she meant edible to the visiting imperials. An idea to which her empty stomach growled it's approbation.

Though when the lunatic dragged a crate with the markings of the ship's supply holds and added it to the fire the irritation turned to anger. It took only a few second to find a suitable piece of timber ? a bit more than on inch thick and one yard long. She walked quickly to the fire and used her lever to move the crate out of the fire before it's content could be too damaged.
Looking at the lunatic with his puppet with a scowl which seemed hardly possible on her usually nice face. Tapping the piece of wood in her had as she seriously considered the option of breaking it on the khajit's head. "Take that as a warning. The hungrier I get, the thiner my civility. And the closer you'll be to end up as a carpet. So you'd bette think twice before wasting food."

Name: Kisan Tearnor
Nickname: Kisan
Age: 27
Race: Imperial
Gender: Male
Birthsign: Lady

Focus: Trading
Class: Merchant
Skills: Mercantile, Speechcraft, Blade (He loves fencing.)

Mental Description:
Being born in a family consisting mainly of nobles who made great wealth selling weapons and armor to the military during the Oblivion crisis, Kisan has been raised while being thought good manners and how to behave. He is now known to enjoy more sophisticated pleasures and often organize reknowned social gatherings. Kisan has a refined sense of humour and is charismatic. He is intelligent and knows how to profit from any situation. Unfortunatly, in an industry like his, there is little room for errors and has been known to show little tolerance.

Physical Description: Kisan is a tall and proud man. He isn't fat nor too slim. His hair is cut short and elegantly combed to the side. He has high cheekbones and a smooth skin. His eyes are wide and radiant. His facial hair is always shaven.
Height: 6'1 ft
Weight: 160
Hair: Black and combed
Eye Color: Green
Scars/Tattoos: None

Armor/Clothing: A pair of brown leather shoes. Brown leather pants and a blue silk shirt.
Weapons: None
Inventory: A map of summerset and a large sack of gold.

Misc:

Bio: Born is a very rich family, Kisan was thought the ropes of his father's job at a very young age so that he could take control of his family's trade empire once his time has come. He lived a peacefull life in his family estate north of Skingrad. Once criminality rose in Cyrodiil, his family tried to find a way to profit from it. Summerset was prospering, so they decided to send Kisan there and set up trade routes between Summerset and Cyrodiil.


IC:

The soft sound of gentle waves crashing onto the beach woke Kisan. He smiled.

Peace, finally

Thoughts of last night came to him, when the ship was wildly rocking back and forth and the sailors were yelling at the top of their lungs. He took a couple of minutes to enjoy the relaxing sound of the churning water.

The nightmare is finally over.

Unfortunatly for him, he opened his eyes and a whole new vision of hell presented itself to him.

The first thing he saw were the rays of the blazing hot sun blinding him temporarly. He stumbled up only to find himself cut and bruised in several places. As he examined his surroundings, his heart gave in and panick flooded him. Strewn across the beach was the weckage of the ship he was supposed to be in, the many lifeless bodies of it's crew scattered here and there. It took some time for his brain to accept the sight which was presented to him. He stood there, confused and afraid for several minutes, staring at the vessel in disbelief. Finally, he began to walk aimlessly on the shore, trying to find out what to do. Further along the beach, he tripped over a body. He looked back at the dead man. The sight grossed him out. Being raised in a rich family, he was inexperienced to the horrors of death, and the sight laying infront of him hit him hard emotionally. The mutilated body of a dead breton made him feel sick, and it wasn't long before he threw up. Kisan quickly got up and ran further down the beach away from the horrors, confused and almost sobbing.

It wasn't long before he came upon more wreckage of the ship, complete with a dozen more bodies. A group of men and women caught his eye. Hope rising in him, he ran at full speed towards the group.

"Hey!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. "Over here!"

He looked like a mess with his messy black hair, torned blue silk shirt and his normally clean and handsome face tainted with mud. A small bruised could be seen over his left cheek and his eyes were wild reminding those of a madman.

When he came close to the group, he slowed his pace.

"Finally... survivors... What happened? What are we going to do?" He asked, panting. "Name's Kisan Tearnor..."

He shot out his hand for a handshake, as he would normally do when he greeted old and new friends alike. These simple formalities seemed useless considering the situation, but he became too used to them during his lifetime.

OOC: My writing is kinda rusted. If I make any errors, please point them out.

[ooc: could someone please make it a little later in the day? Edit: i'm tired of hearing the same crash scene replayed from a different point of view]

OOC: That was my intro post, somebody needs to move this along :-/

Frederick ignored the extended hand of Kisan and instead nodded in greeting.
“What happened you ask? Well mate. That happened.” Frederick motioned out towards the sea, where what was left of the ship floated gently on the waves.

By this time night had fallen, and the sounds of the forest had quietened to soft chirps of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the wind. The cold had taken its toll and Frederick was silently shivering. He moved closer to the dying flames of the fire for warmth. After a few minutes Frederick laid his head down on the soft grainy sand of the beach, he pulled off his vest and bunched it up to use as a makeshift pillow.
“Well I dunno ‘bout you guys but I need some sleep. Night.”
Frederick gazed up at the stars, trying to make out shapes in them as he had done as a child. He pretended that everything he saw was real, such as the shape of a ship he had managed to make out. He pretended that he was the captain of that ship, this brought back memories of his ship, "The Lady Luck", and how he and his crew had sailed across the seas. A single tear fell from his eye and slid down his face.

Eventually Frederick's eyes closed, and he fell off to sleep. In his sleep he dreamt of the times he and his crew on "The Lady Luck" had had together. He dreamt of the pirates boarding his ship, he dreamt of the screams of terror, the clash of swords...

He dreamt of what would happen next.

"Oh my Mr.Kittysworth what shall we do today" Ri'daska asked his hand puppet as he shook it up and down.

"It's nighttime you dreadful idiot. And plus you should be tied up at the moment.... but your not, and you should be dead, But your not..... hmm this is cleary a sign." The puppet said as he pondered his thoughts for a moment. The two were standing before the moonlight, and were the only ones awake. Dead of midnight and nothing but the ocean was heard for miles. And as this was going on the two sat there and thought for a moment.

"Yes Ri'Daska I believe that the Lord may be trying to contact us. It is clear this island is going to drive these people crazy....... but it will take to drive them to madness." His hand puppet explained.

"Yes and I will make sure ruin any plans they have for survival. Then I will ensure there will be no escape!!!! Muhahahahaha" Ri'daska laughed aloud, unaware that he may accidently wake the others up causing them to overhear their conversations. "For the Madgod!!!!" Ri'daska yelled.

OOC: I thought that you were J'daska?

Name: Renault
Nickname: none
Age:45
Race:Breton
Gender:Male
Birthsign:The Ritual


Focus:Magic
Class:Bishop
Skills:Restoration, Alteration, Illusion, Alchemy


Mental Description: Renault is a very quiet and observant man, and will most likely keep to himself. He has gone through different phases in his life which have changed him many times for better or for worse. He now has a distinct sense of loyalty and faith, and upholds the things that he believes are good, such as the Nine Divines. He may be distant and not be a social to others, but he believes it is his duty in life to help others in need.



Physical Description: Renault carries himself with with confidence, and has an air of experience and knowledge about him. His face is calm, if not hardened. He is slender and still displays the strength he gained from serving with the Knights of the Nine.
Height:5'9''
Weight:148
Hair:Long dark hair that extends down just above his shoulders
Eye color: Grey
Scars/Tatooes: A small symbol just under his right eye, that would complete the image of the Ritual

Armor/Clothing: He wears a hooded white robe, indicative of a holy man, or preist. Underneath this he wears a gray silk shirt and black pants, completed by a pair of black mage's shoes. He wears an enchanted ring and amulet that both fortify his magicka.
Weapon:None
Inventory: A small assortment of books, various keys, a few potions, and a mortar and pestle.

Misc:

Bio:

Renault was born on the island of Vvardenfell to two Breton mages who were had ventured there originally to worship Daedra safely, but upon having a child made plans to leave back to High Rock. The two were beset by a series of misfortunes and were stuck in Morrowind for a longer period of time, so Renault was raised on Vvardenfell up until his midteens. Being outlanders, there lives were harder to live as they were not accepted into the mainstream Dunmer population. Renault grew up being hated and this had a resounding effect on his mind, and he grew cold and introspective and began involving himself with magic. During these years he was exposed to Daedra worship by his parents and took part in it and strongly beleived in it.


At the age of fifteen the family had started their journey back to High Rock but it was dangerous and took much time. They never successfully made it. Renaults father was slain by by bandits east of Cheydinhal near the base of the Valus Mountains. Renault and his mother took refuge in Cheydinhal, and eventually called it home. The death of his father pushed Renault to the edge, and as a young advlt he fell into necromancy. He abandoned the daedra and began following the King of Worms. At first he just seeked power to exact his revenge, but as he grew stronger his goals shifted towards bringing back his father. He was never able to reach this end. After the Mages Guild banned necromancy it made his dealings much more difficult, and after the death of his closest friend and dearest lover at the hands of Mages Guild battlemages he descended into a dark place. He roamed the wilds of Cyrodiil and without a purpose or thought or sleep or nourishment. The magic in him was the only thing that sustained him. On the brink of death he collapsed near a cave and was trapped in his mind for a time that caused him much mental suffering.

He was found by a preist that was searching the wilderness for herbs to make strong medicines for the ill. This preist brought him to a priory just a ways of from the northwestern city of Chorrol. It was here that Renault began walking on the slow road to recovery. So much had been lost. He was unable to walk and spent a long period of time in bed. He was too weak too practice magicka, and had no energy to hold evil thoughts. All he had was greif for his lost friend. He spent his time reading from the library at the priory. And this is how he found the Nine. Through his studies he eventually found peace, and motivation. His recooperation progressed exponentially from then on. He realized necromancy for the evil that it was, and repented of all his evil acts and asked for forgiveness. He joined the chapel in Chorrol and decided the only way he could he could make up for his acts was to help others in any way that he could. He studied the school of Restoration and practiced Alchemy . He became a chapel healer and made a considerable sum of money through that, and selling his strong potions he made. He relocated to Skingrad and served the people there as best he could, which in fact was very well.

During the Oblivion crisis his services were needed more often and by more people. He had heard the rumors about Anvil too. He traveled there and witnessed the horror of the Chapel. This sparked a fire in him. At this time Renault was much older and had not thought about his life before finding the Nine. He remembered he once worshipped daedra, the same beings that committed this atrocity. A surge of memory and feelings rushed back into him, and he was inspired to take the pilgrimage talked about by the Prophet. He traveled the path of the pilgrim and felt his faith even more imboldened. After the Divine Crusader had restored the Knights of the Nine, Renault served with them and fought along side other knights in the holy conquests. It was after ten years of service that he took his leave of the Knights and returned to his chapel work, now with new found strengths. He had decided the life of violence could not be for him, and even regretted the the fighting for the Nine, even if it was for good. He wondered how much good he had actually done. Cyrodiil was stricken with crime and wrongdoing. He decided he needed to go somewhere away from it all. Maybe he could spread the worship of the Nine to a new land. He liked the idea.


And so he rode to Anvil. He packed what he felt he needed and left Skingrad. He stayed in Anvil for a few days until he could secure a ship. He had no idea where he would be taken too. When he learned the ship he had boarded was off to Summerset Isle he had some fears. He knew that daedra worship had become increasingly prevalent there, and he knew that could mean trouble, but in fact he knew nothing of what was ahead of him.

OOC: I would post but I'm not sure about what time it is in the story

OOC: early we just went to our first night.....