[STEVI INQUE]

So then we have you as the 'main' GM? Vincent as the Master of Daedric Affairs and me as Master of Time (keeping track of the current date) and controlling minor characters. And does Smig have a spesific task? Who will have the main responsibility to post new threads?

Edit: And there is the possibility that I won't build a new Inn over the ruins after all. I might try to expand the original Hela's Folly instead.

[sam westover]

I'm in charge of the wiki. I don't mind making new threads but that could just depend on who's more active at any given moment.

[John N]

This would be the case.

The person who happens to have the current OOC-thread open is responsible for keeping it updated with new characters coming in, etc.

I'll control minor characters, and I guess I might be able to keep the "What happened in the last thread"-part open as well, although it would be nice if that could be split in two, as it turned out to be too much for me to keep up with. So, any character-list that comes up, I'd take the upper half (rounded up, minus the other GM's character), and the other GM would take the lower half, rounded down. Then, when an RP-thread is about to reach 200 posts, me and the other GM would see the major things the characters have done, and re-post their information in the new original post of the next RP-thread, including who they are with, where they are, and what they have done.

This helps everyone keep an easy track of everyone's characters, even if the RPers are in many RP's. I believe it's an important enough feature to be worth adding, but I can't (won't ) do it alone. Been there, done that. It's lucky I'm alive.

[Jonathan Braz]

Sounds good Gorbad. I volunteer to do one half, though I doubt we'll have the spikes of activity we had last year in this forum.

[Harry Hearing]

Great! Doesn't hurt to be prepared tho'

Now, when do we plan to open an RP-Thread? Are we waiting for somthing specific to happen?

[Nauty]

A scene with Leandra finding Fiona would be a great starter but if that takes too long we could kick it off in the meantime. I'd wait a while longer.

[Samantha Wood]

I'd be more than happy to post that, but it wouldn't take place in Valton proper. Everyone would have to start their own thang in the village independently.

[Clea Jamerson]

That sounds good to me.

By the way, to avoid confusion, I think we should start a new RP thread. I can do that if you'd rather not bother with such petty tasks

Also, I imagine that after posting the outcome of Fiona's scene, you (or any GM) should set the stage to the morning of a new day in Valton. Only then should we start posting.

[darnell waddington]

[censored]. Why did I nominate myself for this?

Probably won't' be writing that post any time today. I have a lengthy backlog with my duties for OPAP, I should warn you.

[(G-yen)]

Well, you can't back off now or the tears of a thousand angels would swallow the world.

We'll take care of the OP. It might need frequent updating anyway so it's probably best if it's either me or Ayumi. Maybe we could have some short recap of the last chapters events? Like the clearing of the mine, Fiona's disappearance and the fire.

[Lakyn Ellery]

That sounds good. Not the part about the world being swallowed tho'.

[Kayla Bee]

Good news everyone, PFA agreed to do the first post, not me. So now you can stare balefully at him until he writes something. I'm off to OPAP a bit.

[Sabrina garzotto]

The http://www.gamesas.com/topic/1457173-valton-the-new-hold-rp-thread-chapter-ii-1/ is up, so... PFA, um... anytime now

[Gavin boyce]

Right, um, let me just finish up Leandra's new sheet and I'll get on it... eventually

EDIT: Boom, Leandra's sheet. The biggest changes are that she's a few inches shorter, her whole body is tattooed rather than just her arm, and she has a shortsword. Apart from that, it's mostly just catching the CS Leandra up with the RP Leandra (which includes no longer disguising the fact little Miss Tinkerwatch is, put plainly, rather mad )

Spoiler

Name: Leandra Flavia Lavidia
Age: 26
Race: Nibenese Imperial
Gender: Female
Birthsign: The Atronach

Height: 5'5
Appearance: Despite her unusual vocation, Leandra still looks rather like your average young woman; or she would, that is - if this were the Nibenay. Unfortunately, this is Skyrim, whose average denizen is pale-skinned, built like a barrel and brushing six feet tall; in other words, everything that the Nibenese girl decidedly isn't. With her paltry 5'5, she will oftentimes seem almost comically short alongside your typical Nord - and that's before you realize someone has, as they say, gone to town on her tan skin, treating the entirety of her lithe, wiry body as a canvas upon which to tattoo esoteric patterns in every shade of blue imaginable. A flowing, swirling and oftentimes - apparently entirely nonsensical mess of shape and colour, to another Nibenay-born it would serve as a treasure-trove of information about Leandra's family, education and role in society; among the northmen, it seems rather more likely to bring to mind the painted tribute-cows sometimes offered to the giants.

Even the adventurer's gaunt face hasn't avoided this dazzling onslaught, its entire lefthand side playing host to an extravaganza of wobbly waves and swirls that stop just short of swallowing her thin, slightly arched eyebrows. Said eyebrows are of the exact same charcoal-black colour as her messy mid-length hair - a colour that contrasts somewhat sharply with the bright blue of her large, cheerful eyes. Rather pronounced (but not to an Elven degree) cheekbones, a small, just slightly snub nose and lips that may be described as quite plump complete the picture, giving Leandra a pleasant, if slightly "soft" look - which is not really something you'd expect from a person who shoots crossbow bolts at Daedra for a living.

Class: Mercenary, Daedra Hunter extraordinaire, all-purpose armed wanderer type; in other words, one of those countless hobbyist aristocrat adventurers that are both Tamriel's bane and its salvation.
Skills: Hobbyist or no, there is no denying that Leandra is - a few (or, well, more than a few) eccentricities aside - quite the capable woman. Armed with a Synod education that is further bolstered by a few years of personal experiences, she has an above-average understanding of the theory of magic (though, much to the frustration of her tutors and the disappointment of her family, is completely and thoroughly useless when it comes to actually casting spells) and can boast quite the repository of knowledge on all things Daedric, including the ability to read Daedric runes. On the more practical end of the spectrum, the frivolous Nibenese can be quite handy in a tight spot, too; while by no means a master, she knows her way around a few types of weapons, most prominently being a good shot with her crossbow, and can hold her own in a fistfight - so long as she isn't expected to actually stand still and take any blows herself.

Clothing/Armour: Ever since coming to Skyrim, the Nibenese has made a habit of going around dressed in enough layers to do an onion proud. A blouse of faded blue, padded for protection against blunt trauma, and somewhat baggy brown pants are paired with knee-high tough leather boots, reinforced with steel around the toes and another plate of steel sewed onto the right one to protect her shin. Further, the mercenary is also clad in a steel briastplate to protect the front of her body, along with a fingerless leather glove over her left palm. Said glove has a slim green gem into its side, which has a faint, cold glow - an unmistakeable hallmark of enchanted equipment, this particular piece serving the purpose of augmenting Leandra's physical strength. Of late, she has taken to covering this ensemble with a fairly unremarkable, dark brown woolen trenchcoat, going down to her knees.

This, however, is where things start getting a little unusual. The right sleeve of this coat quite clearly does not match the left - and not only just in colour, being of a slightly lighter shade of brown; no, what tends to raise more eyebrows is the fact it seems to hide a bloated and misshapen lump that is a good deal thicker than her left arm, in addition to having a small, gently steaming brass pipe sticking out of the shoulder. And this pipe is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg, for what hides in the sleeve is a mess of tubes, pistons and clamps, descending from a clunky Dwemer pauldron (the source of the afore-mentioned pipe) down her entire arm until it attaches itself to an equally clunky gauntlet that clearly also has its origins with the Deep Elves of yore.
Weapons: As any mercenary worth their salt (and a good few others who aren't), Leandra never leaves home (err, temporary residence) without her armament. A typical straight http://images.uesp.net/0/03/MW_Weapons_Shortswords.jpg (fourth from the right), the sort often favoured by Legionnaires in the east, is her primary close combat weapon, accompanied by a steel dagger with silvered edges - the "Just In Case", as the Nibenese refers to it herself. Those are merely sidearms, however, compared to the heavy Dwemer crossbow (lovingly referred to as "Veronica", or simply "Vera" for those more intimate moments that they share) that is undeniably the centerpiece of her armoury; a somewhat unusual weapon that packs quite a punch and features a drum of twelve bolts rather than the usual single-bolt capacity of your average crossbow, Veronica seems to have come from the same place as the augmentations infesting Leandra's arm.
Miscellaneous items: In addition to the backpack slung usually over her shoulder, which contains such basic but all-important supplies as food and water (and occasionally wine), Leandra also carries a few other items of interest. Tied firmly to her belt is a slightly clunky silver locket whose lid is engraved with the symbol of the Synod; around her neck is a second, smaller locket, this one with a plain lid but holding a masterfully painted miniature image of the White Gold Tower and the surrounding countryside within. On a more practical note, also typically hanging from the Daedra Hunter's belt is a spare drum of bolts for Vera.

Personality: To call Leandra "odd" would be a bit of an understatement. Though possessed of a wonderful memory, the Nibenese pays for it by being plagued with unusual thought patterns that range from simple fickleness to what may well be considered full-blown madness - and go on to cover nearly everything in-between. Pile on top of that her characteristic wild, unpredictable mood swings, a truly Nibenese lack of inhibitions of the more intimate sort, her rather meandering manner of speech and the occasional spot of auditory and olfactory hallucinations, and it becomes obvious that her psyche has not escaped being marked by the dangerous lifestyle she's chosen for herself.
Major flaw: Unfortunately for the young adventurer, "potent" is not all that the Dwemer contraption clinging to her right arm is - it's also moody and possessed of quite the independent streak. Not even Leandra herself (who may well be the only person in the world to have even the slightest clue as to the inner workings of her augmented arm's cogitators) can ever be sure that this most unusual of her features will behave when she needs it to; the mechanism's actions can range from sincerely helpful to wildly hostile, including bending her arm in ways it was never meant to go - which, of course, inevitably ends with things (read: her bones) breaking.

Background: Hailing from the ranks of the ancient Nibenese battlemage magocracy, Leandra had the regrettable misfortune of being the seventh of eight children - which, while nowhere near as tragic as it would have been had she been born a commoner, still left her with remarkably little in the way of fortune to inherit. The best she could expect was to be palmed off to the Synod at an early age, afforded a splendid (if overly arcanely inclined) education by her parents' riches; but while all of her siblings could claim at least some vestige of magical talent (most notably, her eldest brother serves with distinction as a Legionary Battlemage to this day, while the third-oldest of the current Lavidian generation enjoys a comfortable existence as the court-witch of Evermore in High Rock), things stubbornly refused to start looking up for the soon-to-be adventurer. As time passed, it became increasingly more obvious that her talent for the theoretical aspects of spellcraft would forever be outweighed by an utter lack of practical skills, making it only a matter of time until either she, her parents, or her tutors gave up.

Leandra turned out the first to crack. One sunny morning no less that eight years ago, the young noble turned up on the doorstep to her parents' summer mansion, informing them that she was leaving and that she'd appreciate some coin to get her on her way. Only too eager to push her out into the world to make something of herself, they obliged, and thus it came to be that this particular scion of the illustrious House Flavius would spend the next few years of her life wandering the width and length of Tamriel.

EDIT NO.2: Boom, post is up. Huzzah productivity (of a sort, anyway).

[carly mcdonough]

Yay, the RP has started!

Now, homework for all of you while me and PFA get the ball rolling..does anyone have any clue what day, or even what month we were on when we finished before? Would be mega useful.

[Jeffrey Lawson]

AyumiFan is the master of time, I'm sure she knows the answer. She did say in this particular OOC-thread that it is currently fredas 21st last seed, but if she means current as in right now after the skip, or current, as in what we left with, I do not know.

[Ash]

What all jobs are available and/or need filled? I'm interested in making a character.

[Ashley Campos]

These are the positions that are filled:

Jarl
Court Mage
Blacksmith
Alchemist
Lumberjack
Farmer
Mason/Carpenter
Innkeeper
Daedra Hunter / Mercenary
Mage
Captain of the Guard

Thief

Some positions that aren't filled anymore:

General Store owner
Guard

Jarl's scribe
Miner ( )
Diplomat/Emissary/Spy from the Empire/Stormcloaks
Priest
Smuggler
Fisherman

These are just some that we miss from the last chapter, but anything else you can think of, is available.

By the way, feel free to add this list (or a better one) to the OP, Ayumi. This should come in handy.

[James Baldwin]

[Suzy Santana]

Who say's I'm not still around?

[maddison]

Fixed!

[matt white]

Ahem... in Chapter Two I hereby declare the date to be Tirdas 23rd of Hearthfire.

[Jay Baby]

Oh, since this is restarting, might as well post this little snippet of something I was writing to introduce Varyn's back story through the eyes of young boy who meets Varyn for the first time at Valton. Only had the first few paragraphs written, and it's been about 4 months since I started it, but I plan on finishing it eventually.

Might even enter him as a character.

Spoiler

Cameron flipped the stick in the air once more as he walked down the leaf littered path, letting it spin weightless in the air for a moment. With grace it flicked about in the air, twisting with the tune he whistled. It was a simple trick that required little if no concentration from the wiry young Breton, as could be seen in the particular way he carried himself - his small chin held high and slender shoulders let back . After all, he was Cameron of Valton, magician extraordinaire and master of the arcane. Mundane tasks such as this were second nature to him, his true talent accomplishing much more. Well, perhaps it did take more concentration than he thought, and perhaps said titles were just that; words with no true purchase in reality. Before he could recite a spell of slow fall, which he surely knew, albeit couldn't recall, his foot found a covered root, and, consequentially, his face ventured forth to examine the ground in detail, a scientific endeavor no doubt. At least that is how it would be told in his words. In truth, the young Breton went tumbling to the ground in a quite ungracious manner. The stick clattered into the leaves a few paces down the path, and Cameron, amateur of parlor tricks and master of naught, pushed himself back to his feet, dusting the bits of dirt from his linen breeches. With a disheartened sigh, he picked up his stick and continued on down the path towards town, preferring to forget that the entire incident had ever happened.

It was a beautiful day for a walk in the Rift. The sun was shining bright above the trees, their leaves yellowed by autumn’s cool embrace. The peaceful waters of the Treva ran next to the path, sounding off with a light trickle as they ran against the rocks. A cool breeze whispered through the forest, and on it rode the savory smell of roasting pork. It was no doubt one of Nuramon’s latest kills; few things that stalked Nirn could escape a shaft loosed by the mer’s bow. He was an expert shot if there ever was one. With the smell of seared meat on his mind, Cameron trekked down the wooded path, eager to find some way to win a slice of Nuramon’s game. After all, food, that is food of good quality, was hard to come by. No doubt that part of the problem lay in him being an orphan and, in the minds of more than a few, an all around street rat. Though it suffices to say that a few of the warmer citizens of the small hamlet called Valton had given employment or patronage to the young boy, out of pity most like, for few if none were willing to offer outright aid or compassion. His most recent host, and so far the most enjoyable, was the local inn-keeper. He was a grizzled old sailor that went by the name of Skarpi, if that was his real name; no one cared to inquire into the matter. A kind man he was, with a light heart and enough mirth to spread around. Since his arrival, the inn had acquired an air of frivolity, as if his being there encouraged mass consumption of mead and drunken comradery. Skarpi was a lively old man to say the least. He was relatively new to Valton, as was Cameron. A new hold offered a new life and, fearing that if they slowed their past would devour them as if it were Satakal, they arrived in droves, running head over heels, with whatever possessions they called their own.

Such was the nature of Valton, a sprout of timber and stone off the Treva River, inhabited by renegades, rogues, ex-mercenaries, unorthodox mages, and the once homeless persons known to wander the alleys and slums, such as the young Cameron. Though, despite any presumptions that one might have about a settlement whose population is described as such, the citizens of Valton were quite the respectable lot. After all they were there to escape their pasts so, speaking quite truthfully, Valton was not the home of renegades, rogues, ex-mercenaries, unorthodox mages, and those considered as undesirables , but the home of people, the kind that wish nothing more than to live their life unmolested by the demons of their past. Now, if that in fact changes the moral integrity of a person, well, that is a matter up to debate.

There were, however, a few folk that made the trek to Valton from honest backgrounds and families of well being. Down through the village and nestled in the outskirts of town lived one such person, three to tell the truth, counting those he named as guests, to whom he offered his hospitality till there came such a time as they could acquire necessary shelter for themselves. Those three of good character being Alguidar, owner and operator of the small farm outside of Valton, also a Nord of impeccable honor and equally stalwart attitude, Jacqueline, called Jack by most, a young Breton much like Cameron, though of much higher birth, considered a cute young girl with a chipper demeanor by most, including Cameron who had grown to be quite infatuated with her, and lastly Roymund, an Imperial Legion retiree and hunter; a good man.

It wasn’t long before the village came into sight, a conglomerate of wooden houses - their planks fresh cut and tarred. It was a quaint little town with all anyone would ever need. Peddlers and shops had sprouted up as they were needed forming a small yet adequate market. Whenever something had to be done most everyone chipped in, as any neighbor of good character would – nearly every building had been raised in such a manner. With such a small interdependent community, it was inevitable that such a tightly stitched weave would form between the residents; everyone relied on one another whether they liked it or not. Valton was a place of its own and through it permeated an air of serenity and innocence; it was a world within itself, a place set apart from happenings of Tamriel.

[Solina971]

The sribe and the priest both appeal to me, so i'll get a-brainstorming here about a character.

[Lady Shocka]

Good stuff, as always. It's just outdated now, otherwise it's also a nice introduction to Valton.