Weapons & Bones
part 1: Inconveniences in the Inn

Background: It is fall in the year 435 of the third Era, the Oblivion crisis is over and the end of the era is nearing but while the elder council is keeping the empire under control without an emperor. Hannibal Traven, Archmage of the Magesguild is facing a crisis as the Necromancers cult is gaining a foothold in Cyrodiil and they are taking actions against the Magesguild more often these days. it is rumored that the Necromancers are under the command of a strong and powerful order of necromancers. The necromancers are getting out of control and while the Archmage is trying to find a solution some have taken the job of protecting the cities of the undead, Paladins, mercenaries, priests, many find a good reason to slay the undead but some are going for higher prices, these are the true bountyhunters going after necromancers for the magesguild, who is willing to offer a good sum for important necromancers of the Order of the Worm.

Roleplay outline:

this roleplay will start in the All Saints Inn in the temple district where My character will be waiting for people who heard the rumor that he was looking for people to help him hunt for necromancers, the most logical characters would be adventuers or religious people who want to either make money or serve their gods by slaying as many undead and necromancers as they can. the roleplay will be revolving mostly around character development as the main objective IC simply is searching/chasing after an important Necromancer of the cult, getting the cash and then go to the next, suggestions for character development are for example: rookie trying to get better at his job as adventurer, character trying to convince necromancer sibling to stop before he/she get's killed or just about any subplot you can think of, Character sideplots will become about 50% of the roleplay

also as the chapter titel tells the meeting in the All Saints Inn will be met with a small fight in the streets

Rules:
Note:I've dropped the rule of "No uberness" I'll evaluate your characters, if they are balanced enough they pass. Keep in mind that you can balance a powerful weapon with a gentile personality or a cruel/fierce fighting instinct with a divine curse, be creative in your solutions and show me the secrets of Cyrodiil not revealed in the game
-No character control, No plottwists in the main story without my permission
-keep up the realism, I'll tell you when we're facing a horde that can be chopped through with little difficulty for those who like a good fast re-killing spree.
-sideplots are encouraged, try to make one with your character
-Vampires and Werewolves are forbidden, If you think you can pull it off to roleplay one in this anti undead roleplay you'll have to convince me.
-Naturally I expect the Characters sheets to be sent to me by PM so I can evaluate them for the roleplay, also you can send me a PM if you have questions
-I recommend reading the sticky roleplay guide and/ or other guides on this forum.

Character Sheet:[b]Name:[/b]Title, full name and nickname between first name and other names marked with "quotation marks" aliases at the and indicated with 'aka ...' remember that selfproclaimed names are dumb, dull and boring, specify in brief history how he/she got their names/titles and nicknames[b]Age:[/b] real age and how old they appear to be[b]Gender:[/b][b]Race:[/b][b]Birthsign[/b][b]Class:[/b] can be an existing one, keep in mind that classes are not character specific[b]Focus:[/b][b]Skills & Talents:[/b] (maximum of 7, mark the 3 best skills with *)[b]Class Description:[/b][b]General Appearance:[/b][b]Hair:[/b][b]Eyes:[/b][b]Notes:[/b]scars, tattoos and other notable things[b]General clothing:[/b]what your character normally wears[b]Additional clothing:[/b]Please specify for what situation/purpose[b]Weapons:[/b] I allow enchantments but you don't need to give specific charges, just describe how effective they are and how good the enchantments are[b]Misc. Items:[/b][b]Personality:[/b]includes habits[b]Brief History:[/b]

My character:

Name: James "Edge" Morasi, aka The Cash Paladin
Age: 28
Gender: male
Race: Imperial
Birthsign The Ritual

Class: Moon Paladin
Focus:combat
Skills & Talents:Blade*, Block, Heavy armor, Alteration*, Destruction*, Restoration, Illusion
Class Description:More nimble and athletic than the sorcerer, and better suited for spell-casting than the knight, their attacks are unpredictable. Students of combat and magic, Spellswords are spellcasting specialists trained to support Imperial troops in skirmish and in battle. Veteran spellswords are prized as mercenaries, and well-suited for careers as adventurers and soldiers-of-fortune.


General Appearance:a tall well build Imperial, strong legs and arms but not really standing out in this culture
Hair:dark blonde hair in a short haircut
Eyes: blue eyes, his right appears slightly lighter than the other
Notes:scars, tattoos and other notable things

General clothing:Orcish helmet, shoulder armor and greaves, steel boots, cuirass and special enchanted ebony gauntlets decorated with copper colored strings with thorns between the red/copper like steel alloy and the black ebony, enchanted with a shield spell and a fireball spell that will damage flesh and mana
Additional clothing: when he is in the city for longer then a night's stay he will store his armor and wear a white shirt, brown vest, black coat and dark brown trousers and brown shoes.
Weapons: a silver/glass claymore, highly decorated handguard and wavy, plantlike paterns crawling up the blade which is made out of light blue ice-like glass in the top half and the core completely while silver on the lower half 2/3 of the blade covering both edges, it is enchanted with a powerful ice/fire enchantment combo but like the gauntlets he wears in only works at night
Misc. Items:he travels light: in his backpack he keeps his food (2 to 4 days with jerky and bread, he tries to find fruit each day outside) his maps (map of Colovia, Tamriel, Skyrim and North Cyrodiil, Cryodiil overall map) and his survival suplies (tent canvas, ropes, woodenpins, sticks, tinderbox) and he keeps his gold in a pouch and in a secret stash

Personality:James in a kind, gentile person, but he is also battle hardened and sometimes stubborn, at first sight he appears like a rough guy but his intentions are these days more noble and although takes time before really trusting someone he is loyal to friends. In battle he enjoys chopping down the zombies and skeletons that get in his path and he loves watching the bones fly around when he gives a big blow to a skeleton (yes the personality will get more developed throughout the roleplay)
Brief History:
he has been a mercenary for nearly 10 years since he joined a group of colovian mercenaries when he was 18, it was tough working but because they worked as a group contracts were relatively easy and James had friends who tought him the tricks of the job. in his time as the rookie opf the group he was givven the nickname Edge flame, or Edge for short, because he wielded a claymore and a nasty firespell which he often combines in a flaming strike, edge sticked, he always was religious and could become very dangerous against necromancers and undead and he became known as the Cash Paladin because as a mercenary for hire he was quite expensive but also very succesful against undead minnions.

18 months ago when he was on his way from Bravil to the Imperial City he took a shortcut through the woods and foound a wayshrine, at the wayshrine he wanted to pray but he found at the altar the gauntlets and the claymore he now wields, with them lay a note adressed to him simply telling him the following:

To James Morasi,
We knew you would arive here and we want you to take these artifacts, use them as you see fit, you know what you are required to do

a strange note no doubt, but when it disolved into light and then fell apart in tiny shining lights that blew away he knew something mystical was ging on, without even knowing why he knew it was a gift from the gods, and he indeed knew how to use the gauntlets and the claymore and he almost instandly left the group of mercenaries to begin a new life as true paladin of the Nine divines and the two moons Masser and Secunda, although he doesn't realy know how to be a proper paladin he is doing the best he can.

Sorry I don't have enough time to fit this in due to physics coursework that has today been sprung upon me

sorry to bump but I spent quite a lot of time writing this.
I'm not going to bother people with Invites but I really want this to get going, it's got more then plenty of story and more then plenty of freedom for characters, heck I'll even allow Old Blood characters for those who remember that chapter of roleplaying here.

Caught my eye too, I have been looking for something to revel in, I will just finish my English coursework and get a sheet to you.

intresting. I've always wanted to play in a Necromancer style RP. Sadly, the two Necromancer RP's I've made didnt do very well. I will work on a character sheet.

As a newbie RPer, I have but one Character Sheet, and I have used it for this RP. I am also rather unimaginative, so it'll be a while before I write a new one. Oh well, some experience is required, and I can't wait until this one starts up!

I should point out that you can put your aprovved charactersheet up in the topic (better edit it in that last post)
If you have any questions ask me or one of the other experienced roleplayers here (FC4, Adeth, Uglius MaximusII to name a few) I'm sure they would not mind giving answers.

Opening IC post:

a little stream of water ran down the cavern floor from the entrance while the wooden door violently was slammed against the rocks every few moments as the wind regained it's grip on the old door, outside strong winds and heavy rainfall raged across the Heartlands. deeper inside the almost vacant halls of Sinkhole cave a dark figure sat close to a small campfire at a table drinking tea and resting from a long journey with little rest, thinking about the problems that would follow, and with half of the necromancer's minnions it was unlikely that the persueing paladin would stop now. with a sigh the necromancer tried to rest more this night and find strenght for the journey north, unaware of how close that paladin was...

-Klank-

The heavy wooden door of the Inn closed loudly as another man entered after his work was done for the day. It was fall and rain poured down in the dark streets of th Imperial citylit only by a few streetlamps at the streetcorners, it was evening but the thick layer of clouds above the city made it seem like it was laready past 11 o'clock instead of just a quarter past 7.
"Always so damn cold, why can't we have warmer rain like the southern islands have? I'm sure the magesguild could do that..." The breton complained as he arrived soaking wet in the All Saints inn, a friend of his already at the bar "Yeah, and they could make the warm snow for Bruma while they're at it!" the dunmer added mocking "sit down and take a mead to warm up, jusst be happy you got out the rain for tonight" The breton joined him and started talking about his job at the city docks in the Waterfront District.
Meanwhile the mercenary James was warming up in the Inn aswell. Near the fire he sat with a rather odd appearance for the cityfolk, clad in armor on his shoulders and knees while his cuirass, boots and other pieces of armor were placed in front of him to dry the inside.
he had already spread a rumor of his plan to hunt down the necromancers for the magesguild a few days ago, surely some adventuers would be interested to join in on the quest, the guild offered enough gold for live necromancers, the oly problem was that most Necromancers these days had a small horde of undead to protect them so not many necromancers were turned in by adventuers. But in a city as large as the imperial capital there were enough adventuers crazy enough to join the new pladin on his quest to destroy the forces of darkness.

Name: Kah'Zaraki, though he is often referred to as Kah or Zaraki, he much prefers it if people call him by his full name.
Age: 26.
Gender: Male.
Race: Khajiit.
Birthsign: The Steed.

Class: Martial Artist.
Focus: Combat.
Skills & Talents: Hand to Hand and Block are his only real talents, though he can handle a blade and shoot a bow, he prefers not to.
Class Description: With no magical or weaponry aid, the Martial Artist focuses on harnessing the birth given body to aid them in winning a fight, harnessing the body to become the ultimate battle machine. Though the Martial Artist often focuses on self discipline and control when fighting, Kah'Zaraki's interests are far from controlled.

General Appearance: Strong, tall and powerful, muscles emanate from under his thick coat of dark fur, his long snout and razor sharp teeth are certainly a force to be reckoned with, and his piercing claws aid him well in battle.
Hair: His entire body covered in thick matted fur, the darkest shade of black. His mane is too, unkempt and ratted with knots and tangles spread throughout.
Eyes: Red piercing eyes glow from beneath the fur, often narrowed or squinted Kah'Zaraki appears an evil character, but knowing this he often uses it to intimidate opponents.
Notes: Scars, something Kah'Zaraki certainly doesn't lack, fierce battles and epic fights have played there part on the young cats hardened body, and the reminder of each encounter lay embedded into the rough fur.

General clothing: Zaraki will rarely wear much clothing, seeing even a shirt an unnecessary burden in a fight. Matching his fur, the black, loose fitting legs, torn and scratched from various fights, the pure white lion symbol of his past guild emboridered onto the left leg.
Weapons: Using no weaponry to aid him in battle, he uses only what he was blessed with at birth, his hand and feet are both equally equipped with razor sharp claws and his nasty set of jaws are great for close situations. Though despite these god given bonuses, Kah'Zaraki mainly uses his arms and legs to inflict damage onto his opponents with lashing kicks and rapid punches he is still a worthy adversary to even an armed man.
Misc. Items: Kah'Zaraki carries with him at all times a map of the region he may be in, usually bought from the local inn, as well as a few herbs and plants he has collected on the route to any town, though not a fan of Alchemy, he is well aware of the money it brings. He will also often carry a small amount of gold.

Personality: Though despite his calm and silent appearance at first Kah'Zaraki is headstrong and confident, though with no lack of power, Zaraki is not invincible, something he claims himself to be, and although it is not his intention he is often viewed to be boasting. Kah'Zaraki loves a challenge, taking pleasure in someone backing him into a corner and having to fight his way out, wanting the more powerful enemy to step up their game, so that he can try to overcome them, despite their superiority. He takes much pleasure in pain and injury, claiming that sometimes the scars themselves are the lessons of life left permanently on your mind, and that you have not truly won a fight if the enemy cannot do as much as lay a cut in your flesh. Kah'Zaraki takes pleasure from any conflict, minimising his power to savour the feeling, the adrenaline and the fury that runs through him during a battle.

Brief History:
Born into a long line of trained Martial Arts experts, he is certainly no beginner on the subject. Though as time went on and he grew older, he began to turn against the normal code, seemingly forgetting the guidelines of discipline and control when fighting. He was, not long after his 13th birthday, exiled from the guild, he had shown extreme talent and it was a hard decision, but the injuries of the other guild members were no price to pay for such uncontrolled violence. He sought refuge in a large cave north of his home town of Border Watch. Fighting his way through to seek shelter, for years he lived, training himself, fighting beasts and bandits in the wild. By no means was he a good man, but the within the bloodthirsty, came a distorted vision of the world. Killing only for fun, and taking pleasure in any form of combat. The cave was, one day, overrun with men seeking hiding from the Imperial Guard, after many battles and for Gnarl countless losses, he was forced to leave, wondering the wild in search of a new life, something he could rule over, something he would control. He wondered into the Imperial City, the grand architecture and masses of people catching his eye, hanging around inns and bars, waiting for a fight to kick off. He had picked up the rumour from a money-grabbing beggar and had found himself seated in the warmth of the All Saints Inn before long awaiting what was supposedly a chance for war...


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In Character.

Kah'Zaraki sat quietly, tucked deep into the corner of the Inn, shadowed by the darkness around him. He was watching the room, its inhabitants, and the way that they behaved. He had been sure that this was the Inn, and if it wasn't, that beggar was in trouble. Unsure of what, or who he was searching for he scanned the room eager to find out who would start this 'man' that the beggar had briefly spoken of. He was sure he was not after the two men seated, loudly conversating about the weather at the bar to his right. The fire glowed, emitting an aurora of warmth. A single man sat beside it, head to toe in thick heavy armour, with yet more armour and a few weapons placed before him on the oaken table. 'Perhaps he was the one', with all those weapons it was certain he could equip a small army, and in his colossal armour he seemed ready.

Kah'Zaraki made his way closer, out of the shadows, but yet unnoticed it seemed. He sat close behind the seemingly young man, an Imperial, Kah'Zaraki could make out from his athletic build. From sat behind him Zaraki couldn't see much of his face, yet only his dark blonde hair, that reflected the light of the fire making it appear lighter than it really was.

"Excuse me" The Khajiit whispered almost silently into the mans ear, his rasping accent sounding deep and to anyone caught unaware possibly scarey. "Are you hear looking for someone?" Kah'Zaraki continued without waiting for a response. He sat back in his chair, acting as if he had said and done nothing, awaiting the Imperial's answer.

Character Sheet:

Name: Rakid Rakillius. (Sounds Imperial to me)
Age: 22, and looks...22
Gender: Male
Race: Imperial
Birthsign: The Thief. (Lucky me... )

Class: Assassin.
Focus: Stealth.
Skills & Talents: *Alchemy, *Sneak, *Shortblade, Light Armour, Security, Marksman Speechcraft
Class Description: Not too strong, yet subtle, and charming. Amiable to say the least and good with words.


General Appearance: Shorter than your average Imperial, slender and toned.
Hair: Medium Brown
Eyes: Dark Brown
Notes:Crescent shaped scar above right eye, impaired vision in said eye.

General clothing: Dark green hooded-shirt, Black leather greaves, boots and Gauntlets
Additional clothing: Nothing remarkable, not in the habit of wearing the hood up too often...
Weapons: Elven shortsword (black matte paint blade with Hist-wood Hilt. Glass Throwing Knives.
Misc. Items: Ring of the Void Gazer (Nighteye). Alchemy kit, Recipe book for various poisons/potions. Small pouch of gold.

Personality: Friendly, Optimistic and devoted to the worship of Sithis. Not Immoral, more Amoral.
Brief History: Lived in the city of Vivec, where he learned the art of pickpocketing, and sneaking through the sewers. many run-ins with Daedric worshippers have honed his fear and hatred for all forms of magicka. Schooled in alchemy at Wolverine Hall, Vvardenfell. In the many years he lived in Vvardenfell he gained much respect for the people, making Dark Elves his favored type of Mer. Holds High and Wood elves in lesser regards. Trained his Marksman on Cliffracers around Red Mountain (Which also helped his immunity to Blight, having spent so much time around it. Wanted by the Morag Tong after the discovery of his affiliation with the Dark Brotherhood.

In Character
Rakid (as he likes to be known) sat unnoticed in the corner of the All Saint's Inn. His clothes soaked and his hair dripping onto his face which made the most unpleasant and irritating feeling. What shall transpire tonight? he pondered. As in every situation like this (where patience was required) he took the liberty of meditating, and channeled his thoughts to reach the Void. A little trick he picked up in his short 3 months of Dark Brotherhood employment. Short, yet profitable... he thought as he looked at his prized shortsword. Elven craftsmanship, with Dunmeri and Argonian materials. Perfection. The Ebony in which the blade itself consisted of was but a fraction of the price he had to pay. The most expensive materiel was the Hist-wood hilt. With this the blade is now sentient, but seems quiet, either that or Rakid simply cannot hear it. Well worth 3 months wages... he thought to himself. Walking over to the bar, to whet his thirst he checked the remainder of his money. 19 drakes, Brilliant But his current contract was to be the most lucrative one yet, enough to pay for ANOTHER blade of equal quality to the one he already owns. It seems that a member of the Mages Guild worked up the courage to perform the Black Sacrament, and thus condemn some stupid necromancer to certain death. The amount of gold placed on this contract was so great that no questions were asked, and the contractor should; "consider this necromancer dead." The Black Hand knew of Rakid's current financial crisis, and set upon him to perform the assassination. Again, no questions were asked. So, he thought here I am, waiting for more of a clue as to who I am looking for. That Imperial by the fire doesn't look to be much of a spellcaster, more a knight or warrior, and the Khajiit who just walked in looks...I wish I could say harmless, but he doesn't... nevertheless He doesn't look like a spellcaster either. Wait, the Khajiit is approaching the Imperial, and just whispered something in his ear... He decided to put his money away, silently cursing himself for not bringing a change of clothes, and pulled up a chair beside the Imperial, to dry his saturated attire.

Character Sheet:

Name: Isildur
Age: 100; appears to be 20
Gender: Male
Race: Half-elven; born to an Imperial father and a Bosmer mother
Birthsign Thief

Class: Servant of the Greater Good
Focus: Stealth
Skills & Talents: Speechcraft, Sneak*, Marksman*, Light Armour, Short Blade, Acrobatics*, Athletics
Class Description: Not focused on power, but very stealthy, and a master with the bow. Is also very agile, and can dodge an arrow in mid-flight. Has a silver tongue, and can run fast.


General Appearance: Average height, slender and scrawny.
Hair: Dark Brown, medium length, loose hair. Clean shaven.
Eyes: Dark Brown, deep and impenetrable.
Notes: Has a scar on his right temple and a tattoo on his left forearm, with the symbol

General clothing: He wears black mithril mail underneath his black cloak, both of the make of the Wood Elves. His cloak allows him to blend in with his surroundings (let's say it has about 60 chameleon), and has a hood that shadows his face.
Additional clothing: N/A
Weapons: An enchanted longbow of the make of the Bosmer. It is made from yew, and is enchanted with a flame enchantment powerful enough to set a wet tree on fire. He also has, for backup, a glass dagger.
Misc. Items: He has his mother's amulet, as a token of her and his family's murder.

Personality: He is generally quite grim and serious, but can easily talk a skilled merchant into a substantially lower price, or almost anyone for that matter. He, however, does have a joyful side, and can be quite happy and laugh easily. He has a habit of singing songs
Brief History: Isildur lived in the woods of Valenwood as a child with his mother. They had a peaceful and happy life, until, when 50, his mother was murdered by Orc marauders. Because of this, he harbours a great hatred of Orcs, and kills anyone who attempts to murder. 10 years ago, after 40 years of seeking, he found the Orc band that killed his mother, and slew all of them, except the leader, who, he has heard, has started a new band of marauders. He now travels around Cyrodiil hunting bandits and marauders, and ever looking for news of this Orc.

In Character
Isildur sat alone and unnoticed in the corner of the All Saint's Inn. His hood shadowed his face, but not his sight. He looked around the loud, crowded Inn, searching for something to catch his interest or some interesting news to overhear. He saw a Khajiit get up from his seat to whisper something in an Imperial's ear. He stood up from his seat and walked over, hardly seen, to eavesdrop on the conversation.

Wait.....this young Imperial looks unpleasant. A young Imperial was seated next to the Khajiit. He noticed the hilt of a shortsword sticking out from the young man's belt. Hist, if I know my trees. But doesn't the Dark Brotherhood have a monopoly on Hist exports? He looked again at the small Imperial. He looked ready-made for work in the Dark Brotherhood. But my quarrel is not with the Dark Brotherhood, evil though they be. Even so, he gripped his dagger hilt hard, and struggled not to take it from its sheath and stab the Imperial in the back.

His attention turned back to the conversation. He drew an unused chair from the bar, sat down, and started listening.

Mutualmurder, I know you are newso I won't kick you out just now, but try to read the rules a bit better next time.
I'll let you join but it is a kind of custom here to first send the charactersheet to me for aproval.

and sorry but since I only got about 10 minutes to chekc up on my sites the IC post wil have to wait

Also I should note that all corners have been filled by now, talk about common openings: you three all opened the exact same way

Soz Cirith
Ill read the rules better next time :read:

Character Sheet:

Name: Luthor "Laru" Franz
Age: 39 (appears 40)
Gender: male
Race: Imperial
Birthsign The Ritual

Class: Master of Arkay (high ranking warrior preist of Arkay)
Focus: Carrying out of the will of Arkay, fighting in and leading groups of the "Knights of the Circle"
Skills & Talents: Heavy Armour*, blunt*, speechcraft* conjuration, athletics, restoration,
Class Description:
A master in the order of Arkay is a formidable warrior, orator, and healer. Master's will have amassed many skills, depending on their sub-branch in the order. A Master such as Luthor will have spent many years in many of the differnt branches of the order, but has gravitated to that of combat against the foes of Arkay,which explains his combat oreintated skills.

General Appearance: Average height and grith, he has the appearance of being worn away at by nature, leaving only skin, bone and muscle.
Hair: Closely cropped dark brown hair, no facial hair
Eyes: brown eyes
Notes: the symbol of the order of Arkay tattooed onto his right arm. It is a black box, with a diagnol blue box interweaving, and a gold ankh. He has one scar going from his right ear to his chin.

General clothing: full Dwarven armour with no Helmet. He will only wear the helmet in combat The armour is enchanted to turn the undead, and when the wearer is disabled, a mild shock spell occurs when anyone touches it.
Additional clothing black robes, for when not wearing his Armour.
Weapons: A finely crafted Ebony war axe, with a steel enforced wooden handle. The axe has been enchanted to inflict a momentary blindness on the target.

Misc. Items:
Luthor does not travel light. He carries various kinds of dried meat and bread with him, along with three canteens of Water. Besides that, he carries with him a leather canvas for a tent, a bedroll, a woodaxe, a blade sharpener, a map of cyrodil, a book of Arkay, and a pouch of septims.
Personality: Luthor is, despite his "old" age, still energetic. He is infused with a unquenchable thrist for Knowledge and excitement. He belives only in right or wrong, and belives that using anything made by the enemy is equivalent to joining them. Luthor trys to be helpful and calm, but after a while, will eventually sink into anger, lasting for several hours or days. Before a battle, he will make himself angery, turn all his emotions and bad memories into hate, and hurl himself into the battle, utterly destroying his foes, before he returns to his regular, anolyzing helpful self.
Brief History: His parents where murdered by Undead creatures, raised by a Necromancer at when Luthor was an early age. He was found by members of the Order of Arkay, and has lived with the and served with the Order for 34 years.


IC:

The wooden door creaked as it opened, and in walked a man, decked out head to toe in full Dwemer platemail. As he walked in, the door closed with a loud noise. Water dripped from his armour, and he approached the table where four men gathered. An Imperial, with large amounts of equipment spread out, behind him a Kahjit was speaking. Then, their was an Altmer, who appered to be wearing the equipment of a Bosmer. And finally, a Imperial that made his blood boil. From the very looks of him, it screamed Dark Brotherhood. It also screamed out "I worship Sithis!".

Curling his lip in disgust at the assassian, he removed his helmet and held it in the crook of his arm.

"I assume that you are the one leading this hunt against Necromancy?"
He spoke to the first Imperial.

Name: Charon Graevis aka The Desolate one
Age:32, you couldn't tell his age by his looks
Gender:Male
Race:Imperial
Birthsign:the shadow

Class:Ravager-his stealthy close-quarters fighting
Focus:close combat
Skills & Talents:Short blade*, acrobatics, light armor*, athletics, Illusion, long blade*, sneak
Class Description:weilding concealed blades (Up his arm sleeves or with his baldes ravagers are assassin's who take a more direct approach.


General Appearance: around 6' and about 190 lbs Charon has a lean build, and light grey eyes, his head is shaven and a scroll work tatoo sprawls from his neck up the side of his face and around his eye
Hair:none
Eyes:light grey
Notes:the facial tatoo along with many light scars that criss cross his chest

General clothing:normaly a black with purple trimmed cloth armor, the cloth is alot tougher than one wopuld think, reminding most people of a soft-to-the-touch leather the cloth (think asassin's chest peice from fable) his pants are made of the same material but with red cloth trailing from the back down to behind his knees his boots are black and made of hard leather, his hands are wraqed in leather bounds and his face is covered up to the mouth by the chest piece

Additional clothing:a pair of black leather riding boots, a pair of black trimmed with blue silk pants, a grey silk shirt with a long red velvet coat

Weapons: the tai'dashars ( large blades that are concealed under his clothe's arms they extend forth by a certain movement, a scimitar made of fine silver that is traced with a scrollwork (scimitar is enchanted with a medium sized frost enchantment) allso two falchions made of silver (Both enchanted with moderate frost enchantments)

Misc. Items:a pipe,a few potions of heal himself and a medium sized bag filled with gold coins

Personality:quite, but funny. confident in his stride Charon has been trying to be a better person for some time now, doing charity work among the districts, destroying monster dens, hearing about the necromancers Charon figures it a way to help further his repention.
Brief History:Charon was an initiate for the divine nine, but he fell into worshiping Mehunes Dagon while upon a quest, after a dispute with other priests of Mehunes Dagon Charon left the order and has been trying to repent for his sins through actions, the countless innocents he butchered have made him realize he has much to atone for.Charon was titled the Desolate one by fellow Mehune's prists, for his want to go on missions alone,and his emotionless killingings.

Out Of Character: Wow. I can't believe the utter plagiarism Myself and mutualmurderer commited lol we all started the EXACT same way as Arathorn. Spot the newbies. No offense, (MutualMurder) Ah, well.

In Character
The inn was growing busier by the second. Rakid looked at the many new faces, quite a few colourful people are here tonight, and something tells me they aren't regulars. He looked around, noting the many people clad in light armour, and the amount of people with shortblades subtley tucked away into intricate folds. He couldn't help but notice someone admiring his Hist hilted blade, but also couldn't fail to notice that this person didn't look happy to see him, as if he had previously been inconvieninced by Rakid... Ridiculous idea... An Imperial clad in Dwemer armour approached the Imperial Rakid first noticed, the one with the expensive looking equipment and inquired about the necromancer hunt. At least now I know that it isn't a wild Guar chase... he thought. Feeling sufficently dry and dignified, he seconded the middle aged Imperials inquiry, "If anyone in this Inn looked like a Necro-Hunter, it would be you, Imperial. You have the eyes of a spell-caster." There, now that the leader of the Hunt has been rightfully Identified, we can begin the briefing and be on our merry way, He thought, triumphantly. Smiling he looked at the two armour clad Imperials, hoping they returned his smile. I am, after all, a rather polite servant of Sithis. he said to himself.

OOC: i dont know your procedure for npc's so the post is short.

IC:
Charon entered the random Inn in this random town, he had no specific reason for him to be here,Repent? YOU? you will come crawling back to the shadows, Dont worry Desolate one,I'll allways embrace you. "Quiet!" Charon said loud enough to make a near by Maid flinch as she walked by. He made his way to the Bar and waved over the bartender.

IC:
Isildur listened to the conversation between the Khajiit and the Imperial. A newcomer had arrived, clad in Dwemer armour, and had joined the talk. He listened intently to their conversation. Necromancer hunts, that's what it is! Well, no necromancer will be safe once we have a good company. And that includes me. He got up from his bar stool, and walked over to the Imperial.
"Greetings. I hear you're the leader of a necromancer hunt. My name is Isildur. I know this land better than any else you are likely to eat. I am willing to join your company. Will you take me?"

Sorry, out of character:

I'm confused as to where everyone has gotten the idea of a coversation between me and Cirith's character. I simply whispered in his ear.. :confused: And the eagerness for the corners made me laugh

OOC: never mind that, things might go slowely since I'm in the middle of a mild writer's block, I've tried to post 5 times without a good result (I'm very easy to be displeased if I don't reach proper length in a post)

IC: the Khajiit's whisper caught James by suprise but he didn't show it, quickly he recovered and without turning to face the Khajiit he said "Depends on whether you want to fight for gold or not... stick around and you'll get the details" he said as he was approached by a man in full dwemer armor asking wether he could join the hunt "Ofcourse, take a seat I'll explain"he told him, then turned to the shadowy figures in the corner including the Khajiit "anyone else interested come over here and I'll explain the plan"


OOC: I'm really in the need of inspiration, such a short solution and it took me six tries

catching talk of hunting Evil beings Charon's temper slightly lightened at the chance to repent HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! He crossed to the trio talking about hunting. "Would you count me in?" Charon asked in his typical deep quiet voice.

Kah'Zaraki was intrigued by the Imperials response, he had not expected for him to be so calm, but Zaraki did want the cash, and more so the chance to fight. He stayed put, acting on the given advice and waiting for what seemed to be a large conference to begin. He was disappointed at the large interest in the deal, 6 men including himself. It seemed a lot, but he didn't know what they would be doing, whatever it was he hoped there would be enough left for him.

From the characters revealed so far, he seemed the quietest and perhaps one of the least daunting, each of the other men, armed with obvious weapons. Still anolysing his possible comrades his eyes fell on the shortest Imperial, a scar lay across his eye and at his belt hung a gleaming sword. It seemed valuable, but the worth was not in Zaraki's interest. He had recognised the Imperial straight away as a member of the Dark Brotherhood, perhaps the sword a spoil of a contract. Zaraki had often considered joining the Black Hand, though the thought of stealth kills seemed to him rather cowardly.

His trail of thought was broken, a deep booming voice echoed across to where he and the 'leader' Imperial were seated. "Would you count me in?" Kah'Zaraki was unsure of what he meant, how he knew that this was a meeting puzzled him and more so how he and the other men knew that the Imperial sat before Zaraki was the leader. Nevertheless the cat sat still awaiting the next move, just as he had been advised by the Imperial.

IC:
Rakid smiled. Progress at last, he thought. "Greetings my fellow hunters. I am Rakid Rakillius, you may call me Rakid. And I am here to kill some necromancers, it seems we have a merry band of would-be adventurers! I have introduced myself, how about we all become better acquainted? You, sir, I presume you are the one leading this hunt?" Rakid asked the Imperial with the Orcish armour and the exquisite ebony gauntlets. Looks like we are being paid handsomely, if it is coming out of his pocket, and with the contract's fulfilment, I shall be a rich bastard! I might be able to buy a bow to match my sword, maybe a dagger as well... "And I presume you are the one with the award of gold upon completion of our task, as well. Or is that coming from the Mages' Guild?" Rakid questionned further

Out of Character:
There Cirith, may those questions cure your writer's block.

James chuckled a bit at first "Merry Would-be-adventurers? that's a way to call it" but he quickly became seriosu and went on to business "bountyhunting isn't that simple, I don't know if you have experience with Necromancers but I'd say you haven't ever encountered a pissed off necromancer: these guys are powerful magicians with a large arsenal of curses, hexes and spells and to make things worse they are usually acompanied by a small horde of undead minions, alone you would have little chance of surviving, which is why I want to start this hunting party, If you can work like a team and won't bother wiht a bounty shared this might be something for you, if not... well I'll just leave you to your own business" hegot up to pick up his remaining armor pieces and put them in the bag next to his seat and turned to face the men "the price for a necromancer is 1200 goldpieces, and with another 800 drake bonus if we bring 'em back alive for interrogation. We'll split the bounty equally, in a group we will need to capture more necromancers to get a decent amount of gold but atleast you got someone to save your life. so? still in for the hunt?"

Charon nodded to the man named James Oh you have seen many necromancers havent you Desolate one? you have skinned them alive for disobeying you havent you? Charon frowned for a minute,before quickly masking it. in his deep gruff voice he stated a simple question. "When do we start?"

I'd post, but I'm still waiting confirmation from Cirith...