Fantasy The Elder Scrolls V: A New Rule || Characters

[Ms. Sparrow]

IC thread  <--- link (delete that)


(A like means your accepted, if something is marked with * it's optional)


                  Character sheet


Name:


*Nickname:


Race:


Gender:


Age:


Apperance (Please have it be a picture, I'm hoping for a Skyrim picture, modded or vanilla style works, but realistic photos work too, No anime or anything else, thanks):


Items:


Occupation: 


Weapons:


Personality:


*History:


What province do you come from?(Skyrim, Black Marsh, Valenwood, etc):


Whst are your characters goals? (Become wealthy, join a guild, etc):

 

[Jellyon]

Name:


Former Officer Drenmare Enraldson


Nickname:


The White Flame


Race: Nord


Gender: Male


Age: 31


Appearance:

Items:


Stormcloak Armor


Steel Plate Gauntlets


Steel Plate Boots


Red Beret


2x Elixir of Health


3x Venison


1x Honningbrew Mead 


Weapons:


Ancient Nord Sword


Steel Dagger


Paralyze Spell


Personality:


Relentless, unyielding, and resolute. These are the main characteristics that make's up Drenmare. Throughout his humble life, he has experienced much to his tastes. Both exceptional and atrocious. With it, he has become quite the man in stone. Meaning he keeps much to himself rather than expressing to others. That's too without say he is kind in his own mysterious way deep down inside (rarely of course). Using his own drive, determination, and sharp intellect, he is able to achieve anything he sets his mind to. This makes him a capable leader. Another thing about Drenmare is that he is able to rally up those around him to sing to his cause. This just shows how ambitious he can be. Regardless, he is always dependable for any job to come. His additional love of exploration and anxiousness of curiosity has him overfilled in excitement. To spend his free time he usually likes to relax someplace quiet and either smokes a pipe, sleeps, or drinks a bottle of mead to waste the day. 


History:


Growing up in the outskirts of Windhelm, Drenmare was the son of a local farmer who ran the Hollyfrost farms. Living with a mother, loving father, and a younger sister, Drenmare had a delightful family. At a young age, he grasped the responsibility for providing the family ahead of everything else, even himself. This meant he helped do a number of challenging tasks. Including; plowing the fields, taking care of the animals, and even such things as warding off those who dared to steal from them whether it be animal or human. But as a young child, Drenmare had a hard time finding a companion to play with. He was always busy with work and never had time to do anything for himself. He knew that well rather enough. Besides the point, it was intense hard labor. At end of each following day, Drenmare would show up covered in a number of bruises, cuts, and sores all over his body. This greatly showed the amount of stress he induced over the day. Strangely enough, he never showed signs of pain or suffering. Just a simple gaze to nothingness. To soothe the pain, his mother every night would cook them up a nice meal of hot beef stew with a side of vegetables and drink. It was one of the few things that he relished that day. It was his 'so-called' best part of the day. Over the years, his body adapted to the workload and very quickly excelled his quality of work. His body became more fit with strength, developing mighty abs, calves, and even popping triceps. While he became more powerful, he was much less fatigued than he use to be. In all physical aspects, he was tough. His life continued like always, with small changes being this and that. However, civil war soon broke out. Fighting was everywhere. Blood and fire ravaged the province. For most of the time, Drenmare and his family were relatively safe. Until that fateful night, a small army of Imperial soldiers busted down the door and held his parents hostage. Both him and his sister were hiding below the floorboards peeping through, seeing what was going on. It appeared that a tip was given off about his father helping the stormcloaks, and for that, he was put to death. Without a word of defense, a greatsword cleaned right through them both. Blood splatted all over the ground, seeping through the floor. Drenmare was more than horrified of what he witnessed. Barbaric he thought. He was then full of rage rather than complete utter fear. He swore that one day he would end the empire's rule and install peace in Skyrim. As well as have revenge for his parent's deaths. They soon lived in the city of Windhelm in the local orphanage where they spend the rest of their childhoods there. Years later, he left his younger sister to join the stormcloak ranks and fight for his country. But before he left, he swore he would return soon to her again. Sadly, he disappeared that day. After a quick recruitment and training in Windhelm, he was deployed in an outpost down in the south where he was ordered to help pacify the region. He soon was promoted to an officer rank after impressing his higher-ups with his abilities. One a single evening, he was leading his fellow comrades for a patrol. But as they rode they were attacked by a dragon. Taken by surprise, most of the men died in the dragon's fire. The fight did not last very long. All was lost. As a last ditch effort, his men pushed Drenmare to escape into the forests. Even in protest, they did not hear of it. As he ran he glanced back to see the sky, it was but filled with black smoke. He clearly knew they sacrificed their lives to save him. But he could not face his fellow soldiers once more. Not with what's happened. He greatly wished that he stood back and help. In conclusion, he hid from the world. Only hiding his face from the public and drinking his memories away. (Sorry about the history. Did not have alot of time to work with. Will add/fix later. Thanks!)


What province do you come from?):


Skyrim


What's are your characters goals? (Become wealthy, join a guild, etc):


Drenmare's goal is to help free Skyrim from tyranny and install peace within the region. His side quests are still unknown up to this point.

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Name: Victoria Peterova 


Race: Wood Elf


Gender: Female 


Age: 23


Appearance: 

  Items: Her light ebony armor, Black master thieves guild armor  

m, a black hood, 113 lockpicks, bottle of human blood, potion of extended invisibility. 


Weapons: Two duel, ebony daggers, an ebony bow with 267 Ebony arrows. 


Personality: Victoria has a.... Determined personality, get in her way and she will cut you down where you stand, she obviously has a deep hatred for the Thalmor, which can make her reckless at times, she's easily irritated and angered, making her someone not to joke with, and is very straight to the point, Victoria has quiete the tongue however, and can be quite intimidating and persuasive, and makes her a manipulative person and liar. Although she hides in her serious demeanor, underneath, she's a caring, sarcastic, woman, if you grow on her, she'll eventually show that side of her, although none have lived to tell about it. 


*History: TBR


occupation: Master Thief in the Theives Guild


What province do you come from?(Skyrim, Black Marsh, Valenwood, etc): Skyrim 


Whst are your characters goals? (Become wealthy, join a guild, etc): To be permanently rid of the Thalmor. Forever...

 

[. D O V E]

 
​

Name: Eleanore the Bard // "Ely"


Race: Imperial / Werewolf


Gender: Female


Age: 22


Items: (italized means equipped)


>Lute


>dozens of lock picks


>Amulet of Mara (for religious purpose and not proposal)


>Banded Iron Armor


>Wolf Armor (when on a hunt she equips this)


>Fur Gauntlets


>Fur Shoes


>Circlet of Major Archery


Weapons:


>Enhanced Crossbow


>Steel bolts


>Dwarven daggers (2)


Occupation: Travelling bard (although she does hunt from time to time and finish a bounty)


Personality: 


Eleanore is the friendly, outgoing and quirky bard that almost every travellers venturing in Skyrim have already met. Some guards says that she's too kind for the land of Tamriel, some women says she's quite a softie and lots of men says she's a true beauty. What they don't know is everything they knew about her is just a facade- a mask to hide the face of the beast within her. The very same beast that the guard's would hear howling in the middle of the night, the same beast that causes the women to worry about their safety and the same beast that men wants to hunt down.


Province: Cyrodiil


Goals: 


To survive and keep on living peacefully.

 

[Abendrot]

 
​

Name: Jeelum-Zei


Race: Argonian


Gender: Male


Age: 34


Items:


- Bandolier


- Potions/Poisons


- Field Provisions


- Money


- Map of Skyrim


- Ring of Resist Cold (on account of Skryim's frigid climate)


Weapons:


- Argonian Machete


- Kukri


Personality: Jeelum is an optimist, a rare sight in such a dreary land like Skyrim. He has a kind heart, and while he's a mercenary by trade, he'll only take jobs he knows will benefit others. He's a calm man, laid-back and easy to befriend, and he's able to crack a good joke every now and then. He holds an unwavering loyalty to those he holds dear, which includes his companions, even though he may not admit his fondness for them outright. Even his enemies will admit that Jeelum is a skilled fighter, though the man's not one for boasting. He prefers to treat others with kindness, and is surprisingly humble about his skills and capabilities.


*History: On a rainy evening on the 23rd of Frostfall, 4E 167, an Argonian hatchling was born to two humble residents of the city of Blackrose. The father was a rather wealthy An-Xileel politician, and the mother a talented healer. Not long after the hatchling's birth, he underwent the customary naming ritual of drinking the sap from the local Hist Tree, and from that point on, the young Saxhleel was known as Jeelum-Zei. The boy had a relatively easy childhood, growing up with an insatiable curiosity. In his youth, he wanted nothing more than to see the world outside Argonia, and to become a hero of the ages. Jeelum constantly bombarded his elders with questions, and spent more time pestering foreign travelers than any other child his age.


This fascination with adventuring and glory did not go unnoticed. Jeelum's uncle, an enforcer for the Fighter's Guild, came to him on his tenth birthday offering to train him as a warrior. Jeelum's parents refused at first, not wanting their son to be put in any sort of danger. After several months of convincing, however, they allowed it, on the condition that he wouldn't be training with real weapons until he was older. They agreed. Several years passed, and while Jeelum's mother and father would've preferred to see him wait until sixteen before training, he began to do so at fourteen. His uncle would teach him the way of the sword while other Guild members helped instruct him in tactics and leadership. As it was, Jeelum had been particularly talented with the blade, which had come as a surprise to everyone, even himself really.


At the age of sixteen, Jeelum officially joined up with the Fighter's Guild with his uncle's good graces. He was a competent fighter, and listened to his superiors obediently. Travelling thoughout every corner of Black Marsh, he and his siblings-in-arms dealt with some of the deadliest creatures and bandits the province had to offer. By the time he left the Guild, he'd been raised to the rank of Warder, in charge of his own squad and helping the other guild members hone their skills whenever they could. Jeelum had been in the guild for ten years, though his reasons for leaving had come about because of, well, his ever-present wanderlust. He was not content to just explore Argonia, but to explore all of Tamriel and maybe even beyond. After leaving his beloved homeland, he traveled through Elsweyr, then through Cyrodiil and finally to Skyrim, the ancient land of the Nords.


Province: Blackrose, Black Marsh


Goals: Explore all of Tamriel

 

[LucidSol]

​

Spoiler

 
​

"Did you know skeever fat repels flesh flies, and that meat attracts skeevers? Yeah, I didn't think so."
​

 
​

 -Name-
​

Raz’Mraz 
​

 
​

-Nickname-
​

Raz the Wanderer
​

 
​

-Race-
​

Nord 
​

 
​

-Gender-
​

Female 
​

 
​

-Age-
​

27 
​

 
​

-Items-
​

Nordic Carved Armor
​

Nordic Carved  Gauntlets
​

Nordic Carved  Boots
​

Set of Tavern Clothes
​

3x Potion of Ultimate Healing
​

2x Sweetrolls
​

Amulet of Kynareth
​

 
​

-Occupation-
​

Wanderer/ Wanted Criminal (In Riften (or what's left of it) only for murder and suspected treason)
​

 
​

-Weapons-
​

Wrathe - steel sword with fire enchantment
​

Furie - steel sword with shock enchantment
​

 
​

Personality:
​

If there was only one word to describe Raz it would confident. Confident in her looks; confident in her skills; and confident in business. She is the kind of women that laughs in the face of danger, even when death is certain. Of course confidence isn't the only thing that defines her. She enjoys cracking dirty jokes and yet is oblivious when it comes to her own romance. She has a deep love of adventure and uncovering the truth behind legends, but at the same time sees no reason not to make a profit while she's at it. In fact she is always looking for a way to profit from any given situation. DON'T mistake this for greed, she is in fact an opportunist, and often gives all her money to the Temple of Kynareth in Whiterun, and trades jewels and whatever miscellaneous items she has for supplies. 
​

 
​

In addition, Raz is an incredibly snarky and sassy smooth-skin. She is very kind, but what little kindness she can express is often disguised by her harsh teasing and crude gestures. She often tries to do the right thing, trying to stay within the laws blah, blah, blah. Ain’t nobody got time for dat. Unintentionally, she can be very flirty, but this is her usually just her stating her observances. Also, despite her being nearly a master in most magic, she prefers getting bloody, armed with her twin swords, Wrathe and Furie, respectively.
​

 
​

-History-
​

Raz is now one of the very last Shadows, or under the sign of the Shadow born with the ability to become invisible. She was born and raised in Soulrest, Black Marsh. However, her parents were killed in a bandit raid before she was even a year old. She was then raised by her adopted Argonian/Saxheel father.  Instead of leaving Black Marsh, he trained her relentlessly here in hopes to train her to become an assassin. However, this failed epically. She excelled in sneaking and all things, save for actually killing the target.  

His father was furious, however, in his old age he soon died, leaving eight-year old Raz to her destiny. Raz managed to strap herself to the belly of a carriage and ended up in High Rock. However, being a Nord, she was soon driven out due to mistrust and the general hate for children. She headed north and was captured by Hagravens (or more specifically the Hags of Hagfen)… that fell in love with her for her strangeness. 

She was hated and so were Hagravens, and they accepted one another like two peas in a pod. This is where Raz learned all her magic. She was taught by the Hagraven’s and she taught them under the guise that she would one day join them as a hagraven. They used to be far more civilized, but they had fallen into regression. There was a Hagraven boy- very rare- the youngest of the flock, who chose the name Arlizaeth.

He and Raz quickly befriended one another and fell in love. But a legion of soldiers claimed that she was addled of the mind and that she was controlling them and she was scheming an attack on a nearby city. Raz and Arlizaeth both escaped, but the rest of them… were slaughtered. So in their memory, Raz with the help of her beloved, created a Wayshrine for them. They both made their way to Imperial City, with Arlizaeth disguised as a Breton. 
​

 
​

There, Raz was able to find connections but she was denied as a Moth Priest. Despite this, she snuck into the congregation and stole several scrolls. She has only ever read one scroll…. which proceeded to crumple to ashes afterwards. It was a scroll to break Vaermina’s nightmares within vampires and related creatures… Ironically, she is now plagued with these said nightmares that range from all kinds of obscenities from rendezvous-with-werewolves to be eaten alive by insects. The rest of the scrolls were lost, three of them, across Skyrim.

Raz, intrigued in the elder scrolls, picked up and was heading to Winterhold in Skyrim to contact the College because she had heard a rumor about some people finding one. Upon crossing the border into Riften, they were assaulted by Thalmor believing them to be spies or some other obscenity. Unfortunately, Arlizaeth was killed in the fray, leaving Raz to herself. After she slaughtered them all, that is.
​

 
​

She now prowls the land of Markarth, avoiding the eastern land (for bounty hunters are greedy and reallllllly want her bounty), aiding travelers and looking for necromancy rumors so that she might be able to being back Arlizaeth without him being a walking husk of a thrall. 
​

 
​

-Hails From-
​

Black Marsh
​

 
​

-Goals-
​

Finding Necromancy to completely bring back a beloved
​

 

[MimiWanKenobi1994]

Name:


Savina Rewulf


Nickname:


Sav or Vi. But she prefers Sav.


Race:


Breton- Battle Mage


Gender:


 Female


Age:


25


Appearance:


The runes etched upon Savina's face are used as protection, for good health, and quick magica regeneration. The writing is small and simple. But the most striking feature visible on the young woman would be her eyes. Naturally a brown color, Savina magically changed them to a very light green shade, to emanate a more mysterious persona. She tends to keep her eye make very dark, to intensify her green eyes. She also has a very slim and athletically toned body figure. She also favors dark robes and revealing and non revealing dresses. Savina also


Items:


-Herbs and spices used to make small healing potions when she is too weak or hurt to conjure up magic.


-maps


-diadem of protection


-gold


-lockpicks for when she's feeling exceptionally daring and adventurous. 


Occupation: 


Savina tends to adventure quite often. But when she does decide to settle in an area or town, she tends  to set up a cozy shop for potions and spells for aspiring mages and others interested in her wares. She also provides classes to young mages. 


Weapons:


Savina favors small throwing knives hidden in her attire as well as well a slim one handed sword she can easily enchant. She's also very adept with non-verbal spells. On certain occasions, she'll summon and use her magical staff. It's around five inches, black with light purple runes carved into the wood. The stone placed atop the staff is rose quartz crystal that was a family heirloom and the blade located at the bottom of it is has been sharpened to easily cut down any foe willing to oppose it's master. Though she doesn't carry a bow with her at all times, Savina is also a highly skilled archer.


Personality:


Savina is a quite perplexing young woman. With a tendency to come off as cold and mysterious, she is not as cold as she seems. Many would describe her as an enigma, but that's only because Sav hasn't allowed them to know her. Despite being analytical and calm most of the time, she has a good sense of humor. She is also very loyal and compassionate. Sometimes, it's best not to take her sarcasm to heart.


History:


Hailing from High Rock originally, Savina was the only child of two very talented outcast mages. Despite being run out from the mages guild before their daughter was born, Savina's parents were resolute in raising and teaching their daughter magic. Growing up hearing the tale of their parents forbidden love, the girl grew up in a very peaceful and loving environment. Her parents always encouraged their beloved daughter to do whatever her heart willed her to do. It was no surprise when Savina decided to leave High Rock and travel.


At the age of 15, she decided to travel where ever conflicted resided. Savina felt it was her calling to aid those in need of help, who possessed beliefs and ideals she could relate or agree with. But being so young, it was easy to take advantage of such a young girl. With youth, comes naivety. at one point in her early adventures, a dark magician managed to trick the young Savina with promises of teaching her new magic. It's a dark story, one of which Savina doesn't tell often. But because of the wounds inflicted upon Savina, ones she couldn't entirely heal, she tattooed runes upon the scars on her cheek to cover the visible memory of her foolishness. A reminder to herself that not every person she meets is as kind and simple as her parents.  After many years of adventure, Savina stumbled upon the land of Skyrim.


A most strange land full of war, prejudices of non-natives, and strife, Savina decided to stay and settle in this foreign land. 


Staying in the College for a time, Savina finally managed to learn even more magic. After awhile, her adventurous nature caused her to leave the college and travel to different reaches of Skyrim, learning magic from every court wizard and town mage she could find. Despite Skyrim's natives distrust of foreigners, Savina decided to call Skyrim her own home.



What province do you come from?


High Rock


What are your characters goals? 


To aid those in need as well as offer affordable lessons in magic. She also desires to travel more, but to always come back home to Skyrim.

 

[Abendrot]

Name: Morthil Maldrizes


Nickname: Just Morthil, or "that cheeky dark elf"


Race: Dunmer


Gender: Male


Age: 203


Items:


- Knapsack


- An eight year old horse named Sazed.


- Magicka Potions


- Money


- Apothecary satchel filled with ingredients


- Mortar and Pestle


- Leather-bound notebook w/charcoal.


- The Pocket Guide to the Empire


Occupation: Wandering Mage / Scholar (Currently staying at Winterhold)


Weapons:


Magic


Silver Shortsword


Personality: For the most part, Morthil is a pleasant man, if a bit eccentric. He is abnormally enthusiastic about all things magic related, eager not to just learn more, but to share his knowledge with others. He is highly intelligent, needless to say, having also been educated in history and various languages. One of his more prominent traits is his dry sense of humor, which is often employed during dangerous situations, making him seem rude and unprofessional in the eyes of some people. However, should his merry jests put a smile on at least one face, he'll be pleased. Despite his often harsh treatment at the hands of the local Nords (or perhaps because of it), Morthil has developed a thick skin, able to brush off rude gibes about his race and his magic. But despite his generally calm demeanor, he can have a violent temper if he is pushed over the edge.


*History: Morthil Maldrizes could not have come into the world at a more inopportune time. He'd been born at the turn of the Third Era in the city of Ald'ruhn to two staunch members of House Redoran, a happy couple, and moderately wealthy at that. Yet not even a year after young Morthil's birth, the Oblivion Crisis began, and while most of the violence was centered in Cyrodiil, Ald'ruhn was nearly decimated by the sudden daedra onslaught, forcing the family to flee Morrowind with their infant son. When the Crisis finally ended, Morthil's parents emigrated to Cyrodiil where they used what money they had left to purchase a modest house in the Imperial City. While their life in Cyrodiil hadn't been as prosperous as their life in Morrowind, it was comfortable nonetheless, safe from any sort of danger from the homeland, especially after the Red Year.


From an early age, Morthil's father wanted to teach him the ways of the warrior, being such a fervent believer in House Redoran's code, but the boy had no interest in swords or axes. He'd read about the Mages Guild, and aspired to be more like them when he grew up, much to his parents' chagrin. Throughout his childhood and adolescence, he was forced to endure his father's lessons of war and combat, though he longed for the thrill of wielding magic for the good of others. When he turned eighteen and officially of age, Morthil went against his parents' wishes of being a fighter and instead joined the College of Whispers at the Arcane University. He did not fail to impress. Intelligent and creative, Morthil showed a natural aptitude for magic beyond that of most of the other Associates. While he showed a particular knack for history, he mostly focused his energy on learning Conjuration, Alteration, and Destruction. On occasion, Morthil would travel throughout the province -- sometimes abroad -- to gain practical experience from excavating ruins and the like.


Eventually, however, Morthil began to grow disenchanted with both the College of Whispers and the Synod, believing them both to be too politically oriented with a decreasing focus on actual magic and research. Fed up with his fellow academics, Morthil cut off all times with the College of Whispers after more than a century of being a member, and instead decided to spend the rest of his days as a travelling scholar residing in various residences in Hammerfell, High Rock,, and now Skyrim. While living in ancient city of Windhelm, Morthil quickly grew to resent its cold climate as well as the even colder Nords who hated and distrusted his kind, despite the fact that most of the Dunmer there were refugees from a now uninhabitable land. For a time, he learned to ignore their rude and offensive japes before he mustered up the resources to move further north to the once great metropolis of Winterhold. This brings us to today. For now, Morthil continues his research, working closely with the College of Winterhold and giving the occasional lecture there in exchange for enough money to pay for his inn room and to keep food on the table.


Province: Ald'ruhn, Morrowind (raised in the Imperial City)


Goals: To learn all that the world has to offer him.

 

[Kazanna]

Name


Ornas Dreirgruf


Nickname


The Crow


Race


Nord


Gender


Male


Age


37


Items


~Heavy bear leather armors reinforced with interwoven splint mail and bear fur


~Dense bedroll that has the same tone appearance as stone


~Backpack that contains a small set of something tools that are required to peel the plates of various creatures apart, designed for Charus, but works just as well for dragon.


~Several Soul Gems, two of which look strangely black


~A roll of leather that is etched with the runes of an Enchanter.


~A length of dark cord


Occupation


Master Smith


Enchanter


Mercenary


Weapons


~Two handed longsword with an empty frost rune and an empty soul drain rune that work in tandem


~Longbow, and a quiver of arrows, he constantly restocks them as often as he can.


~A pair of daggers hidden in his armor


Personality


Ornas is generally cold and quiet, he's committed to his crafts and focuses more on them then on people, which causes him to come across as a rude, or ungrateful man. Though in truth, he's simply learned to be self reliant and cautious due to the harsh nature of his upbringing.


History


Ornas is a werewolf, he contracted Lycanthropy from his father when he was barely 8 years old, who kept this fact secret from his mother, Who was, and still is a high ranking member of the Vigilants of Stendarr. Because of this, Ornas has always viewed his transformation as a double edged knife, while it was something he and his father did together on hunting trips, and it allowed them to bond until his eventual demise at Ornas' mother's hands, it also created a rift between Ornas and his mother, whom he never revealed to her that he was in fact a lycanthrope. Because of the lack of her suspecting it, she never attempted any of the common tests and he escaped detection through adulthood, which allowed him the time to leave her presence and forge his own life.


At a young age, Ornas discovered the companions of Whiterun, and was taught smithing at the Sky-Forge, he was embraced by the Companions as a whole, though he never quite felt at home, and even though he has strong ties with the secret werewolf cult, he never remained within the city limits long enough to truly become one of them, though he still has the right to quarter in their bunk house at any time should he so choose. When the war happened, Ornas retreated from the world, he watched as the Stormcloaks were overwhelmed by the Thalmor and the Empire's forces. He retreated to The slums of Riften, becoming known well enough there to be hired occasionally by the Black-Briar family, forming strong enough ties with them to be left to his own devices and to have enough sway to act for a time, as one of the city guards.


Hardship befell Ornas, when on a particular job, he was beset by a pair of feral werewolves, who attacked him and his charge. Being that he was already a werewolf himself, he was unable to wield silver, or any other weapons that could gravely harm there werewolves, so he was forced to transform to fight the monsters away from his charge. Despite showing that he was peaceful, and when he had finally transformed back into a human, he explained his situation, his charge was not pleased. Upon completing his mission for the man, which was to escort him from Riften to Markarth, Ornas rapidly contacted the Black-Briar family, spending any wealth he had gained in his life to cover up the mistake that had been his client witnessing his transformation.


Now, Ornas is trying to scrape his way back up from the bottom of the barrel again, blade, bow, and armor being nearly all he has left besides the skill of his two hands and the fangs that he can grow.


What province do you come from


Rorikstead, Skyrim


What are your characters goals?


To further his mastery of both enchanting and smithing while regaining enough wealth to someday open his own forge where he could create enchanted weapons the likes that Tamriel has never seen, and to acquire a blade of great worth and power.

Spoiler

Spoiler

Spoiler

Spoiler

 

[Ellieroan]

Name:


Azuni


Race:


Khajiit


Gender:


Female


Age:


30


Appearance (Please have it be a picture, I'm hoping for a Skyrim picture, modded or vanilla style works, but realistic photos work too, No anime or anything else, thanks):


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]

[/SIZE]


Items:


Some herbs


A grey horse named Faolan


A knapsack


Quite a few lockpicks from her days in the Thieve's Guild


Several soul gems


Money


Maps 


Occupation: 


Adventurer, but she will take up jobs with the Thieve's Guild if they ask her to do a job somewhere


Weapons:


An elven bow, lots of steel and elven arrows


An elven dagger enchanted with shock damage


A steel dagger with soul snare to fill her soul gems when needed


Personality:


Azuni comes off as cold and aloof, but, rather, she is just reserved and not a very trusting individual. Her kind is not welcomed in Skyrim, so she is forced to endure the locals watching her every move to make sure she didn't anything. So, Azuni prefers to stay in the wilderness with her horse, or, when she is forced to go into a city, she keeps her head down and tried not to attract any attention. When Azuni does meet someone she can trust, she is not cold or aloof. She likes to talk about books and tell stories of her travels, and listen to stories. This Khajiit is also a very determined feline. Once she puts her mind toward something, she will get it done, no matter if she fails or needs help.


*History: 

Azuni was born...somewhere. Her parents were part of a traveling caravan so they never could remember where she had been birthed at. It didn’t matter to Azuni, though. She loved life with the small group of Khajiit that sold all sorts of things. One night though, when Azuni was around 5 winters old,  one of the members had gotten too high off of his own skooma and had tried to kill Azuni, succeeding only in leaving a scar across her arm and pissing off her father and mother. Thus, her hatred of skooma rose after seeing how hard the fellow Khajiit had come down from his high. After she had turned 16 winters, Azuni decided to leave the traveling caravan and search for her own way through life.
​

After a year of traveling and honing her Marksman skills, she ended up in the town of Riften in Skyrim, knocking at the door of the Thieve’s Guild. They put her to work and she learned all of the skills she needed to know to be a successful member of the Thieve’s Guild. Not long after she turned 25 winters, Azuni left the Thieve’s Guild to travel. She was still a member, and, when needed, she would still do jobs, but her main priority in life was to travel and see what Tamriel had to offer her.


What province do you come from?(Skyrim, Black Marsh, Valenwood, etc): 


Skyrim, most likely. Azuni was born while her family was traveling, but she assumed she was born in Skyrim.


What are your characters goals? (Become wealthy, join a guild, etc):


Azuni's goal is to travel and hone her skills. She wishes to one day open a stable in Skyrim and breed the hardy Skyrim horses. But the Khajiit loves to travel in the meantime. She is a very patient feline. 


@DarknessSpirit


Let me know if I need to change anything, please!

 

[AlbaGuBrath]

(I apologize in advance, this is loooooong.... I tried to keep it reasonable, but I guess I ramble a lot... It's mostly history, but in my defense, I'm trying to cover about six years.


I will likely be adding another character, a Khajiit thief, later on, but for now, there's just Saor.

Former Officer Drenmare Enraldson

Beta - If this is accepted, I was thinking that I could meet up with your character in town, try to recruit him to come help lead the small group, try to get back in touch with the larger resistance, make trouble for the elves, etc. What do you think? I felt it would be interesting plot-wise to have this sort of underground battle against the Thalmor and interesting character-wise because the impression I got from Drenmare was that he was sort of jaded and withdrawn from soldiering, while the three younger rebels are enthusiastic and still somewhat naive, so there could be some interesting storytelling there.


@DarknessSpirit Would that be something you'd be okay with?)


Name: Saorat


Race: Khajiit


Gender: Female


Age:  22


Appearance:  [SIZE=13.333333333333332px]

[/SIZE]


(Art by chives at Neo.)


Items: Set of leather armor, fine bow and steel arrows, a set of civilian clothing (a long brown dress trimmed with fur), a traveling pouch containing a few supplies


Occupation:  Originally a traveler, then a soldier in the Stormcloak army. Now, she is part of the resistance and is looking to bring the scattered groups together.


Weapons: Saorat fights almost exclusively with a bow, and is deadly accurate. She prefers to sneak to a good place and shoot from behind objects until she is discovered. Once this happens, she stands and just keeps firing, running and jumping as needed. Obviously, this can sometimes have bad consequences, and she has more than once had to turn tail and run from a conflict until she gained a chance to recover and sneak in again. In a pinch, she has a handful of novice spells at her disposal but is completely untrained with any sort of blade. In her hands, a sword just flails wildly and a shield is only a burden. If trapped with no bow or magic, she'd be better off just to fight with fists and claws.


Personality: Growing up in Skyrim and living closely beside Nords for the last four years, Saorat shares some of the beliefs of her neighbors, but differs in other respects. She holds honor and courage in high regard, but does not consider sneak attacks, ambushes, or guerilla warfare to be dishonorable, though agrees that harming civilians is. She has no qualms about running from a fight if the need arises, but remains defiant until that point. She strives to be true to her word, but will bend the truth or outright lie if necessary to protect the lives of her friends.


While she has little love for the Imperials, she does not hate them or have any wish to destroy them, only drive them out. For this reason, she will usually accept surrender, though she has been known to lose her temper, which bothers her greatly. Regarding the Thalmor, however, she has far less mercy. This is especially true after the murder of Ulfric, who she loved as a king and father. To her shame, this has led to a deep distrust of elves in general and Altmer in particular, although she always said she would never judge based on race. She still is willing to associate with Bosmer and Dunmer if the need arises and will welcome them as a friend if they prove to be one, but they have to go a bit further than they once did to earn her trust. Excepting extraordinary circumstances, she wants nothing to do with Altmer.


She does not follow Talos herself, but respects him as any other and is sympathetic to those affected by his banning. After hearing about him from the other soldiers, this respect has grown and she will sometimes entreat his aid. She is deeply troubled by the thought of dying away from her new family and secretly hopes that the Nord deities would accept an outsider into their halls, though she has never said so outright for fear of ridicule.


She is distrustful and could be described as paranoid or anxious, but is deeply loyal to those she loves. She has a hot temper, especially about touchy subjects, that she fights hard to keep under control. Most of the time it only manifests itself in a furious glare and clipped words, but it has broken out into a fight in the past.This temper and a stubborn defiant streak was the source of much difficulty when she first entered the army because of a resistance to authority and a tendency to question orders or ignore them if she felt the need. Her time in the army has taught her discipline, but it does reappear from time to time.


Her education is very limited, mostly just basic math and survival skills, and can neither read nor write. However, she is insatiably curious and a quick learner, and is always eager to add to her skillset. Because of her background, she is extremely frugal and good at making the most of whatever resources she has available. Even if she does happen to come into a bit of coin, she is loath to waste it, though she is generous in giving to others. She is also a talented sneak and persuader, though she is reluctant to use them for ill-means unless absolutely necessary.


*History: Saorat was born in Skyrim to a pair of travelling merchants, Amkher and Adaisi,  who decided to settle down in the area. Mostly, it was her father’s idea, for he had developed a love for the mountains and wilderness during his travels. The pair settled in Riften,mostly because it was the only city that would have them, and they struggled to make a living through his hunting and selling meats and furs and her alchemy and healing skills. Saorat’s father taught her the value of hard work and encouraged her to make an honorable life for herself.


Growing up in Riften, crime was definitely a problem, but the young cub was entirely oblivious of it.To her, it was a paradise full of exciting places to explore with her best friend, Dubha. When they were a bit older, Dubha brought Saorat into the Ratway to meet her “family”, the Thieves’ Guild, and begged Saorat to take the initiation with her. Saorat was initially reluctant, but finally agreed for the sake of her bond-sister. The two worked together on every job and were very good, but Saorat quickly developed a distaste for the shady lifestyle and the suspicious glares she got from the shopkeepers. She also found it harder and harder to hide her involvement from her parents and felt that she was shaming them and their hard work.


One day, Amkher came home very sick from an illness he contracted in the wilds and, despite Adaisi’s healing abilities, he soon died. Both surviving members were stricken with grief and Adaisi decided she no longer wanted to live in their now-lacking home. Without warning, she packed up their few possessions, woke her sleeping daughter, and the pair headed out for Elsewyr. It was morning before Saorat realized that she forgot to say anything to Dubha. Once there, however, she found that she missed the mountains and snow, the proud people, and the rich songs of Skyrim. While Elsewyr was filled with people like her, she felt strange and out-of-place, and longed for the place she considered home. She lived there with her mother for two years, but eventually saved enough to be able to return.


After weeks of walking, she finally had Bruma to her back and could see into Skyrim. Excitement overtook her exhaustion and she began to run toward the welcoming border. However, things had changed since she left and she never thought to watch for soldiers in the trees. She found herself in a confusing jumble of leather and steel, rusty red and blue-green. She fought frantically against the nearest soldier to her, not concerned that his armor was red, in a desperate attempt to get away but was overpowered and bound in a trice. Her nondescript hide armor didn’t show one side or the other but the soldier she fought insisted that she must be one of the enemy, despite her wails to the contrary and the confusion of the men.


As she sat in the snow and struggling to understand what was going on, she heard about the war. She had heard rumors of it in her travels and felt somewhat sympathetic, but never imagined that she would find herself in the middle of it. She didn’t have much time to think about it, however, because the escaped soldiers from the earlier skirmish had returned with reinforcements to rescue their brethren. The remaining patrol routed and the rescuers cut the cords around the prisoners’ wrists, including, to her surprise, Saorat’s. They immediately took to the trees with a bewildered Khajiit in their wake.


She followed them back to their camp seeking to satisfy her curiosity and for some measure of security. One of them, the soldier who cut her loose, noticed her and invited her to warm her paws. She considered running away then, but was surprised to find that the soldiers, though they regarded her with obvious confusion and surprise, didn’t openly treat her as a criminal. After hearing how she walked all the way from Elsewyr to return home, the man, whose name was Ruadh, remarked that she must dearly love Skyrim and invited her to join them in their fight to liberate it. At first, she was uninterested, as she regarded the conflict as a war between men, but decided it was a better alternative than returning back to the squalor of Riften. If nothing else, it could be an opportunity to earn a name for herself beyond the shadows and to find a family to belong to.


When she was brought to Windhelm, she found the same suspicion she met in Riften and was almost forbidden from entering the Jarl’s court. They were finally granted an audience with Ulfric and she had the opportunity to see the man she heard so much about. He was an imposing and powerful figure and listened with open surprise as the escort explained why they had come. When he insisted that she speak for herself, she told him that Skyrim was her home, though she left out her desire for glory and adventure. He allowed her to take the Oath, which was more than she expected, and simply said “Make me proud.” She thought little of this first order, but eventually came to realize that he expected the same from her as the others. No more, no less, just like she was one of them. This would sink deep into her heart and grow into a strong devotion to the Jarl and a determination to honor his choice in allowing her to stay.


However, that was not yet to come. Shortly after she returned to the camp as a Stormcloak in name, but a mercenary in motive, they had their first battle. She had never seen war before or ever harmed another person and became terribly sick immediately afterward. Fear and horror haunted her until she wanted to desert. Ruadh reminded her of her oath and her duty to uphold it and though she vehemently spat that she didn’t need Nord honor, inside she knew he was right, She remained in the army, but still felt unhappy and hollow. She listened to the other soldiers speak of generations-old farms, spouses and children back home, their love for their land and their homes, and found herself wishing that she had something like that to fight for. After a time, however, she began to realize that she did. Though she wouldn't have imagined it before, she felt a comradeship with the others and fought for them in the same way they fought for families back home. She still shrank from killing and hated to see the death of friend or foe, but was determined to protect her friends and the values they cherish


She spent three years in the Stormcloak army and grew more and more dedicated as time went on. She became close friends with Ruadh and his sister Fira, as well as with several other soldiers in the company. They were near Whiterun when they received news of Ulfric’s death, to the horror and fury of all present, and the three vowed that they wouldn’t leave each other or stop fighting until their king’s murder was avenged and their duty to free Skyrim completed. That was a year ago and the three are still together, along with a couple others, and trying to find a way to continue the fight.


What province do you come from?: Skyrim


What are your characters goals?: To keep herself and her family (the surviving Stormcloaks) alive as long as possible and to keep fighting until the Thalmor are gone.

 

[Jellyon]

Beta - If this is accepted, I was thinking that I could meet up with your character in town, try to recruit him to come help lead the small group, try to get back in touch with the larger resistance, make trouble for the elves, etc. What do you think? I felt it would be interesting plot-wise to have this sort of underground battle against the Thalmor and interesting character-wise because the impression I got from Drenmare was that he was sort of jaded and withdrawn from soldiering, while the three younger rebels are enthusiastic and still somewhat naive, so there could be some interesting storytelling there.





 






 

That sounds really awesome! I kinda like the idea of it.


Right now, I have Drenmare inside Riften in a local Inn/Tavern alongside everyone else.


How do you do you figure you want to meet them up?

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Name: Dra'mara


*Nickname: None


Race: Khajiit 


Gender: Female 


Age: 21


Appearance:

Items: Ancient Nord Armor, flower wreath, multiple Ebony arrows, satchel full of gold, vigorous potion of healing. 


Occupation:  Trade Caravan Merchant 


Weapons: Deadric Bow of Flames, Two glass daggers. 


Personality: Kind, caring, manipulative, wary, friendly.


What province do you come from?(Skyrim, Black Marsh, Valenwood, etc): Elseware. 


Whst are your characters goals? (Become wealthy, join a guild, etc): Make a living in Skyrim as a merchant. 

 

[Xion136]

Name: Zion de Wynter


Nickname: Falling Angel


Race: Nord (Experimented)


Gender: Female


Age: 19


Apperance:

Items:


A small pack of minimalist supplies


Bedroll


Sweetroll


A few health potions


Occupation: 


Escaped Experiment


Weapons:


Two Akaviri Swords she calls Lux and Noctis (found in a sunken ship).


An unusual blade she calls Oathkeeper.


Is on the lookout for a bow, as she wishes to learn how to use one.


Personality:


Zion is quite the cheerful girl, despite her harrowing experience. Having undergone terrible experiments by the Thalmor haven't impacted her personality much, but she has a fear of Thalmor that she will act on through fight or flight. She really just wants to go home and be left alone, but she fears it won't happen. It never happens. Despite this, she's a very kind and generous soul, who wants to believe people are better than what they appear. This naivety can be dangerous, but even then Zion is just an innocent soul, wanting both justice and solace of what she transpired.


*History:


Born on the outskirts of Solitude and living a simple life with her family, Zion and her elder brother, Soren, had no real want for anything...but as the wars raged and Ulfric Stormcloak called for aid. Her father was an idealist, who took up arms, heading to Windhelm to join the Stormcloak rebellion. Leaving them back in Haafinger, Zion and Soren did their best to help their mother, but for many whose family left to the Stormcloaks, soon came the Imperials...and the Thalmor.


With their door busted in by a Thalmor Inquisitor squad, Zion was forced to watch their entire home ransacked and nearly destroyed. And if it had ended there, Zion might have been happy. But no...instead, the Thalmor found their father's Amulet of Talos. As soon as the last link to their father was found, the Imperials were forced out and the Thalmor took over completely. Zion was further forced to watch her mother tortured for information, her brother beaten, and that was when she lost it. She unleashed the Master-Spell Lightning Storm, killing two Thalmor in a fite of rage. It was the only time in her life she ever managed to use magic beyond a bit of Flames or Sparks spells, and the effort made her pass out. She was lucky it didn't kill her.


When she woke up, Zion was tied in the hold of a ship, on her way to the Summerset isles.


The Thalmor saw her willpower and latent magic, and wished to tap into her. Their tests were painful, degrading. Zion refuses to say what the Elven Supremacists did to her within the walls of that Keep, but half a year into her captivity and they began other experimentation. She was an orphan with little friends, a Nord who was lower than even a Bosmer. The madman who ran the tests was beyond even the most rigid of Thalmor Inquisitors, his wanton use of dangerous and ill magic causing the deaths of dozens of prisoners...but Zion persevered. Despite the pain, the degradation and the exhaustion, Zion refused to let these monsters win. And then, the Elf decided to try augmentation. For months she was magically experimented on, the pain nearly killing her, she would later say. But on the first day of winter, she unfurled two snow-white wings, unable to even sob, unable to stand....barely able to keep from pitching over. He had made her a monster...but he had made a mistake.


Slowly, in her cell, during their experiments, she learned. The mad Altmeri thought he might create an army of flying elves; quite the character, his zeal in finding new ways to bring forth Elven dominance would become his undoing. Once she was sure she could fly, Zion struck. With every ounce of mana she had been saving within her, every moment of concentration, meditation, trial and error, she had gotten enough. And she killed the mad elf, the guards, took up a blade the blacksmith had sent for enchantment and somehow managed to get out. She had barely any mana and was surrounded...but as soon as her face hit the cold, free air, she unfurled her snow-white wings and took flight. Arrows flew past, one stabbing her calf. But she got away, she flew and escaped.


Zion would spend the next few months recovering and getting stronger. She watched the ships, waited for the next one to Skyrim, to home. And the day it left, she followed. Under the cover of night she managed to sneak on, and hiding deep in the hold, she waited. The ordeal of surviving the mad experiments had taught her how to make food last, and somehow made it. Zion swore Akatosh himself, maybe even Talos, watched over her. But finally, as dawn rose, she saw the coast. Dawnstar, Skyrim, her home. She powered forward, but suddenly arrows stabbed her wings. She had stayed too long, hadn't gotten lower to keep from their sight. She lost altitude and plunged into the sea.


That was a few months ago. Now she hides in Solitude of all places, doing oddjobs and living in a room at the Winking Skeever...wondering if there truly would be a way she could gain justice for her family...and if her family still lived.

What province do you come from?(Skyrim, Black Marsh, Valenwood, etc): Skyrim


What are your characters goals? (Become wealthy, join a guild, etc): Find her family, gain justice for what was done to her


Misc:


Zion has latent power magic power for sure, but she fears going to the College, scared the Thalmor would find her.


Zion - Seraphim Form (Endgame)


Zion - Normal Form

 

[Abendrot]

Name: Damien Dufort


Race: Breton (Altmer father)


Gender: Male


Age: 24


Items:


- A stallion named Kafka


- Money


- Compass


- A set of lockpicks


- Waterskin


- Potions of stamina, magicka, and healing


- Disguises


Occupation: Thief / Nightblade


Weapons:


- Magic


- Twin daggers of traditional Breton make


- A wooden bludgeon, for when he's not feeling lethal.


Personality: With his cunning wit and his roguish air, Damien's personality could probably be described as typical for a thieving man such as himself. Sly and easy-going, he easily finds ways to lighten the pockets of those too burdened with money, but while he's just as concerned with his own welfare as much as the next man, he's not completely selfish. Almost always, he'll share a great deal of his purloined wealth to those less fortunate. For this reason, he doesn't affiliate with the Thieves Guild, who have sadly resorted to stealing from the poor to give to the rich. While he's outwardly friendly to most, he's not a trusting man. If working on the other side of the law has taught him anything, it's that he must rely and trust only himself


History: Damien Dufort was born to a young mother -- named Vivienne Dufort -- on the 14th of Morning Star, 4E 180 in the port city of Wayrest. Vivienne was a commoner by birth yet her lover was a highborn Thalmor Justiciar. The mer had been a maiden's fantasy, if she was to be believed. Handsome and charming with a glamour that attracted women like bears to honey. It was no surprise that the two became such fast lovers. Their affection, however, was fleeting, as the Altmer had been sent back to Alinor mere weeks after Damien's conception, leaving Vivienne to raise the child on her own. The two lived poor together with Vivienne trying to make as much money as she could as a fisherman while her son had been looked after by relatives and neighbors. Food was a valuable commodity in young Damien's eyes and getting two or three meals a day was something unheard of to his ears. It had been hard to resist the temptation of stealing from the abundant food stalls, yet it was impossible to ignore the waste boxes of spoiling produce. It took a few months, but soon Damien's patience had been pushed too far, and soon the boy found himself stealing these unwanted foods not just for himself and his mother, but for the other urchins in his district. He did this for about a year or so, training his ability to sneak through crowds and snatch up fruit without any watching eyes on him.


When Damien was seven years old, the unimaginable occurred. Wayrest was viciously raided by corsairs. In the span of a few hours, the boy lost his and his family's possessions, his friends, his innocence, and most horribly, his mother. Damien fled the city on a Khajiiti trader ship with as much as he could carry, along with a handful of other people. For a time, the boy lapsed into a period of depression. Wayrest was no longer home to him, even after the city was retaken and rebuilt. Aside from the fact that he had no money to feed and shelter himself, he couldn't bear to stay in a place that reminded him of all he had lost. The next year, Damien signed on as a cabin boy for the same ship from Elsweyr that had brought him out of Wayrest on the day of the raid, captained by a young and idealistic Ma'dran.


It was from there, at the age of nine, that Damien's adventuring days began. The crew traded across the Abecean Sea, selling their exotic wares from Daggerfall to Dusk, from Stros M'Kai to as far east as Senchal. For a time, Damien was content to perform menial tasks like doing night watch and handling the ropes, sails, and lines. Shortly after he signed aboard Ma'dran's ship, Damien met a fair-haired wizard named Augustin Lachapelle, the only other Breton (or more specifically, the only other non-Khajiit) aboard the ship. The two befriended each other rather quickly, bonding over their shared homeland, hobbies, and Damien's growing interest in girls. After a fashion, Damien began to dabble into magic at his friend's behest, and after taking notice of his aptitude, Augustin took to tutoring the boy in the arcane arts himself. Years passed, and Damien had become a respected member of the crew in his own right and his understanding of magic became even greater.


Some years ago, Ma'dran had gained ambitions well past maritime trading, instead seeing a lucrative market in caravanning across Skyrim. The crew was disbanded, though its former members were encouraged to follow the caravan north to Skyrim, which Damien had, though he only stayed with them for a few short months before he left to pursue his own interests.


Province: Wayrest, High Rock


Goals: Help the downtrodden.

 

[TenshuZninja]

Did I miss my chance to sign up?

 

[LucidSol]

Did I miss my chance to sign up?

No, we are still open to all as there is no [Closed] in the title

 

[AlbaGuBrath]

Did I miss my chance to sign up?





 






 

I believe it should still be open! The other links you'll want are OOC, Rules, and IC Chat . Hope to see you soon! (:


I think we need more males and/or human characters, though, so you might be a bit limited in that regard. But @DarknessSpirit could tell you for sure. (:

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Did I miss my chance to sign up?

Still open!

 

[SidTheSkid]

~ Name ~


(Legionnaire Tribune)Sixten J. Stendahl


~ Nickname(s) ~
Champion of Dawnstar, Apache of Dragons, Lord Stendahl


(Residents who abide in Dawnstar’s hold or those whom know of him.)


Captain/Tribune Sixten


(Fellow Legionnaires)


~ Vampiric Disguise nickname(s) ~


Red Terror, Nightmare of the Holds, Mehrunes Dagon’s bastard child (Citizens of Skyrim)


~ Alignment ~ (Thought i’d add this for future reference)


True neutral/Lawful evil. (Sixten tends to be a guardian of the individuals who occupy Dawnstar, not to mention he’ll offer protection to caravans that traverse Skyrim and will usually lend a hand to those in need. Yet in order to maintain his powerful abilities and strength he must consume the blood of non-vampires, Sixten also has to acknowledge the pact in which Mehrunes dagon has made with him which forces him to make malevolent rituals.)


~ Preferred combat style ~


One handed w/ blade and the available hand using destructive sorcery.


~ Race ~
Breton/Traditional Sanginarius vampire


~ Gender ~


Male


~ Age ~


Physical Age: 26 Real age: Unknown but rather ‘young’ (Physical appearance, aging immediately stopped hence his pact and bloodline.)


~ Appearance ~

Spoiler

Spoiler

Spoiler

Vampiric Attire without mask

Spoiler

Masked Veil of Servitude

~ Items ~

• 
  Mysterium Xarxes
  
• 
  Daedric Artifact concealed within a crystalline gem inside of his silver antique necklace (Given by Mehrunes Dagon for sacrificial rituals)
  
• 
  Masked Veil of ‘Servitude’ (Crafted by his own hands, used as a calling card for the Daedric prince’s loyalty and as a disguise against those whom are supposedly ‘allied’ with him.)  (Worn with Vampiric disguise)
  
• 
  Reinforced medium-built Ebony armor. (Usually plated with several other alloyed materials, only worn while in Vampiric disguise)
  
• 
  Heavily-weighted Imperial Captain armor
  
• 
  Fortified rings of Destruction hugged along each digit of his hand concealed by his gauntlets
  
• 
  Several leather waist satchels which are suited comfortably on both sets of armor
  
• 
  Septims hidden and locked within a satchel hoisted around his waist
  

~ Occupation ~


Legionnaire Tribune (Usually in charge of surveying the several holds for an evaluation report with the administrative jarls who control the region, Sixten is without a doubt one if not the most loyal of Mehrunes Dagon’s followers as he tends to keep busy with spilling the blood of those that he deems as fit for the Daedric prince.


~ Weapons ~

• 
  Nightmarish Longsword (Only used while disguised.)
  
• 
  Destructive magic (Used in disguise)
  
• 
  Custom-forged Imperial broadsword (‘Stendahl’ marked in miniscule font alongside the hilt)
  

~ Personality ~


Sixten, well. It would be a very strong understatement to say that he has an excessive obligation when it comes to vengeance. However strangely enough, like his mask which conceals his bare face, this attribute of his is also camouflaged by delightful outward disposition which seems to get the attention of numerous villagers and inhabitants of Skyrim who absolutely adore him for this and the charm he somehow resonates with his presence.  


He is often described by a few of the ‘Legates’ to be quite the exceptional captain, especially when it comes down to his patient fashion and extraordinarily thorough as he prepares a large quantity of recruits for imminent battle.


Can be considered to be quite confident in his abilities from time to time as he usually comes equipped without a shield or a two-handed weapon but only an imperial broadsword. Overall the illusion-like front of his true personality is quite enjoyed by his comrades and the citizens alike.


(To be continued as it might change later on in this story.)


~History~


Born on the first of Sun’s Height, Sixten lived alongside a couple of other children in Honorhall Orphanage after being abandoned for untold reasons by his mother and father figure, the primary caretakers at first were rather concerned about how anti-social he was with the other adolescents and often place him in a group in an attempt to have him speak with the others, however it was to no avail. They soon understood why he was deliberately avoiding the children, as he was actually infected with the vampiric bloodline which had coursed rapidly through his veins since birth. Understanding that accepting him blindly into the Orphanage, one of the caretakers decided it would be best if they took him to the outskirts of Solitude where rumors of outcasted people like himself usually stayed before renouncing his presence and carrying back to Riften, Sixten didn’t know how to react, except everything had felt so surreal as once again he was alone and scared. That was until he was discovered by a wandering individual whom had overheard his pleas and saddened cries for safety.


In which Sixten had found out that the eyes of the mysterious man was that of his own, from this incredible discovery he was taken under the person’s wing and was raised by the loving patriarch nearby Solitude.


Years after the Imperials of Solitude grew more weary of this Sanguine encampment, they promptly gathered a large mass of guards and embarked towards the location. To Sixten’s surprise he was taken by surprise by one of the Legates and captured yet soon released as he was foolishly mistaken for one of the human cattle, astonishment grew in the eyes of the female Legate as she saw promise in the young-boy as he was able to withstand and survive such a long encounter with the abominations which plagued the land. She then offered him a position as an Imperial Errand boy at the age of 14 and he was to be one or if not the youngest recruits in the entire Imperial Legion.


By the 23rd day of Hearthfire he sent upon a seemingly average quest in Dawnstar which involved escorting a caravan, however this unexpectedly turned into a suicide mission as the 20 year old man and group was then attacked by a Serpentine dragon that had taken them by surprise. Panic struck throughout The Pale as they helplessly watched the menacing creature wreak havoc amidst the hold. Foolish yet brave Sixten took on the dragon but was severely burn by its devastating fire-breath which had scorched a layer of his skin and had left him lying upon the icy ground as the snow hugged his trembling outline. That was until he had a vision of a disturbing yet perplexing Daedric prince, Mehrunes Dagon, Sixten was offered another chance at life and incredible power. But in return he would form a pact with the genderless being and submit his undying will to the ‘deity.’ Recognizing that he had no choice but to accept, he nodded in response. After the acceptance he felt an overbearing strength come over his body, a disgustingly foul energy coursed through his corrupted soul which had caused him to stand once more and fight the dragon and with one swift blow of his Imperial Broadsword he had sliced through the Serpentine’s plated throat and finally defeated the menace. This feat made him quite prominent among Dawnstar and he was granted that of several titles including “Champion of Dawnstar.”


Almost as if it was a lust for power he continued onward with his personal conquest and seeked improvement of his magical capabilities, leading him to the College of Winterhold. Upon arrival he was denied access by the gatekeeper as Sixten was deemed to be unfit due to the corruption the guardian had saw in his flaxen-colored gaze. Outraged by this, he stormed forward after defeating the warden by encasing him in a fiery prism surrounded with an electrical rune. One of the visitors had saw this tragedy and immediately informed the Archmage and the fellow students who formed a unyielding line throughout the campus and confronted Sixten. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to defeat so many of these expertise mages he fled from the scene only to return in later events after receiving a strange letter from a woman named Victoria who wanted to rid the empire of its Thalmor.


Another chance at the power he had seeked, how couldn’t he accept her offer?


(Will add more soon as story goes on.)


~ What province do you come from? ~


Skyrim, more specifically originating from that of Solitude but then transitioning temporary locations over to (The Pale)Dawnstar.


~ What are your characters goals? ~


Due to Sixten’s past he seeks a multitude of things, one of them being to completely demolish the College of Winterhold, whether it be eradicating the current Archmage and the students or assassinating each ‘Council of Mage’s’ member one by one in order to disrupt and disestablish the College.


Secondly alike every stereotypical villain that is described in novels, he wishes to gain overwhelming strength and influence as his title in the Legion militia is only brushing the surface, but in order to obtain such a position he’ll have to put an immediate end to those in his way. Which means that the Thalmor are on his hit-list.

(Updates might be made)

 

[Merlin_Supreme]

[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]-Name- [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Elizabeth Azubah [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]-Nickname-[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Lady Luck [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]-Race-[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Nord [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]-Gender-[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Female[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]-Age-[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]19[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]-Appearance-[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]

[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]-Items-[/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px] [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Custom Made Light Armour (x1)[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Arrow (x23)[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Bread (x3)[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Lockpick (x7)[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Water (x4)[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sleeping bag (x1)[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Fancy Robes (x1)[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Amulet of Mara (x1) [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]-Occupation-[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Spy/Scout/Courier for Stormcloaks [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]-Weapons-[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Dwarven Longbow (x1)[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]-Personality-[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Elizabeth is seen by others as fun and loving often seen as a nuisance, Elizabeth can change her personality depending on what she is doing, If she is spying on imperials she can act like one despite her age.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]-History-[/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px] [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Elizabeth was born and raised in a small Nord family, the father and mother were both Talos worshipers and the father fought in the war against the Thalmor. After the war was over the father came home damaged from the war missing his left arm.Everything went fine for Elizabeth and her family until she was six and the Thalmor attacked her home since her parents were still worshiping Talos. The parents were executed for killing a Thalmor officer during the raid and Elizabeth was transported to Riften where her uncle lived. Elizabeth's uncle was a thief in the guild and raised her to be a master thief from a young age When she was sixteen she could break into houses pickpocket and fight from the shadows. Her uncle having nothing more to train her gave her the last family heirloom a dwarven bow her grandfather found when he was diving into old caves. Elizabeth went and traveled to the far north to join the rebellion of the storm cloaks the travel took a long time for her and Elizabeth traveled to different holds on the way there[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px] to both steals as much as she could and to also hold up for a few days. When she got to Windhelm she joins with the Storm cloaks for a couple months until they were destroyed by the Thalmor, Elizabeth ran away living to fight another day now trying to start up the rebellion. Elizabeth then went back to Riften in defeat to rejoin her uncle for a while. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]-What province do you come from?-[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Cyrodiil [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]-What are your characters goals?-[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Fight the empire. Join the dark brotherhood.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]@DarknessSpirit[/SIZE]

 

[-Duskt-]

Name: Kyth-Nilljaar


 


*Nickname: Razor


 


Race: Kahjitt


 


Gender: Male


 


Age: 25


 


Items: Helsteaht Guard armor (no helmet), Satchel of Oblivion (was given to him by a deadra lord who he gained favor with. It can store a unlimited amount of items)


 


Occupation:  Frelance Adventurer


 


Weapons: Orcish sword


 


Personality: Kyth is a laid back Kahjiit who likes to joke even in the most drastic of situations

 


What province do you come from?(Skyrim, Black Marsh, Valenwood, etc): Born and raised in Cyrodiil


 


Whst are your characters goals? (Become wealthy, join a guild, etc): Kyth Has no particular goal other than collecting whatever odd things he can find on his travels. The more rare and odd trinkets and goodies the better


 

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Name: Kyth-Nilljaar


 


*Nickname: Razor


 


Race: Kahjitt


 


Gender: Male


 


Age: 25


 


Items: Helsteaht Guard armor (no helmet), Satchel of Oblivion (was given to him by a deadra lord who he gained favor with. It can store a unlimited amount of items)


 


Occupation:  Frelance Adventurer


 


Weapons: Orcish sword


 


Personality: Kyth is a laid back Kahjiit who likes to joke even in the most drastic of situations


 


What province do you come from?(Skyrim, Black Marsh, Valenwood, etc): Born and raised in Cyrodiil


 


Whst are your characters goals? (Become wealthy, join a guild, etc): Kyth Has no particular goal other than collecting whatever odd things he can find on his travels. The more rare and odd trinkets and goodies the better


 

Hey! Almost there, I need you to add a description or picture for what your character looks like

 

[-Duskt-]

Hey! Almost there, I need you to add a description or picture for what your character looks like

Oops I thought that copied over xD

 

[Wackadoodle0987]

Name :: Amelie Montclair


Nickname :: Lady Amelie, Queen Amelie, the Fair Lady of Rivenspire (not a nickname, but the title of a ballad about her... courtesy of a bard from Shornhelm... sadly he's no longer with us).


Race :: Breton Vampire (Noxiphilic Sanguivoria)


Province :: High Rock


Gender :: Female


Age :: (Approx. 2475) -- Born in the 20th Century of the First Era, 1E 1980).


Appearance ::   I cannot find a more satisfying depiction of her appearance I'm afraid, and Skyrim even with mods doesn't cut it.


Items :: Depending on the situation. Her more formal attire, which varies between the contents of an exceptionally large wardrobe, allows for little. She'll oft carry a small vial of something particularly potent (poison), as well as at least one magicka potion. However, if and when attired for battle, she'll usually carry a pack or bag of sorts containing some magicka potions, a small supply of blood, and a hand mirror... a necessity of course. She dresses in dresses, and the fashionable ones only, at all times. Only in battle does she don the just as fashionable robes.
 


Occupation :: First Matriarch of House Montclair, Queen of Rivenspire (though the official title is Queen of Shornhelm).


Weapons :: Most prevalently, her voice. She's felled a great many with but a slip of the tongue. More directly, her claws... only when forced, and she does her utmost not to make a mess; and then there's her magic (her go to in a battle). She uses a mix of lightning, illusion and alteration to disorient her foes, and incapacitate them. Amelie is a master of illusion, not only her skill, but her application of it. The true power of magic lies not in its brute strength, but how its wielder uses it.


Personality :: Chaotic Good. Um... Amelie's a peculiar one. Often deemed to be ruthless, even cruel at times. She sees her 'ruthlessness' as determination, and recognition of necessity. She does what she must for the benefit of the majority, or for her house. Often resorts to underhand tactics, such as manipulation, deception, even assassination - but only if she deems it necessary. Her actual attitude is quite generous. She's calm, patient, understanding; but will not tolerate brashness. She does not lie though - neither does she tell the truth, most often skating between half-truths and avoiding elaborating her true intentions. She is an illusionist and alchemist most prevalently, though if forced into direct combat can also act as a powerful tempest witch - using a mixture of lightning attacks and illusion / alteration to disorient and incapacitate her foes. Without any melee weapon of any kind, Amelie will resort to using her vampiric claws if forced into close-quarters combat. Her most deadly weapon is her wit and her sharp tongue though... with no small amount of poison in the mix - Amelie is a master of the game, and a dangerous opponent in all matters.... pray you don't become her enemy.



Biography / History :: (I've merged Annalise's and Amelie's biographies at the end)


Goals :: Well, now that is a mystery. If you work it out, do tell me.


-------------------------------------------------------------------------


Name :: Annalise Montclair


Nickname :: Fear the day you call Annalise by anything other than her name. Though Commander does suffice, and some occasionally refer to her as Lady Annalise


Race :: Breton Vampire (Noxiphilic Sanguivoria)


Province :: High Rock


Gender :: Female


Age :: Born in the 20th Century of the First Era, 1E 1967 - 13 years older than Amelie.


Appearance :: 

Items :: She carries little at all in the manner of personal effects, at most she'll carry a single vial of blood, if desperate times call for it. She oft dons a set of silver armour, the greaves, boots, and gauntlets all made of strong plate, whilst the torso is crafted from silver mail, with a leather corset over the top. 


Occupation :: Second Matriarch of House Montclair (despite being the Eldest, explained in the bio), General of the Armies of Rivenspire, and Commander of the Knights of the Flame of Anticlere.


Weapons :: A Silver Straight Sword, forged in the mid-Second Era by a now deceased loyal friend of the family and smith, for Annalise. She has since kept it in exceptionally good repair, and has since only ever taken the sword to be reconditioned at the Arenthian Armoire - a smithy belonging to a dear friend of Ambassador Tavari. She also carries a small silver dagger, named Priscilla, which had belonged to their family perhaps since the founding of the Montclair name. Annalise didn't care about its history, only that it had been passed down to her, and when she did eventually die, it would be passed on to whichever incompetent fool was next in line to receive it.



Personality :: Lawful Neutral. Quite different to her sister. Often finding the two together, one would also often find the two arguing. Annalise despises her sister's aptitude for dishonesty and 'underhandedness'. Annalise believes that one should combat on fair ground, and to at least make the enemy aware of your intent. Annalise, unlike her sister, will always tell the truth. Though she too puts her house first, Annalise cares less for the majority of people, but more so her own people. And despite appearances, cares greatly for her younger sister. However, her downfall is her short temper. Quick to anger, though quick to calm herself as well - though Annalise does not forget an enemy, nor can she swiftly forgive a betrayal - Baron Zemithar found that out. She wields a sword, and a dagger. Both made of pure silver, despite her vampirism, and are a symbolic gesture of House Montclair's ascension above the rest of their kind. She fights with a martial technique borne in Akavir, favouring speed, agility and precision - a dangerous swordsman.


Goals :: None. Maybe keep Amelie from getting killed, but half of the time she wants to kill the brat herself. I guess its "live for the sake of living". She can't be of use if she's dead.


Biography :: Amelie and Annalise Montclair, heralded as the famous (or infamous, depending on who you are) Montclair Sisters. Now the eldest surviving members of the Montclair line. Direct descendants of Lamae Beolfag, the two belong to the Lamae bloodline of Vampire Scions; one of the most powerful - and the first - vampire bloodlines to have come into existence. Sharing their progenitors hatred for both Molag Bal and Arkay, those of House Montclair belong to no religion - though they accept the presence of both Aedra and Daedra, do not deign to refer to them as gods.


The Thrassian plague devastated House Montlcair in the late 1E, ending many members of the family including sisters' brother, and several of their cousins, aunts and uncles. Now only eight direct relations remain. The end of the Direnni reign gave House Montclair more freedom to expand their influence, and after the death of King Ranser, and their appointment to rule over Shornhelm, House Montclair regained their determination that had been somewhat lost since the Thrassian Death. During the Interregnum, Amelie's grandson (by association, not birth), Baron Wylon Montclair was corrupted by the Lightless Remnant, and his assault on Northpoint cost House Montclair much of their reputation - though Amelie, having been working 'behind the curtain' and using Lleraya as somewhat of a puppet, managed to oust both House Dorell and House Tamrith and rule solely over Rivenspire.


Annalise was not fit for politics, and thus remained separate, overseeing House Montclair's merchantry, and commanding their forces. Thus Amelie became the new Queen of Shornhelm, and ruler of Rivenspire. During the acts of Rel Dasak in the Imperial City, only 10 years after the Tri-Faction war, and his introduction of the Magickal Regulation Act; Amelie used the distraction to cause more dissent in High Rock. When High King Emeric travelled to the Imperial City, leaving Queen Maraya to tend to High Rock, the Montclair began her deception of the young Queen. 


Having spoiled Maraya's relationship with Emeric, Amelie set up an arranged marriage for Lleraya and Eileen (her cousin) alike. Lleraya was engaged to King Casamir III of Daggerfall, and Eileen married Prince Adrien of Evermore. Unfortunately, not all went to plan. Amelie proposed to Emeric, hoping to unify the noble houses of High Rock finally, and turn the province into the greatest economic power in Tamriel, but the elderly man 'kindly' refused - causing her to resort to a game of patience.


Within two decades, both Lleraya and Eileen had given birth to children of their own - inheritors to the thrones of both Daggerfall and Evermore, and Emeric was approaching his last breath. House Montclair found itself to be the most powerful noble house in High Rock. With her expanded influence, and her trade monopoly extending to almost every province, the Montclairs had assembled enough influence and power for Amelie to finally set her true plan into motion. Surprising most everyone, whom saw her to be a ruthless, almost tyrannical leader, Amelie approached the leaders of the provinces, calling for a meet on the island of Stirk. Empress Rhea Petilia, King Fahara'jad, Queen Ayrenn, King Camoran, High King Jorunn, the Tribunal, all were present, among other representatives of the provinces to hear out Lady Montclair's plea.


Amelie managed to introduce a new treaty, encompassing all the provinces of Tamriel, and ensuring a long-lasting peace. The leader of each province would convene in the Imperial City every full moon to discuss concerns, intentions, and merely avoid conflict between the provinces. It seemed promising... until Tiber Septim.


His invasion of High Rock forced House Montclair to retreat, and reduce its influence in the surrounding regions of High Rock to focus their defence on Rivenspire. Though not being utterly devastated, once High Rock regained its independence, the other noble houses used the opportunity to 'set up shop' in place of House Montclair. Once again re-introducing the old fractious kingdom it once was. Amelie hadn't given up, but she allowed House Montclair to retain its foothold in Rivenspire, and began to rebuild from within - content to leave the other regions of High Rock for now.


It wasn't until 3E 417, and the Warp in the West, did House Montclair begin its movements. Quickly attempting to use the event to pressure the regions of High Rock into unifying once more. Though successful for the most part, the five remaining regions still remained separated, though on amicable terms. It was better than before at least. Northpoint and Evermore came under joint rule, and House Montclair made occasional attempts to push their influence southward, but the forces of Camlorn, Daggerfall and Wayrest proved difficult to overcome. It would seem Amelie needed a new weapon, and the rise of the Dragons may be just that.