OOC Forsaken Agreement Discussion

[DurableDiction]

This is a new RP and the first one I have created. We are no longer recruiting at the moment.

Rules:

1. Post your CC. Before we can include your character, we will need to know who your character actually is. We would prefer you to post in the Character Profiles thread and then post the link in your initial post, or you could have the link in your signature (like mine), either way works
2. No overpowered characters or actions. Please don't post things like god characters (perfect at everything, immortal, ect.), or post actions like "With a wave of his/her hand, [insert name here] killed [insert outrageous number here] people. Posts like this will be ignored and possibly result in said character's removal. If you are unsure what is considered OP, ask me or any other RP moderator.
3. Be polite and respectful. This goes for OOC posts. We are all here to have fun and be creative. Treat other members with respect, if you do not agree with them or their character, attempt to settle it civilly, either with compromise or (if seriously needed), assistance from a moderator.
4. Do not initiate major plot developments or changes without permission. For example, do not kill off any character without first discussing it with the other members. This goes for members and moderators.

Story thus Far
Athramz is leading a band of allies on an expedition of several Dwarven ruins. He has made promises of fame and fortune. But he has kept a dark secret hidden. This journey is not only for the fame and fortune, but for vengeance and redemption as well.
Clavicus Vile will pay. Dearly.

Current Quest: Introduction
We are currently introducing the first few characters. We are traveling out of Whiterun and on our way to Markarth.

Current Members
DurableDicton (Moderator) as Athramz
KaitoGhost (Moderator) as Ariella
fellowknight as Baroth
Hale Loneshadow as Hale
Blackarrow34 as Holo
Malitiasicarius as Vahlok
Therin as Therin
Artemis Shadows as Grey

 

[KaitoGhost]

Name: Ariella
Race: Bosmer
Class: Mercenary
Sex: Female
Age: 32
Preferred weapons: Greatsword, bow.
Preferred armor: Steel, Medium
Height: 5'6"

Physical features: Amber eyes, auburn hair. Slightly tall and stocky for a Wood Elf. No facial scars.

Personality: Quiet, reserved, suspicious. Dislikes magic, mistrusts those who use it.

Background: Ariella was born in a small village in the Bosmer homeland of Valenwood, where she lived until her 12th year. Her parents were outspoken against the Aldmeri Dominions influence over Valenwood. Her father was a steelsmith, her mother a huntress. Her parents were very devoted and loving, teaching her everything they knew. By her 10th birthday, she was already accompanying her mother on hunts, and a talented apprentice smith.

In the summer of her 12th year, Thalmor soldiers came to her village, to purge any dissidents. Ariella's father and a number of villagers met them, armed with swords, in order to drive them off. The Thalmor wizards burned them alive, then turned on the rest of the village. Her mother, and most of the remaining villagers were killed trying to flee. The last Ariella saw of her home was the Thalmor burning everything down.

Ariella spent the next few years slowly making her way north, away from Valenwood. She settled for a time in the town of Anvil, where she fittingly finished her apprenticeship, with Relen Stoke-Heart and his wife, Ysra. Ysra was a member of the Fighters Guild, and taught Ariella what she knew of combat, how to wield greatswords, how to read her advisary's movements and avoid their blows, how to parry the blows she couldn't avoid.

In her 19th year, graduated to a Journeyman smith, she left the Stoke-Hearts, and signed on with an expedition exploring Aelyid ruins in northern Cyrodil. The expedition was ill-fated, and when the number of the hired guards began to dwindle low, she was called upon to not just repair their arms and armor, but to fight alongside the mercenaries. It was here that she found her true calling. Ysra had taught her well, and she soon distinguished herself with her battle prowess. When the expedition was over, almost 2 years later, Ariella began to travel Tamriel, selling herself out as a freelance mercenary.

The next decade took her from Cyrodil, to Hammerfell, to Morrowind, and briefly to High Rock, before eventually ending up in Skyrim. But she has never forgotten what the Aldmei Dominion did to her home, to her parents. And she has never forgiven.

 

[fellowknight]

Name:Baroth Hermingfel

Race:Nord

Gender:Male

Class:Knight

Age:50

Looks:6'9,caucasin,long blonde braided hair,scruffy beard,hardend face,wrinkles at corners of eyes,green warpaint on left side of face,brown eyes,straight serious eye brows,mainly wears steel armor along with shoulder armor as well.

Personality:Courageous,fearless,serious and determined.Willing to help skyrim in any way he can.And will fight to the last stroke.Mainly fights evil characters,he usually studies a situation before he jumps in.

Weapon:Steel sword and steel shield,may also revert to long bow,if neccesary.Carries sharpened,iron dagger.

Skills:One-handed,sneaking,block,and heavy armor.

Bio:Born and raised in Skryim.He had a pretty normal life,up until 20,when he lost his family to a bandit raid.He hunted the bandits down until he found them,and killed them.After that,he dedicated his life to helping others.He joined the companions but left after a couple of years,for he wished to spread his good deeds across all of Tamriel.Traveled from Skyrim ,to Hamerfell ,to the Dominion,through Cyrodil,to Morrowind,and back to Skyrim to finish the job. He's been having a hard time with the war and all.And the dragons weren't exactly helping. But,never the less,he continued on with his quest to aid Skyrim. He still remembers what adventures he had in the other parts of Tamriel. He remembered his training,from the village he grew up in,to the companions great hall in Whiterun. He would need it,seeing the condition Skyrim was in. And it wouldn't be an easy task,especially not one to be taken lightly.

 

[KaitoGhost]

We've got 3 warriors, and a ranger. A mage, and perhaps a thief/assassin characters would be good to have, to round out the party.

 

[fellowknight]

How about archer?

 

[KaitoGhost]

I think they would tend to fit into the thief/assassin category.

 

[DurableDiction]

Right. However I am not sure what to do to "promote" the RP

 

[KaitoGhost]

Can you edit the title, put "recruiting" in it?

 

[Artemis Shadows]

I'd like to join, I have a thief character that might fit in nice...

 

[Therin]

Name: Therin Lemarché

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Race: Breton

Belief/Religion: Like most Bretons, Therin believes in the Eight Divines, but is not devout.

Titles/Honorifics: Abdicated the title Prince of Evermor.

Profession: Mercenary spellsword

Combat Technique: Conjuration spells with one-handed blade techniques, supplimented with Destruction magic.

Appearance: As an infamous Dunmer once summarized, “Pale skin. Snotty expression. You must be a Breton, the masters of magicka.” Therin is an interesting meld of ancient man and mer bloodlines. His pale skin, blue eyes, and dark, shoulder-length hair are demonstrative of his Nedic forefathers. However, his height (six feet) and slightly pointed ears bespeak of his Aldmeri ancestry. Years of working with sword and shield techniques have developed his body into a well-muscled, but still lithe build. He bears light blue tattoos across his face and body in a mystical pattern.

Personality: Therin has a generally “good” personality. Growing up in High Rock as the first-born in a noble household, his tutors educated him on the ideals of justice, fairness, compassion, and intellect. His father, on the other hand, tempered these ideals with cunning, shrewdness, and egocentrism. After his tutors—and father—gave up on him ascending the throne, his combat trainers showed him the values of determination and hard-work.

Biography: Therin was the firstborn of the ruling family of Evermor in High Rock. As such, he lived his childhood in privilege and did not want for material possessions. As a Breton, his father demanded that his child—and successor—have a quick and perceptive grasp of spellcraft and boast of a resistance to magical energies that even the humblest of Bretons share. While Therin did, indeed, share the latter trait, he could not perform the simplest of spells. Throughout his childhood, Therin’s tutors and father became increasingly aggravated, and Therin became increasingly despondent, over his lack of magical prowess.

When Therin turned five, his little brother was born, and the hourglass on Therin’s life began to run out. At an early age, Therin’s brother showed traits of a natural familiarity with magicka. When he turned five (and Therin was ten), he began his own magical training and went to it like a fish to water. This made their father even angrier. Custom decreed that the first-born son inherit his father’s lands and title, but tradition demanded that the patriarch of the Lemarché family be a powerful magicka user. This positioned Therin’s father between a law of High Rock and a hard place.

During the next five years, Therin started out with a renewed vigor for learning the ways of magicka. Theoretically, he was most interested in the school of Conjuration, but his tutors would often ply him with lessons from the school of Destruction, as they were thought of as “easier”. No matter what school he studied from, though, he could not perform a single spell. In a move of desperation, Lord Lemarché secretly consented to a far-fetched plan that would permanently scar his son forever.

In the dead of night, when the two moons—Masser and Secunda—were high in the sky, Therin’s tutors stole into his room and grabbed the ten year old boy from where he soundly slept. They bound and blindfolded him and took him to the top of the wizards’ tower in the palace. There, they laid the petrified boy upon a table in front of his father. They began tattooing the howling boy from head to toe. The painful ordeal took hours and Therin eventually grew hoarse and passed out. The tattoos formed intricate patterns around his body, the origin of which came from the now-defunct school of Mysticism. It decried Lord Lemarché’s desperation that he resorted to a school that mages everywhere now discredited. The unconscious child was whisked back to his bed and left there. Therin awoke later that morning, still in pain and confused. And still, he could not perform the simplest of spells. After a while, Therin’s father stopped trying to hide the disappointment he felt in his firstborn son.

During his twelfth year, Therin began planning on a new way to gain his father’s accolades. Upon listening to a travelling bard’s description of the ancient times, Therin learned of a legendary group of gladiators called the War Knights. These Bretons, who hailed right from Evermor, were the best fighters that the local arena had to offer. They were greatly feared and respected by locals and foreigners, alike. Therin could not weave a spell to save his life, but maybe his talents lay elsewhere. With this thought as a catalyst, Therin began to study the way of the warrior in hopes that he could gain his father’s respect.

At this point, Therin’s father and magical tutors began shifting their focus from Therin to his brother. Therin’s father had all but written him off. But as much as his father ignored him, this only fueled Therin’s goal. For the next five years, Therin devoted much of his time to the study of combat arms. His body grew and toned. His actions became fluid and natural. As quickly as his brother picked up the magical arts, Therin learned the art of warfare. However, this did not impress his father. In fact, Lord Lemarché viewed combative skills as baseborn, fit only for those Bretons who were not privileged enough to use magic. Instead of gaining his respect, Therin only gained his revulsion. On the eve of Therin’s seventeenth birthday, his mother entered his room alone with tears on her cheeks. She told Therin of his father’s thoughts.

On his eighteenth birthday, Therin would be named Prince-Inherent of Evermor and succeed his father upon his death. This, Lord Lemarché could not allow to happen. If something were to happen to Therin within the next year, then his brother would become Prince-Inherent and be able to rule Evermor and the Lemarché family. Therin’s mother knew her husband and expected the worst. However, she divulged, if Therin disappeared that night and never returned to High Rock, then the customary year of abdication would be over and a continuous line of succession from father to second son could occur. Therin saw the pain on his mother’s face and knew that the pain of his death would be much more than the pain of self-exile. He quickly made up his mind and stole away in the middle of the night.

For the next six years, Therin quickly escaped High Rock and travelled around northern Hammerfell, from Dragonstar to Elhinir. Despite the passing of years since the Second Treaty of Stros M’Kai, hatred of the Aldmeri Dominion was rampant in Hammerfell. It was here that Therin could see the devastation that the Thalmor wrecked on the Empire. This was the primary motivation that ultimately led Therin to Skyrim, where it was rumored the Thalmor were interjecting themselves obtrusively.

Upon entering Skyrim, Therin soon found himself in a small village named Helgen. On his third day in this tiny village, it was by chance that he had a fateful encounter with a dragon. He was standing in Helgen, watching the unexpected trial and execution of Jarl Ulfric by the Imperial General Tullius. As the second prisoner was about to be beheaded, a massive black dragon descended from the sky. Chaos and confusion erupted as the dragon roared and flaming rocks began falling from the sky. Therin rushed forward with his sword drawn but was thrown back by another—different—roar from the dragon. Instead of falling rocks, it felt like a wall of energy impacted Therin. Therin was blown back into a nearby building, the blow blurring his vision. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the blue runic tattoos on his hands and arms were glowing. When he awoke, he was being roughly grabbed and dragged to a nearby door leading outside the village. He thanked the man who was helping him and firmly got his feet under him. He tried to turn back to help the village, but the stranger grabbed him again and said that that village could not be helped any longer. The stranger ran off as Therin stood there trying to decide what to do. Finally, he made up his mind and turned, heading away from Helgen towards Whiterun.

Note: This RP's description didn't offer a timeline relative to Skyrim's main questline, so I took some liberties in making it concurrent with the game. If that's not acceptable, let me know and I'll revise my character's history. His encounter with Alduin in Helgen does not make him dragonborn, it only activates his latent magickal talents.

 

[KaitoGhost]

I like your character, and you bring up a good point. What is the current state of affairs of Skyrim? Is the civil war ended, and if so, who won? Has Alduin been defeated?

 

[Vixen]

Ello's! Fellowknight said I might be interested in this RP. I like your story thus far. Here is my CC, it has been edited a bit from the original in the CC thread. My character's personality is hard to explain so she might come across slightly different then described. If you would like to know more about my writing style my fan fiction "Even Daedra Have Secrets...". Is a good way to learn more about how I write.
Character name: Holo (referance from spice and wolf an anime)
Race: Bosmer
Gender: Female
Class: Thief/free lance assassin
Age: 22
Looks:
Skin: A light bronze color.
Hair: Long, goes about to her rib's, is in loose curls, is a golden blonde.
Eyes: Shaped like large almonds, electric blue.
Face: (almost exactly like my avatar.) Her chin is sharper though.
Ears: Her ears are longer then most Bosmer, she has piercing's going up her left ear. A hoop at the very top of the ear, sliver, gold, or bronze studs from there.
Clothes: Light armor, Black dyed Leather leggings, Black Leather Cuirass that is bare at midriff and is sleeveless, and Leather boots. Wear's a black cloak, and normally carries a cloth sack much like a messenger bag.

Personality: Is friendly to most, unless she just doesn't like you for whatever reason. Drink's alot when she chooses. Has a bit of a short temper at times.
Weapons: Dual-wields two ebony swords, she carries a ebony bow and arrows, has a concealed dagger and use's poisons frequently.
Skills: Sneak, One handed, speechcraft, lock picking, archery, alchemy
Bio: Was born to a wealthy noble family who supported the Aldmeri Dominion. She grew up in Valenwood, never joined any guild, however was extremely talented in theivery. She was unhappy with her family and crossed the border and went to the Imperial City in her late teens, where she made a living stealing important documents for high ranking officials, and killing for hire. Recently crossing the border into Skyrim, because of a huge bounty on her head in the Imperial City.

(Sorry about the long description of how she looks, it tend to put a lot of emphasis on imagery.)

 

[KaitoGhost]

Not bad. I guess now we wait for our leader's input.

 

[Vixen]

Mmmkay! ^-^ Oh snap! I forgot to add something..... Hold up.

 

[Vixen]

Mmmkay! ^-^ Oh snap! I forgot to add something..... Hold up.

Mmmmkay! Got it!

 

[DurableDiction]

Nice to see people taking an interest. I will be making the title change shortly. As for the current state of skyrim, lets say that Alduin is still out there, but not known to us, except Therin. The war in skyrim is about midway, there are still skirmishes every now and again, but the victor isn't decided yet. I'll be working on how to implement you into the story, but would you like to be introduced on the road or in Markarth?

 

[Vixen]

I'm going to guess and say your talking to me. >-< On the road is fine.

 

[DurableDiction]

Talking to everybody, unless I specifically say who (that sounds snide, but it's not). The road huh? Hmmm. How do you feel about robbing random people?

 

[Vixen]

All for it! Can't get much better than robbing people of their coin purses!

 

[DurableDiction]

All for it! Can't get much better than robbing people of their coin purses!

Alright Arrow. So how about this: you stumble upon our camp and attempt t rob us. You get caught trying to steel from me (sorry if that might hurt your pride). Instead of killing you, we decide to let you live. That's the general idea, is there something you'd like to add or change? Like who catches you or who decides to let you live?

And Artemis, if you share your CC I will see what we can do.

Therin, how would you like to be introduced (like when and where and any small details you'd like to indicate)

I want everybody to feel like a vital part of the RP. So don't be afraid of wanting to be in the spotlight sometimes, we will try our best to let everyone have their cool moments

Technical question: How do I change the thread title?