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OOC Morituri Te Salutamus

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Name - Nathanial Crowley
Age - 18
Race - Nord ('Wolf-folk')
Sex - Male
Occupation - Hunter
Faction - Poor
Affliction - Werewolf

Likes - Hunting - Nature - Meat - Dancing - Blood-drinking
Dislikes - Metal - Industry - Cages - Elves - Outsiders

Appearance - A scruffy wild child. Lean, dark and tall at 6'6", with a shaggy head of dark hair flecked with grey and a pale stern face, inset with a pair of keen grey eyes. Nathan often appears grim and sad but is known to have unexpected moments of levity. Scruffy facial hair is short and bristly and his teeth appear unnaturaly white and sharp. Scars adorn a lot of his body including his neck, a collection on his left jaw (where his facial hair is interuppted in its journey along his jaw law), and a multitude on his torso and back. Often remarked as looking older than his 18 winters, this is only due to a hard and taxing upbringing.
Wolf form - A hulking yet lean beast that stands a little taller than his human form at 6'7". His fur is dark grey with a darker (almost black) muzzle, face and hands. His feet are lighter in contrast and (like with his hands) are donned with sharp, keen claws. His pelt is coarse and his ears are mangled and all bent out of shape. His eyes keep their keen nature despite how bestial he has become and his teeth are like rows of razors, the bottom canines long enough top jut from his mouth. His 'mane' leads down his back in a wild, spiky strip and is shaggy and unkempt around his ears and crown.

Bio - The Reach has its Reachmen and the apparently uneventful and boring hold of Falkreath has the 'Wolf-Folk'; natives of the pine forests that were driven into seclusion due to nordic inhabitants shunning and fearing their daedric worship and cruel rituals. No one knows how the 'curse' came to these people yet their legends tell of Hircine birthing the first werewolf out of blood and moonlight and then ripping him apart in order to create the 'Firstborn', the 'Highbloods' or the 'Eight Wolves'. These are considered the ancestors of their kind and any child born into wolf society is 'infected' as soon as it is born.
They praise Hircine and the 'Highbloods' yet are not as openly antagonistic towards their nordic neighbours as the Forsworn are in their mountainous ranges. It is not in nature to aggressively expand as such...yet, when it is time for such movements and the balance must be shifted - the raids they force upon the people of Falkreath entail such savagery that none have ever witnessed.
However, despite his high status as the son of the alpha - Nathan was trained and played the role of hunter for the 'pack'; a lead hunter though, as he seemed to have a natural aptitude for tracking and possessed a keen eye and wise brain. Sure, he took part in the raids, drank the blood of his enemies and feasted upon his deceased mother (as was custom and honour) - yet he was in no way exceptionally malicious...
Until the elves came...
To save his people from annihilation, the elderly alpha struck a pact with the ambassodor...one warrior, every ten years, to supplement the 'fascination factor' of their blood games. The Altmer were disgusted, yet fascinated with these primal people and wanted them to participate in their games...just for curiousities sake.
They chose Nathanial...it was the most damaging blow to the alpha...yet Nathan was fierce and stubborn...the elves had to tranquilise and trap him up to transport him to the arena...because he sure wasn't going quietly.

Skills - Unarmed combat - Hunting - Tracking - Healing (of the natural kind with herbs and plants) - fighting natural things
Weaknesses - His wolfblood disallows rest from sleeping so many days of continuous fighting will severly weaken him - magic - weaponry
 
Lord Hotbod has arrived, everyone, Lord Hotbod. Has. Arrived. So stay calm, don't panic, and have my candy corns. *throws a bunch of candy corns*

Now then, I didn't realize that there is an age limit for a participant. Hrmm...Perhaps I'll just have myself be in another reality altogether for if I am to participate in this 2 years from now, I will no longer have that "young squire who only knows squat" thing since I will be participating in mortal kombat. *MORTAL KOMBAT!*
 
Name: Garrick Neverwin
Race: Imperial
Gender: Male
Age: 18

Appearance: 5'4" in height. Slightly chiseled face topped with short dark brown hair that is usually unkempt. Almond shaped eyes with a hazel colored iris. Light body frame with slightly toned muscles and tan skin tone.

Class: Squire
Skills: Adept "sword-and-board" fighter. Apprentice marksman, preferring the crossbow. Handles light armor well. Singing prowess comparable to a local bard, these acts, at times help rally individuals.

Weapon:
• "Peacekeeper": longsword with opposing edges - blunt and sharpened
• Regular crossbow

Apparel:
• Imperial shield
• Leather chest plate connected to leather gauntlets
• Typical civilian clothing
• Leather greaves

Personality: Aspiring to be a knight, Garrick's overall disposition holds true to the chivalric code - protector of his fellows and of the weak, loyal, disciplined, and shows high regard to women - although at times, he tends to go over his head which usually ends up with him getting hurt.

Background: Spoilered as it doesn't seem to be important in the RP
Garrick and his family lived a simple life in Rorikstead. When the threat of rebellion rose, his father joined the imperial legion without hesitation. Garrick objected to the idea for death is evident in war. His father left nevertheless and left him to be the man of the family until the civil war is over.

Garrick's younger siblings experienced bullying from the nord children in the town, one instance even led to his brother being permanently lame. On that day, Garrick vowed to be a protector of the defenseless. A battalion of imperial soldiers stopped by at the town. Garrick saw this as an opportunity to train as a soldier, and eventually, a knight. A kind legionnaire trained Garrick in the art of swordsmanship and marksmanship, something that is not new to him for his father gave him basic training as a boy. Impressed by his talents, the soldier invited him to join the legion - writing him a letter of recommendation and promised to help guard the town until he comes back. Garrick, filled with eagerness and wanderlust, ventured off to the cit of Solitude, where the Imperial Legion is. He, however, traveled at a terrible time; the civil war was at its ending point with the legion in a disadvantage.

Midway to Haafingar, he witnessed a battle between the Stormcloaks and the legion. Fear showed its face upon Garrick but it was not the horrors of war that made him know terror, it was the image of two familiar faces - his father's and his mentor - being ripped asunder by a hail of arrows. Garrick watched in shock as the barbaric Stormcloaks execute the captured legionnaires, one soldier at a time. As the crimson ocean run dry and as the victors go off to the horizon, Garrick approached his father on the battlefield, barely alive. His father pointed to the direction of Rorikstead, his eyes witnessed plumes of smoke rising up to the open skies. Using all of his strength, the downed soldier gave his special sword and shield to his son. After bidding his father goodbye, Garrick ran as fast as he could to Rorikstead, hoping that his mother and siblings are still alive.

Garrick arrived at Rorikstead and saw a town destroyed, ashes painted the road, debris scattered about, and bodies decorate the fields. Garrick ran with haste to his home and saw it barely intact. He barged in only to see his family's charred remains. The devastated man hugged the bones of his mother and siblings, vowing to them that justice will be served.

RP-specific History:
The Stormcloak rebellion was quelled and the Empire rejoiced in having their order be implemented once again. Garrick, for the first time in his life, found much needed peace his family deserves. Jovial times were cut short in an instant, however, as the Aldmeri Dominion decided to take the northern provinces for themselves. Chaos was once again ripe in the nordic lands. Garrick decided to take action and went with a group of high-spirited rebels. An idea that is not truly best.

Only after a few days of the formation of their group, the Dominion got wind of their operation. His comrades fled at the site of the brooding wizards and the menacing soldiers. Most of them were cut down, some got a few distances but was captured and immediately executed. Garrick, however, stayed and took three soldiers and a wizard before being captured. The Altmer squad that encountered were impressed by his spirit that they toss him in with a group of young individuals, some younger than he.

After what feels to be a long journey, he found himself deep in a forested area. The other prisoners were not with him, but their faint screams from the distance dictates their short time spent within.
 
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