Hey Tiaz, this sounds epic so yeah I'll try joining if you guys still need people. But can only get started earliest at sunday though, but after that I can probably be active whenever.
Name: Jokar Sadras
Age: 160ish (young for a Dunmer)
Sex: Male
Race: [Within the constraints of the Elder Scrolls.] Dunmer (Dark elf)
Occupation: [Include the occupation or “class” your character can be associated with.] The type of class would be a nightblade sort of class, but with the evolution of guns and firearms I'm not sure what that would be classed as, but he's good at sneaking around and not drawing attention I guess.
Birthplace: Solstheim, Raven Rock
Current Residence: Cyrodiil
Alliances or Affiliations: [Realistically, Eg: They cannot be the Harbinger of destruction or a general.] Well, Jokar is a dunmer, and Dunmer aren't really forced into any faction like that really, they're elves, so they can join the Thalmor I suppose, and the Empire takes any races as well more or less, and The Aldwyn... Yeah I don't know anything about them, so just tell me which faction that needs me the most and suits Dunmer most and I'll join that one I guess.
Appearance: Back-slicked dark hair, light-blue skin colour (but not too light, still pretty dark, if that makes sense) tall and slender, not overly muscular, bit still a good strong physique. Dark red eyes and a neatly shaved dark beard. Also a large scar crossing his left eye. A large tatoo of a three-headed Hydra on his chest and another identical on his right arm.
Personality:
POSITIVE: clever, strong-minded.
NEGATIVE: Dishonourable (Will do what is necessary to survive), sly, Socially unable (Not good at keeping a conversation going with team mates or others, no matter how hard he tries.)
Likes: Illusions, Wine, fire, Redguards, Dunmer.
Dislikes:Royals, nobles, merchants, Vampires (If these exists in this "universe")
Marriage: No longer.
Weapons: Personalised Machete strapped to his back, along with a smaller automatic pistol.
Armour: Light armor set, bulletproof vest and a scarlet scarf, also a primitive illusion device, making him harder to spot (If this sounds too OP then I'll remove it)
History: [Include as absolutely much as possible about your character's history. Who he/she is as a person, how they came to be who and where they are, and why. As well as giving a reasonable explanation why they are in a specific place or interested in the recent mysterious events.]
I was born in the mines under Raven Rock, my parents were slaves, just as most of the workers in the mines, when I was 8 years old, a tunnel collapsed and my mother died. My father, who had warned the guards about how instable the new tunnels were, went absolutely berzerk, and attacked the nearest guard with his mining tools, he was shot through the stomach instantly. Many other slaves attacked the guards as well when they heard of this, and Redoran soldiers were sent into the mines with orders to eradicate all pockets of slave resistances. The executions lasted for a week, during which both screams and bullet shots could be heard all over the city. I survived by hiding in the ventilation systems, I was 7 years old. Once the Redoran Guard were finished with the slaves, they closed the mine for public, I was still inside.
After the third day, the hunger consumed me, and I was forced to eat of the dead, it was repulsive, and I threw up at first, but I had to do it to survive. After a week, I heard whispers coming from further into the tunnels, and I slowly pushed myself towards it. The whispers increased in volume until everything else became nullified by the noise, and I felt wind. The whisper was the wind, one of the new tunnels had collapsed, revealing a small opening back to the surface, I crawled up the small hole, and finally reached the surface. I snuck (probably the wrong word...) onto one of the larger cargo ships and left all about Solstheim behind me, I never spoke of my childhood again.
On my 20th birthday, I volunteered into a Redguard foreign legion, tasked with organising small raids into Orsinium. I fought for 40 years in Hammerfell, raiding and pillaging with the others in my task force, giving me a healthy respect for all Redguards, as well as the other Dunmer in my unit, Jessara.
Me and Jessara eventually left Hammerfell together, and married in Skyrim, where we lived together for 20 years on a farm we purchased with the money earnt from the foreign legion. Until the day a group of Nord militia came to the farm and put it to the torch, giving us the blame for a series of murders in the nearby villages. We managed to escape to a nearby cave, which we holed up in for a while, as the Nords tried waiting for an opportunity to catch us. Once they grew too impatient, some tried charging straight into the cave, we were caught off guard, and someone struck my wife Jessara with a lucky shot in her neck, incapacitating her. I reacted quick enough and dispersed them. But Jessara died in that cave from the wound. Overcome with grief, I left the cave during the night, and slit the throats of the last militias that had not already give up or charged in earlier. Afterwards I felt hollow inside, I grabbed one of their light jeeps and made my way toward the main road into Cyrodiil. For a hundred years I served as a mercenary in the street fights, often given jobs such as assasinations, espionage, or sabotage. In the end I hosted a clan of my own in the underworld of the capital, with the three-headed hydra as it's emblem, and I called it Jessara. We grew quickly, and quickly made a name of ourselves. Until the other clans made peace to commonly wipe us out. Once again I was hunted like an animal. I ran to another district, one untouched by the vicious clan wars, and word about another kind of word reached me, one on a much larger scale.
(Sorry if some details seem really vague, I kind of had to rush this through tonight, can do a more detailed version later if necessary.)