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    Majir-Dar

    Confused Khajiit
    The Emperor of Tamriel has just been assassinated by the Dark Brotherhood. Several men eye the throne, and Amaund Motierre, a man who was once thought to be a grand replacement for the Emperor, has been slain in Skyrim at the Bannered Mare. In a time of turmoil with the Thalmor, of rebuilding for many, and of a rise of dragons even outside Skyrim, the Empire is as weak as its ever been with its collapse closer than perhaps ever before, even with Alduin slain. Is there a man or woman that can drive the Empire into glory once more? Or will he or she drive it into it's final resting place and let dragons, rebellions, and indeed the Thalmor themselves to run amok on once powerful, Imperial land. Will you pick up the poisoned dagger and don the black cloak to make yourself an Emperor of the largest Empire to grace Tamriel? Will you put yourself in others crosshairs, and endure unfathomable shame or respect?

    A second Stormcrown Interrengnum is on the horizon ready to break.

    ~~

    Welcome to my RP, it takes place after Skyrim's final Dark Brotherhood contract if you didn't notice. It could be thought of as a Song of Ice and Fire (Game of Thrones) Elder Scrolls RP Edition. It will take place likely all over Tamriel, but for the majority of the RP it will be in Cyrodiil. You will play as someone craving the throne, and so should be someone of power. However, you could also be a member of the Thalmor, maybe you're leading a peasant rebellion, maybe you're a king/queen/thing from a different province; you can be the "bad guy" so to speak and be against the Empire. Furthermore evrything should be fairly realistic as far as fantasy goes, you will have to manage resources and you can't be some overpowered titan god thing from the nth dimensions of Oblivion.

    The dragonborn is out of play for this. He sailed to Akivir or went into hiding.

    Now, I don't care what CC you use as long as it's detailed. No one sentence histories or anything like that. It should have a brief description of family members as well, as this will likely be similar to one of those battle of the provinces type RPs, except less grand to an extent, because you're dealing more with the family itself and not the army it's wielding.

    All regular RP rules apply, which basically amounts to: ACTUALLY TRY WRITING THIS. Don't give me a CC and only participate or communicate once every two weeks, or once a month. I would like weekly posts, but I'm also a reasonable man. In other words as far as RP rules go, don't be a d*ck. It's as easy as that, and have decent spelling/grammar. Be a mature adult, even if you aren't one. Try. Especially in the OOC, be a decent human being.

    This will be a mature RP: Sex, drugs, etc. are welcome as long as they're introduced in a mature way.

    Finally, and the most important part: contribute to the story of the RP. I encourage you to think for yourself and present ideas that may change the story. I'm not writing an entire, detailed plot for this to follow, because for one thing, the nature of this RP prevents that, but for another the nature of RPs in general prevent that (in my opinion). An RP is a collaborative novel, so to speak, be an author as well as a character.

    And one other thing, I swear to the Nine Divines and the Daedric Princes, I realize that RPs tend to lose steam after awhile, but I'm not having this one die like most. This goes back to not being a d*ck. Post regularly (preferably in the IC and OOC), and keep this machine oiled. Don't join if you know you shouldn't because you're selling your computer a week after the IC thread goes up. Just don't. If you're getting bored with the story, post your thoughts in the OOC and everyone will work with you. Don't be that guy, because if you are others will start doing that as well.

    Feel free to post your CC if you're interested.

    ~~

    Members
    Majir-Dar as Vontan Minglumire
    Orien Terrik as Orien Terrik
    Sifu as Arya Valinor
    Sven the Silent as Socusius Direnni
    NightRaven as Vincentia Juniello
     
    Last edited:

    Sifu

    Seeker
    This seems like it'd be an interesting roleplay, and I think I'd be interested in roleplaying as a count or something similar. I'll try and get a CC up soon :D
     

    Orien Terrik

    "Arik tree'ac te kek."
    I'm not sure how your specific Timeline goes for this, mainly those involving the Stormcloak rebellion, and how it was resolved, or if it ever was at all, but I worked into the CC the end of the Stormcloaks. If needed, I can always go in and revise it.

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Basic Information

    Name:
    Orien Terrik

    Alias:
    Legate, Champion, "the One Man Army" (<-- A nickname given to him by legion soldiers and Stormcloaks alike after the battle of Fort Kastav.) (Maybe he will earn a few new ones in his time RPing here.)

    Age: 25

    Birth Date:
    24th of Mid Year, 4E 175

    Birth Place: Imperial Legion Camp

    Birth Sign: The Warrior

    Origin/Race:
    Nord/Imperial

    Class: Imperial Heavy Soldier/Officer

    Gender: Male

    Laterality:
    Ambidextrous (Prefers his right hand though.)

    Sexuality:
    Straight

    Marital Status:
    Single

    Alignment:
    The Empire

    Afflictions: None that he knows of.

    Height: 6'8"

    Weight: 286 Lbs

    Build: Extremely muscular. He is a warrior, born and bred into that life. His size comes from His mothers side of the Family, which were Nords. His body fat percentage is extremely low, due to his constant training. He has molded his body through hard training and combat to be the strongest it can be, allowing him to have some amazing strength, but more importantly, great endurance. He is very broad shouldered. (I figure he looks, body wise anyways, a lot like Dwayne Johnson does. Except probably a little bigger due to him being taller and weighing more.)

    Hair Length: He keeps his hair cut pretty short. He tends to shave it for Ceremonial things. When in the field, he puts less importance on his hair and facial hair care, so it may grow a bit. However, he will not let it get to long.

    Hair Color: Dirty Blonde

    Facial Hair: He has stubble, but he shaves when possible.

    Eye Color: Golden (With flecks of blue)

    Skin Color: Very tan. (More tan than a Nord, anyways.)

    Scars: One on the side of his cheek where a blade found a gap in his helmet, one from an arrow on his right Pectoral, where an arrow penetrated, although not to deeply due to his armor. He has a scar on his knee, where an arrow slightly penetrated his armor, however it entered cleanly, and bounced of the bone, leaving no permanent damage. He also has a few other random scars.

    Face: A mix of Nordic and Imperial structure.

    Unique Features: His Golden eyes, something highly unusual in all the races of Men. He was also unusually dark for a Nord, but this could be due to the fact that he was half Imperial as well. He has a burn mark on his left hand.

    War Paint: None

    Tattoos: None

    61181-1-1419922930.jpg

    (Orien)

    Religion: The Nine Divines. (While Talos worship is "Banned, he still practices it, although, in secret.)

    Patron Deity: Talos, Stendarr


    Hobbies: Likes to hunt, fish, and spend time with his soldiers, who he considers his brothers and sisters, no matter their race. He doesn't have very many friends outside of the Legion, if any at all. He is friends with the black smith of Solitude, Beirand, as well as Beirand's wife.

    Family: Mother: Kirsta Terrik - Nord (Deceased), Father: Adrian Herecius Terrik- Imperial (Deceased), Uncle and Aunt: Lilleth and Skjorn Voric - both Nord (Deceased at the time of the Civil War.), His brothers and sisters: His Fellow Legionnaires, no matter their race.

    Personality: Orien is a staunch supporter of the Empire. He is a humble man, not bragging much at all about any of his accomplishments. He tends to be quiet, but if you get some drink in him, and he happens to be around his fellow legionnaires, he can become an interesting fellow for sure. He is a very caring person when it comes to anyone, except the Aldmeri Dominion, and to a lesser extent, the Stormcloaks.

    Positive Traits: He is very caring, and tries his best to make sure the legionnaires under his command feel appreciated and wanted. He is very skilled in battle, having been practically raised in the legion. He is also a Tactical Genius when it comes to planning and executing battle maneuvers and assaults. He prefers to lead by example. He is rarely, if ever, seen leading his soldiers from anywhere but the front lines. He isn't racist at all, although, he tends to be on edge when around the species that are considered to be part of the Aldmeri Dominion (Unless they are Legionnaires). Also, many know of his Reputation as an excellent Commander. This has led him to become somewhat famous in Skyrim.

    Negative Traits: His carrying for his soldiers can cause some issues. His biggest issue is his blood thirstiness when it comes to the Aldmeri Dominion. He has told General Tulias repeatedly that when the war with the Dominion starts up again, he wished to be on the front lines. He also is suspicious of any Thalmor Agent. He can't stand them, and will most of the time go out of his way to make life as miserable as he can for them without stepping out of line. This has caused a few issues before, but nothing to serious.

    Dislikes:
    Liars, Racists, Thalmor, The Aldmeri Dominion, Ulfric Stormcloak, Un-honorable people.

    Fears: He fears just about anything a normal Warrior or person would fear. Orien's trick, however, is he has learned to harness his fear, and turn it into a weapon unto itself, keeping him on edge in battle.

    Aspirations: He hopes to one day Marry, and have children. He hopes, that if he becomes the Emperor, he can return the Empire to its former glory, and create a stable military, and economy for the Empire and it's citizens.

    Quirks: He fletches his own arrows. He also doesn't polish his weapons and armor to give them a nice shine like most other Legionnaires do. He prefers the look of his armor to seem battle worn, as it could pose as a possible fear factor.

    Philosophy: "Upon my honor I do swear undying loyalty to the Emperor... and unwavering obedience to the officers of his great Empire. May those above judge me, and those below take me, if I fail in my duty. I shall protect my Empire from any threat that presents itself, to my dying breath, if need be. Long live the Emperor! Long live the brave Legionnaires! Long live the Empire!"

    Quote: "Does Ulfric not see what he is doing? He is playing right in to the hands of the Dominion, whether he realizes it or not. His rebellion is depleting the Legions supplies, and costing us men. Many legionnaires have left to join him. And still others have deserted this Civil War entirely. He is weakening us, while at the same time, providing the Aldmeri Dominion with time to rebuild their forces even more, and strategize about a new war. Now more than ever, the Empire needs to remain strong, and intact. Skyrim needs the Empire, and the Empire needs its Nord Legions. Does Ulfric not realize he stands no chance against the Dominion with out the support of the Empire? We wre barley able to hold them off the last time, and that was with the Nords! It won't be long before the Dominion come knocking on our door again, and thanks to Ulfric and his Rebellion, we may not be ready. There is a possibility of other threats. Some may be even worse than the Dominion. We need a strong, united force to face these enemies, and frankly, we just don't have it now.


    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Gear:

    Armor: Orien currently wears a heavily modified set of Imperial Champion Heavy Armor, which was the same design put up in a museum to honor his Father, for it had been granted after death to him by the Emperor himself. It is an Imperial Heroic Armor set, with the main color actually being Gold in color instead of the normal steel coloration. It has trims of Red in it as well. On top of the helmet was a crest, made of black Wolf fur, arranged onto a metal crest (Think of the Imperial Full Faced helmet variant, but in a gold Coloration). He has a small, blue cape on the back of his left shoulder with a black Imperial Dragon symbol on it. He uses a modified Imperial Heavy Shield due to his size. There in an increased amount of steel implemented in the design of the shield.

    imperial-salute.jpg

    (Orien's Armor)

    126565.jpg

    (Orien's Shield)


    Weapons: Orien's main weapon is a flanged Ebony Mace. It has blades built around the head, like small swords, so that if the opponent was wearing light armor, or if he had beat the armor enough, the blades would sink into flesh, much like a sword. Its is increased in length due to him being larger than normal people. It is also heavier than your average mace.

    Ebonymace.png


    He also carries and Imperial Sword in a scabbard on his back (I hope you know what an Imperial sword looks like :p). While his shield is considered armor, he has been known to use it in combat as a weapon, bashing people around.

    Misc: A small Nordic knife for hunting (Skinning animals and such), Imperial Bow and steel arrows occasionally (He prefers to be close up in battle though, he feels like it is more honorable).


    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    History/Biography


    Before Childhood (As told by Archivists.): Orien's parents were both Legionnaires, his Father a General, and leader of the Eighth Legion. His mother was a Legate in General Jonna's forces, and was considered to be her second in command. Kirsta and Adrian had met up while Kirsta was temporarily posted in the Imperial city for a time before she joined General Jonna. The two fell in love, and Adrian asked Kirsta to marry him. She accepted, and they got married, making love the night before Krista was scheduled to return to Skyrim. Kirsta left the next morning after, and hooked up with General Jonna and her forces. The following year, as Krista was pregnant with a child, the Imperial City was sacked. Word reached the camp Krista was currently at that the Eighth Legion had stayed behind to fight a rearguard for the remaining Legions to pull back from the city. Word had it they had all perished. Kirsta was struck with grief. Handing the child over to the care of her brother and his wife, Krista marched back with the rest of General Jonna's forces, to rally with the remaining Legions under the Emperors command. As the Legions moved to take back the Imperial City, the Nord legions set up a perimeter around the city, so that no Elf could escape. As the Dominion forces tried to retreat, they ran smack dab into the shield wall where Krista was stationed. The Nords fought ferociously, but their numbers began to thin. Krista sent two messengers to ask for reinforcements to her position. As the messengers were off gathering the needed forces, the Nord numbers continued to thin as the bulk of the Dominion tried to escape the city to retreat. However, Krista and her remaining soldiers stood firm. Krista got struck with an arrow that found a chink in her armor on her sword arm, but she ignored the pain, and kept on fighting. Another arrow found a chink missing in her stomach, and sunk in. Krista fell to one knee, and three of the remaining soldiers began to move towards her, but she stood back up as a High Elf approached to strike her down, and rammed her blade into his face. She stood back up with two arrows in her, and kept fighting. As the reinforcements finally arrived, they saw 100 remaining legionnaires fighting for their lives, Krista in the lead. They ran to help, but arrived just late, as a final arrow found its marked, and pierced throw the neck armor of Krista. She swung her blade once more, taking one more Elf with her, before she fell to the ground, dead. Kirsta and her soldiers actions lead to the Dominion forces staying bottled up in the city, and being slaughtered. The White-Gold Concord got signed, and both Orien's father and mother were commemorated as Champions of the Empire. Orien would have a reputation to live up to. The Great war had ended, but a whole new set of troubles were just beginning.

    Childhood: Orien was raised by his Aunt and Uncle in a small house in Solitude, part of the Haafingar hold. They owned a little shop to sell goods. Orien was fascinated with the city. He would always bother his Uncle with questions about the Legion, and the great war (His uncle fought in some of the first battles of the Great War, but his arm was blasted off by an unknown elven magic, and so he was honorably discharged, and sent home). For the most part, his uncle would be happy to answer. One day, when Orien asked about his parents, his uncle told him they had been soldiers, too, but had passed on to a different life during the Great War. Orien never really asked about his parents again after that. As he grew up in the city, he wasn't very social, and avoided most of the other children, but he got along well with the guards and soldiers there. He was unusually small for his age, and was sometimes picked on. His uncle gave him an Iron dagger at age 8 that he would practice with on the dummies his Uncle had made for him.

    Teenager:
    As he reached his teenage years, he hit a sudden growth spurt, and sky rocketed up. He became a huge, tall, and strong looking teenager. At the age of 15 he was already as tall as his uncle. AT age 16, he signed up for the Legion at Castle Dour, and was sent to Cyrodiil for training. He emerged as a member of the Fourth Legion, and was kept under close watch by General Tullius, for Tullius and Orien's father had served together, and Tullius knew who Orien was. Orien proved to excel in hand to hand combat, as well as one-hand weapons, along with a shield. Due to his continuing growth spurts, both height and muscle wise, his armor had to be constantly tailored for him. During this time, he also learned more about his parents, and decided he was proud to come from such good stock. He also visited the museum where his father and mother had dedicated sections too.

    Adult:

    As he reached the age of 22, Orien was a fine young Legionnaire. He had advanced to the rank of a Praefect. During his time spent in Cyrodiil, there was an issue with an organized bandit crime Syndicate. The Bandits, made up of Dominion races, and lead by an Altmer, where causing trouble that local forces weren't able to handle. The Legion was called in, and so began Orien first taste of true combat. The Organization of the Bandits seemed almost military like. The following years were spent eradicating these Bandits, and attempting to track down their leader, and main base of operations. Finally, after three years of searching, they finally found him. A full scale assault was mounted on the Fort that they were holed up in. The Tribune in charge of the force was struck with an arrow, and went down. Orien ran up to him, and checked for signs of life, but he found none. Instantly taking over command, he urged his remaining forces forward. He charged straight through the front gate, wielding a mace and his shield. He felt a slight pinch in his left shoulder. He looked down and saw an arrow in his shoulder. He broke the haft with his mace, and kept on pushing forward. He fought his way into the depths of the Fort, searching for the Altmer leader, his soldiers backing him up. Orien stumbled upon the Altmer in the Fort's battle room. As Imperial troops entered behind him, he waved them off, as the Altmer looked up at him. "Man has no place on this world." was all he said. The Altmer picked up a sword, and lunged with incredible speed at Orien. Orien moved as quick as he could, but the blade found a small mark as it slipped in between his helmet and his check, cutting it. As the Altmer pulled the sword up and away, Orien's helmet came off. Orien, who had been hunched over due to the fighting, and exhaustion, stood to his full height, towering over the small Altmer. There seemd to be a bit of shock at Orien's size, and in that hesitant moment, Orien lashed out with his shield, and caught the Altmer square in the face. The blow crack something in the elf's neck, but Orien wasn't done yet, as he followed the bash with a swing from his mace. The blow from the mace hit the Altmer, who wasn't wearing a helmet, in the side of his head. There was a cracking noise, and the mace blades dug into the skull. As Orien pulled the mace back, the Altmer fell to the floor in a heap, dead. Orien retrieved his helmet, and took the sword of the Fallen leader. The Legionnaires created a path as he walked out of the Fort. A cheer went up. Orien Reported back to Tullius, and presented the sword as a gift, and as proof, that the deed was done. Orien was then promoted to Tribune. Not long after the Bandits had been dealt with, word came that there was trouble brewing in Skyrim. Thats when the grave news came as well. Torygg had been killed by a Rebellious Jarl named Ulfric Stormcloak, and that he had started a rebellion against the Empire. The Fourth Legion was deployed to Skyrim, and Orien went with them, returning to the land where he was raised. Being Stationed in Solitude at first, he learned that his Aunt and Uncle had been killed by Thalmor Justicars when Orien's Uncle wouldn't give in to interrogation on the matter of Talos Worship. This angered Orien greatly, but he knew he couldn't do anything about it for now. He concentrated his efforts on fighting the rebellion. He began to hate Ulfric more and more as the war progressed. 'Did he not realize he was weakening the Empire? He was making the Legion waste resources and troops on his rebellion instead of the true enemy. How could he be that selfish. Skyrim needed the Empire to fight the Dominion.' He would think to himself constantly. Very Early in the Civil War, Orien became the Hero of Fort Newborne, were he fought back a Stormcloak assault almost single handed, portecting the Imperial Fort. Due to this, and the stunning brilliance of his plan and execution of the capturing of Fort Neugrad, as well as the release of Captured Legionnaires, Orien was transfered back to solitude, and promoted to Legate. Before heading back out to join the fight, the Emperor's cousin, Vittoria Vici, was stuck in a tower outside of Solitude. A Dragon was Attacking! The Guards poured out, trying to kill the beast, but to no avail. The Dragon landed, and Orien, not thinking, charged at it. It shouted fire at him, and he raised his shield. The heat from the fire heated up his handle grip for the shield, burning his hand (He would later implement leather on the grip). However, he continued forward slowly. The Dragon got distracted by a few guards, and Orien ran forward. The Monster of a man threw himself onto the Dragon, and grabbed onto a horn on its head with his burned hand, and started batting at its head with his mace, yelling. He must have done something right, because the Dragon went limp, and collapsed. He tugged on the mace, and pulled it out of the dragon's eye socket. 'I must have been swinging harder than I thought.' He thought to himself. Later that night, after getting his hand treated, he reported to General Tullius, who called him a Imbecile for just charging in like that. Orien slouched. "I saw people in need, so I just sort of felt compelled to help." He said with a sigh. Tullius chuckled, and said, "What you did was brave, even if it was foolish. There is someone here I want you to meet. He is here for his Cousin's wedding." Tullius finished. The Emperor walked forward. Orien was stunned. He bowed instantly in respect. Titus Mede II chuckled. "You have proven yourself to be a very capable Legionnaire, and Commander. You may not have known it, but when you killed the Dragon, you saved my Cousin. General Tullius has proposed something to me. You are to be named a Champion of the Fourth Legion, and to a lesser extent, the Empire. With this title, you shall receive new armor. I believe it is the same that was granted to your parents, although they never got the chance to wear it." The Emperor motioned to a chest inside a room to the right of the war table. "Your armor is in there, go try it on." He finished. Orien stood stunned for a second, but then complied. He shut the door, and after stripping out of his civilian clothes, donned the armor. It was golden colored, with red tinges here and there. A blue cloth was folded up on the bottom. He lifted it up out of the box, and it turned out it wasn't a cloth, but a small, blue cape. He attached the cape to his armor, and then opened the door, exiting. "How does the Armor fit?" Tullius asked?
    "Its a little tight." Orien replied in a joking manner. Tullius chuckled, and Titus Mede II just nodded his head. "Very well. I must be off. Congratulations, Champion." And just like that, the Emperor was gone. And so, Orien is now a Legate, ready to take the fight to the Stormcloaks, and the true enemy, the Aldmeri Dominion, when the time comes. His name has spread throughout Skyrim, and the other lands as the Imperial Champion.

    About a year after he was named the Champion, the Civil War was still raging. Orien had fought on many fronts against the Stormcloaks, and his Reputation had spread a little with them (However, its wasn't until the Second Battle of Whiterun that he earned a nickname from them). After the temporary cease-fire called by the Blades and the Dragonborn, and the Dragonborn having set off to fight Alduin, things seemed like they would calm down. However, a multi-strike assault on a few forts Surrounding Whiterun lead to a breaking of the cease-fire, and a lose of Imperial power in the Territory. The Stormcloaks then pushed to take Whiterun. What the didn't think about is the Garrison at Fort Greymoor, which had been put under Orien's temporary command to help rebuild the Fort due to an increased Stormcloak presence. The Stormcloaks began to assault Whiterun, having amassed what seemed like a huge army. Orien sat and watched stunned along with the rest of his Legionnaires as the great city was set under siege. The Stormcloaks eventually broke through the first gate, and poured up towards the city's entrance. Orien had to do something. That is when he remembered the recent supply train. Cutting the horses loose from their wagons, and supplementing them to the Horses already saddled at the Fort, Orien created what would be come to know as the Makeshift Calvary. He got as many Legionnaires as he could onto horses, and told them to follow him. BY this time, the main Stormcloak army had moved up to the area near the City gates. A small band of brave guards had set up a last line of defense, forming a shield wall, and holding them back as best as they could. Orien and his Calvary shot out of the front of Fort Greymoor. First things first, he take to take care of the Catapults. Orien rode in with his Legionnaires following him. He unhooked his mace from his Belt, ridding hard to the enemy. The Stormcloaks were caught completely off guard. The first man to be slain had his helmet off, and was relaxed. When he suddenly heard a thundering noise, he slowly got up, and turned to see what it was. The only thing he saw was a mace swinging right at his face. The impact bashed his face in, which he deserved for everything he had done in assisting the assault on Whiterun. The Calvary swooped in behind him, and they killed many Stormcloaks. Many more ran away frightened. Orien and his Legionnaires got off their horses, and picked up the torches that were used to set the projectiles on fire, and used them to set the Catapults on fire. Mounting up, they rode fast towards Whiterun. Meanwhile at the City's gates, the shield wall was starting to crumble. The Stormcloaks were pushing hard against it. The Captain in charge of the guard encouraged his men to keep holding out, but moral was starting to slip. At the back of the Stormcloak forces, which happened to be outside on the road from the plains distract, a slow rumbling was heard. They saw smoke rising from where their Catapults had been, and became curious as to what happened. Then the rumbling grew louder, and louder. Suddenly, about forty legionnaires on horse back came around the curve in the road, their horses galloping hard. The Stormcloaks panicked. A feeble shield wall was formed in the rear of the army, however, it couldn't stand up to the might of the horses, which smashed into the shield wall, trampling people underfoot. Orien swung his mace back and forth as hard as he could, hearing popping noises, as well as crunching, and men screaming. The Stormcloaks, hearing the commotion from behind, turned to face the new threat, however, the had forgotten about the battered shield wall of the guards. The gates to the city were thrown open, and reinforcements for the guards joined the wall. The Stormcloaks were caught in between two different forces. Orien's makeshift Calvary pushed deeper into the thick mess of bodies. The horses began to slow down, but the psychological momentum carried by the Legionnaires entrance stayed firm. Stormcloaks began to break ranks, and try and flee around the sides of the Calvary, however not many succeeded. A few minutes later, it was all over. The Stormcloak force was in complete disarray. Those who had not been killed, were either running for their lives, or had been captured. The battle for Whiterun was over. Due to the victory at Whiterun, the power balance had shifted exponentially, as there was only one more sizable Stormcloak army in Skyrim. After the battle of Whiterun, Orien was almost immediately transferred to Fort Kastav, where the Storm cloaks were preparing one last desperate attack.

    A week later, at Fort Kastav, things weren't looking good. The Stormcloaks had sent their last main force to attack the Fort, and it was rather large. Fort Kastav was a recent capture, and hadn't been properly supplied and manned. The one thing on the Empire's side was that the Fort had been captured with little to no structural damage. As the enemy advanced on the fort, Archers on the main wall stood shooting arrows down at the Stormcloaks, who had brought a battering ram to the main gate. This lasted for thirty minutes... Archers shooting the Ram crew, and new crew members running up to take dead and injured ones places. Eventually, the archers ran out of arrows, and had no supplies to draw on. They started throwing rocks and buckets, and a few of them even threw their helmets, however, by this point, the Stormcloaks had begun to break down the wooden gate. As the gate finally shattered and split, the Stormcloaks charged inside, only to be met almost instantly by a shield wall of legion soldiers, with Orien at its head. The Stormcloaks had no time to react, and ran head long into spears, and outstretched swords. Orien began swinging his mace back and forth digging his flanged mace into Stormcloaks left and right, shattering bone and tearing flesh. The shield wall held for a good amount of time, and the Stormcloaks began to pull out, to regroup. Realizing his soldiers were worn out, and low on moral, Orien left out a war cry, and charged after the regrouping Stromcloaks, smashing into the rear. His soldiers followed moments after, charging after their Legate. Even the archers came down to help in this final assault, using swords, knives, and even their bows, as melee weapons, to force back the enemy. Surprised by the ferocity of this random assault, the Stormcloak lines faltered, and then broke. Many ran back down the mountain road, heading back to Windhelm. Fort Kastav had held against the onslaught. Another week passed, and no signs of a Stormcloak counter attack showed. Orien left Fort Kastav, and joined up with General Tulius and Legate Rikke, as well as the main Imperial legion body, who were preparing to assault Windhelm. After the Forward Camp had been set up, Orien and the Legion marched to Windhelm, and as the approached the main bridge, Stormcloak's began attacking them, however, not enough to even slow down the march, and they were dealt with quickly. Approaching the city's gate, Tullius stopped his legion, as catapults launched rocks into the city from their positions in the forward camp. Tulis began a speech: "All right. It's time to deliver the final blow to the Stormcloak rebellion. You have all fought bravely, and sacrificed much to bring us to this point. Ulfric thinks he can hide behind the walls of his castle. But we will fight our way in and drag him out through the rubble to face justice. Because this is the end for them, the Stormcloaks will fight like cornered rats. They will be fierce and crafty. But they are no match for Legionnaires. You are the best and the brightest warriors in Tamriel. Professional soldiers, fearless and devastating. The Emperor will be paying close attention to what happens here today. Men who distinguish themselves will be well rewarded. Ready now! Everyone, with me! For the Empire! For the Legion!". Almost as if on queue, a rock slung from a catapult hit the main gate to the city, and blasted it into splinters. 'That was convenient.' Orien thought to himself as the Legion charged into the city. As Tullius and Rikke worked their way to the Palace of Kings, Orien stayed outside, fighting through the remaining Stormcloaks. Eventually, Rikke exited the Palace, declaring Ulfric the Usurper had been slain. Almost instantly, the remaining Stormcloaks in the village laid down their arms, and gave up. The Empire had won the Civil War. Orien was promoted to General after the Civil War, and returned to Solitude in the days following the sacking of Windhelm, coordinating with the Legion, training new recruits, and being sent on Special missions to hunt down the remaining Stormcloak Soldiers. A few months passed, and word spread back that the Emperor had been slain. Orien was saddened by this news, and rumors began spreading about who the new Emperor would be. Orien was soon being flooded by letters from his fellow legionnaires, especially those he had saved, and even found a letter from Jarl Elisif that suggested he could make a run for Emperor. Deciding to take on the task, Orien decided he would make a bid in the run for the Emperor.
     

    Majir-Dar

    Confused Khajiit
    Originally, I was going to say the Imperiels and Stormcloaks were still at a standstill. However, I like your history enough that I'm willing to say that though the Stormcloaks were defeated, there will still be a few of them running around on their own accord, along with some angry peasants here and there. I think this actually makes for a more interesting situation, as anyone trying to win over Skyrim will have to walk a very thin line so as to not cause another rebellion.

    Long story short, you're in Orien Terrik. What's your dialogue color?

    My own CC will be up sometime today, as promised in my original post.
     

    Majir-Dar

    Confused Khajiit
    Basic
    Name: Vontan Minglumire
    Race: Imperial
    Age: 42
    Gender: Male
    Birth Date: 15 of First Seed
    Birth Place: Imperial City, Cyrodiil
    Laterality: Right Handed
    Sexuality: Heterosexual
    Marital status: Married
    Affiliations: The High Council and Counts of Cyrodiil
    Afflictions: None
    Religion: Eight Divines
    Occupation: Chancellor of the Empire's Elder Council
    Dialogue Color: Yellow

    Personality
    Positive Traits: Smart, Good Humored, Courteous, Ambitious, Patient, Sensible
    Negative Traits: Aggressive, Arrogant, Boastful, Harsh, Vengeful, Dishonest
    Likes: Luxury, Power, Achievement, Games, Coin, Business, Loyalty, Respect
    Dislikes: Losing, Loss of Power, Vulgarity, Fools
    Quirks: Rolls a Coin Over his Knuckles when Bored, Almost Always Protected by Bodyguards
    Hobbies: Wine Tasting, The Harp, Learning/Reading
    Fears: Ophidiophobia (Fear of Snakes)

    Appearance
    Hair Style: Short
    Facial Hair: None
    Hair Colour: Light Brown
    Eye Colour: Blue
    Skin Colour: White with Very Little Tan
    Height: 5'7"
    Weight: 170 lb
    Build: Very Little Muscle
    Scars: None
    Clothes: Attire of Imperial Nobility

    Family Members
    Wife: Raesa Minglumire- grew up with Vontan as a childhood friend; age: 39
    Daughter: Larina Minglumire- loves exploring and climbing; age: 9
    Son: Silus Minglumire- has an affinity towards magic and is often sickly; age: 13

    History
    Vontan's childhood was rife with music lessons, teachings from professional tutors, and other luxuries afforded to the rich and affluent that the poor so often yearned for with undead determination. When he wasn't learning something, anything, he was often at parties where his family could show him around like a trophy. Where other children may have hated this life, he thrived on it, becoming a model son his parents could be proud of. They often set him up on play dates with the neighbors' daughter, Raesa, hoping the two would form a bond. Although it was only learned later, Vontan's parents had every intent to set him up with her, as her parents were very wealthy traders that made their name selling rich clothes and precious jewelry, along with others cargo if room was available.

    Vontan grew up in the Imperial City where one of his ancestors was a Chancellor of the Imperial Council, Thane Minglumire. Although Thane had his shortcomings, particularly in dealing with Empress Katariah, he was also very successful, having been the Minglumire to bring power to the name. He was a very wealthy and powerful man, and Vontan looked up to him greatly, aspiring to be a more successful version of the man no matter the cost.

    As he reached his teenage years, Vontan became obsessed with learning every aspect of economy, politics, the histories of the fields, and the history of Tamriel itself. His parents, though originally pleased their son was ambitious in his learning, quickly became worried their son was going to turn into a recluse, as he shunned the outside more often than not.

    To help abate his parents' fear, he would often wander into the Elven Gardens District for his studying where he would at least be outside and around other people. As he was studying one day, he noticed an insect climb onto a mushroom and then promptly proceed to die. He watched its dead limbs spasm sporadically and as he did so he gained an appreciation of poisons and their effects. Although he was curious about the production of poisons, he found his curiousity for such died when he was bitten by a snake and nearly perished in the Elven Gardens.

    In later years he would often coat his dagger in poison, but he could never bring himself to make it, and his fear of snakes cemented from that day forward.

    As an adult Vontan would see himself rise to power as Chancellor, just as his forefather had done. He rose easily, having formed a friendship with the High Chancellor, Amantius Vodunius, himself. He would also see himself marry his childhood friend and eventually have two kids, with the intent of having more. However his wife's womb proved infertile after his two and he thanked the Eight for at least that much. Afterall, it was hard to be angry with the gods that allowed you to marry into wealth and inherit your dead parents' property, which all amounted to making you one of the richest men in the Imperial City, and therefor one of the richest men in all of Tamriel.

    As he got used to his position, he found his greatest opponent to be a Breton by the name of Amaund Motierre. The man, like Vontan, was of very old and powerful descent, and he proved to be cunning as well. Vontan was considering having the man assassinated, preferably by the Dark Brotherhood though he heard they had fallen somewhat, when he received the news of his death in Skyrim at a peasant tavern of all places.

    Vontan beamed as he imagined the headline "Chancellor Amaund Motierre Found Dead After A Night Of Whoring?" Nonetheless his glee was short-lived when he heard of the Emeperor's assassination and the conflicting reports on the Dark Brotherhood. If they were truly responsible for the Emperor's death, this put every man and mer at risk of assassination once more. Beyond even that, threats were cropping up like corn all around the Empire, threatening its borders and its stability like a catapult to a city gate.

    He wasn't blind to the favorable aspects of the Emperor's death, though. There was an empty throne and who better to sit on its cushion than a faithful Chancellor of the Empire's very own Elder Council?
     

    Majir-Dar

    Confused Khajiit
    My own CC is finally up. What took so long? The sweet song of Dark Souls calling me away from my computer and to my TV with controller in hand.

    At any rate, I figure we'll get started when we have at least five or six people.
     

    Sifu

    Seeker
    Name: Arya Valinor
    Race: Bosmer
    Age: 64 (Appears to be in late 20's, due to her Elven lifespan)
    Gender: Female
    Birth Date: 3rd of Mid Year, 4E 137
    Birth Place: Arenthia, Valenwood
    Marital Status: Widowed
    Affiliations: The Thieves Guild, Court of Bravil
    Afflictions: None
    Religion: None
    Title: Countess of Bravil

    Personality: Arya is an exceptionally driven and fiercely intelligent woman. She commands a sharp wit, and is both resourceful and ambitious. Her life as a rogue drifting from city to city has made her street smart and independent, and while her recent endeavor into the court dramas and political intrigues of Cyrodiil are a far cry from her past as a thief, she certainly has not forgotten her roots. Arya's ambitions can sometimes be seen as acts of ruthlessness, however she maintains a (somewhat) kind heart and holds a soft spot for the weary, the poor, and the downtrodden. Despite her position as Bravillian nobility, Arya does not shy away from voicing her annoyance with formalities and trivialities associated with the Court.

    Appearance: Arya is quite beautiful, with strong Elven features such as a small, pointed chin and pronounced cheekbones along with the obvious set of elongated ears. She has striking green eyes of a lighter shade, often being likened to shining emeralds. Her hair is a lighter shade of auburn, and is often tied or braided back into a bun or ponytail. When formal occasions arise, she wears attire appropriate of nobility. However typically she is content to wear much more modest clothing.

    Family Members:
    Alma Valinor -
    Arya's younger sister, Alma has been a lifelong companion of Arya. Alma is currently the reigning Master of the Cyrodiilic Thieves Guild, a position passed down to her by Arya following Arya's ascension (or as some would view it, demotion) as Countess of Bravil. (Age 60)
    Maric Valinor - Arya's younger brother and the youngest of his two siblings, Maric is no stranger to getting the short stick of things by his two imposing sisters. However, having had to rely on their guidance and protection all his life has made him fiercely loyal. Although quiet and somewhat slow, Maric has been appointed as the head of the city guard and personal bodyguard of the Countess. (Age 57)
    Aleister Hawkford (deceased) - Arya's late husband, who after merely a month of marriage tragically met his end after a supposed shaving accident. Aleister was the only child and sole heir of Ron Hawkford, Bravil's former Count who met his end in 4E 188 when the city erupted into violence following disputes between factions of drug traffickers.

    History:
    It would seem as if all her life, Arya Valinor has had to fight for her place in the world. She and her siblings are no stranger to hardship and loss, growing up in the city of Anvil where Arya spent the majority of her childhood. From a young age, Arya had been the protector and parent of her two younger siblings. Without their actual parents in the picture, and being forced to struggle and fight for survival, Arya had little time for a childhood and had to grow up fast.

    Arya and her parents were originally from the city of Arenthia in Valenwood. Arya spent the first seven years of her life in Thalmor occupied Valenwood, and although she does not remember much of what it was like, she still recalls memories of a highly militarized, Elven supremacist autocracy where sympathizing with the Empire of Man was a crime punishable by death.


    When Arya's mother first became pregnant with her third child, Arya's father plotted to smuggle his family just North into Cyrodiil. Arya's father was originally from Cyrodiil, and spent most of his life within the Empire before moving to Valenwood not long before the province seceded from the Empire and alligned with the Dominion. Because of this, Arya's father was the subject of suspicion and close observation by Thalmor authorities. When it was discovered he planned to smuggle his family out of the province, the Thalmor had all the reason they needed to have him executed.

    However, before he was detained Arya's father managed to exact his plan; and Arya, her pregnant mother, and her sister Alma fled North where they managed to cross the border with the help of a former Imperial ranger. Upon arriving in Cyrodiil, with little money, no home, and no connections, Arya's family took to begging in the city of Anvil. It was here where Arya would first encounter the Thieves Guild, becoming a favorite of the thieves operating within the city due to her perception and wit. She would act as their eyes and ears, scouting out potential scores and sharing rumors and gossip. She became particularly close with a woman named Claudia, an older thief who had a soft spot for Arya and her family. Claudia would introduce Arya to thievery, showing her the ropes and basics of being a rogue. And so, as a young girl Arya would turn to snatching coin purses and pickpocketing rather than simply begging for coin.

    Soon after, Arya's mother would die giving birth to her third child, Maric. This was a defining moment in Arya's life, as she would now have to step up and fill the role as a guardian for her younger siblings. With the help of Claudia and the Thieves Guild, Arya would protect and provide for her siblings no matter what.


    Eventually, the children would be taken under the wing of the Thieves Guild in Anvil. Living in a base of operations under the guise of an unsuspecting tavern, Arya and her siblings would become akin to prodigies to Claudia and the other thieves. As they grew older, they became more adept at lockpicking, stealth and pickpocketing. To the point where their skills could be considered quite proficient. Arya in particular showed exceptional prowess, always taking initiative and never backing down from a challenge.

    For years, she would further harness her skills as a thief, rising in the ranks and pulling off several heists within the city. She did blunder here and there, spending brief stints in jail if she couldn't bribe her way out of things. However, by the time she was 30 Arya had proven herself to be an expert thief. For some time, things were certainly looking up for her and her siblings. They had money, had homes, and were generally happy as a thief could be.

    And then, the Great War began.

    Anvil was one of the first cities besieged in the war. The Dominion forces quickly overran initial Imperial defenses, sweeping through the countryside in a torrent of arcane fire. The city guards of Anvil had no idea what hit them. Totally unprepared, and caught completely by surprise, Anvil was quickly sacked and razed. The Thieves Guild in Anvil was nearly completely destroyed, with Arya's mentor Claudia being killed in the chaos and the remaining guild members either scattered or sharing the same fate. Arya and her siblings fled from the burning city, attempting to regroup with other members of the guild in Kvatch. She established contact with other thieves, however, as the war raged on much of the Cyrodillic guild would be destroyed and lost to the chaos.

    And so, keeping under the radar as the conflict raged across the province, Arya plotted to take control of the guild. When the former Guildmaster was killed in the initial sacking of the Imperial City, nothing stood in her way. She took the reigns, challenging any who disputed her authority and coming out on top as the self-proclaimed Master of the Thieves Guild.

    Once the White-Gold Concordat was signed, Arya settled in the destitute city of Bravil. However, the city had become a playground for multiple groups of skooma traffickers. Always looking to capitalize on the situation, Arya intentionally pitted the groups against each other by way of spreading false rumors and circulating information which formed bitter rivalries between the drug peddlers. This culminated in the year of 4E 188, when the city exploded into chaotic riots and pandemonium. Resulting in the destruction of most of the drug trade within the city, as well as the Count's palace being stormed and the Count Ron Hawkford himself flung over a balcony and killed.

    With the drug traffickers wiped out, Arya cemented the Thieves Guild as the dominant underworld presence in Bravil. For years, she slowly oversaw the rebuilding of the fractured guild, which continued to regain its strength as time passed. Eventually, Arya would learn of the Empress Katariah, and would be inspired by the tale of the Elven woman who sat upon the Ruby Throne. This, and the fact that the city guard continued to prove a hassle for the Guild would set her on a path to become the Countess of Bravil. She left her title as Master of the Guild to her sister, Alma, and adopted a false persona in her mission for power.

    And so, Arya lulled the young Count Aleister Hawkford, son of the late Ron Hawkford with her charm and beauty. Which was not a hard task, considering the man's perverse and lustful nature. She played the part of a naive, unassuming girl from a far away land. And after a few months of this acting, Aleister courted her and made her his wife.

    A month later, Arya had her brother Maric slice open Aleister's throat in the latrine. It was made to appear as a simple shaving accident, and few suspected Aleister's Elven wife of such a heinous crime. That is, until, she took power as Countess in the absence of any heir. Many of the other Counts and nobility of Cyrodiil looked upon her with suspicion and distrust, writing her off as a Thalmor spy. However, none challenged her claim to Bravil's throne. With the city guard under her thumb, she now controls a haven for the Thieves Guild where members can operate freely.

    Now, with the Emperor dead, the ambitious Arya Valinor has set her eyes upon the coveted Ruby Throne...
     

    Sifu

    Seeker
    Tell me what you guys think, I'm open to any criticism or advice and I can change up my character accordingly.
     

    Majir-Dar

    Confused Khajiit
    Tell me what you guys think, I'm open to any criticism or advice and I can change up my character accordingly.
    I really like your character, there's not a need to change a thing. She's a complete opposite of Vontan, even being inspired by the opposite person (Katariah instead of Thane). It'll be interesting, and if you didn't notice, you're in. What's your dialogue color?
     

    Sifu

    Seeker
    Thanks! :D And yeah, the fact that they're opposites will definitely lead to some interesting interaction.

    And my dialogue color is orange.
     

    Blitzz

    A Friendly Brit
    Definitely interested! This forum has been surprisingly lacking in ASOIAF RPs lately, this looks perfect. I won't be able to post a CC tonight but I will do my best to have one up tomorrow.
     

    Blitzz

    A Friendly Brit
    Sorry for not getting a CC up, it won't be tonight either I'm afraid, I've had a rough couple of days buy should be able to fix something up by the weekend, at the weekend at the latest.
     

    Majir-Dar

    Confused Khajiit
    Sorry for not getting a CC up, it won't be tonight either I'm afraid, I've had a rough couple of days buy should be able to fix something up by the weekend, at the weekend at the latest.
    Alright that's fine.
     

    Sven the Silent

    Prince of Orange
    Appearance:

    Name:
    Socucius Direnni
    Age: 38
    Race: Breton
    Gender: Male
    Height: 6'2''
    Weight: 180 lbs
    Build: He appears to be tall and some what thin yet musculair, something that suggests that he does try to keep himself in good shape but not to the extend that someone whom uses physical combat would train themselves.
    Hair Length: The hair is layered to around 1-2 inches. With a short, horizontally straight cut fringe.
    Hair Colour: A dark brown colour that matches the colour of his beard perfectly.
    Facial Hair: He keeps a rather well maintained, short and trimmed beard that makes him look slightly older then he actually is.
    Eye Colour: A very pure, bright and sharp colour of blue.
    Skin Colour: White that lingers on pale, his face and arms are slightly more tan compared to the rest of his body, most likely from exposure to the sun.
    Scars: His body features no visible scars, which shows his flawless or perhaps non existent record in combat.
    Casual Attire: A set of noble robes combined with matching shoes, the set is some what colourful and shows of his wealth and status. Around his neck the basis of an amulet can be seen, it has been modified to resemble the Amulet of the Elder Council but closer inspection would reveal that it's an Amulet of Articulation. On his right hand there is one single ring on his index finger which boosts the rate at which the wearer regenerates magicka. On his head rests a circlet made of silver with added sapphires to increase its value and to make it seem more expensive, as with the rest of his jewellery it is enchanted. The circlet appears to boost the wearers magicka, possibly with dozens of points.


    Character Information:

    Title:
    Castellan of Balfiera
    Birth Date: 13th of Rain's Hand, 4E 164
    Birth Place: The Isle of Balfiera, High Rock
    Birthsign: The Shadow
    Class: User of the Arcane, a gifted mage in Conjuriation, especially Necromancy. And to a lesser extend in Alteration
    Laterality: Favours his right hand when writing or holding objects, but is equally gifted with both hands when it comes to practising magic
    Marital Status: Single
    Affiliations: Clan Direnni, Elder Council, Clan Motierre
    Afflictions: Weakened Soul
    Religion: Deadric Worship
    Patron Deity: Hermaeus Mora, Jyggalag
    Habits: He doesn't appear to have any odd habits, something which can be seen as odd in its own way. He focuses on appearing as honest, sincere and nice as he can be and will always keep his calm and polite manner of speech. One thing he frequently does and something that could be seen as a habit is helping the poor and unfortunate, even when nobody is watching. He does so to make the common people like him more, and to appear as even more of a good person in high society.
    Hobbies: He enjoys practising his Conjuriation spells, the ones associated with Necromancy in particular. He has already mastered and perfected the ability to raise corpses or even thralls, as a result of this he seeks to further his powers. His dealings with the Ideal Masters, and the Soul Cairn in general have provided him with the ability to summon powerful undead directly from the Soul Cairn. This is not enough for him however, so he seeks to find a way to summon even more powerful undead such as the Boneyard Keepers or the Reaper. Another thing he enjoys doing is Enchanting, but to a lesser extend. His studies in Conjuration take up most of his free time. When away from locations that he can practise his Conjuration he can also be seen reading quite often, mostly about history.
    Positive traits: Intelligent, patient, brave, calm, charming, confident, disciplined, creative, friendly
    Negative Traits: Stubborn, cunning, selfish, unpredictable, dishonest, cold, merciless
    Likes/Loves: He enjoys dealing with the Deadric Princes because they hold great power and wisdom, practising his Conjuration, discussions and political debates, studying the history of Tamriel and that of his own clan and family, quality products and furniture, the fine arts and culture of high society, mixed feelings on the Aldmeri Dominion.
    Dislikes/Hates: The weak state the Empire has transformed in over the last couple of decades, the Stormcloak rebellion and especially Ulfric because he seems like an unintelligent brute that is uncapable of seeing the long term effects of his actions on both Skyrim and Tamriel, mixed feelings on the Aldmeri Dominion. He also dislikes people that attempt to show their physical strength, he sees it as primitive and a sign of low intelligence.
    Fears: The thing he fears most is that he may some day lose his magical abilities and to a lesser extend that some how his practising in the dark art of Necromancy is revealed to the public.
    Aspirations: He seeks to restore the power that Clan Direnni once held. He plans to use his influence and that of the Motierre clan to unite the five kingdoms in High Rock, so he may make the province the seat of an Empire once more.
    Weakness: His desire for power can be seen as his weakness, he survived entering the Soul Cairn once but intends to do so a second time to gain even more powerful creatures that he may summon. And to a lesser extend he hopes to reclaim the small portion of his soul that he stored inside the Soul Cairn to be able to travel throughout the plane.

    Family Members:


    Quaranir Direnni:
    Part of the Altmer population on the Isle of Balfiera and former Castellan of Balfiera. He has a big influence on his son and some speculate that he only stepped down from the position of Castellan of Balfiera so that his Breton son may fulfill their shared goals for the family. He knew that as an Altmer he would not be able to advance far in the politics in Tamriel this day and age, so he partly uses his son to accomplish what he could not. (Age 123)
    Erissare Direnni: Part of the Altmer population on the isle of Balfiera, current wife to Quaranir. Step-mother to Socucius but treats him as one of her own despite him not being of the Altmer race. Has a daughter with Quaranir, she got married to him two years after his marriage with Envangeline ended. (Age 94)
    Sontaire Direnni: Part of the Altmer population on the isle of Balfiera, daughter to Quaranir and Evangeline, sister of Socucius. Equally interested in the art of Conjuration, some say that she too will be influenced by her father. Has a very close relationship with Socucius, often spends time with him. (Age 24)
    Ainethach Motierre: Part of the Balfiera island predominantly inhabited by Bretons, step-father to Socucius. Veteran Imperial battlemage, currently retired. Got married to Evangeline in his early forties and had a son with her. Suspects the Direnni of having a bad influence on Socucius and therefor has an uneasy relationship with him. (Age 63)
    Envangeline Motierre: Once a part of the small yet growing Breton population on the Isle of Balfiera but moved to Upvale after her first divorce, ex-wife to Quaranir. Got pregnant at the young age of fourteen, some speculate that she was nothing but a toy to Quaranir. Their marriage ended seven years after their son was born, they seperated in a normal fashion. They do not speak regularly and do not intend to visit eachother, but when encountered speak normally and do not avoid eachother. Got married to a Breton male in her early thirties and had another son. (Age 52)
    Baragon Motierre: Son to Evangeline and Ainethach, brother to Socucius. Followed in his fathers footsteps and became an Imperial battlemage, currently resides in Cyrodiil but often visits High Rock to visit his family. Fanatic of the Empire, hates Altmer with a passion and therefor also Socucius whom is the son of one. (Age 21)

    History:

    Socucius grew up with both Altmer and Breton culture and has gathered knowledge on both subjects over the years. His father was quick to test him for any magical capabilities, as is common for an Altmer to do with his childern. Fortunately having an Altmer for a father and a Breton for a mother almost always guarantees that the child is magically gifted, this was also the case with Socucius and so his training started at a young age. Rather then being allowed to practise magic right away he was forced to sit behind a desk and read books about the various schools of magic and on how to utilise your magicka to the best of your abilities. At heart he was a normal child though, so he often went out to play rather then study, something which annoyed his father. It also delayed his studies for a few years, but eventually he shaped up and focused on learning rather then playing.

    His parents divorce wasn't all that hard on him, sure it was troubeling at first, but the fact that his parents lived only a short distance away from eachother made it easy to go see or stay with whom he wished. Even though his parents weren't together anymore he could still visit the both of them at any time he wanted too. The Balfiera islands faced little of the troubles that the hunderds of small kingdoms of High Rock faced at the time so his youth was a calm and despite it all a happy one. There was never any bloodshed or real danger, the isles were in fact a neutral zone, a place for peace. Each of the existing Kingdoms would come to their island, just to negotiate and arrange peace treaties or alliances with eachother.

    The first school of magic he was introduced to was Alteration, it being the safest of schools of magic. Some of the first spells he ever cast were Candlelight and Magelight, not exactly the most exciting magic spell to be casting. Especially if you've spend a long time preparing and studying magic and the dangers it holds. He eventually begin to experiment on his own, the school of magic that drew his attention was Conjuration. The fact that you could summon creatures or bring life to a deceased corpse, all though for a short time, was facinating to him. Once his father eventually found out he only encouraged his son, chasing the school of magic one is most interested in is always encouraged in Altmer culture.

    In his late teens he focused mainly on Conjuration but kept a few useful Alteration spells in mind but never really practised them, unlike the Conjuration spells that he knew. Around this period he also developed an interest in the history of both his families, clan Direnni had been a very powerful clan in the past, and clan Motierre still was. The history of his family eventually brought him to the history of Tamriel in general and to a lesser extend the Nine Divines and their Deadric counterparts. Around this time he also started gaining an interest in politics, the tower was the home to many politics, both good and evil. He picked up quite a few tips and tricks from the visitors and his father.

    Rather then find a job elsewhere he decided to help his father with his politics, many of the Imperial visitors had little time for an Altmer after all that had happened years prior, hence a Breton whom played the loyal Empire supporter was far more well liked. He eventually began to exploit the Empire, providing bandits and even vampires or werewolf sects with information on Imperial troop movements, even of critical supply depots or caravans were not spared. He never acted with his own name though, he used a synonym and maintained a position in the shadows. The various groups or factions provided him with coin, yet those whom became a problem were revealed to the Empire through a careful process. The Kingdom in which the particular group was located received hints or rumours of the location of the group. Afterwards he would use diplomatic means to obtain the information, laying a visible link that showed that he would come to gain the information from the kingdom, and in turn he would negotiate agreements between the Empire and the Kingdoms to coordinate troop movements. This showed that he was capable of gaining information from all the Kingdoms through High Rock and that he was held in high regard. He favoured the art of playing people against eachother for his own benefit, in the end the Empire always came out on top though. Commanders had their honours, parading their captured enemies through the street or giving them public executions to reduce crime, in return he became known and liked amongst those in the Legion who intended to prove themselves. Yet his synonym became known, both hated and admired, those who followed and obeyed were rewarded. Those that did not and became an issue were removed, yet in the end, whether you obeyed or not you would always end up in an Imperial prison or on the end of an Imperial sword.

    In the years leading up to the Stormcloak rebellion he amongst a select few of other Bretons were accepted into the Elder Council, the Empire could ill afford thoughts of rebellion spreading to High Rock and therefor intended to avoid any issues arising amongst their population. He had proved to be a worthy and capable ally in the past so he was introduced in order to voice the concerns of the Kingdoms and to suggest solutions. High Rock society could be divided into a noble elite, a middle class of merchants, and a destitute peasantry. The High Rock nobility is an overwhelming mass of titles, family lines, and hereditary claims that leave most outsiders bewildered at its complexity. The Empire held little footing in attempting to negotiate terms of treaties on their own, they desperately needed Bretons with a high status whom could speak for them. His presence in the Elder Council only increased his influence and power, yet when looked upon he remained modest and kind, only to change shapes when nobody was watching.

    Once he was a proud member of the Elder Council he started focusing on gaining more wealth, yet also started to distribute a small but sizeable portion of it to the poor and unfortunate. Around this time when he only desired more powered he had his encounters with the Soul Cairn and ended up being able to outsmart the Ideal Masters into gaining powerful undead to summon on his command. He also began worshipping Hermaeus Mora, mostly to gain more knowledge on Conjuration and the Ideal Masters so that he would be able to summon even more powerful undead, possibly from other planes of Oblivion. He had already learned of Jygglag and his unfortunate banishment, he had not been freed from his curse for long and had lost many if not all of those whom worshipped him. Socucius intends on being one of the few that attempts to interact with him, hoping to gain powers or artifacts in exchange for his services in providing order and stability, something he already desires himself.

    The dead of the Emperor almost came at a to perfect of a time, it was almost as if fate itself were encouraging him to sit upon the throne. Who was better to lead a fragile and weakend Empire then a Breton whom could raise armies of magic resistant warriors, a resistance against the very weapon the Thalmor thrived upon. Who better to ease the troubles in Skyrim then a Breton also from a province under the Empires rule, one to show that the Empire too could be ruled by a Nord. Who better to ease the tensions with Hammerfell then someone whom could provide them with something else then the face of the Imperial that had betrayed them in their eyes. But most importantly, Skyrim and Cyrodiil were depleted of bodies that could fight and die for the Empire, yet High Rock was capable of raising many more. The Empire needed an army, and he was capable of giving them one.

    Talking Colour: This should do.
     

    Majir-Dar

    Confused Khajiit
    Looks great, Sven, you're in.
     

    Majir-Dar

    Confused Khajiit
    We may just start with us four, but I'll wait the rest of this weekend for one or two more. If no one else joins, four is a fine number and isn't too small for me. Also, just to make sure everyone knows, I did link your CCs in the intro. It should make finding the cards later very easy.
     

    Blitzz

    A Friendly Brit
    Don't wait around for me, the way things are going at the moment I'm not sure I'm going to be able to get into this at all :sadface:
     

    Sven the Silent

    Prince of Orange
    I'm glad i'm in. In hindsight I realise that I've focused perhaps a tad to much on the combat aspect, I just figured attempted assasinations or just forms of combat might occur during the roleplay, hence I presented his skills also.

    That's to bad Blitzz, hope your personal life improves!
     

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