Private *18+* What Dwells Below

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    Aethalia

    Well-Known Member
    Hello, everyone. I am proud to announce that a collaboration between @Thesius and myself has finally borne fruit. What Dwells Below takes elements from several roleplays that both of us have worked on in the past, including What Lurks in the Durk, Nightfall, Dusk, The Lost, and Demons in the Dark.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    It is the year 213 of the fourth era. The dragons of Skyrim are gone, vanquished by the dragonborn years ago. After his duty was completed, the dragonborn too, faded into legend. With the defeat of the World-Eater, the imperials and stormcloaks that had settled on a truce for the duration of the Dragon Crisis, were back at each others throats. The war rekindled with the same savagery as before, and after seven brutal, bloody years of conflict, the war ended with Ulfric Stormcloak named the High King. The Legion retreated over the mountains, back to Cyrodiil, to regroup. The Thalmor, those that survived the purges, swiftly followed them. For a time, Skyrim enjoyed a wary peace.


    However, like most things, the peace did not last. Two years after the conclusion of the war, the king was found dead at an assassins hand. The news through Skyrim into chaos once again, but this time, the empire was ready. A fully rejuvenated legion of imperials marched through the Pale Pass, and crushed the disorganized remnants of Ulfrics army. The deposed jarl of Solitude, Elisif the fair, was reseated, and declared the High Queen. General Tullius and his forces remained in Skyrim as an advisor and peacekeeper of the region. Once again, peace reigned. Helgen was rebuilt, cities expanded,and many of the old forts were manned once again.

    But like Ulfrics' peace, this peace was troubled. The jarls of Windhelm, Dawnstar and Riften strained under Imperial law. Nameless things stirred in marshes of Morthal, and strange occurrences have been reported throughout the province. The legion, though concerned, is still worn out from the war. The Thalmor are more interested in rooting out Talos worshippers than tracking down missing villagers. But something must be done. To that end, couriers are dispatched to every major town and city, and messages are posted. Be they mercenaries, adventurers, and aspiring heroes, all are needed. The messages instruct those interested to meet at the Four Shields Tavern, in Dragonsbridge. Where a fresh mystery has surfaced...


    Timeline

    4e 201- The Dragonborn becomes known to the Grey Beards of High Hrothgar, after Helgen is destroyed by Alduin. The Greybeards and Dragonborn, with the help of a pair of retired Blades, convince the warring Stormcloaks and imperials to agree to a truce.

    4E 203- Alduin is defeated. The remaining dragons are hunted down and slain. The Dragonborn, his task complete, vanishes into legend with his followers and friends, never to be seen again. The civil war begins anew.

    4E 210- Ulfric Stormcloak and his rebels succeed in taking Solitude and routing the imperial forces from Skyrim. Shortly after, Ulfric is crowned the High King. Skyrim is at peace.

    4E 212- The High King is slain by an unknown assassin. Skyrim is plunged back into chaos, and the imperials see their chance. A fresh legion of troops, lead by general Tullius and backed by nords loyal to the empire, march into Skyrim and in a year of vicious conflict, retake the province for the Empire. Near the end of the year, Elisif is crowned High Queen.

    4E 213-Current Year- Times are troubled. Former Stormcloak sympathizers are uniting in Windhelm, Dawnstar, and Riften. Strange creatures are seen in the swamps of Morthal come nightfall. Tales of families gone made and butchering each other in isolated farmhouses are rampant. And worse, the newly rebuilt town of Helgen has apparently been abandoned overnight. Doomsayers and guard captains alike say there is something that preys upon the people of this troubled province.
     

    Aethalia

    Well-Known Member
    Rules
    1: No godmodding. That means no overpowered characters, weapons, spells or armours.

    2: Proper grammar and spelling is a must. I don't mean to sound like a 'grammar nazi', but good grammar and spelling help the story flow, and make your posts seem more professional.

    3: Posts must be at the minimum one paragraph in length. Intro posts must be at least three.

    4: No racist or sexist comments within the OOC, please. IC is alright within reason.

    5: This is an 18+ RP. That means gore, vulgar language, and sexual situations can and will be present.

    6: Building on rule five, I expect any sexual encounters to be written tastefully. No smut.

    7: Remember to include your fellow writers. This is a group effort after all

    8: I know the site has fallen on rough times and the remaining writers are involved in other stories, but please try to be active. One to two posts a week. Please let either myself or Thesius know if you will be unavailable.

    9: An odd rule, but classes. Please try to observe the classes posted ahead of you, and adjust accordingly. We don't want a group of six warriors and a single mage. Now different types of classes/ subclasses, are acceptable. For example: Dual wielding warrior/ Two handed warrior/ Sword and shield warrior. Count as three distinct types.

    Character Card
    Name:



    Age:

    Sex:

    Race:

    Sexuality:

    Relationship/Marital status:

    Laterality:

    Afflictions:

    Appearance:

    Armour:

    Weaponry:

    Class:

    Combat preference:

    Personality:

    Religion:

    Positive traits:

    Negative traits:

    Likes:

    Dislikes:

    Fears:

    History:

    Dialogue:



    Cast
    Aethalia as Syloria Melorae

    @Thesius as Murtagh Bordar

    @TheArgonianDrell as Daxos Xiavir

    @TheShadedOne as Varisha

    @Morbidbread as Raeval Alarys/ Kiln

    @Signus as Andros Haorsson

    @Drahkma as Therian Corvae

    @Rell as Jamiel Acosta

    @Madrar as Arameth Imraskir
     
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    Aethalia

    Well-Known Member
    Name: Syloria Melorae

    Age: 72 (appears in her early twenties)

    Sex: Female

    Race: Altmer

    Sexuality: Heterosexual

    Relationship/Marital status: Single

    Laterality: Right dominant

    Afflictions: None

    Appearance: Tall, like most Altmer, Syloria is unnaturally pale, to the point that some could be forgiven for assuming she was a vampire. The divergence from her kinsfolk continues with her eyes, which are a rich sapphire in colouration. Her hair is a pale blonde, and almost mistaken for white, as it is so pale. It is often gathered into a single tail with a leather strip, and falls to just above her shoulder blades. She is clearly fit, though not so much as to be bloated with muscled. In fact, she seems almost unusually frail to those who have not seen her in action or out of armour. She has high, thin cheekbones, and an equally thin nose. A scar mars the smooth flesh of her right cheek, seemingly made by the claws of some creature.

    Armour: Wears a unique set of elven plate and scale armours. Her shoulders, torso and forearms are covered in light elven plate armour. Below the waist, she wears an armoured leather skirt, covered in tiny diamond shaped scales, that provide good protection against slashing attacks and enable quick movement. Her boots are a pair of well worn leather, sturdy, but not overly heavy.

    Weaponry: A mace, shaped in the form of the more common steel maces, but forged with moonstone. It also contains a powerful anti-undead enchantment, that burns and weakens those creatures.

    Class: Cleric

    Combat preference: Lacking in any real ranged options, Syloria can be found on the front line of any battle, her powerful mace in one hand, smiting the undead, or any fool unlucky enough to stand against her, and healing magics that she uses to keep her allies in the fight.

    Personality: While she has little sympathy for the undead, she is not as uncompromising as paladins or even other clerics. She is unfailingly kind to those she meets, and strives to see the best in people. However, she can often be stubborn and hard headed, preferring to do things her own way, even if others have alternate, sometimes better solutions.

    Religion: Eight Divines, but is a cleric of Auriel.

    Positive traits:
    Kind, Compassionate, Decisive

    Negative traits: A little naive, Stubborn, Biased (in some circumstances).

    Likes: Auriel, the outdoors, Forests, and watching the sunrise.

    Dislikes: Undead, being stuck inside on good days, racists.

    Fears: Losing her faith/losing her divine powers.

    History: Unlike many elves, Syloria was born in Cyrodiil and raised by parents who were extremely devoted to the worship of Auriel. As a young woman, she was encouraged to pursue the healing arts and learning of various undead and their weaknesses, rather than focusing on swordsmanship or spellcraft. She would often travel to smaller villages in Cyrodiil, offering healing magics to those who could not afford potions or poultices from alchemists.

    She made something of a name for herself by purging caves and crypts of skeletons, zombies and necromancers, always without accepting payment. However, she longed to explore, as her duties often kept her restricted to localised areas. Several years after coming into the height of her clerical powers, she spent some time in High Rock, but was dissatisfied by the squabbling of petty breton nobles. She was disgusted by their casual ignorance of the troubles of the peasantry while they pursued their own goals.

    She heard of the troubles in Skyrim shortly after the end of the Dragon Crisis, and began to make her way to the city of Markarth. Despite being waylaid twice by forsworn raiders, she arrived in Markarth in time to hear of Ulfric Stormcloaks assassination. During the swift, brutal war that followed as the imperial legion moved back into Skyrim, she offered her services as a healer to both sides, but was often mistrusted by the nords, as they associated her with the agents of the Thalmor. With the fall of Ulfrics forces, peace returned to Skyrim and Sylaris retired to Solitude, planning for a brief rest before returning home to Cyrodiil.

    Dialogue: Purple-ish
     
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    Thesius

    The Imperial Paladin
    Awesome. Will have my character up in a few hours.
     

    Signus

    Well-Known Member
    Wow! Excited to be invited to this. Will for sure get a character up sometime today!
     

    Thesius

    The Imperial Paladin
    Name: Murtagh Bordar

    Age: 35

    Sex: Male

    Race: Orc

    Sexuality: Straight

    Relationship/Marital status: Single

    Laterality: Right hand dominant

    Afflictions: Alcoholism

    Appearance: As most orcs are, Murtagh is a towering(6'3"), broadchested man, rippling with enough muscle to be intimidating without armour. He has a strong jaw with short tusks and a heavy brow. His deep blue eyes often appear brooding and foul tempered, something that is not entirely true. His hair is a dark brown, but he keeps his face clean shaven and the hair atop his head short enough to adhere to a soldiers level of comfort. He's collected several scars on his arms and torso, most of them clearly from blades or arrows.

    Armour: Like most of his kin, Murtagh wears heavy armour. The cuirrass, gauntlets, and greaves are forged of orcish steel, giving it a grey-green tint. Chainmail covers the gaps between his upper arms and forearms, and leather protects his thighs. Though he once owned a helmet, he no longer owns one and has not seen fit to replace it.

    Weaponry: He wields a well crafted steel hammer, short enough to use with one hand, and sturdy enough to endure the rigours of combat. The haft is long enough to be wielded in two hands, should he desire, but not quite as long as a traditional warhammer. For defence, he carries a thick, wooden shield, with padded leather on the inside, and rimmed with iron.

    Class: Warrior (Sword and shield)

    Combat preference: As a well armoured and well equipped warrior, Murtagh is best suited in the thick of combat, or holding some chokepoint, narrow enough for a single man to defend. His stamina and stature ensure that only the most determined foe will get past him, and his skill with his hammer and shield are surpassed by few to none.

    Personality: Despite his appearance, Murtagh is a kind and compassionate individual. Even if he is a bit rough around the edges, especially when in search of something to drink. Unfortunately, his experiences during the war mean he tends to avoid large groups, fearing that he may react poorly with too much drink in him. Also, if thrust into a leadership position, he tends to hesitate in making decisions and second guess himself. Something that could potentially get himself and his allies killed.

    Religion: The Divines, but very, very loosely.

    Positive traits: Kind, Brave, Determined.

    Negative traits: Hesitant, Self-doubting, Alcoholic

    Likes: A good bottle of booze, peace and quiet, the open road.

    Dislikes: Self reflection, Stormcloaks, being in charge, and being sober too long.

    Fears: Leadership, failing his comrades.

    History: Born and raised in Skyrim, at Narzulbur a stronghold of his kin, Murtagh quickly proved himself to be a strong fighter, who embraced any and all challenges with open arms. He was often chosen by the tribe chief to lead sorties against bandits or dangerous monsters that threatened the stronghold. On the rare occassion, he acted as an ambassador to the other peoples of Skyrim, giving him exposure to other races that many orcs lacked.

    However, the code of the stronghold meant that he would eventually have to challenge the current chief, if he ever wished to wed, and have children of his own. He admired his chieftan so greatly that the thought of cutting him down in battle, however honourable, was unthinkable. He gathered his trusty hammer and shield, and departed to wander Skyrim, promising to return should the stronghold ever need him.

    As the civil war heated up, Murtagh found work as a mercenary, and quickly gathered a group of like-minded men and orcs to him. Despite the common sentiment about mercenaries, Murtagh and his band were good hearted folk. Often times they would stop in their path to help refugees through a particularly bandit ridden road, or assist farmers in repairing their properties after the armies had passed through.

    But their allegiance was promised to the empire, and when the imperials were defeated, Murtagh and his men went their seperate ways, many abandoning Skyrim altogether, hoping to evade retribution at the hands of the Stormcloaks. For himself, Murtagh returned home, weathering the chaotic events that lead up to Ulfrics' death and the aftermath in Narzulbur. That is, until a courier approaches the gates with an urgent summons.

    Dialogue: Gold
     

    TheShadedOne

    The Angry One
    No smut? No smut!? You disappoint me. Also, I should have a card up after work.
     

    Morbidbread

    Fight for the lost
    Name: Raeval Alarys

    Age: 93, appears to be in early/mid thirties due to elven aging

    Sex: male

    Race: Dunmer

    Sexuality: Heterosexual

    Relationship/Marital status: Single

    Laterality: Equally capable with both hands, due to the weapon he wields. However, when wielding magics, he prefers to use his left hand.

    Afflictions: Shares his body with some sort of eldritch deity, he was dubbed 'Kiln'

    Appearance: Raevals' features are usually hidden under his bonemold helmet, but on the rare times his face is seen, it could be described as 'severe'. High cheekbones, and a thin nose and lips. His eyes are a unique amber colouration, and his hair is short and black. He stands at not quite two metres tall (5'10"), and his rigorous training regime has made him into a lean, muscled warrior. His body from the neck down is covered in tiny scars, all less than an inch in length.

    Armour: He wears a set of customised bonemold armour common to the guardsmen of Raven Rock on Solstheim. His own armour is modified to be much more form fitting and less bulky. The helmet lacks the odd 'horn' at the rear of the helm. Large pauldrons protect him from blows directed at his neck and offer some very limited protection from arrows and bolts.

    Weaponry: An elven greatsword that he can, at times surround in a deep blue, almost black flame. However, he will only do that in times of great need as it costs him greatly.

    Class: Warlock

    Combat preference: Despite being a warlock, Raeval is best suited in the center of combat, protected by his heavy bonemold armour, and cutting through the enemy with his greatsword. With the exception of his pauldrons, he is very vulnerable to ranged attacks, especially magic.

    Personality: Generally a calm and collected individual, Raevel is not one to seek out companionship. While he was always quiet, his experiences leading to him being 'possessed' by Kiln have made him a much harder person. He is still compassionate, and doesn't seek to cause people trouble if they don't bother him. That said, he will fight to his last breath to defend those he cares about, and there is very little he won't do to see those he trusts kept safe.

    Religion:None

    Positive traits: Compassionate, Loyal,Stoic

    Negative traits: Pessimistic,Anti-social,

    Likes: Solitude, meditation and reading

    Dislikes: Crowds, Daedra and the divines.

    Fears: Losing what little control he has over the entity that shares his body.

    History: Born on the island of Solstheim, Raeval was not always as magically inclined as he is now. Nor were his eyes the amber that they are now. He lived a simple if fulfilling life as a captain of the guard at the city of Raven Rock. His tiny magical ability occasionally came in handy, but was usually ignored. Most of his days were filled with questioning outsiders, patrolling the streets and guarding the gates and port of the city.

    While on patrol outside the city, not yet out of bowshot from the city, he and his men were ambushed by a horde of ash spawn. A group greater than even the experienced captain had encountered in all his years. His men fought valiantly, but were ultimately cut down. Bloody and beaten, Raeval was dragged before a powerful necromancer. One who had learned the secret to controlling the strange undead of Solstheim.

    Rather than just killing and raising the captain as another mindless minion, the necromancer announced that he had other plans for the guardsman. There was an entity that dwelt in the soil of the island, since the ash from the Red Mountain had fallen there. It longed to be set free, but for that, the creature needed a host. He planned to sacrifice Raeval and use his possessed husk to wreak havoc on the poepl of the island who had 'wronged' him.

    Unknown to the necromancer, the entity was much more sentient than he assumed. And it had no interest in serving another. Instead, it reached out to the captain, assuring it could get them their freedom, if he shared his body and gave the creature a taste of freedom. While reluctant to make such a sacrifice, he was left with little choice, and a deal was struck. His arcane powers were heightened enourmously and he easily blasted his captor apart with blue-black flames.

    However, he was permenantly marked by the deal. His eyes changed from the red of most dunmer to a glowing amber. And he learned that the entity, which called itself Kiln, was slowly cutting his body apart every time he drew on the magic, leaving a tiny scar. Years passed,and the dunmer found himself in Skyrim. There he hears of the strange trouble plaguing the lands, and is reminded of his oath as a guard captain. He makes for the Four Shields tavern in the town of Dragonsbridge.

    Dialogue: This, for Raeval. This, for Kiln.
     

    TheShadedOne

    The Angry One
    Name: Varisha

    Age:
    26

    Sex: Female

    Race: Khajiit

    Sexuality: Bisexual

    Relationship/Marital status: Single

    Laterality: Right handed

    Afflictions: None

    Appearance: Varisha is not particularly tall or curvy, but she is clearly feminine, with a slim build. The upper portion of her face is a deep grey, almost black, while the lower part, especially near her neck and jaw, pales to an ashy grey/ off white. Black stripes, barely visible at the top of her face, but noticable near her jaws and neck, curl from the back of her head, around to just under her lower lip, and stop just short of touching at her throat. She golden yellow eyes, and lacks scars or tattoos of any kind.

    Armour: Mainly light leather that will allow her to move without being seen or heard by her targets. She does have slightly thicker leather at her thighs, chest, and shoulders. Over this she wears a cloth and leather long coat with a high collar.A hood can be pulled up to provide protection against the elements and prying eyes.Wears a crimson scarf that covers her lower jaw and nose.

    Weaponry: A Crescent shaped sword, with the sharpened part on the inner side of the crescent. A long steel dagger, and six throwing daggers that she keeps concealed under her coat

    Class: Nightblade

    Combat preference: Varisha fits in at the edges of a fight, picking off the stragglers, archers and mages. However she is agile enough to keep up with one or two opponents in the thick of a fight, and she won't shy away from a battle if it comes to it. She prefers to keep the daggers a surprise, and will usually fight with her crescent blade, but can draw her long dagger and fight with it in her offhand if things get really desperate.

    Personality: Varisha is a suspicious, caustic individual who will do whatever it takes to make sure she comes out on top. That being said, she'll look out for those who earn her respect, even if she's not as open as most would be.

    Religion: The divines, very loosely.

    Positive traits: Determined, creative.

    Negative traits: Arrogant, vicious

    Likes: Gold, mocking others.

    Dislikes: Typical 'good' guys, paladins, nosy people.

    Fears: Her past being revealed.

    History: I'll be keeping this to myself, and feeding you guys bits and pieces as we go.

    Dialogue: My usual.
     
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    Rafen

    Well-Known Member
    Hey, I know this is a closed thread and all, but I am available if ypu should need another writer.
     

    TheShadedOne

    The Angry One
    Just a heads up, I'll probably add a little more to Varisha. Was busier than I planned last night, and a huge storm cut our power for most of the afternoon.
     

    Aethalia

    Well-Known Member
    I'm not going to say no, @Rafen but don't post a cc until the core groupvhave all posted theirs, so I can see what we're working with.
     

    Madrar

    The Shadow in the Dark.
    So, here's an idea. What if instead of just having the nine of us, we open it up to more people, sort of like a 'secondary group?' That's what I did with Ascension, and while it lead to a lot of characters, it still works.
     

    Drahkma

    Dashing Imperial Officer.
    I like the idea of having a sort of 'second group'. It works for Ascension, and worked for Demons in the Dark for a little while. Even if we didn't call it that. Busy tonight, but I can probably have something up for tomorrow.
     

    Aethalia

    Well-Known Member
    Alright, that's what we'll do. A larger group can't hurt so long as everyone commits. And I hate leaving people out.
     

    Drahkma

    Dashing Imperial Officer.
    Name: Therian Corvae

    Age:
    32

    Sex: Male

    Race: Imperial

    Sexuality: Heterosexual

    Relationship/Marital status: Married

    Laterality: Right handed

    Afflictions: None

    Appearance: A tall, ruggedly handsome imperial man, Therian is an inch shy of two metres, and is well muscled but not heavily built. His hazel coloured hair is shaved short on both his head and his face, for comfort while wearing a helmet. His bronze skin is an indicator that he spent much time out in the sun, and the scars on his body indicate as much time spent in battle. His eyes are a grey-blue, commonly likened to the sea, when seen from a distance.

    Armour: Therians' armour is unique among the empire, something he takes great pride in. The breastplate is steel, as are the gauntlets, greaves and helmet. The helmet itself features a Y visor, and a metallic crest, similiar to the legate helms of the imperial legion. The diamond and dragon symbol of the empire is visible on either side of the helm. His shoulders are also protect by overlapping steel pauldrons. Underneath, he wears chainmail, and underneath that, a red tunic. He wears a leather 'skirt' of sorts to protect the back of his legs during combat. He also carries a kite shield, with a black bird, either a crow or a raven, painted in the center.

    Weaponry: A steel longsword, that while not much to look at, is one of Therians' most prized possessions. The hilt is long enough that it may be wielded in both hands, and the pommel is diamond shaped.

    Class: Knight

    Combat preference: As a knight with fairly heavy armour, Therian excels in close combat. He prefers to use his sword and shield together, but is just as comfortable with a two handed fighting style.

    Personality: Not the most excitable or talkative individual, Therian is still a kind soul. He won't turn away from someone in need, and his strict moral code prevent him from engaging in actions he sees as underhanded or dishonourable.

    Religion: Divines.

    Positive traits: Kind, Brave, Honourable

    Negative traits: Stubborn, dismissive, brash.

    Likes: Sparring, helping people, honourable and law abiding folks.

    Dislikes: Corruption, cowards, dishnourable actions and people.

    Fears: Losing his wife and child. Failing his oath.

    History: Therian was born in the coastal city of Anvil. His family were not exactly poor, but neither were they rich. His father owned a small fishing vessel, and his mother was a seamstress. As a boy, he helped his father on the boat, but he was never really at ease on the open water. Nor was he particularly interested in helping to sell his fathers' haul. It was during one of these trips to the market that Therian met a knight of the empire.

    The man known as Cassius, quickly took a liking to the young boy, who was completely in awe of the knight. Cassius offered the young Therian a place as his squire in his estate just outside the city. While his parents' were none too thrilled, the knight also offered a good amount of gold to pay for their sons' services.

    As a squire, Therian quickly learned the ins and outs of serving the knight, including cleaning armour, sharpening swords, and caring for the horses. He was also taught about court intrigue and dealing with the counts and countesses of the empire. Cassius took Therian with him whenever the imperial legion called on them for aid, but frequently cautioned him to avoid the civil war to the north. He taught the younger man to be compassionate as well as brave. To help others when he could, and always defend those who could not defend themselves.

    All of this Therian took to heart, and soon he was known a valorous knight in his own right, saving maidens from bandits or cutting down undead abominations. He married one such woman that he rescued from the clutches of a coven of necromancers, and they settled for a time in Cheydinhal and started a family. However, the peaceful life was not for Therian, and he continued to ride out, championing for the people. It is during one of his stays in the city of Cheydinhal that he is approached by a courier with an urgent message to ride to Dragonsbridge, in Skyrim.

    Dialogue colour: Pale blue
     
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    TheArgonianDrell

    Well-Known Member
    Hmm. I think I can whip up a character.

    Name: Daxos Xiavir

    Age: 28

    Sex: Male

    Race: Argonian

    Sexuality: Heterosexual

    Relationship/Marital status: Single

    Laterality: Ambidextrous

    Afflictions: None

    Appearance: A lean and fit specimen, Daxos is clearly in good physical condition. His scales are a uniform black, with a glossy sheen. Deep blue lines of dyed scale run from his lower jaw, down to the base of his neck. He has a head of short bone spikes that curve towards the back of his head, with two longer horns on either side, also curving back. He has predatory yellow eyes that have often been described as 'unnerving'.

    Armour: Daxos wears a mixed set of steel and leather armour, enabling quick movement, flexibility, along with protection of steel. Steel covers his shoulders, thighs and forearms, with the rest of his armour made of light, flexible leather.

    Weaponry: A pair of scimitars, and several daggers sheathed in various places on his person.

    Class: While Daxos has spent more than a few of his years as an assassin, he is more suited as a light weight fighter. He focuses his skills more on his blade work rather than skulking around and cutting throats.

    Combat preference: Dargos needs to be fast moving. His armour is great at deflecting or absorbing slashing attacks, but he's not suited to be swarmed by a horde of enemies. Especially ones carrying big weapons. He'll typically be scouting ahead of the party, and laying in wait for the enemy. He can open a fight just fine, with his skilled, two sword style, but he'll seek to disengage as soon as possible.

    Personality: Daxos is a stoic, quiet person, but he'll often join in with a sarcastic quip if he sees an opportunity. He is not blindly loyal to any one cause, and frowns on people who are. He realizes that sometimes people need to do things they don't necessarily agree with in order to succeed. While he may not always agree with his comrades, he'll never leave them behind.

    Religion: Divines/ The Hist.

    Positive traits: Cunning, Adaptable, Quick thinking.

    Negative traits: Sarcastic, a little arrogant.

    Likes: Silence, swimming, staring at the night sky.

    Dislikes: Extreme heat, Chaos that doesn't serve a purpose, Racism

    Fears: Being forced into a situation that'll bring back his old ways.

    History: Born in Black Marsh, Daxos quickly began to wish for more than an existance in the swamps of his homeland. He made for the heartland of the empire,Cyrodiil, where he took on work as a mercenary.Throughout the years, he became known as a skilled assassin and fighter. He often served as the silent blade of imperial nobles, legates,and the occasional merchant. He became a thorn in the side of everyone from bandit leaders to Stormcloak commanders.

    However, as the years went on, Daxos began to regret his actions. Many of the folk he killed had turned to banditry out of sheer desperation, and many others had simply been unfortunate rivals of those who hired him. He began to fight for those who needed his help, rather than those who wanted a problem solved or enemy silenced. Soon after this decision, word of trouble in the province of Skyrim reaches him, and he goes to offer what help he may.

    Dialogue: This
     

    Signus

    Well-Known Member
    Name: Andros Haorsson

    Age:
    38

    Sex: Male

    Race: Nord

    Sexuality: Heterosexual

    Relationship/Marital status: Widower

    Laterality: Uses both hands for his axe.

    Afflictions: Vampirism

    Appearance: Haorsson stands at just under six feet (5'10"), and weighs in at nearly 200 lbs. He is extremely fit, his job as a bounty hunter, and his weapon of choice having built up impressive musculature. He has dark, steel grey eyes, and his hair and beard are cut short and a black as night. His entire body is covered in scars, but the ones he works to hide are the two circular marks on his throat.

    Armour: He wears a mix of scale and leather armour, steel capped boots, and a helmet that covers the upper half of his face. The lower half of his face, including his neck, is concealed by a cloth mask. It is thin enough for him to be heard without lowering the mask.

    Weaponry: Wields a two handed, bearded battle axe, with a leather wrapped haft to offer a better grip.

    Class: Bounty Hunter/Warrior

    Combat preference: Andros performs best when in the thick of combat. His bearded axe, wielded by capable hands, is capable of chopping through light armour, and the flesh beneath, with absurd ease. Using a long weapon like an axe, of course means he needs plenty of room to swing.Should he get trapped in narrow confines or somehow lose his weapon, Andros switches over to his long steel dagger. He lacks any magical skills, and isn't much of an archer. In extreme circumstances, he can throw his dagger, but there's no guarantee he'll cause any damage.


    Personality: Andros is a cold, focused individual. He makes little to no attempt at communication, besides the occasional curt word or grunt. He was not always like this, but the traumatic events of his past have scarred him irreparably. He prefers to work alone, but he will do his best to keep his companions alive, should he work with others. As a bounty hunter, he has an interest in seeing the law upheld. However, his main concern is taking down his target. If this means the others of his group must suffer, so be it.


    Religion: Renounced the gods years ago.

    Positive traits: Focused, relentless, goal oriented

    Negative traits: Pessimistic, Cold, Ruthless

    Likes: Gold, Upholding the law.

    Dislikes: Vampires, the gods, and himself.

    Fears: Losing control of his thirst.

    History:
    Several years ago, Andros Haorsson was a simple man, living in the Rift with his wife and two children. He worked as a bounty hunter for the jarl of Riften, bringing criminals of the hold to justice. Though he was by no means a rich man, the nord and his family were comfortable, and by no means starving.

    However, Andros made the mistake of taking a bounty on a high ranking fence, operating out of redwater den. As was the usual, he brought the man back to Riften, turning him over to the city guard. What he didn't know, was that the fence was a thrall for a powerful vampire, who'd been using him to finance his own operations in the Rift. Several nights later, the vampires attacked. Andros' family lived in a small cabin outside of the city. The attack was fast and brutal. Andros, desperate to save his family, fought the master vampire. It was a short and one sided affair.

    The vampire, imbued with unnatural strength, speed, and centuries of experience, brought Andros to the brink of death. With his family dead, the broken nord waited for death. But something so much worse awaited him. To his horror, he awoke the next morning, flesh burning in the sunlight. Through enormous strength of will, he forced himself to seek shelter, determined to bring the murderers to justice. Three words keep him going. They.Will.Pay.


    Dialogue: Red
     

    Aethalia

    Well-Known Member
    So I'd like to get this going before September, as that's when I get back to work. Once everyone in our 'core' group has posted a character I'll get the IC up.
     

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