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Info Available Writers and Open Stories

Discussion in 'Skyrim Roleplaying' started by Hlíf 'Ulfr, Feb 26, 2018.

  1. Hlíf 'Ulfr

    Hlíf 'Ulfr Nothing but a lyre

    Joined:
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    Welcome Writer and Creators,


    PLEASE POST HERE IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN ROLEPLAYING ON THIS SITE OR CREATING A STORY
    (and here is why... )


    The general idea is that in posting here you will not only be able to see who is available and who is looking but you will also get notified when there is availability. This will be a great boon for those that come during the lulls in the creation of new RPs who want to join the community but need an opportunity. Simply post and wait for a notification. (Oh, and keep your post updated.) This is why it is so important for those recruiting for RPs to post here and not only those who are looking for RP opportunities. This also means that the criteria for the RP and the needs and desires of the writer match up and are obvious, saving both parties time.


    Let me explain how this all works.

    “How it works:”

    • Fill out the appropriate template to the best of your abilities, sticking to the guidelines will ensure the most efficient and user-friendly experience.
    • Post your information. If you are looking for a group or private RP this will allow other writers to find you. As someone looking for writers, it is also important to post here as potential writers (who have posted or follow the thread) will actually get notifications which is not the case when simply posting an OOC thread. Your RP will get more traffic and will notify those who do not check daily that you are looking. This will help writers who are searching during RP “dry spells.”
    • Check the thread to see if there are any other writers searching for the same thing or who fit your criteria. You may be able to organize private RPs or find other writers to collaborate with even if there are no open slots.
    • PM (private message) writers when you are interested! Once more this will send a notification to the individual. Give them time as some check their messages less or more frequently than others. This is relevant for both those looking for RP and Writers. Let others know you are interested in working with them on specific projects or in new collaborations.
    • Keep your “UPDATED” section up to date when you are on the forums. It will show that you are active and plan on remaining active.
    • Make sure you follow the thread and check back in! Following the thread will ensure that you get notified, which is one of the major points of this thread. Taptalk is useful in this situation as notifications will be sent directly to your phone and will mean less maintenance and time spent manually tracking or checking for notifications. If you keep up to date with your email consider getting email notifications.
    • Mark your “STATUS” section as “CLOSED” if you are no longer interested in writing or “FULL”/ “CLOSED” if your RP has no available spots.


    Looking for RP Template:


    Status:


    Looking For:

    Desired Posting Frequency/ Availability:

    Post Length:

    Last Updated:

    Writing Sample:

    Past RPs:

    Additional Info:​



    Looking For Writers Template:


    Status:


    Looking For:

    RP Name:

    OOC Link:

    Desired Post Length:

    Desired Posting Frequency/ Availability:

    Last Updated:

    RP Description:

    Past RPs:

    Additional Info:​



    *Samples/ Examples below*

     
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  2. Hlíf 'Ulfr

    Hlíf 'Ulfr Nothing but a lyre

    Joined:
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    Reputation:
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    *SAMPLE*

    Status: OPEN


    Looking For: Group roleplay

    Desired Posting Frequency/ Availability: Weekly or biweekly

    Post Length: Longer Posts (Approx. 1000+ words)

    Last Updated: 2/22/2018

    Writing Sample:

    Somewhere in the shadows, lurking, waiting for them was a monster. Its massive jaws hidden behind a snarling mask and billowing clouds of vapor, it had stalked them for days now always appearing at night. Neither had seen her but the screams of their companions were tell tale enough. As they had been picked off one by one the fear grew, mounted and had warped them and her into something beyond reality. They lived in a constant state of terror. It had cleansed them of their logic as they fled through the plains, like animals from their predation and she revealed in it. They were walking into a trap, and they only lived now for her enjoyment of the chase. They had no chance and it was getting cold, so cold...

    It was a black night, as well as frigid and yet the rain still fell. The moons had been blotted out by the black clouds that had swept across the land earlier this day and had stayed since. Not even the stars survived being cloaked by their presence and certainly not the monster herself. As they opened up, finally relinquishing their heavy burden, it only served to disorient them further. Every drop melded with the next to create a crescendo that blotted out the senses, the very winds violently screaming as they ripped at everything within their reach. It was a horrendous storm, both physically and in the minds of prey.

    Then suddenly the lady of the night, her face full of soft light, pushed through her swaddles revealing the true nature of the unnatural wretch, her pelt twinkling and encased in ice. The massive sides of the beast heaved in response to the even breathing, her muscles relaxed yet evident under the slate grey hide. It was clearly and by all accounts a werewolf that had stalked the group, cutting their numbers at such a calculated rate. She was a nightmare dredged from some unknown plain of existence and yet there was control, intelligence in those glowing eyes. Perhaps this is what made her so terrifying, she was no simple predator hunting for sustenance and instinct. She had chosen them.

    Tonight, though, tonight it would all end. It would end with jaws, claws and the tearing of flesh. The cracking of bones and the warm iron-like taste of blood. Her nose glistened as it released another breath, once more obscuring her face as it moved away from the open lands and towards the sky. From between the fangs, glistening in the light of the moon, slipped a glorious, bone-chilling howl. Then, just as it fell across the land, rolling over the hills to pool down in the low valleys the moon slipped away once more and all was dark. The men pushed themselves harder than they had ever before but it would not be enough. The hunt was upon them.

    Once unmoving, hidden within a cluster of boulders, the she wolf leapt to the top of the outcropping. Her nostrils flared aggressively to the rhythm of her quick yet deep breaths, making the best out of the scents that the night had to offer. Despite the abusive weather she was easily able to ascertain the direction in which they had fled and catapulting herself forwards flew over the ruins of their wagon. Though the flight was graceful it could not hope to match the landing for it was perfect in every sense and gave no resistance, perfectly flowing into the wolf's powerful gait.

    Her muscles sang out with joy as movement was granted to them, putting them once more to good use. This feeling, paired with the beating of her own heart and unwavering breathing was all that filled the beasts consciousness, that was until she heard his screaming. Veering left she zeroed in on the lifeforce of the man, he had slipped in the rain and as he scrambled up both knew in their hearts though hope attempted a last surge that this would bring about his death.

    She devoured the ground beneath her with incredible speed, now smelling his sweat and his fear, nearly tasting it in the air. The golden eyes now were granted view, a rumble escaping her as she closed in, her prey replying with a call to the gods. A shiver went up her body strong enough to fuel her bloodlust as she and he both realized that no god would not be coming to end his torment tonight. Death alone would be his savior.

    More quickly now she ran, his shape becoming more and more defined until her body pulled along next to his. Her eyes focused on his face, another shiver ran up her body as he realized he could look death in the face. His face was mangled by the twisted look of terror, his screams lost to her as she narrowed the gap. Time seemed to slow for her as her pearlesque teeth were revealed as her jaws opened, and moved to clamp down on the torso of the man. She had waited long enough and as her maw clamped down on the man, her teeth penetrating her skin she finally tasted the fruit of her patience. Halting her fast pace she met the grounds resistance, the man shaken aggressively and blood flying through the air. She wanted to savor this, and that she did as she slowly put more pressure on the bones, hearing them crunch and crackle. His death screams were shrill at first though soon became drowned by the blood bubbling from his mouth. Though a new scream replaced his, mourning his friends demise, the foreshadowing of his own.

    The follies of a madman, he had only served to give away his location. Dropping the sputtering man to the mud and blood stained grass she prowled forwards, a devious idea having struck her. A chase similar to that having just transpired ensued though this one was much more short lived. As she closed in the man blubbered, his pace faltering, she jumped to sink her fangs into his legs. The two rolled together, the beast controlling their direction though as they slowed the two unexpectedly parted. The she-wolf played with him, walking in and out of his line of sight to finally appear behind him, nudging him in the back. It took a minute and a rather painful correction for the man to realize what the wolf wanted and to comply. She wanted him to move, and as he did she herded him.

    He tried to keep an even pace, she was sure that he used every bit of energy left in his body but as the blood steadily flowed from his leg he could not help but to fall and slow, but she didn’t care. He had earned his pain as far as she was concerned and as his pace slowed he was met with a merciless grumbling and a sharp and painful reminder of his duty to keep moving forward. They were approaching the broken body of the last member of his band, her nose, and his hysterics told her so much and as they came upon it he was pushed to his knees.

    He continued to bleat, tears mixing with the rain and his voice stolen by that same wind that lashed his hair across his face as she circled him. Her frame stalked smoothly, finally settling with her long muzzle facing his own stricken visage. In a final show of dominance, she opened her jaws to let loose a mighty roar, then ending his pathetic life with a single crunch and shake. The beast in her left little time for logical rejoicing as it made quick work of the bodies.

    When the bloody work was done she felt the change, its progression beginning to seep into her veins. Letting out on final howl she gave in to it, the pain and the pleasure of returning to her own form. Kneeling now with her face to the heavens she smiled. The rain pricked her bare, exposed skin as it landed washing away the blood and mud from her form, though her Nordic blood fought off the cold. She welcomed each familiar sensation, her long hair plastered to her face falling down her back, the fingers that pushed back each lock. Most of all she welcomed the peace that came with a duty fulfilled.

    She was reveling in this feeling when a bright streak of light crashed down in the distance, lighting up the gruesome scene and her figure for a brief space of time. It was the voice that followed however that made her thank each and every devine for the change, her sensitive wolfish ears would have suffered tenfold if not as a voice boomed:


    -End this, my Champion.-

    Knocked back into the grass she fought against the strength of the blast. Recovering with a newborn curiosity blooming in her chest.


    Past RPs:

    http://skyrimforums.org/sf/threads/18-hands-of-the-sorrowful-knight-redux.86401/

    http://skyrimforums.org/sf/threads/conquer-with-fire-ii.63502/


    Additional Info: Long time forum member looking for something low pressure preferably with a small group. Must be Skyrim based and I would like to be able to create my own character and not be assigned one, though I am open to working them around specific builds and tailoring the character to the RP/ group dynamics. Sample characters can be found in my signature and blog. Contact me via PM and I will get back to you ASAP. Cheers.



    *SAMPLE*
     
    • Informative Informative x 1
  3. Hlíf 'Ulfr

    Hlíf 'Ulfr Nothing but a lyre

    Joined:
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    *SAMPLE*


    Status: ALL POSITIONS FILLED


    Looking For: 4 Writers

    RP Name: The Markarth Murders

    OOC Link: http://skyrimforums.org/sf/threads/the-markarth-murders-not-recruiting-full-cast.137342/

    Desired Post Length: Longer Posts (700-1000+ words)

    Desired Posting Frequency/ Availability: Weekly to biweekly posting prefered

    Last Updated: 2/22/2018

    RP Description:

    "There's no end of trouble in the City of Stone, and that means plenty of ways for you to earn your supper."

    -~~8~~-

    Markarth. Capital of the Reach. A city with a bloody and morbid history. The once great throne of the Reachman, the trophy of Ulfric Stormcloak's most infamous battle, and the seat of Silverblood power. Bodies are dotting the city with terrifying frequency, and it's been concluded that the Forsworn are responsible. The victims, however, are all mere vagrants--the homeless and impoverished. Unusual and unlikely targets for the vicious and relentless guerrilla warriors, and still nobody bats an eye. All except the Jarl Igmund, who's mind stresses over thoughts of Civil War and increasing pressure from Stormcloak sympathizers. With no time to worry about the issues, he's assigned his new court wizard: Raemont Lochaart; whose thoughts and actions seem to be avoiding the mission.

    There are travellers, though few, whose suspicions rise day by day; body by body. Now, the Markarth Guard Captain and royal Housecarl's young squire finds himself neck deep in the investigations. With the help of his lower-class friends and unlikely travelling strangers, the sinister truth begins to unravel before him.

    Who's to blame? Who's this strange new Breton wizard? Will the killings stop when all the homeless are taken care of?

    -~~8~~-

    Welcome friends of the Talos Restoration RP! Here with the help of Hlif, I've crafted a small and intimate story for us all to continue writing together. I and Hlif are going to be using new characters, however, the lot of you who've transferred over please feel free to use your characters from Talos Restoration. All I ask is that you re-post your Character Cards so we all have references to look at! Welcome, and let's get this show on the road!​


    Past RPs:

    http://skyrimforums.org/sf/threads/ic-18-horror-in-the-name-of-aetherius.135151/

    http://skyrimforums.org/sf/threads/deliverance-from-his-vigilance.59481/


    Additional Info: Looking for writers that have the desire to write longer posts and who can commit to remaining active, both newbies and longtime SF members welcome. This RP will have a smaller scale storyline and so characters should be more regular people vs ALMIGHTY HERO GODS. We would also like to emphasize diversity both class and race wise. We reserve the right to refuse characters or writers and will be selective as we have very few slots to fill. Apply via the OOC and/ or feel free to PM me with questions.



    *SAMPLE*
     
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  4. Specter of Death

    Specter of Death Moderator
    Staff Member

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    LOVE THIS!!!!!! CAN NOT WAIT TO USE THE SYSTEM! Totally stickied for everyone to see! Great tool for the community!!!
     
    • Like Like x 2
    • Friendly Friendly x 1
    Latest Given Reputation Points:
    Hlíf 'Ulfr: 17 Points (Thank you for that! Hopefully, it will be easy to find and help our community thrive.) Feb 26, 2018
  5. Matthias+

    Matthias+ Down among the dead men let him lie!

    Joined:
    Mar 27, 2018
    Messages:
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    Status: Open!

    -

    Looking For: Anything, really. Group, duo, etc. It doesn't really matter to me, as long as I get to play a part.
    -
    Desired Posting Frequency/ Availability: Weekly.
    -
    Post Length: Medium to Large(500 to 1000+ words).
    -
    Last Updated: 28/3/18

    Writing Sample

    His eyes itched.

    It always itched; though not his eyes specifically, but any part of him, really; sometimes, all of him itched. The suit he wore was coated with wax on the outside, but the inside, it was fabric, not plush nor coarse, but seemingly a mixture of the two; it was as if it was designed specifically to irritate, or to chafe. He shoved all thoughts of replacement, or displacement of the 'uniform' from his mind, however.

    After all, the only thing more irritating than the chafing was the painful lashing of these northern winds upon what must look like his charred husk; it was both cracked, and it bled. No, displacement only ever made it hurt more. Though, what hurt the most was the gawking. The looks he'd receive from those who had seen him without his suit.

    Before he'd first worn the suit; when the disease had only first spread to his outer being, he had been walking to his then abode showing only few signs of this affliction comparative to the present, and even then; the things the common folk said...

    The women were repulsed at the sight of him, but the men would look, and recoil in disgust upon investigation; the children, the most innocent of them, anyways, would look with apprehension at the sight of him. They would eagerly accept the judgement of their parents, as they were herded away indoors.

    Women, and men both called him "Plaguebearer", "Freak"; these words he could stand.

    But the children...

    The innocent children...

    They called him "Monster".


    During all this thought, he had suddenly realized he had forgotten the itchiness he felt around his eye sockets altogether; it was funny, he thought. Funny that should he torment himself with his own past, that his physical irritability would vanish, funny that the Divines saw fit to end his previous suffering when only new suffering had begun. A wave of melancholy began to wash over Matthias. These Divines, do they even exist? They must, because their shrines grant blessings, do they not? Then why have they seen fit to ignore him, to curse him with such frailty and afflict him with such ills? Why do his prayers for Divine curative go unanswered?

    Maybe he was being punished for some unknown sin committed by his forebears? Possibly, though thoughts of doubt lingered amongst the fogged past pangs of sorrow in his mind; he could never know if his parents were cursed or not, but logic of his current condition dictates in his mind that; were either of his parents cursed of frailty as he, they would not be able to form a child, either of them. They would not be in the physical condition to endure such labor. He was not cursed due to the actions of his forebears, this he now knew.

    He dropped the needle.

    Shoving all thought of anything aside from the task ahead of him, he bent over slowly, and picked up the needle, and thread off of the cold stone floor of the forest shack. It was cold, and after dropping the tool, the only thing keeping the melancholy hate from drifting back into his mind was the sound of the rain cascading from the sky in large droplets, and beating the roof of the shack. Falkreath Hold was not the place for this; it was a wet cold, somehow humid, yet causing you to chatter your teeth had you come unprepared in the night, though it was always cold when it rained. Fog was rolling in, he had to hurry before the patient he had anesthetized would wake.

    He went from wound to wound, disinfecting with ale he'd found in the shack, as it had enough alcohol in it to do the job, it made a satisfactory disinfectant. He poured more ale into the cloth, and continued the laborious task of dabbing all of the wounds until they were fully disinfected. By the end of it, the rag, which had been light of color, and constituted of fibres most soft, was now a deep red, and crusting with early scabbing from the fresh, bloody wounds. Having cleaned all the wounds, he walked away from the table where he had lain his patient, and over to the desk where his alchemy tools were kept. After gathering what few ingredients were left on the desk in the abandoned shack into his belt-pouches, he took a look at his alembic, noticing that the mixture had finally distilled, he pulled a glass vial from his belt and carefully poured the mixture from the alembic into the vial.

    He turned around, and inspected the patient one last time before he would finish up his work. His patient was a man, high of stature; chin coarse with beard hair that, like the hair on his head, was gold as the sun. It was a pattern that his eyes almost matched, as, instead of eyes blue as the sky that cushions the sun, he had eyes that were as they sky, but sickly of pallor, and cold of gaze. This man was clearly a Nord, and though hardy, no Nord as drunk, and tired as this one was when Matthias had found him, could fight a wolf alone and inebriated.

    That appeared the be the origin of his injuries; the man had many lacerations on him, and beyond that number, many more wounds bitten into him than wounds of gash, or cut with claws black as Peryitian bile. He found the man, stumbling, and bleeding near the side of the road some far distance away from the settlement of Falkreath; between Falkreath Hold, and Riften. He had lost a lot of blood, and he had not the energy to drag himself either way. He was unconscious as Matthias struggled to drag him to the shack, which was only yards away.

    Given the opportunity to operate, Matthias decided to start by giving him a mixture of Nirnroot, and Canis Root; distilling the stamina damaging element of both herbs would allow Matthias to keep the Nord unconscious, and free of pain while he treated him. He would then disinfect the wounds with alcohol, which he had not on hand, but had found in the shack. He had meant to go to Falkreath settlement to freshen his stock of medicinal supplies. Now that he had fully disinfected the wounds, Matthias grabbed the needle and thread.

    He moved from wound to wound, stitching the wounds closed where he could do so, the bite wounds, which were unlike the gashes, would need to be bandaged; luckily, Matthias had plenty of bandage on him due to his condition. With every wound stitched, Matthias moved closer to success; with every bite bandaged, he ensured this man would live without consequence for his revelry. That was the reason the man seemed to be out, after all. When Matthias found him, he stunk of Mead, and his clothing was of standard make. He must have been reveling before he was separated from his friends.

    With all the wounds treated, and bandaged, Matthias moved his hand down to his belt, and grasped the vial from before in his hand, uncorking the small sealed container before sitting the Nord up straight with great effort. With his torso supporting the man, and keeping him from falling backwards, Matthias with his gloved hand, grasped the back of the man's head before tilting it up so he would not choke. He then poured the mixture, distilled from Blisterwort, and Blue Mountain Flower for their healing properties into the man's mouth, and then rubbed his throat with his gloved free hand; this triggered the man's reflex to swallow. Hopefully the potion would speed up his recovery.

    Laying the man back down onto the table, Matthias turned around and seemed to glide over to the desk where his tools were; when there, he started to neatly sort them into the medical kit, along with his various needles and other such medical implements. He had lit a fire in the shack's fireplace, so he, and the man would not freeze to death, though, he doubted the Nord would mind the cold; so it was more for Matthias' own comfort at that point.

    It had stopped raining. Matthias, not wanting to carry the man to the bed that was in the shack, decided it would be far better to just take the bed coverings off of the bed itself, and throw it over top of the man. He treated this man with kindness, only because this man was obviously not high-born, nor a thief or a cutthroat. He slowly placed the strap of his medical kit over his head, and then under his left arm. It was time to leave, time to depart to the forested settlement.

    To Falkreath.
    -
    Past RPs: Very few.
    -
    Additional Info: I am not very good with this roleplay business, but I do like to try. I will not ask you to accommodate me, I only ask that you point out any flaws I may make so I can repair what damage I have done. I would also like to exclusively play this 'Matthias' character for the most part.
     
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    • Creative Creative x 1
    Latest Given Reputation Points:
    Alty: 1 Point Mar 31, 2018
    #5 Matthias+, Mar 28, 2018
    Last edited: Apr 1, 2018
  6. Alty

    Alty Caw Caw

    Joined:
    Mar 31, 2018
    Messages:
    39
    Likes Received:
    60
    Reputation:
    27
    Status: Available

    Looking For: Anything | Groups, Private, etc.

    Desired Posting Frequency/ Availability: I aim for everyday, but I can accept weekly.

    Post Length: 3-5 paragraphs (or more, might vary)

    Last Updated: 6/3/2015


    Sample
    A dank atmosphere could be troublesome. A hindrance. Rain added undesired weight to the bird's wings, though this rain was light. It was the surfaces that were so difficult. Due to the climate, every stone of the ruins was sheen, providing no friction and therefore no support. But the assassin's will was undeterred by the challenge in her practice.
    How she practiced was how she performed. She was in mind of her business, and that such duty required her to be adaptable to any condition. She was molded from experience of high views and getting to those high views. She never seemed to get close enough to the sky. Practice was not reciting. Reciting was merely repetitive, and that was a disadvantage in any fight.
    Foolhardiness was a useful trait to her. Her reckless attitude drove her up the slick walls of the abandoned fort. However, she was not entirely mad. There remained a face of calm, aside from the focus of her lowered brows and occasional grunts. She was coordinated, an attribute that could only fuel her arrogance.
    She was like a bird. She had to keep moving to stay in flight.

    Past RPs: Several private, a few groups

    Additional Info:
    I have one Skyrim character
    Note: I have a slow computer (it's an Acer).
     
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    #6 Alty, Mar 31, 2018
    Last edited: Sep 28, 2018
  7. Signus

    Signus Active Member

    Joined:
    Jun 3, 2018
    Messages:
    56
    Likes Received:
    127
    Reputation:
    27
    Status: Available


    Looking For: Group RP

    Desired Posting Frequency/ Availability: Weekly

    Post Length: 2-4 paragraphs, on average.

    Last Updated: 2018/06/03

    Writing Sample: Andros Haorsson made his way through the dark of Riftens' alleys, at an unhurried pace. His quarry had fled this way;he was sure of it. To the naked eye, nothing was obvious in the dead end alley. But Andros could hear the thief's heartbeat. He could smell his fear. "This is your last chance," he called to the cowering thug, "Come peacefully, or I'll bring your head to the jarl. Reward's the same either way." The bounty hunters' hand shifted on the haft of his bearded axe. He could hear the man shifting around behind one of the barrels, weighing his options. Andros knew his target wouldn't come quietly. After what he'd done, nothing awaited him but a brutal execution at the hands of the jarls' headsman.

    As the nord bounty hunter had predicted, there was a rasp of steel on leather as the fugitive drew his blade. With a roar, Orbjad Urusken, would be pickpocket and murderer of three, burst from cover. He was a big man, Andros had to admit. Had the circumstances been different, the bounty hunter would have been reconsidering his decision to corner him. But they were not, and with equal parts eagerness and self-loathing, the hunter set his feet and brought the axe up in a horizontal guard. "Dead it is" he whispered. He received Orbjads' charge, and stopped the human in his tracks.

    The murderer grunted in surprise, and whipped his knife arm around for a stab. With the same lack of effort, Andros smacked the arm aside. Dropping his axe, the bounty hunter slammed his victim into the alley wall, blasting the air from him. "W-what are you?" Orbjad gasped with the last of the air in his lungs. Andros pulled down the mask that obscured the lower half of his face "a monster" he replied, sinking his fangs into the thiefs exposed throat. When the humans' struggles faded to nothing, the bounty hunter let him drop. With a shaking hand he wiped the blood from his lips, loathing washing over him as he felt his red thirst subside. With a sigh, he retrieved his axe. There was still a bounty to collect, after all.

    Past RPs: A few group RPs'.

    Additional Info: Available most days, will be able to post two or three times per week, so long as I don't disrupt the story.
     
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    Latest Given Reputation Points:
    Alty: 1 Point (Might I suggest "A Dark Promise"? We (Matthias and I) have 2 posts so far, and we're the only two members of the group. It basically exists to help with character history. Nice sample by the way :)) Jun 3, 2018
  8. Kabel

    Kabel Member

    Joined:
    Dec 4, 2016
    Messages:
    3
    Likes Received:
    4
    Reputation:
    29
    Status: Available

    Looking For: Group RP

    Desired Posting Frequency/ Availability: Weekly

    Post Length: 2 – 4 paragraphs on average

    Last Updated: 15/07/18

    Writing Sample:

    The deafening sounds of creaking wood and gushing water made him come to. Opening his eyes, he tried to take in the surroundings with blurred vision. As his vision slowly came back to him, a rush of freezing cold engulfed his body, like being wrapped in sheets of ice.

    He started to get a better picture of what was happening… The boat was sinking… and he was still aboard. Bed linen, personal affects, food; it was all afloat being swayed by the will of the water.

    As the boat continued to wail like a dying Horker, a thundering crash came from above. Water was filling the tilted room at an alarming rate. ‘Better get off this boat now.’ The Breton thought to himself critically, as he wiped a slither of blood from his brow.

    He grabbed his backpack which was floating nearby as he started to wade through the icy waters. Although he had a decent resistance to the cold in general, this was starting to become unbearable; like a million tiny daggers slowly stabbing away at his pale ivory skin.

    The sense of urgency ever increased, with every clang, every creak and strain of the vessel. Every crew member he came across, floating. Lifeless. They were good to Juliek on the arduous trip, but time for happier thoughts couldn’t cloud his survival now. He managed to find a clearing in the hold, so in one big breath, dunked himself under water and began to swim with all the strength he could muster and through tired and aching limbs, which felt like they were starting to lose feeling, he broke the surface and crawled his way to the shore; which in a merciful twist of fate, was a short distance away.

    Juliek laid there spitting out the excess water, thankful to be off the boat. It felt like he’d been laying there for hours, but in reality, probably only several minutes. The air was brisk and the sounds of wildlife distant.

    Getting to his feet with clothes drenched and heavy, bones rattling from the blistering cold, he quickly made his way to a rocky outcrop nearby which provided some protection from the elements and after several failed attempts, managed to light an abandoned campfire. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

    The boat made one final groan before being completely swallowed by the Sea of Ghosts forever.

    Stripping down to his bare skin to dry his clothes, as he took in the surroundings. He’d always been told of the vast land and the unforgiving terrain to which one solitary thought entered his mind; ‘Welcome to Skyrim.’

    Past RPs: None

    Additional Info: Looking for something Skyrim-based, ideally.
     
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  9. TommyTequila

    TommyTequila Member

    Joined:
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    Status: Available


    Looking For: Any kind of collaborative writing

    Desired Posting Frequency/ Availability: weekly to bi weekly. (I primarily post Monday-Wednesday)

    Post Length: Medium-Long

    Last Updated: 9/28/18

    Writing Sample:
    The dark chamber was draped in ornate linens, and decorated with gold and silver. Atop a stone table a golden ruby-inlaid goblet stood proudly next to a crystal decanter filled with a sanguine fluid. Behind the table a wine rack adorned the western wall of the room, stocked with an impossibly old and incredibly rare selection. Two heavy wooden doors stood between this chamber and the outside hallway on the north side, and a table with two chairs decorated the east wall. On a raised platform on the south side of the room, lay an extravagant, gold-plated sarcophagus-like coffin. The sound of metal grinding against metal marked the sliding open of the gaudy coffin. A black form floated silently upwards out of the coffin, and continued forward as it righted itself. Grindal Erdenwal, Vampire Scourge of the Reach, floated towards the ground until his bare feet noiselessly touched the ground. Slim shoulders shrugged off the day's slumber and red eyes opened slowly. The night had been coming sooner and sooner as the weather grew colder, meaning the Reach belonged to him for longer each day. He briefly considered having a thrall brought to him for his evening meal, however he had an important agenda tonight and didn't want to delay his getting started. He settled for some vintage he had saved, and started for the decanter on the table. The fort that he and his kin called home for the time being was erected during the second great War by the Nords, and conveniently for its new nocturnal occupants, had a large amount of underground space for storage. During this time of peace the fort was manned only by a skeleton crew, ironic considering they were currently decomposing in shallow Graves near the forts entrance. He poured the blood, still warm and not coagulated thanks to an alchemical addition, into his goblet. Tonight was an important night. Something had been afflicting the denizens of Rorikstead, and tonight he aimed to find out what or who was moving in on his feeding grounds. Reports had been erratic, and the true nature of the darkness that spread within the now-walled city had been kept under wraps. He swirled the blood next to his nostrils, moving with a haughty air of royalty. Virgins blood from the last town they raided. His tongue moved over white fangs to lick his pale lips, but before the goblet reached his mouth, he froze. A bottle was missing from his wine shelf, and not just any bottle. He stared a moment, then smiled. "Shadowbanish Wine," He said to the seemingly empty room. He took a long sip from the goblet before turning to face the intruder. "You have good taste."
    After a girlish laugh broke the silence, his guest finally chose to reveal herself. The raven-haired girl in black sat casually at the table on the other side of the room with her feet crossed on the chair opposite her. On the table was an open bottle of wine and in her hand a goblet that matched his own.
    "That bottle is almost as old as I am. I was saving it." He placed his goblet next to the decanter. "I hear you have a thing for hunting vampires. And since you've made it this far I can assume all my compatriots are dead."
    She answered with a silent nod.
    "Impressive child. But compared to myself they were mere infants. Seeing as how you don't seem to be the type for conversation…."
    He paused a moment, giving her a chance to speak. She shrugged, placed the goblet on the table and rose to her feet.
    "Seeing as you’re the silent type, you might as well do what you came here to do" as he finished he held his arms out at his sides palms up. Almost before he could blink a bow was in her hand and an arrow was on its way. Grindal disappeared and the arrow hit nothing but a cloud of black smoke. The smoke reformed directly in front of his attacker and Grindal was directly in front of her, staring into her dumbfounded eyes. With blinding speed and a visceral sound he shoved a clawed hand up through her abdomen into her ribcage. As he grasped her heart he pulled her hair back so he could look into her terrified eyes. Normally he would gloat over his victims, but this time he decided to return her mocking silence. He tore the heart out through the new hole in her upper abdomen. As its previous owner collapsed, he watched it beat. Once, twice, a quiver, then nothing. He placed the heart on the table next to the empty bottle of wine and used a nearby hand towel to wipe the blood off his hand. A commotion outside drew his attention. A tall Nord in military armor burst through the door with an idiotic look in his face, and reached for his sword. Grindal looked past the man into the corridor behind him. He saw the bodies of half a dozen vampires and almost as many Nordic fighting men in the 15 foot wide hallway. They had come to reclaim their fort, it seems. So be it. He was done with it anyway. In as flash of black smoke he appeared behind the Nord and removed his head for him. Another flash of smoke and another man dropped. A flash of smoke. A spray of blood. The sounds of screams and pleas for mercy filled the hall. He laughed with glee as he avenged his fallen coven. For every fallen vampire he took one of theirs. This continued all the way through the fort until he reached the entryway. Only a few remained. He was in the process of prying the arm off of one soldier and beating another to death with it when something the last soldier said caught his ear.
    "WHY? What are you doing?? I am YOUR…"
    The Lunatic had gone mad with fear. Grindal silenced him mid sentence by ripping his throat out.
    With the visceral sound of flesh tearing, everything around him changed. In front of him, his long time right hand man and only friend stood clutching his throat. His open mouth showed fanged teeth on a face of terror and confusion. Blood sprayed between his fingers and he fell to his knees and collapsed to the ground. In shock, Grindal turned to see all the bodies of his fallen comrades, torn limb from limb by his own hand. He stumbled backward. Her. That girlish laugh echoed in his head. Impossible, she's dead. He turned toward the Exit, but the door was gone, replaced by an altar with an ornate dagger. The laugh grew louder. He was trapped. He had to find her. Follow the laugh. But he couldn't, it was everywhere. Where was she hiding? He stumbled over bodies and blood and heads and arms and torsos and intestines and hearts, all of the flock he had grown for years. The laughing grew louder. He searched the whole fort before finding his way back to the dagger where the Exit should be. She was nowhere. The laughing grew impossibly louder. She's inside. She's in me. Of course, it was all so clear. The laughing grew louder. He grabbed the dagger from the altar. Of course. She didn't think I'd be smart enough but she was wrong. So wrong. She's inside me. He began to cut into his abdomen. The laughing grew louder. He was getting close. Shut up shut up shut up so many organs in the way shut up shut up how deep? The more intestines I pull out the louder she gets I'm getting close shut up shut up just need to dig deeper SHUT UP SHUT UP ALMOST THERE "SHUT UP PLEASE STOP I'M GOING TO GET YOU JUST NEED TO DIG I WILL FIND YOU PLEASE I'M SORRY JUST SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP shut up shut…. shut up….. shut….."

    Anna reached down and removed her dagger from the hands of the vampire, currently kneeling in a pile of his own intestines. His soul had been transferred into a black soul gem that hung with several others along a chain at her waist. She allowed herself a broad grin. Something about a centuries old vampire who'd killed countless innocents begging for mercy brought a warmth to her chest. She took a deep breath and reveled in a feeling of… purpose, no matter how fleeting it would be.

    Past RPs:
    The Great Journey Retaken
    http://skyrimforums.org/sf/threads/the-great-journey-retaken.86202/
    Our Way of Life
    http://skyrimforums.org/sf/threads/our-way-of-life.93291/

    Additional Info: I try to refrain from lengthy posts when unnecessary, but I do write lengthy character introductions usually. I prefer that method of characterization over simply putting everything into a bio. I like to collaborate with other writers in the story to create posts that involve more character interaction and development.
     
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