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OOC Sins of our Elders [[Accepting Applications]]

Discussion in 'Skyrim Roleplaying' started by Andante, Nov 18, 2012.

  1. Melee

    Melee I'm back, bitches

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    I'm not saying your character can't have any combat training at all whatsoever. I'm just saying that some of the parts, like the Sheogorath stuff you mentioned, don't really fit in this story of "normal" people.

    I agree with Flint, just because your guy has training in combat doesn't mean he necessarily has good armor. His best weapon is the knowledge he can pass down. And remember, this takes place quite a few years after the Civil War, so I doubt he would still have all of his equipment.
     
  2. death raider

    death raider Thalmor Ambassador

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    So would you say my character card was ok?
     
  3. CHIM

    CHIM let's get metaphysical

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    I would just like to ask, is my character profile suitable? Lore-accurate and all the rest?
     
  4. Melee

    Melee I'm back, bitches

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    Guys, I think that if your character cards are ok, they'll let you know if you're in. You don't have to keep asking. Just be patient. :)
     
  5. Sid

    Sid The fairly crap Pokémon trainer....

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    Ok, thanks for the advise. Can I keep duskfang/dawnfang and the crossbow (My Main Weapons) and the Diadem of Euphoria? Plus my guy was never in the civil war. Also I said that can he just have trained with the dark seducers and golden saints, and that all but stealing from sheogorath (Such as bodyguard & trying to appease him) could be removed.
     
  6. Melee

    Melee I'm back, bitches

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    You're going to have to ask Uther or Andante, this is their RP. Personally, I think it might still be a bit much, but they might think differently. I would wait for them to answer.
     
  7. .ol0w0lo.

    .ol0w0lo. ♫♂GIBBERISH MAN♂♫

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    This is my first character card in a while. I hope it isn't too long.


    Name: Swain

    Age: 24

    Sex: Male

    Race: Half Redguard, Half Nord

    Position: Enlisted/ Recruit

    Birthplace: Hammerfell

    Current Residence: The wilderness surrounding Helgen

    Alliances or Affiliations: N/A

    Occupation: No previous occupation, but experienced as a hunter.

    Appearance: 6’2”, 200 pounds. The bastard son of a Redguard merchant, Swain is a man with the skin of a redguard. From his birth, Swain has been incapable of growing hair on any part of his body, including his head. His eyes are green, and over his left eye is a small scar, a reminder of the first street fight of his youth.

    Personality: Having been orphaned as a child, Swain is an introvert. He rarely speaks, even to those that he considers to be his closest friends. He can be rather cruel and coldhearted, as well as immature in his thoughts. He is decent with a bow, and fairly skilled with a sword, though he has had no formal training.

    History: Swain's mother, a Nord from Falkreath, had been convinced by Swain's father to leave with him for Hammerfell, under the pretense that they would be married. The couple set off on their journey, deeply in love with one another, searching for a place to call home. All was well for six months. When she told the man that she was with child, he revealed the shady details of his life to the woman, revealing that he was already married, and had a family to provide for already. Gisla and her unborn son were left to die in a strange land. Swain was born on a warm night in the city of Sentinel, his mother dying after giving birth.

    From the moment of his birth, Swain was moved from orphanage to orphanage, wondering why his parents hadn't wanted him. He tried his hardest to be like the other kids. He ran and jumped and skipped with the best of them, but to no avail. Finally, after years of trying, Swain succeeded in getting adopted. He and his new family set off for their home in Markarth, but small luxuries, such as family and love, were not in the cards for Swain. At the tender age of eight, Swain witnessed the murder of his adoptive parents as they crossed the border into Skyrim. He watched in horror as the bandits abused his mother, verbally and sexually. He watched as they skinned his father.

    He was then taken by the bandits to later be sold to the highest bidder. Luckily enough, the bandits did not live long enough to find such a bidder. A year after his abduction, when he was nine, Swain stood witness as a nord named Beua brutally murdered the bandits, stripping them of all of their possessions. Swain wanted nothing more than to accompany his savior in his travels, but the Nord would hear nothing of it. Beau promptly escorted Swain to the Honorhall Orphanage in the Rift.

    This orphanage wasn’t even vaguely similar to the orphanages of Hammerfell. While in Hammerfell, the caretakers neglected the orphans unintentionally, this Grelod the Kind seemed to hate the children. She often beat them, and they never saw any prospects or potential parents.

    Eventually, Swain decided that he had had enough. Seven years after having arrived at Honorhall, he had finally decided to leave. He was sixteen, and while he was far older than most other orphans, Grelod had continued to keep him locked up in the orphanage with the others. In the dark of the night, he snuck out of the orphanage, and the Rift, heading west, away from Grelod, and hopefully, toward a new, bright future.

    Unfortunately, a bright future was not intended for a boy such as Swain. Soon after his departure from the Rift, the Stormcloak army fell to the Empire, and as a result, a plethora of new, harsh restrictions were put over the people of Skyrim. The young man, sixteen years of age, traveled across the province, witnessing the oppression of many families. He watched as their homes were taken, their crops ravaged, and their spirits destroyed. For eight years he tolerated these conditions, but finally he had decided that something had to be done for these people. The red-nord traveled to Helgen, where he had been told small coalitions of troops were mustering to oppose the imperial oppression.


    Roleplaying Sample: (Taken from a fanfic that I started a few months ago.)

    The sky was grey as clouds of rain drifted over Whiterun. Besides the clouds, the sky was empty; no birds, no butterflies, no sun. Halvor walked slowly, nearly overrun with grief. Today, he buried a friend.

    He walked in and out of Dragonsreach, coming to the landing where Numinex and Odahviing had been captured. Outside, there were twenty or thirty men and women, mostly nords. At the end of the balcony was a small scaffold. On the scaffold was his friend, surrounded by several other people who were close to him.

    Halvor slowly approached the scaffold. As he passed, he could hear the people’s sobs and moans. He could feel their pain. He knew what they had lost, and what this man was to them. He looked at the children of the deceased. There were two sons and a daughter, all three weeping silently for their father. He looked at their uncle, a warrior and a man, now brought nearly to tears by the sight of his dead brother.

    Halvor climbed the stairs to the scaffold and faced the people of Whiterun. “All of you know who I am,” he started. “Some of you call me Dragonborn, others of you call me Harbinger. You know me as the slayer of Alduin, and as leader of the companions, but how many of you can say that you have known me as a man and a nord? How many of you can say that you’ve sat by my side and ate a meal, or have even held a conversation with me? None of you can. The only man in Whiterun who truly knew me now lies here before all of us, dead. ”

    “Jarl Balgruuf and I were great friends, and with him lie all of the things that he believed in. But how many of you know what Balgruuf stood for? Many of you knew nothing of Balgruuf, past his title. You weep for a man that you did not know. And why is that? This man never once shook your hands or held your children. The only time that many of you even saw this man was during his speeches. Perhaps you weep because you are afraid of the Stormcloaks, and others may be afraid of the Imperials. Maybe you are afraid of the Thalmor. Perhaps you weep because those around you weep. But no matter the reason, you are not weeping for this man. You weep because you fear the future that he has left you. But why should this one man have been responsible for protecting all of you? Why can you not stand together and fight alongside one another? Why can you not set aside your petty arguments and allegiances? Balgruuf spent the last part of his life trying to keep Whiterun out of the civil war, but the City itself seems to be in a civil war of its own. Be a citizen of Whiterun first, and of the Empire second! Be a citizen of Whiterun first and a son of Skyrim second.” Halvor’s voice cracked on the last word. He cleared his throat and turned from the crowd, fighting back tears. He sat next to Hrongar who patted him on his back. He looked at the crowd. They had stopped sobbing, and the room was silent.

    Hopefully this wasn't too long and boring. Please let me know if this is a terrible CC.
     
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  8. Melee

    Melee I'm back, bitches

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    Name: Fenditura (Fen)
    Age: 21
    Sex: Female
    Race: Wood Elf
    Position: Blacksmith/Crafter
    Birthplace: Valenwood
    Current Residence: Markarth
    Alliances or Affiliations: None.
    Occupation: Prior to/during the war: Assisting Calcelmo with his Dwemer museum. After the war: Assisting blacksmiths and crafters while keeping up with her Dwemer research.
    Appearance: Fen has the typical physical appearance of a female Wood Elf, short, slender, and nimble with light copper colored skin. Her hair is short, choppy, and a dark but brilliant shade of red that she’s rather proud of. Her eyes are almond shaped but slightly larger than elven eyes normally are.

    I made Fen's picture a spoiler since it's probably huge, haha.
    Personality:Fenditura (or Fen, as she prefers to be called) is a resourceful, intelligent, and quick witted Wood Elf with a noticeable stubborn streak. Her personality can be described, at the least, as eccentric and unique. While she's not a serious person, she does exhibit a level of maturity beyond her years. True to her Wood Elf nature, however, she's mischievous, a bit impulsive and incredibly energetic. Sometimes it’s a bit difficult for her to think rationally, and will sometimes follow her heart when instead she should follow her head.

    As a child, while most Wood Elf children were running through the forest and learning to use a bow and arrows, Fen was drawn to stories she heard about the Dwemer, masters of mechanical and scientific inventions and research. Ever since then, she’s been educating herself on their ways of creating and repairing mechanical objects, as well as getting her hands on any bits of Dwarven metal that she can find. She’s become very good at smithing creations out of the scraps she finds, her resourcefulness no doubt aiding and expanding because of this.

    If she’s in a situation that calls for close combat, Fen will use her agility and natural talent with a bow to run around her enemies and take them out with a few well aimed shots. She’s not a fan of getting up close to people to fight them since she didn’t learn that type of combat in Valenwood.
    At the moment, she’s secretly trying to learn how to get Dwarven Spiders to fight under her control, but she isn’t able to get one working for more than a few seconds.

    History: Fen was born in Silvenar in Valenwood. She had an older brother, Caccio, who excelled at hunting. Her father was a hunter and tradesman, and her mother was a scholar (she was actually the one who sparked Fen’s interest in the Dwemer).
    At the beginning of the Fourth Era, when the Thalmor consolidated Valenwood into the Second Dominion, Fen’s parents were part of a small group that tried to resist the Thalmor’s actions. They were killed in one of their resistance movements, and Caccio joined the Dominion, leaving a very young Fen hurt, confused, and alone. She fled to Skyrim, the only place she knew of where she would be able to avoid direct Thalmor influence. Little did she know that the Aldmeri Dominion was also trying to gain control of the place she had sought refuge in, a fact she was by no means happy with once she had become established in Markarth, far from her home.
    Due to her interest in Dwemer artifacts and mechanics, Fen helped Calcelmo with his Dwemer museum and secretly worked on experimenting with the Dwemer technology she has read about and researched. Once the museum was completed a few years after the Civil War ended, Calcelmo no longer required Fen's services and dismissed her. Since then, she has been living in Markarth helping blacksmiths and crafters with their trade, learning from them to apply their skills to her Dwemer research (which, sadly, hasn't been as easy to conduct since the museum's completion).
    Roleplaying Sample: The cog in her hand was warm, having been mulled about and transferred between fingers as she mused over the golden but rusty device sitting on the table in front of her. The spindly, metallic, and lifeless spider had its top casing removed so that the mechanical, humming innards were exposed to the Wood Elf examining them through large home made magnifying goggles. Using a pair of thin but sturdy tweezers, she slowly lowered her hand into the spider, attempting to cautiously place the aged cog into its place, gently, carefully..

    A loud knock at the door startled the Wood Elf, causing her to jump and drop both her tweezers and the Dwarven cog into the body of the artificial spider. Cursing to herself, she swung her legs around her work bench and leaped to her feet, taking care even in her angered state to cover her experiment before answering the door. Pulling her goggles off her face so that they hung loosely around her neck, she flung the door opening, angry amber eyes falling on a young courier.

    Seemingly unfazed by the woman's obvious animosity, the courier held out a letter to her, the side facing up revealing an official and important looking red wax seal. "Fenditura, I presume?" He asked.

    Fen rolled her eyes, swiping the letter out of the courier's hand. "If you were even remotely local to Markarth, you would know that nobody calls me that. I prefer Fen." Her eyes narrowed as they dropped from the courier's calm face to the letter she was beginning to rip open.

    "Ah." The courier bows slightly, backing away from her door with a small smile on his face. "I will leave you to open your personal mail in private. I'm sure that's something you wouldn't want wandering eyes to observe."

    With a quizzical expression across her face, Fen closed the heavy door to her small stone abode situated in one of the more remote sections of Markarth's living areas. The courier's remarks came across as odd to Fen, which made her already wary mentality become more present in her mind. Attempting to shove these thoughts to the back of her mind, she ripped the last bit of the seal off the paper, unfolding the letter and reading the short message on the yellowed paper.
     
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  9. Sid

    Sid The fairly crap Pokémon trainer....

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    Okay, thanks for the advise melee
     
  10. Tickles Da Clown

    Tickles Da Clown Supreme Overlord of Mirth

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    Arthonnen, I too think that your character is too far fetched for the setting of this rp. This is supposed to be about people who have been tread upon, not some guy with super rare stuff from the Shivering Isle. I personally think that you may need to make an entirely new character card.
     
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  11. ChiefScalyNipples

    ChiefScalyNipples Dictator of my bedroom

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    I've made up my mind and I wanna join with Jeroo-Shei. But I dunno what position he could take.
     
  12. Uther Pundragon

    Uther Pundragon The Harbinger of Awesome
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    Honestly, we are looking for normal and common people. Your character is an old and powerful vampire is he not? I'm not sure about Andante, but I'd rather we didn't have any vampires or werewolves. Unless, of course, you felt like toning him down a bit and losing his vampirism. But if you want, apply with him and me and Andante will get to judging the CC's and letting people know.
     
  13. ChiefScalyNipples

    ChiefScalyNipples Dictator of my bedroom

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    Well....maybe I could go with Haneemus instead. But I still don't know what position
     
  14. Melee

    Melee I'm back, bitches

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    You could always just go for Enlisted/Recruiter and see where the wind takes you. :)
     
  15. ChiefScalyNipples

    ChiefScalyNipples Dictator of my bedroom

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    Is it ok of Haneemus takes the chief advisor and tactician? Considering that he has knowledge of Argonian Guerilla Warfare? You'd have to give him septims of course
     
  16. Uther Pundragon

    Uther Pundragon The Harbinger of Awesome
    Staff Member

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    Well, we can't guarantee if people will be accepted now or not. Andante and myself will go over all the applications and judge each one independently. Even if we accept an application that is still not a 100% chance you will get the position applied for. Submit your application and we will get to it when time permits.
     
  17. ChiefScalyNipples

    ChiefScalyNipples Dictator of my bedroom

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    Alright....here's Haneemus' character card

    Name: Haneemus
    Race: Argonian
    Class: Warrior/Mercenary
    Gender: Male
    Appearance: Bright red scaly skin with a pattern of black (outer layer of the shape) and dark green (inner layer of the shape) spots shaped like diamonds and circles (picture the patterns of a snake's scales but in these colors) he has eyes like this (click on this), thin but long nostrils in front of his snout, light green streaks of war-paint protruding south from his eyelids, an "X" like scar on his tail, very burly looking but somewhat shorter than the average Argonian, two thick rhino-like horns sprouting from the top of his head
    Age: Ranging from Early 40's to Mid-40's, approximately 43.
    Birth-sign: The Lord
    Weapons: Ebony Javelin with a thick, long blade and a bunch of long throwing knives for guerilla warfare tactics he was taught back in Argonia. Uses the Javelin for close combat too if needed.
    Armor: Full set (except the head) of unique Heavy Armor designed entirely to fit Argonians that was forged from the bones of dead animals in Black Marsh/Argonia, and mixed with a couple of Iron Chains and a bit of Leather straps along with a bunch of various-colored feathers surrounding the waist like a belt. Unique Steel Helmet that also was designed to fit Argonians, particularly Haneemus, since the helmet has holes for his Rhino-like horns to fit through.
    Main Skills: Two-Handed, Sneak (for guerilla warfare tactics), One-Handed (throwing knives and sometimes his Javelin), Lockpicking (Due to his Argonian instincts), Heavy Armor, Smithing, Alchemy.
    Personality: Very serious and stern, likes to get straight to business. Very versatile, can make good out of any bad situation. Loves a good fight, be it fists or weapons. Loves adventures. Somewhat arrogant and selfish.
    Bio: Haneemus was born in Black Marsh and when he grew to adulthood he served as a guard for the Argonian city of Thorn. He found the job extremely boring, only arresting a couple of citizens for petty thievery and other minor offenses, and never defending the city from attacks or anything exciting. He grew tired of it, and thought of becoming a mercenary. He pondered and considered it, daydreaming on his guard duty about it instead of doing what he was supposed to. Finally he couldn't take it anymore, he felt as if being a mercenary was his true calling. One day he ventured out to the inner swamps of Argonia where most of the Hist trees were located, and climbed up the stone, grey colored, pyramid-like building where the Argonian King of Black Marsh resided and asked him if he could retire. The king nodded, but said that he could only retire when they had someone else to fill his position, and that there was no one eligible at the moment. Haneemus nodded and sighed from disappointment, he bowed before he left the king's presence to show respect, and traveled back to Thorn. After a month of waiting, Haneemus received a letter from an Argonian courier that stated, "Haneemus, I have found another marsh-soldier willing to take your place if you still wish to retire. Return to me if so. - King of Argonia". So Haneemus did just that and handed his standard Argonian guard armor to the new soldier standing before him and walked away, however he kept his Javelin. Weeks later, he hunted a couple of the native beasts in Black Marsh and forged some new armor out of their bones in a similiar style and appearance to the standard Argonian guard armor he had before, but he was smart enough to include some minor differences so none of the Argonian citizens would've confused him for a guard. After a couple of months, he left Black Marsh and journeyed all over Tamriel to be a mercenary. He is now a well known mercenary and very wealthy.
     
  18. Uther Pundragon

    Uther Pundragon The Harbinger of Awesome
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    Be sure to include everything that is on the application. Andante was kind enough to provide the format in the original post. From what I gather, you still need to add:

    Race: [Within the constraints of the Elder Scrolls.]
    Position: [Include the position you would like to apply for.]
    Birthplace:
    Current Residence:
    Alliances or Affiliations:
    Occupation: [Either prior to, or after the war.]
    Roleplaying Sample: [Include here 5 - 10 sentences that display your roleplaying style for us, so we can get a feel for how you write. Try your best to include things like dialogue, or an interaction. This can be taken from a previous roleplay post, fanfiction, or other writing of yours if you so choose.]

    Also this RP will be rated +18, and I just remember you are under 18. Some exceptions *may* be made. I will have to talk with Andante later.
     
  19. ChiefScalyNipples

    ChiefScalyNipples Dictator of my bedroom

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    You already know he's argonian, I already said that lol. As for everything else. I'll get to that in a bit.
     
  20. ChiefScalyNipples

    ChiefScalyNipples Dictator of my bedroom

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    Race: I said he was an Argonian lol
    Position: Chief Advisor/Tactician (for money)
    Birthplace: Thorn, Argonia (Black Marsh)
    Alliances or Affiliations: Nothing, just a nomadic mercenary.
    Current Residence: has no residence, he's nomadic
    Occupation: Mercenary
    Role playing Sample: (I've never RP'd with this character before so I'm going to have to make something up) "You want me to kill a Hagraven AND a Giant, my Jarl? While this seems like a challenging request, give me the pay in return, and by the Hist, both the bird-witch and the overgrown Nord will drop like flies."
     

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