OOC Sins of our Elders [[Accepting Applications]]

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    Kir the Silent

    Until Your Flesh Is Consumed
    Name: Kir Dayash known alias “The Scarred Strategist,” “Kinslayer”

    Age: 28
    Sex: Male

    Race: Bosmer

    Position: Chief Advisor and Strategist
    Birthplace: Valenwood

    Current Residence: A hovel hidden in the forests of Falkreath

    Alliances or Affiliations: The Thalmor(Formerly one of their youngest prodigies and tacticians), Stormcloak Rebellion(Aided them during the civil war), Thieves’ Guild(Connected to an information network)

    Occupation: Strategist(Before the Civil War), Saboteur and Advisor(During the Civil War), Hunter(Currently)
    Appearance: Dawn-golden hair, black wood elf eyes, black tatoo around right eye(wood elven symbol), 5'7, 155 pounds, thin and athletic, slightly muscular, and a crescent shaped scar on his chin. Unique black leather lined with wolf fur with chainmail underneath. Fingerless black leather gauntlets, a hidden mechanism built into the left. Black hood with mask. Black leather boots, concealed blade in right. Wood elven markings adorn it.

    Personality: Kir is an enigma. He is sometimes immature, sarcastic, and stubborn. But other times he is silent, cold, and calculating giving him an unsettling personality. Whether the immature Kir is his true self and the cold Kir his serious and tactical side, or if he may have multiple personalities is a mystery. He is a hard man to get close to and his trust is not easily gained. Once broken it can never be regained. He likes the outdoors and Stros M’kia Rum, now hard to acquire due to the Thalmor constraints. He hates ignorance and is saddened by the foolishness of his kinsmen, blinded by the Thalmor’s lies. He is seen to be merciless and ruthless in his tactics, but kind and caring to others. No matter what though, one thing can be said about Kir. He is loyal to the death.
    History: Kir was born to minor nobility in Valenwood, however his early childhood was filled with tradegy. His entire family was dragged out of their house when he was only five years old. They had spoken out against some of the Dominions tactics and beliefs, there in the middle of the town they were brought before a crowd. It was mandatory that all citizens nearby watch the proceedings. They were summarily tried…and executed…all save Kir.

    As the youngest they believed he could still be “saved.” They took him to a hidden fortress and there he was denied all forms of interaction with any his own age. Mainly he was a trophy, an example to the masses. However, at the age of eleven he started to show signs of heightened intellect and an uncanny ability to read people and situations. They decided to mold him. From then on he was tutored by some of the greatest minds the Thalmor could spare. From history to complex battle strategy, he was quickly becoming an expert.

    During a mock battle Kir was able to beat and humiliate a top Thalmor tactician. They gave him a command to see what he could do in a real battle, making him the youngest officer in the Dominion at only seventeen.

    But Kir had not forgotten the crime of the Dominion and vengeance still burned brightly in his heart and finally…he made his move. The officials that had executed his family so long ago were headed to Skyrim to watch the Imperials. Some kind of rebellion Kir had heard rumors of. On the way Kir ambushed the caravan, his soldiers under the impression it was a mock battle. His strategy was flawless and in minutes it was over. A woman named Elenwen had escaped, but he had captured the ones he wanted. Kir executed them, pretending that it was a simple paralytic spell, with cold brutality and made his escape.

    Now branded as traitor by the Dominion, he headed for Skyrim to aid the nords in their fight. Making his way there was simple; convincing the Stormcloaks and Ulfric of his intentions was another matter entirely. After a trial on island facing an ice wraith, he had earned their trust. Or what little he could at least. While he wasn’t given a command, he advised on battle plans and supplied as much intel as he could. However, it was all for naught in the end as the rebellion was crushed. Kir was crestfallen. He was sure he could have turned the tides of quite a few battles. Not willing to leave these people to his fate and branded “Kinslayer” by his own people, he stayed in Skyrim.

    He disappeared into the forests and hid himself from the world, becoming a solitary hunter for a decade. He still wanted to strike back against the ones that had turned him into this…to strike back against the tyranny of those that had betrayed him, his family, and his entire race. So deep in the forest he waits for his opportunity…
    Roleplaying Sample: "Such pathetic creatures...ignorant and frail...they are naught but dust and dessipated just as easily..." The Dark Stranger stood high upon the mountain, his crimson eyes surveying the land called Skyrim. His pitch black robe stirred in the wind silently. To anyone looking on they would have just though him a simple traveler or hermit. And for now...that suited his needs. "They are a disease... a pestilence clinging desperately to the one true achievement of the gods...tainting it..."

    He drew the weapon from within his robes and studied for the hundreth time. Such a small thing, yet it contained incredible power. Incredible and terrible. His eyes surveyed the land once more. As they had for years, but what he searched for was still hidden from even his unrelenting gaze. "Very clever old friend...but you won't prolong the inevitable...not forever..." He was getting closer. Soon the prize would be his and the infernal fires would rain upon these unsuspecting insects. Of course there was that one...annoyance to deal with. He didn't fear him, but it's better to err on the side of caution.He turned to the mortal worm that had stood silently in fear of his master. "When he leaves the city...I don't want to be able to recognize his corpse...
    An older redguard sat in a dark corner slowly examining the patrons. His black-brown hair was peppered with grey. The old scimitar on his hip had lost its shine, but not its edge. Much like its weilder. Daran Dyash sat back and muttered to himself, "I know he can't do it alone, but gods did we really have to look all the way in Solitude?" He ordered venison chop and water, none of that nord swill would pass his lips. He opened the knapsack on the ground next to him and pulled out a bottle, "I wish I had brought more Stros M'kai Rum. If he doesn't hurry back I'll drink it all myself." He sighed thinking about the future and past, he loved the boy as his own but he missed Hammerfell. Hard to believe he had been back there less than two years ago. It felt like an era. His eyes wandered back to the crowd. Yet no one looked promising, and this was a delicate situation after all. They couldn't just hire anyone. "A few more hours," he muttered. "Then we may have to try elsewhere, take a carriage Whiterun maybe." His food arrived and he ate slowly, praying for a sign. "We need reliable assistance, after all. I'm too old to help as much as I'd wish."

    He sat back in his seat and once more surveyed the tavern. For an hour he listened to the bard and the patrons. As with all the inns and taverns they had stopped at he listen especially for information about...him...the dark one. He could almost feel the evil...and the laugh...gods, the laugh! Now heard the bard singing "The Dovahkiin's Saga" and people still talked about what had to be the most boring gossip in all of Tamriel. When one conversation caught his ear. "Did you hear?" one patron said to another. "Someone actually robbed the Dragonborn's home in Whiterun!" The other leaned forward, "Really!?" The first nodded, "But they only stole some old dwarven dagger or some such. Whoever they were, they're lucky the Dovahkiin retired to High Hrothgar." The old redguard raised an eyebrow, but after that the conversation grew rather dull. He had heard the door open several times during it and turn to observe several new faces. "Hmm, interesting..."
     

    Kir the Silent

    Until Your Flesh Is Consumed
    Sorry if all that is a bit long winded or too much, when I create a character I just prefer to give them depth and complexity. Hoping that the reader will form an emotional connection or just enjoys him. Also as more of an intellectual character he is only slightly skilled with a blade, preferring the command tent or stealth(Cloak and Dagger) to the frontlines of a battle. There is deffinently room for improvement in his fighting skills. Also he has no enchanted weapons or amor, his armor is simply leather and fur. His sword, an elven longsword.
     

    Sid

    The fairly crap Pokémon trainer....
    I've decided I'm fine Changing my character completely to fit in with the story So here's my knew Character:
    Name: Fenrir Ice-Veins
    Race: Nord
    Age: 38
    Position: Trainer
    Birth Place: Passwall, Shivering Isles
    Current Residence: Wreck of the Winter War
    Alliances or Affiliations: Ex-Stormcloak Associate
    Occupation: Mercenary
    Appearance: Has a lot of Wolf like features; Light Grey almost white Eyes, Long (Just beyond the shoulder) brown hair and a full face beard (basically a ,ore bushy version of Ralof's Beard). He has a wide hook nose. He always is covered in some mud, and usually looks travel-worn. Around 6'4" and about 175 lbs. Dark green war paint going from both eyes to throat (Warpaint No. 7 from the far left). Wields Duskfang/Dawnfang and a often a shield made in the fashion of Targe of the Blooded. He akso wields a crossbow with steel bolts. He wears a adaptation of Stormcloak Armour, banded Iron Pauldrons, and its a dark grey colour with a light grey Wolf Insignia (See Bottom). He wears no shoes, gauntlets or helmets.
    Personality: Has rather cheerful typical Nord personality. One of his undoubted weakness' has to be his love of Mead, Sweet Roles and Wolves. At his worst he can be stubborn, brutish and annoying. At his best he can be stubborn, kind and loyal. His trust is not easily gained and losing his trust is more likely than not. He also has a passion for architecture and Akaviri history.
    History: Born into the settlement of Passwall, his Great-Great-Grandfather was Jayred Ice-Vein, the slayer of the Gate-Keeper. At the age of 12 his parents were executed for a reason he didn't know why. When he was 20 he was banished from the Realm for "Bringing Hircines Curse to this Realm." He understood now why his parents had been killed, they had been Lycanthropes, thus making him a Lycan. Once transported to Tamriel he made his way to Windhelm. He was accepted into the community. When the Civil War broke out he immediately offered his services to Ulfric (A bit like Hessians to the Brits in 18th century). Fenrir was one of the few who escaped the Dragon Attack on Helgen However when Ulfric was killed he fled to Wreck of the Winter War. There have been only a few times when he lost control of his wolf form, all the time ending in casualties.
    Role-Playing Sample: (You've already got that from earlier, just change the names and races to match.)


    images
    This Insignia without the T and the Wolf's light grey
     

    The Phantom

    Consulting Criminal
    No, your character doesn't now suit the thread. You're still a veteran with powerful enchanted weapons! You're just not from the Isles!
     

    Sid

    The fairly crap Pokémon trainer....
    It fits the thread more than the last one as he has a reason to hate the empire. oh and 1 enchanted weapon
     

    A.Auditore

    maybe...
    *throws papers* Ok Here it is...


    Name: Eruraviel or Eru for short

    Age: 26

    Sex: Female

    Race: Nord

    Position: Enlisted

    Birthplace: Dawnstar

    Current Residence: Whiterun

    Alliances or Affiliations: None

    Occupation: Farmer


    Appearance:

    Standing at 5'5 with a small yet well-toned frame, her hair is shoulder-length, red with a black undertone, and is normally worn loose and curled out. She has hazel eyes with a yellowish hue to them and a scar above her lip on the left side. Both of her ears are pierced and an elaborate marking covers her entire right arm, from shoulder to wrist.


    Personality: Erus’ personality is hard to match at times because you never know what she is about to do, if you were to describe her it would be like the weather always changing and unpredictable, she can be smiles and sunshine during a rainstorm yet it could be sunny and not a cloud out and she can be grumpy and hating life. At times she looks calm and collected and can be very pleasant but when provoked depending on the state of the “crime” she has three stages of anger: One is the sarcastic stage, where she talks to you but it is always in a sarcastic tone , Two is the anger stage, where she talks to you but it’s in the manner of her getting ready to strike you and lastly which is not very often and one that she herself does not like to be in is the silent stage, where she sits silently and plots her revenge on you, but like her other side (she’s not bipolar or has a spilt persona) when she is not angered she is sweet and pleasant to be around with, this part of her has won many hearts of the opposite sex but has lead down to a unpleasant path, mostly of which her being screwed over by, thus her silent anger emerges.

    History: Eru was born to a Nord mother and father in Dawnstar. Her childhood wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad it was more in the middle, at a young age she helped her mother around the house with little chores, such as washing dishes and clothes and cleaning the floors of their small home, after a while and finally fed up with the harsh cold weather of Dawnstar her parents moved themselves and her to Whiterun and build a farm, harvesting produce and mending to livestock, well what was left over after the war, they started to slowly rebuild and giving half of what they had farmed to whoever needed it in their time of need.Soon it became time for her to travel out and make small deliveries to the nearby villages and homes and given the current events, her father thought it would be wise to at least teach her how to defend herself when she was out on the road. Her parents passed away one cold winter day, and she was soon by herself on the little farm, with nothing else left she stayed until an opportunity presented itself.

    image.jpg image.jpg
     

    Znowcicle

    Chimera~
    Here it is! Finally! I hope you all like her. I would really enjoy playing her. :)
    Name: Le'zha Rinjin

    Age: 25 or 27 (depending on if the time this RP takes place is in 4E 213 or 4E 215)

    Sex: Female

    Race: Nord

    Position: Refugee

    Birthplace: Whiterun, Skyrim

    Current Residence: The Chillfurrow Farm near Whiterun.

    Alliances or Affiliations: Imperial Legion (severed), the Khajiit caravans, and Mara.

    Occupation: Sells vegetables and helps tend the farm. She also writes.

    Appearance: Le'zha is Nordic in appearance and gained a lot of her physical attributes from her mother. She acquired the same pale complexion as her mother, but she has the muddy green color of her eyes from her father. Her hair is long, extending down past her waist but not much farther, and it is tawny in color with some golden blonde strands and some dusty brown strands. Her hair usually has two braids on either side of her head that connect at the back of her head as a sort of crown. She has a birthmark on the left side of her neck. It is simply an oval that is a little darker in color than the rest of her skin. She also has tiny moles on her neck in various places. She is of average height, but her weight is slightly over average. She has wide-set hips, and her thighs are somewhat thick. Her stomach is not flat, but nor is it flabby, and her chest is average although her broad shoulders dwarf it.

    Personality: Le'zha Rinjin is calm person. She believes in second chances, to an extent, and is caring to everyone until you give her a reason not to be. Quiet, and mostly resolved, she likes to help others and is contemplative. She also likes to read and to write riddles and poems. She is a generous soul that hates to see others go without. She is strong in her opinions, when she finds the voice to speak them, and she is protective over those she loves, especially children.
    Although she is this generous, caring person, she sometimes finds herself in bitter moods, but it depends on what set the mood off to determine how long the bitterness will last. She has a weakness for animals and there are strays that ramble across the farm because of it. She also has a divine hatred for people who have committed 'sins of flesh.' She tries to avoid those that have committed such acts due to this hatred in fear that she would remark something she may, or may not, regret.

    As for her skills, she is excellent at nurturing plants. She learned a small bit of fire magic from Wilmuth (the farmer at Chillfurrow) for necessities such as starting fires for warmth or to cook, for she does not know enough magic to use for offensive or defensive purposes. She is very philosophical and loves to give reasonable advice to those in need if they'll let her. She is also very good at distinguishing different alcohols by taste alone. She can tan hides and knows how to use a bow well enough to fell prey like deer or elk.

    History:
    Le'zha was born of a Nordic father, who was a traveling merchant, and a Nordic mother, who was a barmaid at the Bannard Mare. Le'zha's father had just come from Elsweyr back to Skyrim before the Civil War conflict between the Empire and the Stormcloaks. He was traveling with the Khajiiti merchants when he met Le'zha's mother, Jules. She was a coy woman with an easy-going, joke loving way about her. It was no wonder that Algernon fell in love with her, and she him what with his chivalric ways and warm natured heart. Needless to say, Le'zha was born in the month of Heartfire 4E 288 after they were married earlier that year.
    They lived a modest life together. While Jules was pregnant with Le'zha, they moved in with Jules' father, Wilmuth, who worked the farm Chillfurrow just outside Whiterun for Nazeem. Algernon continued work as a merchant around Whiterun, and Jules became a stay at home mom. Jules taught Le'zha how to read and write, and Algernon was also very active in Le'zha's early life. Algernon taught Le'zha how to skin hides and hunt a little bit with a bow after she turn ten. Throughout all of Le'zha's life, she was taught in the ways of both Khajiit and Nord due to her father's earlier interest with Khajiits and their way of life. Things were peaceful in the family until the Civil War started when Le'zha was thirteen.
    Le'zha was left with Wilmuth at the farm when her parents joined arms with the Imperial Legion. They believed that Ulfric was very close-minded and disagreed with how he viewed the other races' presence in Skyrim such as the Khajiit caravans outside Whiterun and the Dunmer in Windhelm. Le'zha was lonely during this time in her life. She was often stricken with panic attacks and constant worry for her parents. All around the news poured in about how bloody the war was. Letters about dead family members would come through Whiterun at least every month. Not to mention the tension in town between the Grey-Manes and Battleborns was constantly flaring up to add on top of Le'zha's worries.
    Le'zha received letters from her parents as often as they could write, which gave her some comfort, but as the war progressed and the year changed from 201 to 205 the letters stopped coming as often and then stopped coming at all. Wilmuth was Le'zha's only rock as she was the metaphoric balloon during this time, and it was around this time that Wilmuth distracted Le'zha with teaching her a little fire magic. She didn't take to it well and could only make small flames for a very short time, but it served the purpose that he had hoped for. After the war was settled and over with, the Empire victorious, Le'zha and Wilmuth received a letter from her father saying that he was coming home soon. When he reached home, (Le'zha is 17 now) Jules wasn't with him. Le'zha denounced the Empire and the Stormcloaks. She began to hate the Altmer for instigating the war and became more bitter towards the government around this time.
    In the years that followed the end of the war, Algernon became quiet fond of the drink. Thankfully, he did not turn into an angry drunk, and his drinking was constant but light. Enough to ease the pain Le'zha always thought. The light in his eyes was gone now that he was back from war, and his involvement in Le'zha's life was less and less as time went on. He was morose all the time, and despite Le'zha's best attempts to make him smile, he would not.
    When she turned nineteen she took over her father's stall in the market, but most days they had no business. A lot of the time Le'zha fed the extra food they didn't sell or eat to stray cats and a couple dogs that passed by. Some stayed as permanent pets. She took out her emotional stress in hunting what little she could, but her true release was writing. She started writing more and more in her time at the stall each day, and eventually she showed one of the riddles she wrote to her father. After he read it and asked the answer, he showed the most emotion he had in years; he sobbed.
    When Le'zha was twenty-two, not much had changed. Her father had become a little more active in things around the farm but still drank daily. Wilmuth was still alive and she talked to him often. Le'zha was beginning to grow content with her life as a stall vendor and farmer. She took care of her father, even though he was well and able, but she cared for him by spending time with him. Within in the next year, her father and her got along a lot like they had before the war when her mother was still alive. They hunted together when they could, and he worked the farm now that Wilmuth was getting too old to.
    Algernon instilled a way of thinking in Le'zha that he didn't know he had by staying faithful to her mother even after her death. Le'zha respected that about her father and admired it. Although with her time consumed with the farm, the stall, and her father she didn't have much interest in pursuing a relationship at the time. At the present time, she still works the farm and stall with her father. Wilmuth is still alive, and she still has the same mentality she did in the years previous.

    Roleplaying Sample: This is one of my posts from The Black Reach Expedition. I play Azaelia whose dialogue is in white.
    Azaelia nodded to Edwin as he awoke and got out of his tent. He shook the grogginess from his bones and spoke a little to her.

    "Ah, I see Arith has already taken it upon himself to go to sleep. I'm sure he will be having fun tomorrow morning with that hangover, huh?" He had grinned at her when he said this, and she smiled a little shyly remembering her participation in the drunken games.

    "Go ahead and take your rest; I will stand watch now." She nodded again to him and retreated to her tent only to surface out in the air again.

    "I'm too anxious to sleep..." She began as she fiddled with some leather that was hanging off her hip.

    "Knowing that soon I'll be underground for two months has made me want to wander a bit. Feel the air on my skin, you know?" She started to leave, her only weapon the axe on her hip as she had left the rest in her tent, and she then turned back to Edwin before getting out of earshot.

    "I will be back in a little while. I just want to be alone for a little bit." She smiled to him to assure him that it wasn't for any bad reason and then took her leave of the campsite. She halted when she heard a wolf's howl. Shivers made their way slickly down her spine as memories flashed through her mind in a small instant. She squeezed her eyes shut again them and then continued on her small personal mission. She knew that there was a river nearby, and she also knew that it would be cold and refreshing and blissfully numbing.

    As she walked she heard tree limbs crackling and the wind slowly dying down to a whisper rather than the roar it had been earlier in the day. The moons were shining brightly down on the snowy white landscape as she trekked down a slight slope towards the sound of running water. A fox jumped as she stepped on a twig and scurried away back to its' den as she continued down the slope to the bank.

    Gently, she began to strip away her armor after looking cautiously around. The brisk Skyrim air was bracing against her wan flesh but it was also invigorating. She stood for a moment letting her skin bathe in the moonlight letting her hair brush against her mostly bare back and chest. For this moment she had left her under most clothing on and she closed her eyes as she breathed in and out enjoying the free weight on her chest. Slowly, she moved her hands to the sides of her helmet and removed it gently from her head. She let the helm fall to the ground with a soft plop into the mud alongside the river bank. The sound of the water running over the smooth pebbles was surprisingly soothing and soon enough, she found herself beginning to wade into the frigid waters.

    Her long hair looked white in the moonlight and paired well with her pale body. the long strands of hair swayed and swam through the current as she felt her tight muscles begin to loosen in the cold water. She leaned her head back and began to work her fingers through it freeing the soft strands from the sticky brown blood that was splotched against it. She washed her face, the dirt and residual blood coming free and letting her face shine like the moon's above her. Her fingers outlined a few special spots on her face that she purposefully hid from others out of shame and the need for secrecy. She gasped despite herself as she ran the tips of her fingers along the worst of it.

    After all her menial tasks of cleanliness were accomplished, she simply anchored herself in the river bed and allowed the water to flow around her body. Her skin was covered in goose flesh but she didn't mind at the moment. Her thoughts were clear for once and she enjoyed the sound of the river movement filling her mind. She smiled as she swam her hands through the waters in a graceful way and opened her mouth letting out a quiet but strong voice in the manner of song.

    "I am the warrior...I am the spirit...I am the survivor and all that comes with it..."
     

    Andante

    Roleplaying Moderator
    Uther and I will be going over the applications one by one, this afternoon. We'll (hopefully) have the roles set, and the first post made by tonight - however, no promises, as it's been a busy week. Luck to you all. :D
     

    Sid

    The fairly crap Pokémon trainer....
    When is tonight for you? Cause I'm a Brit I'm already in "Tonight".
     

    Sid

    The fairly crap Pokémon trainer....
    Sorry for not specifying. I'm in the U.S. in the Eastern Time zone, it's currently 3:18pm here. I'm sure my "tonight" will be well into your wee hours of the morning. Sorry for that. :sadface:
    Thanks for confirming this. Doesn't matter
     

    The Phantom

    Consulting Criminal
    Ummm..... Think I might quickly make a new character

    Character Name: Greywyn Praeco

    Age: 38

    Sex: Male

    Race: Imperial

    Position: Enlisted, Spy

    Birthplace: Riften

    Current Residence: Hjerim

    Alliances and Allegiances: He has none

    Occupation: Diplomat for the East Empire Company

    Appearance: He is very posh and sophisticated. He has a very high posture and under normal circumstances is very well dressed. He typically sports a lot of clothes very reminiscent of the georgian era and also wears a stereotypical wig.

    Personality: He is a very deceitful man. He has a talent for lying and a nack for diplomacy. He is a very nice man if you get down to it and knows how to make friends, but also how not to make friends. His personality can sometimes be called annoying and is a bit of a "boot-licker" causing those with an already distrustful disposition to dislike him.

    History: He was born in Riften to poor parents who died soon thereafter. A kindly Argonian, Madesi, a jeweller in the markets took him in and taught him the way of the merchants, persuasion. He eventually took an interest in politics and was adept at what politicians do most, lie. He started out as a speaker for the Riften merchants committee and was soon recruited by the Empire, then at war with the Aldmeri Dominion. At the end of the war he was present at the signing of the White-Gold Concordat but was strongly against the Emperor accepting the ban on Talos and the abolition of the Blades. Outraged by this when the Stormcloak rebellion began he sided with the Stormcloaks as their ambassador. Following their defeat and the death of Ulfric he stayed in Windhelm as the ambassador for Brunwulf Free-Winter. He was fired after he agreed to terms that was against the Empires ethics. Praeco stayed in Windhelm living off the money that he had already earned prior. Until one day the Thalmor burst into his house and tried to arrest him, he hid in the secret cupboard room in Hjerim and fled to Helgen, a place he heard was starting a revolution.
    Roleplaying Sample: You have already seen my style on other threads and my previous posts.... Hope that counts if not then let me know.
     

    Wishmaker1234

    Speaker to the Dazed
    • Name: Casimiria
    • Gender: Male
    • Race: Imperial
    • Position:Tactician
    • Birthplace:The Imperial City
    • Current Residence: The Winking Skeever,Solitude
    • Affiliations: Casimiria was a member of the Elder council
    • Occupation: Military Historian/Author
    • Appearance: Short in stature has gray cropped hair in his 40's has gray eyes medium build wears Fine clothing
    • Personality: He has a bit of a superiority complex,Does not being told what to do because its his way or the highway he has been known to storm off and get revenge if someone "steps on his toe's"
    • History: Casimiria being a member of the elder council was in charge of the war planning commitee he was in charge of prioritizing locations to attack and managing resources. He was pivotal in the first civil advising tullius so he could defeat the stormcloaks. After the war He wrote a Tell all book about the Stormcloak Rebellion and about the day to day life of General Tullius During the war. However the Empire denied him royalties from his book because it reflected poorly on the Empire, and it contained "sensitive Information". Casimiria was then forced to resign and all copies of his book were burned. Ever since then he has had a Chip on his shoulder against the Empire and the Thalmor.
    • Roleplaying Sample: "Got a letter for you sir your eyes only." said the courier. "Thank You this must be the letter from First Edition about buying more of my books. Wait what is this a letter of resignation what I am not resigning." Suddenly Imperial troops burst through the door "Oh yes you are!" the Captain of the gaurds said. The contents of your book has made General Tullius look like a monster He the people are demanding that he be executed. The bigger of the Gaurds held a sword to casimiris He yelled at him to sign on the letter. Casimiris shaking signed the letter of recognition. Then the captain of the gaurds said I would leave Cyrodil If I were the people are Pretty upset with the Elder Coucil Right now.
    This is my first roleplay so it may not be that Great.
     

    Andante

    Roleplaying Moderator
    Three named positions remain open. If you'd like to change your character's position before we begin, please let us know.
     

    Znowcicle

    Chimera~
    Oh my goodness! I'm so excited that you and Uthy have allowed me to participate! Thank you so much! I look forward to writing my first post with Le'zha. :)
     

    Andante

    Roleplaying Moderator
    For clarification, the role play is currently closed to new applicants. Thank you to everyone who applied and showed interest. If we need new, or more players in the future we'll be sure to let everyone know. :)
     

    Kir the Silent

    Until Your Flesh Is Consumed
    Yes I'm in :D This has the makings to be an incredible rp and I'm glad I get to be in it. Thanks Uther and Andante
     

    Melee

    I'm back, bitches
    I'm so excited for this to start! :D Thanks so much for letting me be a part of this guys! :)
     

    Sid

    The fairly crap Pokémon trainer....
    Well that could have gone down better...
     

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