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OOC The Corrupted Guardian

Discussion in 'Skyrim Roleplaying' started by The Honorable Gidian the Diva, Feb 3, 2014.

  1. Daryl Dixon

    Daryl Dixon Well-Known Member

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    I'm going to go through my full 4 years minimum service before you guys catch up


    Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
     
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  2. Keidivh

    Keidivh Noble exile of High Rock

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    Hi all, sorry for the disappearance, things have been stressful in rl and lost my creative drive, and eventually just stopped checking in. Not sure if this is still going on but I just wanted to offer my apologies, and if it is still going on I'd love to continue, if I'm allowed =)
     
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  3. The Honorable Gidian the Diva

    The Honorable Gidian the Diva Sahrot Vahlok Spaan. Bahnahgaar. Minion #88!

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    We're still going. We're almost finished with the next major post.

    You can write something up to continue things on the other end of things. Melee is considered MIA and Archer Drake has not posted yet so I don't expect him to still be active either. As such, you have my full permission to do what you have to do to progress. NPC their characters if you absolutely have to but generally avoid mentioning too much about what they say or do unless their creators make a surprise return. They will simply elect to work on a different team from you and be escorted out concluding the testing stages.
     
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  4. Keidivh

    Keidivh Noble exile of High Rock

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    Sorry to hear they aren't around right now either. I'll get something up by tomorrow to progress this fight so that way hopefully things would be ready for whenever the next big drive in the story posts. Thanks for your understanding though mate
     
  5. Keidivh

    Keidivh Noble exile of High Rock

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    @Gidian the Diva
    Just wanted to check with you, is there anything specifically I should include for the testing stage? Or would it just be a standard battle against other initiates and whatever other horror they decide to toss our (guessI should say my) way
     
  6. The Honorable Gidian the Diva

    The Honorable Gidian the Diva Sahrot Vahlok Spaan. Bahnahgaar. Minion #88!

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    The weapons are all blunt practice weapons, though they could still be lethal if applied correctly.
     
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  7. Hlíf 'Ulfr

    Hlíf 'Ulfr Princess Pants

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    Hello all, I heard you had some openings in this Rp and after messaging Gidian and getting the all clear I would like to present you with my CC for voting purposes.

    Edit: The history in this CC is years old and so if a writing sample is required let me know.

    [​IMG]

    Brynn Ráðúlfr
    23 YEAR OLD FEMALE NORD
    5TH OF SUN'S DAWN, THE LOVER


    "She reeked of animal, both in ways and scent, her eyes were the eyes of predators, more than of any man."


    PERSONAL DETAILS:

    Alias:

    Sexuality: Heterosexual

    Marital status: It's complicated

    Occupation: Gold comes easily through contracts as a companion as well as her own choice of jobs. As well as this adventuring does tend to bring in some wealth. In short, she has no trouble finding work nor supporting herself. Rather she takes on what brings her joy and fulfillment.

    Residence: She moves from place to place though she makes it a point to spend time at Jorrvaskr.

    Family: The young Nord woman has been left with nothing but her shield brothers and sister and the shadows of ghosts from her past.

    Affiliations: The huntress is a proud member of the companions and those around her would do well to respect its members. Instilled in her from a young age was the impression of the group as a respectable and proud group of warriors. It is a tie to her father, one of the only ones that remain.

    Note-worthy Personal Relationships:

    Political Views: As a Nord one can imagine she might support the Stormcloaks but for Brynn it goes beyond that. The idea that one group would systematically remove an important part of any people's culture and those that wish to hang on to it is appalling. That being said she does not support Ulfrics racist views and would stand against them at all costs.

    Religion: Believes in The Nine Divines as her father's father before her.

    Affliction/Disease/Ailments: Lycanthropy, PTSD, Night Terrors (come and go with severity of PTSD or triggers)


    PHYSIOLOGY:

    Years of the hunt, of stalking her target have instilled a certain animalistic grace into Brynn. Her eyes, in shades of bright to grey blues, may flicker in an instance from the full intensity of what lay in her heart or mind to a cold, protected, indifference but always contain a certain intelligent feral shine. For all her time spent outside the confines of four walls Brynn’s skin remains fair in colour drawing further attention to the dirty mulberry of her war paint surrounding messily each eye. Her face, framed by long brown hair falling in large, soft, loose waves or curls remains my some miracle void of visible scarring. However, with the perfect combination of the ideal company and enjoyable situation a broad smile breaking across her full lips will cause the barely visible indent of dimples to appear.

    As an active huntress, Brynn remains trim and fit. A slightly high waist and round hips lend a certain swing to her step, giving her a rather distinct walk. Although not easily lost in a marketplace crowd the same cannot be said for a shaded forest.

    Voice: Feminine, Smooth

    [​IMG]

    PERSONALITY:

    Brynn has a kindness of heart and compassion that would make some underestimate her, though there could not be a more unjustified thing. She is quick with a kind word and even quicker with a supportive shoulder and a listening ear. Familiar with traveling about she can easily endear herself to a group, whether it is completely genuine or not can be difficult to decide. She is the type that most confide in and can meet inquiries with surprisingly wise words. She is mature for her age, which most likely contributes to this. She is fiercely loyal and passionate, one could also say she loves love. That being said she is also extremely content to be alone and needs time to herself. That is one side to Brynn. However, there is one thing that makes up all of this, at her core she is her values.

    This makes for a rather interesting character with a most surprising ability to take a complete 180-degree switch. When the she-wolf's values are violated she becomes a fierce defender. Harsh, manipulative, condescending, cunning and snide she will aim to tear those who find themselves against these values down, providing her own style of justice. Nothing is more important to her than this.
    Positive Traits: Loyal, Passionate, Loving, Good Listener, Compassionate, Dedicated

    Negative Traits: Vicious, Condescending, Secretive, Defensive


    Likes:



        • Large fluffy snowflakes that fall like feathers and shine like diamonds
        • The hunt
        • Companionship but also being alone
        • The taste of fresh berries
        • The wilds
        • Birch in the fall and pine trees in the winter
    Dislikes:


        • The clicking of the chaurus
        • The heat
        • Immoral people
        • Attention seeking behavior

    [​IMG]

    COMBAT STATS/ DETAILS:


    COMING SOON
    (TO EDIT THIS WHOLE SECTION)
    Class: Hunter/ Warrior

    Major Skills: Dual wielding Swords (one-handed), Heavy-Mid weight armor, sneak, archery, Tracking & Processing (animals)


    "Minor"/ Secondary Skills: Alchemy, Visual Arts, Lycanthropy abilities, Speech

    Weapons: Brynn carries with her twin swords special made for her hands, by her specification. They are simple but beautiiful in make, the leather on their hilts supple and well worn in. Aside from this the nord also carries a bow, likewise made specially for her. It is mid range in size to accomodate long range accuracy as well as quicker draw rate.

    Gear: When going in to battle Brynn wears a hybrid gear that allows for mobility but also can defend her against the more brutal attacks. When simply hunting she wears a more stealthy leather set of armor.

    For those situations that call for a heavier set of armor Brynn dons a custom set comprised largely of ebony. Layered atop a typical fitted leather bodice is a chestplate that gives the appearance of being ribbed leaving the raised sections to come together in the central line. Beyond her bust the plate is no longer visible hidden under a cloth that falls from around her neck and can also be raised to protect her lower face. The left shoulder guard is not metal at all, and instead is a leather pauldron that attaches under the chestplate. The opposite shoulder armor is much heavier, and is made of a number of metals with an ebony base decorate triangular spikes rise from it in assorted sizes, increasing in such as they near the shoulder. This piece of armor rests atop a black fur that circles around to attach to the opposite side of the chest plate.

    Protecting her arms on the upper side a unique plate design is in place. Like the teeth of some beast sharp spikes rise and turn inwards so that if the woman was to pull these spikes across a target they would rip the skin and even at times catch the flesh on the arm allowing for control. The hands are also protected though the gauntlets are bare of any additions.

    The left hip is covered by a molded hipguard with metal falling beneath it as well, though the right is left bare. Also around her waist a mulberry cloth hangs much like that decorating bone mold armor to fall between her legs. A cape may also be at times attached beneath the pauldrons of the same colour. The legs are also protected by a mixture of the samebeautofulysmithed leather and a black dyed leather with boots to match.



    Inventory: Coming soon


    [​IMG]
    HISTORY:

    “Mama,” The most innocent voice, that of a child questioned from behind huge blue eyes “Where’s Daddy?”

    The question was simple; none could have expected a child of her age to know what had happened when many of the elders had not a single inkling. All she knew in her small child mind was that her father, who had always loved her, had seemed to have disappeared. She could remember even now stories before the blowing out of the candle beside her bed, how he used to twirl her around making her feel as if she could fly, allowing her to be the hero of every story, making her believe that she could do anything, she could remember the warm embrace and his rough shirt against her face when hot tears spilt down her face. She knew then and knew even now that he had loved her but still again to this days she was blind to the events that had torn her away from him.She couldn’t have known how such an innocent question would lead to the stripping of all innocence in her world and illicit such a brutal response.

    Her mother turned to look at her and sneered ripping her dress out of the young girls hands. Her mother had never been what anyone would call a loving woman but something had broken within her that opened the flood gates upon this little girl.

    “Where’s Daddy? Where’s Daddy?” she mocked her brutal tone cutting through the little girls fragile psyche “Am I not good enough for you dearest? Well Daddies not coming back for you he’s gone. Don’t you dare look at me that way, what did you expect. It’s all your fault he left anyway.”

    The little girl looked up at her in shock bringing her hands up to her mouth as her eyes filled and began to overflow with hot tears.
    “Mama!”

    She said throwing herself towards her mother arms widening for a hug but she never quite made it there, her mother’s hand came flying down and across her face was left a throbbing red mark. The girl fell catching herself wither her hands she cried out;
    “Mama!”

    “Get away from me”

    Stumbling back up she watched her mother turn her back to her and walk further back in to the room of which she stood in the door. She stood and cried as any child of her age, between 6 and five would do with one hand near her mouth with a balled fist and the other hanging to her side but she instead cried quietly. She could see her mother begin to walk back towards the door and she stared babbling apologies

    “I’m sorry Mama, sorry” she cried out as she stood in the doorway “I’m… I’m sorry.”

    Although she cried and pleaded as her mother approaches all she had was a hard look across her face then as she came closer she looked down at the girl trying to get her attention and smacked her hard with whatever was in her hand and said:

    “get out of my way. Learn your place girl.”

    Brynn fell to the floor and could feel the blood rushing from her head. She slowly lay down and the last thing she could remember was everything going black.

    She woke up in the “servants quarters” as her mother called them or “The downstairs bedrooms” as her father referred to them, mother had always told her not to go down here so why was she here? She decided to lay still for a while, well as long as a 5 year old would consider a while. She began to reflect on what had happened, she resisted the desire to curl up and sob but wouldn’t shake the feeling that if she couldn’t trust her family who could she trust and if her mother couldn’t lover her who could? She could no longer hold still or hold back the tears and thinking no one was around she began to sob, she sat up with her small feet dangling over the bed and her hands over her eyes with her loose curly golden blond hair hanging over her beet red face. Her sobs grew louder and she began to breathe in short jerks. Over her weeping she could not hear the sound of footsteps quickly approaching.

    “Little one,” crooned the voice as its owner whomever he was sat down next to her drawing her into his arms “Do not cry, you are healed now. All is well sweet girl.”

    Brynn looked up with her red puffy eyes and beheld a young Dunmer man. She wanted to speak but couldn’t stop blubbering, the Dunmer handed her a glass of water. Grasping it with both hands she drank it all and finally managed to stop crying. Handing it back to her she parted her pouty lips slightly looking up at the man then she reached with her little arm and felt her head. She looked confused, there was no bloody clump in her hair and although there was a scar and it continued to ache and she was confused.

    “Don’t touch it,” said the Dunmer kindly as he looked at her with a smile “as I said all is well.”

    Over the years her mother’s fits became a regular occurrence and the Dunmer became her best friend as well as a regular healer. She learned from him that their fathers had been close friends they had grown up together in Windhelm. Her father ignored the racism as he seemed to share many traits with his daughter believing all were equal. It seemed as well from childhood to when they were both grown her father coming from a more privileged family had aided in the Dumner’s father in every way he could. When it happened that her father married her mother and was convinced to move to Hammerfell he agreed to allow his friend’s son, her protector to come along and see more of the world.

    Perhaps it was for this reason that her protector did all he could for Brynn but Brynn believed it was because he had a kind heart. He would always take care of her, watch out for her, and on top of this all he taught her everything he knew. There was no shortage of funds in the house as Brynn had come from a family of privilege but it had become law that she was not to leave the house. The bruises were becoming too hard to explain for her mother she’s clumsy only work for the first while. Thus it became that the Dark Elf was her only friend. This did, however, play in her favor from time to time. Her mother was a social butterfly and liked to show off all her things Brynn being one of them. She would give her reprieve leaving her untouched for a short while to allow all her bruises and cuts to vanish just in time for her friends to arrive. She would dress Brynn in beautiful clothing and spend hours making her look like a perfect porcelain doll. Brynn would sit with her hands clasped on her lap looking down her body present but her spirit, her mind would be safe somewhere far away finding safety in a land of fairytale and make believe. In her mind she was free to be that great warrior her dad had always told her she would be one day, she was a companion. One of the great warriors that her Dunmer protector told her stories about; in her mind she was free. This state, however, safe it was like purgatory. She no longer had to sneak around when her mother was home or hideaway but she knew that soon after the afterglow of the parties and of the old money was gone from her mother’s face she would receive all the pain she had missed those weeks or days before.

    She did, however, being locked away in her home develop skills that perhaps she would not have before. Brynn found that she had a love to pain and draw. She would sit when her mother was away visiting one of her gentleman friends up looking out the highest windows and paint all these things she longed to touch and all these colours she wished to properly see. This was again thanks in all part to her Dark Elf-friend. He somehow managed to procure the paints and hide and as she found out much later keep all the paintings she had come to finish. She had other similar hobbies such as reading. It was lucky then that they had an extensive library and had an endless supply of interesting books. She did, however, crave to be in the outdoors and when her mother went on trips this was her heaven. She was almost exclusively outdoors during these times supervised to a point but allowed to explore. This was when she rediscovered her intense connection with nature. There was no company she liked better than the animals of the forest and would sit still for hours in order to catch if only one glimpse. She would run with an expression of pure bliss barefoot through the forests laughing her haunting bell-like laugh as the air would whip against her face. These were again the best times of her childhood but they could not last and were the most fleeting of her childhood days.

    It went on in this way for years, growing as an animal in a cage not truly knowing the outside world. She had however not grown without knowing love, her and her protector had come to be as brother and sister and the bond became stronger and stronger every day. Looking back on these days she would refer to him as her first shield brother. This did, however, begin to around when Brynn was the age of 11 cause problems. She began to notice her protector acting strangely. He was hiding something from her she could tell as well as he began to grow angrier. As was to be expected seeing someone you love being hurt he had always been hurt himself but he had constantly managed to keep level headed around Brynn for her sake. This new brother scared her at times, he had been the only calm she had known for her childhood she could remember and although she enjoyed change this was unsettling. It could have been due to the fact that Brynn’s situation was getting worse. She was no longer a small doll and her mother no longer found joy in dressing her up this hand in hand with the fact that Brynn looked nothing like her mother distanced Brynn as a daughter in her mother’s eyes even further. She had become as distant as hired help, no good for anything but releasing pent up aggression.

    It was one day that the tension boiled over and things became unfamiliar. She was at her mother’s feet, lying on the ground with her vision starting to blur from the pain. She refused to let a single tear fall from her stone face. For the past few years, it had been the hardened exterior she had taken on if she could see how badly she was hurting her physical she would not let her see how much she was hurting on the inside. To her tears were worth more than blood. She could see her mother starting to walk away. She tried to remember what had brought this on but she could not recall if there had even been an incident to prelude the violence. She could tell her mother was talking but she couldn’t quite hear, she did, however, notice a shape appearing in the shadows. Her mother had turned back around and began walking towards her, a hot iron poker in hand. Brynn’s eyes widened in horror and sat up pushing herself backward. Everything seemed to go slowly after this moment. Her mother started laughing at her horrified face and as she drew nearer she began to swing the poker more and more. Then suddenly she stopped. Her face looked off, to blank for a moment then a dark hand quickly glided around her mother’s waist and reaching out grabbed the poker then disappearing once again. She was so confused, why had her mother just stopped.

    “Wha…”

    She began squinting her eyes then widening them as her mother’s eyes rolled back into her head and she began to fall backward. Quickly the same dark figure caught her in its arms and began carrying her away. Brynn began to stand up and shouted at the figure.

    “WAIT!”

    She now had her wobbly feet beneath her, her head was spinning and her fragile body demanding her to sit back down. Then firming her stance she yelled again;

    “Where are you going with my mother?!”

    It was strange, although she had not a good experience with her mother for years she was not about to let this figure take another parent without explanation. The figure with the shrouded face looked over to her then hiking the mother up in his arms pulled what appeared to be an arrow out of her. He laid her down on the nearest couch then rushed towards the girl. Brynn started yelling for her brother as he approached but he reached her before anyone could have heard her. He covered her mouth with an oddly familiar feeling hand and ripping his face wrappings off he yelled;

    “Brynn! Brynn, little one it is me,” it was indeed her brother “I am sorry to have frightened you.”

    There they stayed for a moment Brynn standing confused and slightly startled while her brother embraced her. She was so confused. Was her mother dead? What would they do now? She was sure not to forget this. Then the Dunmer let the embrace go and with a gleam of excitement and panic in his eyes began to speak.

    “I have no time to explain now, quick little one follow me.”

    He grabbed her realizing it would go faster if he carried her and ran down the many flights of stairs. They came to the rooms in which they both slept, where she had awoken on that first night and all she could think of is how bare the room looked. Where have all our things gone? She wondered her mind swimming. The Dark Elf put her down on her bed and looked her in the eyes and with great intensity gave her these directions

    “I know it is terribly confusing to you now but I’ll need you to, once I leave this room put on those clothing that is on the bed there,” he said point and standing up “Knock when you are done changing. Make haste sweet one.”

    He walked out and closed the door and Brynn did as she was told. She would always trust her brother and she had a feeling whatever was happening was for the best. She hurried and undressed then pulled on the inconspicuous clothing of a traveler. She turned after smoothing everything out. The potions that the Dunmer had given her were taking effect, she was feeling stronger already. She knocked softly and stood back letting her brother come in. she noticed her feet were moving even more silently then what was the norm and was impressed. Then focusing back on her brother whose hand was extended she listened.

    “Come,” he said as she grabbed his extended hand “Follow me, and if we are stopped let me do the talking. That shouldn’t be a problem, at least not for tonight. No one would recognize you anyways. That’s one positive to being caged like a bird.”

    She now knew what was going on, before she had a suspicion but now she knew. She followed both moving as silently as shadows. Leaving the house through the back doors they neared the stables. A horse, a wonderful proud looking black steed she did not recognize stood outside tethered and waiting for them. She could see no bags and looked confused until of course noticing the pack that the Dunmer must have picked up while she was changing. She was lifted up onto the horse and sat poised as Brother lifted himself to sit behind her.

    “Now we ride Brynn,” Brother whispered in her ear “Now you are free song bird.”

    A lovely smile broke across Brynn’s face as the horse began to carry them away, the more distance they covered the broader her smile got. The rest of the journey was just as exciting to her as the first night. Everywhere she looked there was something new. Oh and all the people! During the first night, they had switched from their black steed to a carriage pulled by a much sturdier looking horse. It seemed in the back they had everything they needed to start a new life, wherever it was that Brother was taking them. Along the road, they would run into a few travelers looking to be the same as themselves though obviously not. Due to the limited amount of contact with the outside world, Brynn found everyone and everything absolutely fascinating. She was quite shy at first barely talking or making eye contact but once she was lured out of her shell she would ask as many questions as she could and listen to even the most mundane stories with complete interest.

    It was not long until they crossed the border into Skyrim. It was a beautiful place to Brynn who felt finally as if she was somewhere she belonged.

    “I’m bringing you back to the land of your father,” Said brother to her upon nearing the border “And the place, my dear where you were born.”


    Brynn let the past be behind her leaving any anger or hatred she had in the past asking not to know the fate of her mother. She was ready and happy to accept this new life that Brother had given to her. The two settled in a cabin in the mountain range dividing Falkreath and The Rift. It was a small place but with room plenty enough for the both of them. On the one side was an extensive garden along with a chicken coup, a stable, and an area for the cows and goats to be fenced in. On the other side of the house, there were training dummies to be set as well as targets for practicing archery as well as a shed for pelts as well as a training rack. Within a few months of living in the woods, Brother had begun to teach Brynn how to handle herself in combat. Soon she found herself growing more and more successful with the bow. The two supported themselves off their small menagerie of animals, their garden, but most of their hunting and soon Brynn began bringing in her weight.

    To Brynn however every life she took was important she recognized that they gave their lives for her to live. She appreciated the animals as part of the hunt. Still as before she would spend long periods of time out in the woods attempting to become one with nature, she had particular interest in the quiet foxes and the fearsome wolves. She would as before still sprint through the forest trying to imagine how a deer would feel doing the same enjoying every branched that whipped her face. She loved the fresh air and the feel of dirt beneath her feet. She was meant to be here.

    As time progressed and a year had passed Brynn began training in the usage of weapons and armor. It became apparent that she favored the heavy armor, feeling more secure being encased within it although she had always felt that the lack of manoeuvrability was frustrating. Once she had chosen her armor she moved onto weapons. She began to train in both one handed and two handed but it was by her choice that she found dual wielding. Brother would have much preferred one handed with a sword and shield or perhaps for her to not fight at all but she was determined to fulfill these dreams that unknowingly her father and Brother had instilled within her. Thus as she wished he taught her the prefer techniques and slowly she became more and more skilled. It was a calm life, a satisfying, soul healing life. There was nothing but happiness in those four years but nothing perfect or so happy it seems can ever last.

    It happened during the warmer months, Brynn had been out late. No doubt Brother will be worried but just wait until he sees the hides I’ve got for him now! Brynn though as she moved towards the cabin, it was just becoming night and she knew she should have returned home earlier but she had been trailing deer beginning early that morning. She had a pack full of venison and hides and was sure that she would be forgiven. Brynn had also stopped to gather an armful of flowers on her returning path and would present them as a gift seeking further forgiveness. She had just started breaking rules as out of habit she once followed them to a tee but now that it had started it was not about to stop. With a carefree smile on her face she observed the smoke rising from the cabin and the windows beginning to glow as the light faded. She reached the door and noticing it was slightly ajar pushed it open. Forgetting to close the door, unlike brother she though with an odd expression on her face. Looking down at the ground as she stepped inside and turning to where she assumed he would be seated by the fire she began to recite her apology

    “Brother, I know you must have been ill with worry but I am safe and there is no need to be upset. None at all. I in fact have brought back enough venison to fill our bellies for…”

    Brynn dropped her back and began to unload the meat then noticed the strange silence and looked up. Brother was not in his seat by the fire, not only that but the fire seemed to be dying just lighting s small portion of the room.

    “Brother?” she asked as she stood up grabbing her flowers and began walking towards the area where they slept “Brother I am sorry… Broth-“

    Her words were cut short. Her heart began to race. Her breath coming in short gasps. Time began to slow down for Brynn as the flowers all fell to the floor. She tried to walk forward; she shuffled bringing her hands to her mouth as she had that very first time that she had met her mother’s wrath. She opened her mouth as if to wail but all she could do was shaking. She dropped to her knees once she reached the bed and looked up at the most painful thing she had ever seen. There with an arrow between his eyes was Brothers cold corps. She sat on her knees for what seemed like ages before the silence was broken with a single sob set off a waterfall of tears. She shook violently as she wept; she had never felt so much loss as this moment now. It was a burning, raging, stinging pain that felt as if it were eating away at her soul. It seemed nothing would relive her of this endless darkness that had invaded her heart but finally the morn took pity on her and allowed the sobbing girl to finally escape into sleep.

    It was days before she emerged from that cabin and she emerge not the same person as had entered. Though now as she stood looking down at him in his makeshift coffin it could not be more apparent. Her face was hardened and serious. It was as if she had turned to stone.

    “Brother”

    She called out softly to him wishing for nothing more than for him to rise up and take her hand. He did not. He could not she told herself as she looked down with lost eyes at the Dunmer. His dark grey skin seemed to be stretched tighter across his angular face with his prominent cheek bones jutting out. It made her almost choke again looking down at his lips, they were without the smile that she had loved and it made him look almost alien. She kneeled beside the coffin and adjusted his black hair that fell like wisps around his peaceful face. Who would have wanted you dead brother? If only you could speak to me now… how would the dark brotherhood find us. Why would they leave behind the contract? She mental shook herself and bit her lip then sighing heavily she began to croon her voice choking

    “all is well,” she began to him as he had said to her those many years ago when her tiny feet dangled off of the side of the bed “Can’t you hear me? All is well.”

    These were the last words she spoke for months. The first year without Brother was the hardest but it aloud her in solitude to figure out whom she was. She spent it honing her abilities, hunting, trying to support herself and save enough coin for the adventure ahead. By the time this year had past she had a full set of armor and upon selling all the farm animals she was able to buy herself a horse. This was the beginnings of her true adventure. Brynn spent the first year proving herself as a mercenary worthy for hire and soon found many jobs available. Then once this became boring she set out to explore on her own. She favoured the ancient crypts or ruins as they posed the most challenge as well as the most interesting artifacts and architectural beauty.


    It then became a favorite past time of hers to hunt down bandits. The joy that would make her spirits soar as the bandits called out to her mocking the girl that stood before them. So unsuspecting she would think as she turned to them a huge grin upon her face. Brynn would then turn drawing her swords and begin the massacre. The thrill of besting an opponent and by the same coin riding Skyrim of another threat filled her spirits with glee. She felt as if she was performing perhaps in a silver dance as she slashed and spun about in battle. She became stronger as the years went by and the intricate dance of the swords became more and more beautiful.

    Most of this time was spent in relative solidarity, at first a blessing soon began to devolve into a hindrance. The problem, by chance, would soon begin to solve itself. As Brynn’s mind began to lean to the idea of returning to civilization in hopes of finding company companionship found her.

    It had been nothing if not chance that had found her slowly and painfully plodding down the road. Her face slightly contorted in pain with every rise and fall of her lithe body atop the black steed as she headed for town. She could not help but roll her eyes at the memory of how she had received her bloodied leg and arm as well as her cracked rib. It had been nothing but a fluke, she had made a small mistake and had come out of it broken, bruised and bloodied. She had been on no grand journey and so had not equipped herself for these types of wounds, again foolishness on her own part.


    Approaching a turn in her path the cries of war reached the ears of the huntress. The Nord straightened in the saddle as her horse nickered nervously. Stopping for a moment Brynn hesitated. She was well aware of her impaired abilities and her limitation but after a short time of contemplation curiosity and a sense of duty overtook her. With a clicking of her tongue and a gentle touch of her heel to the side of her horse, she began to move forward.

    (I chose not to edit this as it is the original history written for the character.)

    TO BE CONTINUED...
     
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    #1907 Hlíf 'Ulfr, Mar 1, 2017
    Last edited: Mar 1, 2017
  8. Keidivh

    Keidivh Noble exile of High Rock

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    @Hlíf 'Ulfr
    Awesome CC friend, glad to have you on board with us, I'm looking forward to seeing Brynn in action!

    Not sure if you wanted her to be thrown into initiation with Rolard, or put in her own place for intro, but she can be if that works for you and Gidian
     
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  9. The Honorable Gidian the Diva

    The Honorable Gidian the Diva Sahrot Vahlok Spaan. Bahnahgaar. Minion #88!

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  10. Daryl Dixon

    Daryl Dixon Well-Known Member

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    Seems good.


    Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
     
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  11. fellowknight

    fellowknight "I am the danger! I am the one who knocks!"

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    Welcome to the carnage (er, funage), I say!

    Sent from my LG-K450 using Tapatalk
     
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  12. The Honorable Gidian the Diva

    The Honorable Gidian the Diva Sahrot Vahlok Spaan. Bahnahgaar. Minion #88!

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    @Hlíf 'Ulfr You're in. Just find an opportunity to introduce your character into the mix.
     
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  13. Hlíf 'Ulfr

    Hlíf 'Ulfr Princess Pants

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    Wonderful! I can't wait to jump in, though now that I have been accepted I'll have to clear up my plan. After that I'll get right to posting. Also, thank you all for voting me in.
     
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  14. The Honorable Gidian the Diva

    The Honorable Gidian the Diva Sahrot Vahlok Spaan. Bahnahgaar. Minion #88!

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    Don't feel forced into rushing into an intro plan just yet. The main cast is currently not in a position for you to link up with them, but they should be after our next post. How you enter and stuff is up to you as long as it's reasonable, and if you have any questions or want any help then feel free to collaborate.
     
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  15. Archer Drake

    Archer Drake Parkour Enthusiast

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    A couple of things:

    1.) I apologize for not posting. To be blatantly honest with all of you, I had to stop checking in regularly when my parents lost their home.

    However, that situation has - finally - been sorted. On top of that, I had another 40-day detour that took me completely awa from any ability to post here. I do not wish to go into greater detail than that, if you please.

    In short, I apologize for my disappearance, and I would greatly appreciate it if I was allowed to return.

    2.) I will be checking in daily as I have done in the past, and if - perchance - I need to step away for a time, I will give all of you ample warning and prepare posts ahead of time.

    Also, I am sorry to hear about Melee, I was looking forward to getting to work with her.

    Regardless, welcome back Keidivh, and welcome Hlif-Ulfr (I apologize if I butchered the spelling.)
     
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  16. The Honorable Gidian the Diva

    The Honorable Gidian the Diva Sahrot Vahlok Spaan. Bahnahgaar. Minion #88!

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    Wb my dude. Fellowknight will handle duct taping your arms and legs while I get the gag.
     
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  17. Archer Drake

    Archer Drake Parkour Enthusiast

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    I suppose that is a well-deserved treatment, after my...well, my utter lack of activity.
     
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  18. fellowknight

    fellowknight "I am the danger! I am the one who knocks!"

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    *AHEM* if you'll just go limp and maybe smile, that'd be great

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  19. The Honorable Gidian the Diva

    The Honorable Gidian the Diva Sahrot Vahlok Spaan. Bahnahgaar. Minion #88!

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    That's the spirit! :D

    Daryl will be stripping you and I'll be frisking you ;)
     
  20. Archer Drake

    Archer Drake Parkour Enthusiast

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    I am terribly sorry, everyone.
     

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