18+ What Lies Beneath OOC

[Kir the Silent]

The Dwemer have always been a fascinating and mysterious race. Their legacy lasting long after their disappearance, dotting the entire continent of Tamriel. These ruins of ancient fortresses and cities attract people from all walks of life; bandits wanting a shelter and hideout, scholars researching for personal knowledge or the books they write, and adventurers searching for fame and fortune. Their cities go deep underground and who knows what one may find when exploring the depths of the earth? But...what if there was something else down there? Down in the deep dark? Something even more ancient than the dwemer and never before seen by the eyes of men or mer? A wealthy patron has recently discovered something down in the earth. Something down far deeper than any other person has dared to ventured.

An ancient tome found in the depths of one of the deepest Dwemer city on record tells of an expedition. An expedition that tells of a gleaming, white doorway secreted away for ages. Shining like a beacon in a dismal place known as the Everdark. This ancient doorway was a mystery to even the Dwemer, a puzzle that they could never solve. What treasures, or horrors, lie just beyond this marvel? The one who discovered the tome has kept this secret, while cleverly and subtly seeking out a group of brave souls; scholars, warriors, rogues, and the like. Any who would be courageous, or foolish, enough to brave...what lies beneath...

Mystery, intrigue, action, horror, and a dark secret that makes the gods cringe in fear. All this and so much more awaits just beyond this alluring gate; like a rose it is beautiful to look at, but hides thorns. Who, or what, built it and what lies beyond? I left the the description and goals of this roleplay vague on purpose, as I won't be revealing too much of the plot. This is something for our characters to discover on their own.

Cast
Kir the Silent as: Kir Naylik/The Heart-Eater
White_Memories as: Elanin
Delusional as: Marcus Paxillus
Sun&Moon as: Alidore Viralaine
Valin Oakthorn as: Valin Oakthorn
Tiaz Raydari as: Che'anni Musgrav'n
Gentleman Adventurer as: Eldric

PLEASE READ ALL TEXT BELOW

This is roleplay is going to be my most ambitious one yet. It will be extremely in-depth and have deeper meaning than many roleplays. It will focus on extensive character development, mystery, and why there is a reason people should fear the dark unknown. If accepted into this roleplay your character, you, will face trials that could destroy them; whether emotionally, mentally, or physically. Not every battle you will face can be won by blade or bow. This roleplay will have action/adventure, but have strong undertones of personal growth and character evolution.

I will be very particular at who is accepted into this roleplay. I will be looking for roleplayers with good grammar, the ability to post regularly, and the level of skill expected of any roleplayer. I apologize if I seem high and mighty, but I have high hopes for this roleplay. I also apologize in advance if your application is not accepted. It is in no way a reflection of personal bias or a reflection of your skill as a roleplayer, so do not feel dejected or saddened. There are limited spots. To apply for this advanced roleplay, please follow the rules below.

Rules and Other Info

Please read everything below carefully before applying.

1. All general forum, and role play rules apply. Please keep that in mind.

2. Power playing (or, "god modding") will not be tolerated. Give your character reasonable abilities and skills. Do not make them knowledgeable of information they cannot possibly know. A realistic character with believable flaws is much more likable and interesting.

3. Please try to remain active in the thread. Post regularly, at the very least once every other day. If you need to leave for any amount of time, please be sure to let me know. DO NOT apply if you cannot commit or think you will drop out at a later date. There are enough half-finished and abandoned roleplays out there, I don't plan on adding anymore.

4. Be fair to your fellow role players. Try to make sure all participants are included.

5. Please keep all posts consistent with the content and lore of The Elder Scrolls.

6. This is a MATURE thread, rated 18+. Profanity, violence, disturbing images, and sexual themes will be included, so please be advised.

7. So long as any profanity or sexual themes are included both tastefully, reasonably and at the best of discretion they will be accepted.

8. Please try to use proper spelling, grammar, and sentence structure. Type your posts in a word processor for proof reading if it will help. This makes posts easier and better to read. I will be expecting this of all players, so please keep that in mind when applying.

9. I would prefer that players in this story be only involved in 2 or 3 other roleplays simultaneously. Simply for the fact that posts are generally of better quality when there are fewer obligations for the player.

10. Player involvement will be capped at a maximum of 7 players, including myself. However players may be invited to create and include their own minor, recurring "NPC" if they so choose. This would be a character of the player's choosing meant to enrich their own experience and the experience of the other players. For example, someone such as a relative or friend of your character. Please understand this doesn’t mean you can have two characters. This “NPC” would not be present at all times, normally disappearing after the beginning few posts. However they can be reintroduced if it ties into the story and makes logical sense. Of course other npcs, such as a generic guard or barkeep, are perfectly acceptable if the situation requires creation of one.

Application

Name:

Age:

Sex:

Race: [Within the constraints of the Elder Scrolls.]

Occupation: [Include the occupation or “class” your character can be associated with.]

Birthplace:

Current Residence:

Alliances or Affiliations: [Realistically, ie: They cannot be the Harbinger or a Guild master.]

Appearance: [Include a photo or screen shot if you like, but please include at least 3-5 sentences detailing your character's appearance.]

Personality: [Include at least a paragraph detailing your character's personality. Likes and dislikes, skills and weaknesses, etc.]

History: [Include as absolutely much as possible about your character's history. Who he/she is as a person, how they came to be who and where they are, and why. As well as giving a reasonable explanation why they are in the Rift or interested in the recent mysterious events.]

Roleplaying Sample: [Include here 5 - 10 sentences that display your roleplaying style for me, so I 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.]

Character Applications may be approved by Kir the Silent.

 

[White_Memories]

This idea seems highly interesting. I doubt my current character could hold up. Give me a few and I'll have a character created just for this. I'll just edit the CC into this post.

Application

Name: Elanin

Age: 100

Sex: Female

Race: Altmer

Occupation: Mage

Birthplace: Skywatch, Summerset Isle

Current Residence: Falkreath

Alliances or Affiliations: Affiliated with the College of Winterhold

Appearance: The thing that stands out most about her are the milk white eyes, giving the impression she cannot see at all or is a Seer. In fact, she can see just fine but it was some sort of magic defect caused by her father. Bronze hair, golden skin, and a a wider mouth with thin lips. She stands a six foot three and weighs about 146 pounds, Most often, you will only find her to be wearing a set of pale beige and dark brown robes.

Personality: Elanin is proud, extremely so, but doesn't allow that to get in the way of the one thing she truly enjoys. Out-going, always has her nose in a book, and the kind of mer that would sooner eat her own tongue than admit she could ever be wrong. She likes to read, make potions, go for a ride, and traverse the land of Skyrim to prove that she can. Her dislikes are a bit more extensive: ranging from chaurus to rudeness, and she especially finds the Nords distrust of magic to be ridiculous.

History: Elanin was born in the Summerset Isle, to a pair of prudish parents that were pushing her towards joining the Thalmor and gaining high rank with her skills she was developing. Rather than listen to her own family, and her races views on mer, she instead left home in the dead of night and fled to High Rock. She trained there for some time, finding that the Bretons were civil enough so long as she proved to be unwilling to call the entire Aldmeri Dominion on their heads. It was there that she gained a firm grasp of not only destruction magic but also conjuration and restoration - destruction remains her preferred school of magic as her skills lie there.

Once she grew out of the Breton teachings she made her way to Cyrodiil, where she found that tension was rising among freelance mages, and she mostly kept to herself. While she was in the Imperial Province she spent vast amounts of coin and time traveling and gathering books on magic and philosophy. Shortly before she decided to move on once more she set the cabin she'd been living in on fire, burning it and all of her notes and books inside. Once the sky had lit with flames she was once more fleeing to a new place for knowledge, now at 76 years old.

Her journey took her to Skyrim, where she was in turn pointed towards Winterhold and the college. Upon entering the college grounds, after passing the gatekeeper, she was filled with a sense of belonging. None of them judged her because she was an Altmer, and her achievements were given notice. The entirety of the college was thoroughly explored and she spent countless nights holed up in the Arcanium with books all around. However, as with all previous places, she left the college in the dead of night near fifteen years later with only a letter explaining what she was doing.

This time she did not leave the province, there was no reason for her to do so, and instead she travelled to the many holds and spoke with the court wizard about magic and spells. Sometimes she aided the Jarl in ridding some bandits but mostly she sought knowledge. Her seemingly aimless wanderings took her from Winterhold to Dawnstar, from there to Morthal and then Markarth. When she arrived at Falkreath there was something about the city that caused her to settle, building a shack to live in not far from the city.

Not even settling in a place she liked could cool her need for adventure and soon she was on her way once more, leaving a hound to watch her home. Slowly, she began making her way over the rest of Skyrim - from Whiterun to Windhelm and finally Riften. Perhaps it was coincidence, maybe fate, but she heard tales of something found that could be an interesting adventure. Without once stopping to think, Elanin set her mind to being one of those that would see what was down there.

Roleplaying Sample: Elanin scarcely paid attention to the ramblings of the people around her, each step made with purpose and determination. Her sights were set on the highest point of Whiterun, Dragonsreach, and she would allow nothing to distract her from her goal. Not the people in her way, the running children, or the merchants attempting to gain her coin.

Steps were taken two at a time, her soft leather boots making hardly any sound after being worn so much. Idly, she imagined it might soon be time to perhaps buy a new pair before her thoughts once more focused on reaching the top of the hill.

Once at the large wooden doors she exhibited a measure of strength when she threw on of the sides open and barged in as if she had every right. Confusion was evident on several faces as her eerie, milky eyes landed on each of them in turn until she found whomever she sought. A handful of confident steps and Elanin was staring down at a male cloaked in dark robes.

"You're the court wizard?" her oddly soft voice inquired, a brow quirking. "The one I was told is called.... Farengar?"

 

[Kir the Silent]

I like your new character and I'm always willing to give relatively new rper's a chance to prove themselves. Your character is approved. I look forward to roleplaying with you. Also I neglected to post my cc so I will do that now lol

 

[Kir the Silent]

Name: Kir Naylik aka Kir the Silent

Age: 23

Sex: Male

Race: Wood Elf, Bosmer

Occupation: Formerly an Infamous Independent Assassin known as "The Silent," Currently a simple Wanderer

Birthplace: Valenwood

Current Residence: None, a wanderer

Alliances or Affiliations: Connected to an information network through the Thieves Guild.

Appearance: Dawn-golden hair, black wood elf eyes, black tattoo around right eye(wood elven symbol), 5'7, 155 pounds, thin and athletic, slightly muscular, many tally marks tattoos on his right arm(represents kills)

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'kai Rum. He hates ignorance and is saddened by the foolishness of his kinsmen, blinded by the Thalmor’s lies back in his homeland. 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.

Background:
Kir's is a sad story. His family was minor nobility in Valenwood, though his mother a commoner. Faeloen Naylik didn't care about that, he loved her. And like a fable of old the common girl Eliya found her prince. Years later Kir was conceived. His birth, however, was long and grueling. He was born healthy and strong. Unfortunantly his mother died during the process. It was then that his father decided to leave Valenwood behind; as well as the memories. He had an older brother and two older sisters, Treon Naylik(oldest), Nihls Naylik, and Relas Naylik(twins). After looking at several potential lands, his father decided on the Falkreath region of Skyrim. It was wooded and there was a keep for sale outside of the the city. While he and his siblings settled in, his father seemed to rush something golden to the vault. He returned a few moments later closing the gates and even added more defenses to the area. In the years that would follow Kir wondered what was secreted down there...

Settling in the keep was simple after making sure all documents had been approved and sealed by the Jarl. However, it took a few years for the Nords to accept their Bosmer neighbors. But when Kir turned seven years, his father would win the hearts of the locals. A fearful scream shattered the forest one day. A young Nord girl was being chased by bandits a few hundred feet away from the keep. Without a second thought Kir's father rushed to her aid. He ran faster than he ever had before. Suddenly the bandits were under attack. One fell to a fireball and the other two drew blades to attack this impudent little elf. With ease Faeloen slew the other two, his elven blade Ancient's Wrath swinging in deadly arcs. He picked the crying girl up and took her safely to the keep. There she was given new clothes and fed, before returning to Falkreath. Her parents were overjoyed, the people cheered. The Jarl awarded him with the title Thane and the gratitude of Falkreath.

Things were perfect for a time, until the Stranger came...One day a young Breton approached the keep. When asked by the Falkreath guards as to his business here. He asked to speak with Thane Faeloen. When he introduced himself, he claimed to be a Dwemer scholar. Kir's father and the scholar talked for several hours alone in the study. Soon however it became arguing and the Breton left in an air of indignity. When Kir asked what he had wanted, his father simply said, "All will be revealed when you come of age." A few months later an Imperial merchant came with gifts of gold and jewels, but he left just like the scholar. As the months past, more and more visitors visited the keep. A Nord noble, a Dark Elf adventurer, and even a High Elf Lord(he was suspected of being an Aldmeri agent). They all left without whatever they had come seeking. Then there was even an attempt to break into the vaults. The thief was injured, but escaped. Kir's interest only grew. What was in the vault?? Then when he turned nine, he wished he never knew...

On a bleak, unnaturally dark night. He came...A figure swaddled in black, ragged cloth and hooded robes with strange runes. He approached the keep slowly. The guards were automatically on edge. The gatekeeper approached to ask his business on such a night, but before he could say a word he was dead. Suddenly the keep's door exploded while Kir and his family were having supper. His father and older brother rushed to stand in front of and confront him. "Who the hell are you and what do you want?!" The mysterious figure spoke in a voice straight from Oblivion. Deep and demonic, yet as unnerving as a dark whisper..."You know." He came closer slowly. "Give me it, now. Perhaps you'll live if you obey." Kir's father set his jaw and eyes turn to steel. He said, "I have no idea what your talking about." The dark figure, laughed. At least Kir hoped it was. It ran chills down his spine. "I've tried other methods, now I have no other option but you have forced me to reveal my hand." Kir could feel the Stranger's evil smile. In front of their very eyes he changed into the Breton scholar! Then he gradually changed into every visitor they had seen over the last year!

"I'll give you one last chance." He walked closer, "Give. Me. The Book!" Kir's father and brother drew blades. "You'll never have it...our family has guarded that profane tool for generations. Guards! To me!" The Stranger laughed again. "The dead can't hear you." Kir's father turned pale, but his sword was steady. "What are you..?" The Stranger raised his hands, black muscular things ending in claws, "Find out..." Suddenly nightmarish creatures appeared and chaos reigned. "Children! Run!" shouted his father as they attacked the unholy creatures. Kir didn't know what to do. He felt torn, so...he ran...he ran and ran, out the door. Past fires and dark shapes. Suddenly..he was alone in the forest. He wandered for hours, fearful and alone...until a limb snapping stopped him cold. But before he could hide a hand was around his mouth, "Quiet boy, they may still be around." Kir managed to get a look at the owner of the hand. He nearly wept. It was Daran, the twenty-two year old Redguard cook. "We have to leave...come on."

The traveled all night without rest to Helgen. There, Daran bought a longsword and they hired a carriage. "To the border of Hammerfell, no questions and you won't remember us." He handed the driver a coin purse with five thousand gold inside. "I have no idea what you mean," said the driver taking the coin. "I'm just going to Hammerfell to see a few friends. No passengers." Daran nodded as the driver urged the horses along. Daran then turned to Kir, and softly said, "Cry for them Kir...it helps. I know." And so he did...for his dad, his bother, his sisters...his life...

For five years they lived in Hammerfell, and in that time Daran married and raised Kir as his own. Kir had planned to return to Falkreath, but rumors of civil war and Dragons stayed the young elf's feet. However, when he turned fourteen he decided to travel. It took convincing, but Daran and Sarli agreed. He wanted to find...something, himself maybe. They gave him supplies, gold, and a tearful farewell. He joined a merchant ship to see the world until he was old enough to travel on his own. The ship avoided Skyrim altogether during this time. Three years passed and Kir grew, stronger and wiser than his age. He was a skilled swordsman, pickpocket, and very stealthy. He wrote Daran and Sarli everytime he was ashore. But the fires of revenge still burned within him. And fate would stroke the flames.

One evening on the ship he awoke to silence. He knew instantly something wasn't right. He grabbed his simple iron sword and silently moved onto the deck. Eyes searching every inch of the area. He was drawn to the Captain's Cabin, where he silently entered and saw captain's throat being cut by a man in red and black leather armor. As the assassin turned to leave, Kir's sword entered his heart. Kir looked in his eyes as he died and felt numb. His first kill...the crew awoke to find Kir still standing over the assassin's body, un-moving. "Wow...you snuck up on and killed a Dark Brotherhood assassin." Dark Brotherhood. Kir knew then he had to leave. They tried to convince him to stay and they would protect him, however even they knew the words rang hollow. The captain's still-warm body a testament to this. His time with them was done. When they docked in the Imperial City he disembarked and they wished him well. He never felt more alone...it was as if he lost his family all over again.

The very next night an assassin tried to poison his food. It was a keen sense of smell that saved him, he had detected an odd fragrance and elected to skip that meal. The next week he awoke to find the inn burning. Many innocents had died and Kir was furious. He decided to lay a trap for the assassin. He hid in a closet while a eggify of himself lay covered in a bed. The assassin appeared and thankfully "killed" the dummy with a bow. Kir tracked him all the way the way to the Dark Brotherhood's impromptu Sanctuary in Leyawiin. It appeared they were trying to get back on their feet in Cyrodiil, but the five assassins housed there were nothing more than amateurs with slightly above average skill. Still they were not to be underestimated, especially the vampiric leader. Utilizing all his skill, he snuck in and killed everyone in the sanctuary. Three died from poison apples, two from his blade, and the last(a vampire) was foolish enough to fight him in the open. Slightly injured and incredibly tired, he stumbled to the local tavern. There he rented a room, drank a healing potion, and passed out.

The next day, the Leyawiin guard discovered the corpses and the sanctuary. Rumors circled about a new assassin, known as "The Silent." Because all this fighting and assassinations had happened in complete silence, the night guards had heard nothing at all even though they had passed close to the site of Kir's duel with the vampire. And so it was a seventeen year old Kir, became the infamous assassin known as "The Silent." This year also marked the end of the civil war in Skyrim and re-extinction of the dragons.

Two years passed quickly, the Dark Brotherhood had given up trying to kill him or the other sanctuaries had no idea what had really happened. In this time he traveled all across Tamriel, having many adventures and fulfilling many contracts. His favorite contract being to assassinate a wizard that had been known to turn people into sweetrolls and eat them! It was after this job he was drawn to Falkreath, his old home. He arrived at the keep a month after his last contract. Cracked Tusk Keep was a ruin now...he sighed and decided to face his fears and past. He entered the once great keep. The towers and walls broken, orcish palisade walls and huts abandoned, the keep itself empty, and the orcs who had lived here looked to be long gone. Then, taking a breath, he went to the vaults. He feared as to what he might find. The gates had been blown open with fell magika and all traps disarmed. Kir was surprised to see two destroyed dwarven spheres that had apparently been guarding the main vault. He wondered where his father had gotten such marvels.He walked slowly into the chamber and...several skeletons were in front of the pedestal.

One clutched an elven sword in one hand. "Father..." Kir fell to his knees and wept for his family again. He picked up Ancient's Wrath, it should be with him. A small bit of his past, but then something caught his eye. It looked to be an old parchment hidden in his father's closed hand. Kir respectfully opened the skeletal hand. The folded note read, " Dear Kir, I pray you survived and escaped. If your reading this...we have all passed on. Do not despair, we are with your mother now in a better place. He's coming back now..I love you son. So do your siblings. The Book, the one we died for, isn't here though. Find it before him...Look to the past. Lovingly, Faeloen Naylik. Treon Naylik(Brother), Nihls Naylik, and Relas Naylik(Sisters)."

"I swear, I will find this man and I will avenge you all." He knew he couldn't do it alone. He ran to Falkreath and found a courier to deliver a message to Daran and Sarli in Hammerfell. He then went to the Jarl and managed to convince him of his birthright. "I will grant you the keep and the lands, but the title Thane is mainly honorary and I cannot spare any guards. Is this acceptable?" Kir had little choice and thus accepted. Within a month Daran and Sarli had arrived. Even with graying hair, Daran was a strong and willful man. His wife had even contacted some builders she knew. "We support you completely," she said smiling. Then slapped him, "That's for not coming to visit more often." They all laughed together, a family again. "We have a lot of work ahead," Daran grunted.

And he was correct, it was hard and grueling. But in two short years the keep was restored to its full glory. All the while, Kir learned everything he could about what book the note could have meant and the Dark Stranger. Although most of what he knew was simply legend and rumor. He also had searched high and low for the Stranger. He had contacted the Thieves Guild and bounty hunters. But he was still getting nowhere, no one knew anything.

One day he visited his family's crypt to meditate and show his respects. When suddenly his father's words came to him, "Look to the past." He stood and went to his mother's section of the crypt. She was the only one he hadn't buried, "Could it really be that simple?" He apologized to the gods one and all, before slowly opened the casket. There he saw...nothing...His heart fell, but then he noticed a book. It was partially concealed under her arm. It looked ancient and Kir noticed a note attached to the front. In a strange style of writing that did not resemble his fathers it read, "It's up to you now, but first you must find the others. You cannot do it alone. May all the gods be with you." Kir read the book and with grim determination, knew what he had to do...so it begins...

 

[White_Memories]

Can I just say..... wow.

This is going to be my favorite rp when it starts, I can already tell.

 

[Sun&Moon]

Name: Alidore Viralaine

Age: 28

Sex: Male

Race: Breton

Occupation: Thief/Mage

Birthplace: Camlorn, High Rock

Current Residence: Wandering the Rift

Alliances of Affiliations: Affiliated with the Thieves Guild, allied with travelling Kahjiit caravans

Appearance: Alidore stands only 5'9", short, even by his own races standards. He is pale white and completely bald. He has permanent dark bags beneath his eyes due to lack of sleep. He has gold piercings in his ears and his nose (Three in each ear, and one gold loop on his left nostril). He wears light leather pants, with tall black leather boots, and a light weight black leather cuirass.

Personality: Alidore is a very calm person, he is able to stay cool and collected in even the most sticky situations. He is a fairly quiet person, and normally stays silent in groups unless he knows everyone there. He is a very observant person, and he often seems to have a knack for seeing the unseen. He enjoys the simple things in life, the night air, a good walk, the rush of casting a destruction spell, stealing, and of course using skooma. He does not really dislike much but some of the things that he does are the Divines, other Bretons, obnoxious people, cold weather, and bad skooma. As a breton he is naturally skilled in magic, especially Destruction, Illusion, and Conjuration. He also has very honed stealth skills, and a pretty good sword arm.

History: Alidore was born in Camlorn High Rock to a wealthy family of merchants. He grew up in luxury, being treated like a prince by his parents, and the countless servants that bent to his will. One time when he was 15 years old, he accompanied his father on a trip to the Imperial City. As he wandered aimlessly around the Market District something strange caught his eye. A group of cat people had set up a makeshift stall. After looking over all the exotic items that they had for sale, he knew that he wanted to go with them. When night came he sneaked out of his room in the Inn and stowed away with the group of Khajiits as they made there way back to there home country of Elsweyr.

Once he got to Elsweyr he spent three years trying to gain acceptance from the local Khajiits by doing odd jobs, and working as a servant for them. But finally after after three years the Khajiits grew to look at him as one of there own. He spent most of his days holed up in the local skooma dens, trying to sell his product, or using some himself. After some time Alidore became a fairly large part of the Elsweyr skooma trade, and he was living in luxury once again. But after some bad deals gave him a bad name he was a wanted man. He fled north into Cyrodil to escape his certain death, but his contacts in Elsweyr informed him that he was not safe even in Cyrodil. So he fled even further north into Skyrim.

Once in Skyrim he made his way to the city of Riften, there he quickly got in good with the thieves guild by doing occasional contracts for them. His life had settled down quite a bit since he entered Skyrim. Doing minor contracts for the thieves guild, and occasionally selling skooma on the side. He vowed to get enough money to return to Elsweyr and pay off his debts, so he saved almost every septim he earned in Skyrim.

Roleplaying Sample: Alidore stopped to catch his breathe, the cool mountain air was harsh on his lungs. He had been travelling for days since he left Bruma and he finally crossed the Cyrodil - Skyrim border. He looked around and could see for miles, he was glad it was a clear day. Nestled below the mountains was a decent sized city next to a lake. There, that was where he would go. He pulled out the little map of Skyrim that he had bought in Bruma. He could barely make out the words scrawled on the map. Hmmm.... I guess that must be Riften. Alidore was excited, for the first time since he had left Elsweyr did he have a real plan.


Alidore sighed, his hand dipped into his pocket and he fiddled with the cap of the warm bottle. He wanted to so badly, but it was a constant reminder of the paradise he had to leave behind. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and looked up. Down the mountain he looked at Riften. He looked at his future. Alidore sighed again and started his steep climb down the mountain.

 

[Delusional]

Name: Marcus Paxillus

Age: 27

Sex: Male

Race: Imperial

Occupation: Adventurer / Treasure Hunter / Explorer

Place of Birth: Cheydinhal, Cyrodiil

Current Residence: Riften, Skyrim

Alliances or Affiliations: None, other than minor affiliations with Khajiiti caravans

Appearance: Marcus stands at an around average height of 6'1", with a slim figure and a mildly toned body. He weighs approximately 165 lbs. His hair is a midnight black, and falls down to just below his ears in a messy, unkept tangle. He has a thin goatee, also midnight black, that frames his mouth. His eyes are a piercing golden-brown, and a long, ugly scar runs from the left side of his face down to below his jawline, which he received from a particularly nasty draugr in a Nordic barrow.

Personality: Marcus can easily be described in a simple statement - "life of the party". He finds making new acquaintances easy (yes, including the women, if you know what I mean), and enjoys the company of others rather than solitude. One of his favorite past-times is, as one could assume, getting drunk at the local tavern with his buddies. However, most of this cheerful, rowdy personality vanished when Marcus made the realization that his father was likely dead. His former self, full of life and vigor, was replaced with what he once hated - solitude, depression and solemnness. Occasionally, Marcus will find his old happiness return to him, but more often than not is it soon substituted with sorrow.

Marcus has a strong will, but his emotions are what ultimately controls him. This is one of Marcus' most colossal and dangerous weaknesses. His feelings directly influence, if not control, his actions, which is why he suddenly set out to explore Skyrim - a decision considered to be bold by many, but a decision made split-second by Marcus. However, Marcus' skill in battle with a bow and a shortsword tend to balance out his emotional instability, as he can usually make it out of a bad position his emotions placed him in.

History: Born just outside the Cyrodilic town of Cheydinhal, Marcus grew up not knowing very many people aside from his parents, Darius Paxillus, a Dwemer scholar, and Lucia Valerus. However, this separation from most residents of Cheydinhal due to his family living outside the city limits did not prevent or suppress his yearning for social interaction. He would regularly sneak out of the cabin and into Cheydinhal, where he would run around with the children there, and become friends with the shopkeepers.

Marcus' life outside Cheydinhal didn't last very long, however. Lucia, Marcus' mother, mysteriously and suddenly disappeared. Not very long after, later that day, Darius packed up the family's belongings and put the house to the torch as they rode off down the rough path, headed to gods know where as Marcus watched his childhood home burn to the ground until it was just embers and ashes, soon to be blown away with the wind.

Darius took the young Imperial across the northern border of Cyrodiil into Skyrim, where he found an abandoned shack up in the mountains that towered above the Rift and its autumn woods. It was here that Marcus fullyy realized the extent of his father's work as a scholar of the enigmatic race called the "Dwemer". Darius pored over tomes and scrolls for hours upon hours in the small shanty while Marcus amused himself by practicing his archery with his mother's old hunting bow and a makeshift target of leaves and branches.

Darius made regular supply runs into Riften, the capital city of the Rift, but never allowed Marcus to accompany him, most likely for fear of losing his dutiful son to the bustling town. Eventually, however, Darius' research consumed him to the point where he began sending Marcus down to fetch the supplies, as he could not tear himself from his work.

Marcus was 17 at the time, and as one could guess, Riften was damn near close to heaven for him. He soon began turning supply runs into weekends of fun in Riften, but his father never minded enough to come down to fetch him. Before he turned 18, Marcus had bedded half a dozen young Nord women, gotten drunk at the Bee and Barb close to two dozen times, and passed out from the alcohol intake half a dozen times. He was living the life he always dreamed of - surrounded by friends and attractive women, with a lot of alcohol.

It didn't take very long before Marcus permanently moved into Riften. However, around the same time, Darius began his excursions. He would disappear from the mountainside cabin for days, sometimes weeks before returning, arms full and satchels brimming with strange brass components and gears - Dwemer machinery. Marcus made his regular visits up to the shack to supply his father with food and the like, and always found him at his desk, studying some brass gear, or a cog, what looked to Marcus like a hunk of metal, or sometimes, even a golden brass sword or axe, one of which he gifted to his son. The items always puzzled the Imperial, but he never asked any questions of the research.

Marcus lived in Riften for quite the long time, where he worked as a fisherman, and always made sure to spend his earnings drinking the night away and bedding plenty of women. However, Marcus began to realize that his father had been absent from the cabin in which he had lived in, and all of the tomes and artifacts were gone along with Darius. This began to worry Marcus, to the point where he made the final realization of the possibility of his father's demise, most likely in one of the ruins that he had visited so often.

The Imperial, now age 25, fell into a deep depression. His emotions suddenly reversed themselves, and he found himself solemn and full of sorrow and sadness. He did not stay in Riften long after the realization, and rather made the sudden decision to set out in the world, to explore and adventure. You could say he did it to distract himself from his powerful emotions, but it almost seems like he set out to explore ruins in hopes of perhaps finding his father, in hopes that maybe, just maybe, his loving father Darius did not perish, and was still alive, still submerged in some of Skyrim's most enigmatic ruins.

Roleplay Sample: Marcus could feel the thick fog in the air weighing heavily on him, obscuring his vision and clouding the landscape with its thick mist. The Imperial gripped his shortsword tightly, and the hilt dug into his hand, its grooves pressing hard on the rough, calloused skin. Moisture clung to the man's worn leather armor, the droplets seemingly hanging on for dear life as they slowly slid down the smooth surface of the leather. A dark brown hood cloaked Marcus' head, keeping his face shrouded in darkness as he sat there, crouched in the foggy mist, watching.

Marcus slowly, yet deliberately, placed his left foot forward. A twig felt the weight of the large boot, and snapped under the boot's pressure, the sharp sound resounding throughout the valley. The Imperial frantically searched the dense fog for any movement, or any sign of life in response to the loud noise. After seeing nothing, he began moving. Step by step, Marcus remained low to the ground, tall grass gently sweeping by him and playfully brushing up against his rough, unshaven face.

A faint light came into view, emitting a dim yellow glow that did little to fend off the intrusive fog. Marcus crept closer and closer, slowly withdrawing his sword from its crude leather sheath. he held the weapon in front of him, right hand wrapped around the hilt tightly, knuckles white with force. The golden blade was light in his hand, eager to reach out and kiss an adversary with its sharp edge.

The light grew closer, and Marcus saw it was a fire, burning bright, embers crackling and smoke rising, escaping though the grey mist. Marcus approached the pile of logs set ablaze and saw figures, illuminated by the light of the fire, gathered around the heat, warming themselves. Small, meager wool tents surrounded them, drooping in the faint glow, covered in moisture.

There were three men and a woman standing in the center of the what seemed to be a makeshift camp, milling about, swords and axes sheathed, enjoying the inviting warmth of the blaze. They were in rough and worn hide armor, rips and tears of travel very visible even from Marcus' viewpoint, hidden in the thick fog, away from the luminescent glow of the fire. Marcus looked down at his body, as if making sure he was still there before he looked up and his eyes locked on the figures in the center of the camp. His mind was calm, and a single thought floated across it.

Goodbye bandit scum.

Marcus slowly stood up off the leaf-littered ground. He reached his free left arm up and wiped his face with his sleeve, doing little to eliminate the thin layer of moisture from the Imperial's face. He then began to walk forward, towards the blaze, towards those gathered around the source of heat.

One of the men noticed movement, and his eyes darted towards the approaching silhouette with alarm. He shouted out, and reached for his sword, fumbling as he tried to withdraw it from his leather sheath. Unable to dislodge his blade from his belt, he looked up, eyes widened in fear.

A rough faced Imperial stood before him, eyes shaded by the hood that was draped over the mess of black hair that topped his head. The man recognized the scar that marked the left side of his face, and his jaw dropped.

"I.. I'm sorry! Please... don't kill me! You can have yo-" The man begged the imposing Imperial, but his plea was cut short by a swift sword stroke, as the man shoved his shortsword through his stomach. Blood began to flow out of his still open mouth and dripped down to coat the grass with the crimson red liquid.

"Die with honor, fool." The man's voice was low and gruff, and he finished his statement with a sharp twist of his sword, evoking a scream of pain from the man. the Imperial watched as the life left his eyes and his body crumpled to the blood soaked ground. The man wrenched his sword free of his limp body and turned.

Marcus stepped over the corpses of the bandits he had just slain to reach a nearby tent, where he saw a large oaken chest, rimmed and reinforced with steel. He approached the heavy wooden box and smashed the lock with his dirt-encrusted boot. A loud clang rang out, and the rusted iron lock fell to the ground.

The Imperial crouched down and threw open the chest to see a sea of gold coins, jewels and silver, goblets and fine china all lumped together. A smirk crossed Marcus' face, and he reached inside his armor to withdraw a small leather satchel along with a roughspun coin purse. He reached in for a handful of septims to top off his coin purse before tucking it back inside his armor. He returned to the chest, full of treasure, and dug through the endless coins and jewels.

His hands finally found what he was looking for. He grasped it and pulled his hand from the sea of coins, a tremendous noise filling his ears as he did so. He looked down at the large object. A grin sprouted on Marcus' face as his eyes gazed upon a three pronged sapphire claw, glimmering with magnificence. He tucked the claw inside his satchel and tucked it back inside his armor. The Imperial kicked the chest shut with a thud, and turned, grin still encompassing his face. He began walking though the dense fog, away from the vacant camp, towards the ruin where he can finally unlock the secrets and the treasure hidden beneath.

 

[Kir the Silent]

Delusional and Sun&Moon are accepted.

 

[Kir the Silent]

You should pick your color for you dialogue in advance as to avoid confusion. I have claimed this and this.

 

[Delusional]

Awesome. I choose the customary this for Marcus.

 

[White_Memories]

I choose this color for Elanin. As I used in my rp example.

 

[Valin Oakthorn]

Well This looks fantastic.​

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Aplication​

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Name: Valin Oakthorn​

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Age: 75 (looks 29)​

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Sex: Male​

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Race: Bosmer / Werewolf​

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Occupation: Ranger​

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Birthplace: Valenwood​

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Current Residence: N/a​

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Alliances or Affiliations: Tall Trees Wolf pack​

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Appearance: Muscular for most bosmer, tan with black hair, Werewolf scratch under his left cheek. A tunic made entirely of werewolf fur, hide, etc, in order for it to remain on during transformations.​

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Personality: He is a trustworthy and loyal elf, willing to give his life for the few people he can call friends. It is however hard for him to trust you, and does not often look to make friends. He is slow to judge, but quick to anger. Often regretting things he has said.​

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History: Valin was born to a bosmer and an altmer, though showing only bosmer traits. His father left the day Valin was born, taking his brother with him. Valin's village was destroyed by the thalmor, which ultimately drove him to join the thalmor to fight for bosmer equality. Struggling with lycanthropy, he turned to his fellow werewolves and created a pack. He called this the tall trees wolf pack, consisting of 8 other werewolves. He has constantly traveled all over tamriel on missions for his pack, which usually end up turning into grand adventures. Now he travels to the rift, after one of his pack brothers speaking of a great adventure that awaited below a dwemer ruin.​

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Roleplaying Sample:​

It was dark, Valin had somehow found himself in a clearing. Something was wrong, something had scared off the birds, the wolves, the deer, and Valin didn't know what. Until he heard a nords voice call out to him.​

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"Drop your weapons Valin! Your poaching days are at an end!" The nord cried out.​

Valin was a somewhat regular visitor to the forests near falkreath, and his poaching was famous to the guards there. The ranger heard the crackling of leaves as six other guards stepped into the clearing. He cringed as the stepped so loudly, alerting every deer in the forest to run. Valin drew his bow, yet lowered it towards the ground. They were all roughly twelve paces away, only one had a ranged weapon.​

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Valin had to make his move, and fast. The guards had their weapons drawn, and were moving ever so closer.​

"Oh, but I am much more than a poacher, Nord!" Valin Warned "See, I... I am a ranger!" He explained​

Valin opened up his body, his left shoulder towards the archer. The ranger released his arrow, and didn't even watch as the arrow reached his neck. Before the guard captain could react another man collapsed to the ground. The nords charged at Valin. Valin Dropped two arrows into a guards chest. Pulling an arrow from his quiver, Valin turned and lodged it into the heart of a man that was just about to swing his mace. Dodging a sword swing, Valin kicked a brown haired man's legs out from under him, then proceeded to aim his bow straight down and shoot him between the eyes.​

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The Ranger looked over, to see the guard captain standing in the same place as he had been before, his eyes revealing enormous amounts of fear. Valin placed his bow back on his back with his left hand and pulled out his sword with his right. It was longsword, twice as thick as the usual one. The sword required to hands to swing due to the weight being twice that of the average longsword. This blade was different though, it was a twin blade.​

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Valin pulled the blade apart into two identical swords. He charged at the captain who stood ready with a battle axe. Valin swung, his blade reaching a block. Though, the guard captain was open to a second shot, and luckily, Valin had a second blade. Valin jabbed into the man's stomach and leaned back, letting the man fall off the sword.​

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Valin sheathed his sword onto his back and began his journey to the rift, where he had heard rumors of yet another glorious adventure.​

 

[Kir the Silent]

Valin is accepted, in order to make this rp balanced we will be looking for two female roleplayers to fill in the last to spots.

 

[Kir the Silent]

If we don't get any other applicants in the next 24hrs I will go ahead and start the thread.

 

[White_Memories]

Everyone is missing out =3=

This idea is amazing.

 

[Kir the Silent]

Lol thanks, if you all have any female roleplay friends feel free to invite them. I like my rps to be balanced between male and female participants XD

 

[Tiaz Raydari]

This RP idea looks interesting, looks like its going to be a great adventure. Hope you enjoy reading my application and would like it better if i was accepted, also its good to see a familiar face around.




Name: Che'anni Musgrav'n.

Age: 23.

Sex: Female.

Race: Imperial.

Occupation: Ranger.

Birthplace: Black marsh.

Current Residence: Skyrim, The reach.

Alliances or Affiliations: Currently none.

Equipment: Two slightly curved daggers for close melee combat.
One hunting bow for long ranged combat or hunting.
Ninety five steel arrows ready and waiting.
Four cure disease potions.
Leather pants, gloves, boots with custom fitted hide armor.
Glass Bottle containing water.


Appearance:
Stands at 5'6, Silver-grey long hair usually tied in a bun although likes it to be left loose. Blue eyes, long lashes, average weight and build, has a small scar on the right hand side of her forehead just above the brow, wears custom fitted hide armor, fitted with steel plates for extra protection, High leather boots, leather pants to go under the armor and simple leather gloves for protection against cold and many other things.

Personality:
Che'anni dislikes to be treated with disrespect and extreme cruelty due to her past, develops a grudge against people who surpass her, possibly a bit rash and quick tempered although she can keep her anger at bay if her mission depends on it, she dislikes the undead and all things tied to necromancy, she believes that life is a natural process. Some of the things that she likes are hunting, Setting traps, ambushing her foes, fighting against powerful foes that improve her abilities, she likes to be tested, she will not take "no" for an answer. She enjoys well cooked foods, drinks that are sweet and usually non-alcoholic, prefers to be in the dense forest more then any other places.

History:
Che'anni in her early years grew up in Black marsh, living with her parents in a small cottage just north west of the main village. Her mother was an alchemist, selling her wares and small trinkets down by village in a small shop near the gate, her father was an hunter, often he traveled with his friends going off into the wild hunting for game that was to be their supper. At the age of twelve Che'anni was doing her daily chores when her father came home early from his hunting trip and told the family they must run into the wild before it is too late, before the bandits came and pillaged the place. The scared Che'anni and her mother quickly gathered up some things before running into the forest, bumping into a man, that man who was a bandit himself quickly grabbed Che'anni's mother and sliced her neck, she dropped staring lifelessly at Che'anni, blood starting to form a small puddle around her body. The bandit had taken Che'anni and sold her off to the highest bidder. At the age of eighteen she had recently been moved to another mine in skyrim to dig up all of the steel ore she could, surviving on minimal food and water, sleeping in dusty caged in damp areas. The time came to escape when the slaver of the mine started to fall ill and became delusional and took Che'anni to be his long lost daughter for a day, He had orded the guards to open the cage and bring Che'anni to his house for a nice meal but when the guards had taken her out she quickly escaped and run over a cliff, Che'anni woke up days later in a Inn by a town named Riverwood. The Innkeeper had been kind and generous to Che'anni, offering her a place to stay, food to eat and a job. At the age of twenty Che'anni had left the Inn, had payed off her debt to the Innkeeper and walked off into the wild, remembering the things her father and mother had taught her. Trying to put her past life behind her but it still haunts her to this very day.

Roleplaying Sample:
"Hello, is anybody there?"
Che'anni called off into the dark road, knowing she could not hide from the creature or man in the darkness of the night that had seen her already, it was stalking her. Che'anni knew that it was following her for days on the end now and it would possibly continue to do so for many more to come, until it was ready to strike. This had to stop one way or another, it was going to be it or her and Che'anni liked the one where she walked away rather then knowing what it had to do to her.

A man walked forward, towards Che'anni and looked at her, trying to hide the excitement in his eyes.
"Is everything alright, young girl. For I was walking towards Markarth to meet some friends of mine, Would you care for some company? A girl like you should not be walking alone in these dark roads, anything could happen."
The man stated with a smirk, walking closer, holding his hand out for Che'anni to take. He got close and quickly took his free hand and placed it on his hip, preparing to pull out a weapon to threaten Che'anni into what he wanted. Che'anni knew better and grabbed her slightly curved dagger, stepped forward and shoved it in the man's stomach, looking up into his eyes and then Che'anni was about to speak but was caught off guard. The man had thrown her to the ground, started to walk and then stopped beside her. Taking out dagger Che'anni had left in his stomach the man then used the dagger to point to Che'anni.
"I had such wondrous things planned for us my dear but now you had to go and complicate things, you should of just taken my hand, you would of been better off but now I guess I have to finish my meal right here, right now."
The man said while still pointing the dagger to Che'anni, starting to lick his blood off to clean the blade, walking forward and continued with. "Now be good my dear, I do not want to dirty up my clothes with blood do I now?"

Che'anni had other plans still to come for this disgusting creature, clenching her last weapon by her side she waited for him to get close enough and then pounced up and followed with a punch to his left side, stunned the man could not follow the girls movements as she clenched the blade even tighter then before and ended the fight with one final blow. Che'anni fell back onto the ground, resting for the slightest moment before looking at the man. He was a vampire looking for a meal, she could see that now by his teeth and his eyes now that she was not trying to be fed upon, Che'anni got up and gripped the blade in his neck and pulled it out, she then started to pick up the other one on the floor which the man had dropped upon his death, she kicked the body to make sure it was dead before looking ahead at the road continuing her walk in the darkness of the night.

 

[Kir the Silent]

I enjoyed reading the application, you are accepted into What Lies Beneath. I assume you want the light blue as your character dialogue color right

 

[Tiaz Raydari]

Yes but it can change to make sure it is not taken if it already has.

 

[Kir the Silent]

It's not taken, no worries.