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Character Name: Fatyl Chest-Reach
Race: Imperial
Class: Warrior / Ranger
Looks: 5' 7", 25 years of age, Jet black hair tied into two seperate wind braids. A neatly groomed face with a sharp nose, a hooked bridge, and fierce black eyes. He is adorned in complete Daedric Armor he smithed...
Would it be okay for me to journey off alone, just to change the story and to make less replies to wait for
? In the mean time, I'll be working, and typing in Simus' Rp.
Deluge took in Edwin's response, and smiled behind his mask. Edwin thought him a seer, but he was nowhere near being a seer. His eyes were books that never closed, all they did was observe and record. Every sight linked to one another in his mind. Leading up to this moment where he met a unique...
Deluge looked at the moon when he felt a heavy magical presence; Edwin. "What were you telling that girl? Your dreams to dominate Tamriel and beyond? Asking her to join you as your 'queen'? Quite a farcical image, I must say."
"Don't mock me with your inquiries, Mage. This not of a joking...
Deluge listened on as Alice spoke the only answers she could give him about Azura. "I'm afraid I can't answer that Deluge, but yes. I did beseech Azura. In my dream, Akatosh told me she could help in our search for my sister. I wasn't sure how much I could trust a daedric prince with such...
Deluge stared off across the camp, his hands clasped together; using his mask, Nahkriin, as leverage. His hood was still down and the expression on his face blank as usual. His face was actually cold in it's beauty; the markings tracing from behind his ears to sides of his cheekbones. The pale...
Deluge walked by some merry stormcloak soldiers who were sharing a meal. His mouth watered at the sweetrolls and mead in abundance on the table. He smirked to himself as the glowing, orange vortex of telekinesis formed in his hands, Nahkriin hanging on his chest.
"How about we arm wrestle for...
(OOC: Yes please. I'd love some non-violent interaction. I want to show his warm side as well. Alice should do just the trick, being that he is overall detached.)
Deluge walked by some merry stormcloak soldiers who were sharing a meal. His mouth watered at the sweetrolls and mead in abundance on the table. He smirked to himself as the glowing, orange vortex of telekinesis formed in his hands, Nahkriin hanging on his chest.
"How about we arm wrestle for...