OOC The Snow Falls Red (Sign up here)

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    Free Form Role Playing Guide for Beginners
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    There are many guilds, groups and organizations throughout Skyrim.

    The legendary Companions of Whiterun.

    The mysterious Thieves Guild of Riften.

    The enigmatic College of Winterhold.

    The bloodthirsty Windhelm Pit Fighters.

    The honorbound Fighter's Guild of Markaarth

    The renowned Bard's College of Solitude.

    The haunting Darkbrotherhood.

    Many more have risen and fallen throughout the eras, their names lost in the annals of time. Generations of lore and saga lost to the ages. But in this frigid wasteland some choose to write their own legends rather than add on to the ones written before them. One of these was a nord by the name of Helda the Young Wolf. A huntress of little fame but great skill she and her shield-brother; a Dumner known as Sorius Uvelrethi journeyed to the frigid mountains of Eastmarch. There they found an ancient fortress on the border Morrowind. A massive castle complex older than Windhelm itself, forged from ice and stone.

    The two used this as a base of operations, slaying monsters, delving into ruins and protecting those who could not protect themselves. Calling themselves the Northern Dragons, the tales of their exploits traveled all across Tamriel, from Skyrim to Hammerfell, to Eleswyr. Men and women of all backgrounds came to devote their lives to blade and adventure. Some came in search of fortune, others fame and quite a few simply wanted to make a good difference in the world.

    But then it changed. Helga was found dead in her quarters her own dagger plunged into her chest. Many had accepted that she had chosen "to go on her own terms." As for her closest friend Sorius..he was no where to be found. Some say he too, took his own life, throwing himself from the mountains. Others speak of daedra dragging him into the shadows. But rumors persist of mage of shadow and flame walking among the Ashlanders of Morrowind. And according to the local dark elves of the great houses,e a great evil grows in the ashlands of northern Morrowind one that has attracted some of the more extreme and violent tribes of Ashlanders.

    As for the Northern Dragons, now leaderless they have found themselves with no guidance or council. In an attempt to bring order to their guild, Ushnag the Bloodletter a fierce ranger from the Wood Orc tribes of Valenwood has formed a small group of the most senior members of the guild. However this council has grown unpopular.

    The Dragons fought not for payment but for the thrill and glory of battle, denying all contracts accepting pay only in what they looted from ancient ruins and the backs of ferocious beasts. Yet Ushnag has been set on reforming the guild into a mercenary army, much to the disdain of the rest of the Dragons.

    Between the infighting and chaos, many have forgotten their true purpose and overlooked the rumors from Morrowind. Yet a few members of the Dragons have not forgone the reason they joined up. Intent on discovering the truth of Hulda's death and investigating the rumors in Morrowind these members must navigate the political landscape of their guild and the many dangers that lurk beyond the border.


    Rules

    No godmodding

    Try to keep your posts detailed and avoid short posts when possible

    Be civil to one another

    Keep swearing to a minimum when out of character

    Avoid killing someone else's OC without their permission and don't control someone else's character without their permission.
     
    Last edited:

    Signus

    Well-Known Member
    Name: Dareth Cauldrus

    Race: Dunmer

    Gender: Male

    Age: 78, looks about early twenties.

    Class: Warrior/fighter (sword/shield)

    Appearance: Dareth is about as scarred and rugged as can be expected for someone who's lead a life of fighting. The tip of his right ear is missing, a long scar traces his left jaw and his torso is marked with all manner of past injuries. His skin is a dark grey, and his eyes are the normal ruby red of his people. He has long dark hair, pulled back in a short pony tail.

    Armor: A mixed bag of legion heavy armour, chainmail, and leather. His upper torso is legion plate, while his lower torso, legs and arms are covered in chainmail and leather.

    Weapons: A steel mace and rectangular shield.

    Personality: A dour and cynical individual, Dareth has experienced the horrors of combat first hand, and knows that there's no such things as heroes in war. He'll be the first to point out the flaws in a plan. However, he's also not against using his military expertise to help his comrades.

    Likes: Gold, having the odds in his favour.

    Dislikes: Being told what to do, the Empire, Stormcloaks

    History: Born to refugee parents fleeing the Red Mountain, Dareth was raised in the Grey quarters of Windhelm, and quickly grew to resent the local nords treating him like vermin. After years of putting up with their abuse, Dareth snapped and murdered a drunk nord who'd taken to scrawling obscenities on doorways and throwing filth at any Dunmer unlucky enough to catch his attention.

    The guards were unaware of who had slain the man, but began questioning the locals closely. Not wanting to put his friends and family in danger, Dareth fled the city. He would have been pursued, but days later, the civil war broke out.

    Seeing an opportunity to strike back at the nords who'd tormented his people, he joined the legion in Solitude several weeks after fleeing Windhelm. He was assigned to a unit stationed in Dragonsbridge. His commander, an imperial who had been appointed to the position solely because of his father, who was some rich, influential noble, had no real idea of how to lead a unit.

    However the man thought to claim some glory, and when news of Storcloaks scouts across the bridge reached him, he lead the unit in force. The commander neglected to send out scouts of his own, and so failed understand that what he thought to be a dozen or so lightly armed and armoured scouts, were actually a war camp of at least fifty rebels.

    Caught in the open with no prior warning, Dareths' unit was slaughtered, with their glorious 'commander' being the first to flee. Only Dareth and three others survived that fateful day. They were instructed to train up a fresh batch of recruits from Cyrodiil while their commander was given a promotion for 'bravery in the field'.

    Thoroughly disgusted by the man, Dareth deserted, keeping some of his imperial gear more out of practicality, rather than sentimentality. Over the months that followed, he became a warrior of fortune, willing to risk his life for the promise of treasure.

    Text: Red.
     

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