Physical Characteristics: Tall Nimble Dark Brown hair and red eyes typical of the dumner. ash stained face with a scar across the right arm.
Gender: Male
Age: 67
Race: Dumner, a pureblood ash lander
Items: Spell Book, Glass Sword, a set of steel armor, a iron dagger, and two weak potions of healing
Magic: Due to living with the Morrowind Great houses he has a expert skill with destruction magic, some brief work with tel vani mages taught him several other skills like basic alchemy and enchanting along with a brief study of alteration and illusion that came with study.
Character Personality: Quick to pick up new ideas has a intense hatred of the new tribunal but not those who worship the tribunal. Has a soft spot for Non Mer Races and children, Tries to be pious but can be cynical greedy and envious. Has a positive opinion of guilds like the old mage and warriors guild but is not unwilling to pay for brotherhood or tong assisins.
Character History: Born to the ash landers of vvardenfel he was quick to leave his Ashland clan and take up mercenary work for the local great houses. A tel vani mage who was having a afar with a redoran noble, took him up as her apprentice and taught him a assortment of magical skills majoring in destruction, By the time he could cast his first flame spell he began training with a sword and spell one in each hand, however never becoming skilled enough to outmatch his destruction skill. His studies broadened and he began studying alchemy and enchanting. When he turned 18 his adopted mother asked him to be a priest so he did. However after learning the story of the tribunal from ashlanders he fell into the cult of Azura and swore he would never pray to the false tribunal again. After some time he decided to look up his old clan, He finds out they were all scattered by a lava flow from red mountain. Upon learning this he dediced to move to skyrim from the cult at Blacklight to get as far away as possible from red mountain while staying ready for a request from his mother. He fell in love with a Nord companion who was working as a guard in winterhold, eventually he joined the colledge to display his skills where he got his spellbook and his potion materials for a time. As a gift from his now betrothed she gave him a glass sword along with enough gold to buy a set of steel armor. In time his wife died after contracting a case of pox. He decided out of grief to take all he could from the college and leave for cyrodil by boat and then travel to valenwood by foot. However as soon as he left the colledge he was apprehended by guards and sentenced to death on other charges, fortunately in a stroke of luck he is put on a boat heading for the colovian coast in cyrodil through a guard messing up some paperwork, however he will still be put to death.
(( I am certain that I looked through everything, I don't see any problems though, If it is only the description of my character, I'll fix it. ))
((BACK! Wont be on tuesday much if at all. and your Denied. Your skills are higher then 100, this takes place after skyrim but that wasnt on the op so thats fine, and you didnt read the rules carefully, your missing something in other.))
Chary was filled with compassion as he heard the khajiit's short story. He looked at him, his name Shin according to the tale, and said
"It takes a mere coward to run from danger, but it takes a warrior to stay and die for another."
However Chary knew that he was a thief, and a good one at that if he truly stole "secretive papers". Chary could hear the horse hooves hitting the stone of a path and knew that they must be close to the execution. Chary then said his story as well.
"I was framed for a murder, I went to go and investigate and see if there were any clues as to the real killer but all I found was a spell tome. I was foolish and read the tome only to use the spell uncontrollably, and what is more suspicious than a murder suspect burning down the evidence..."
Chary knew that these fellow fugitives weren't going to believe that he wasn't the killer, but he didn't care it felt good to share what happened.
((try to avoid one liners))
Chary was waiting for atleast one person to say something. He looked around at everyone until he saw one of the bretons staring at him. He didn't know what to make of it, was he shy or was he so self-glorified that he felt he didn't need to say a word to a prisoner. "You know that you aren't better then any of us currently going to die right?" Chary asked, not waiting for an answer he continued "You did something, which is either so horrible you don't want us to know or you are just to big of milk-drinker to talk to us."
Chary was tired as there isn't much time to sleep in a caravan constantly moving towards your final resting place. There were 4 other people in the caravan and they hadn't said much. Two bretons and two khajiit. It got to the point where Chary couldn't take the silence and had to say something. He asked, no one in particular, "Why are you here?"
Name: Ril'Sako
Physical Characteristics: Black coat with a white stomach, short unkempt whiskers, white ears, black tail, black hair that's swept back.
Gender: Male
Age: 30
Race: Khajiit
Items: A full steel plate armor set except the helm and an amulet of Kynareth. A Dwarven Greatsword, with an Orcish bow on the side (armed with steel arrows)
Magic: None
Characters Personality: He's not antisocial, but he's not outgoing either - he's kind of in between. He has a terrible hatred for Daedra, and makes it a habit to hunt down Daedra worshipers and atronachs. However, he's not involved with the Vigilants of Stendarr.
Characters History: While my parents were originally from Elsweyr, I was actually born in Skyrim. Growing up around the Nords, who were natural-born warriors, I took up the blade and trained for several years before I left home. My parents wanted me to become a member of a Khajiit caravan, so I did.
Life was good, for a time. I got to explore the lengths of Skyrim, but part of me didn't want it. I felt more at home on a battlefield than in a trader's tent. However, I needed to earn coin, so I traveled.
One day, the caravan I traveled with was raided by a group of Daedra Worshipers. Boethiah, by the sounds of it. It was total slaughter. They wrecked just about everything, and killed everybody but me. I fended them off for quite a while, but I took a mace to the ribs and a sword to the chest (but fortunately not an arrow to the knee). That's when I fell.
I awoke several days later inside a house in Karthwasten. I was immobile for yet another several days after that, and I found that my greatsword was in the corner. A young girl, about 14 years of age if I had to guess, came into the room with some water, and a cold, damp rag. "How are you doing?" she asked in a sympathetic voice.
"Well, I can say I've been better," I said in my Elsweyr accent, though it was quite pained. "Where am I?"
"Karthwasten. Father found you close to death out near Rorikstead, and he brought you back here," she informed me.
"Truly? Ah, well. Perhaps I might be able to meet the man who saved my life?" I asked. To that, she went out of the room and brought back a tall, burly Imperial man with an eye patch. "Lania, leave us please," he asked his daughter.
After she left the room, the man sat beside my bed. "You took quite a beating back there. You all right?" he asked.
"Agh... well, can't say I've ever been in worse shape. My caravan was ambushed by Daedra Worshipers. Most likely Boethiah," I explained.
"That's most unfortunate. Either way, you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like," he offered.
"My thanks. Tell me, why did you save me? You could have left me to die in the mud. Instead, you took me into your home, even though I may have tried to hurt or rob you. Why?"
"Because you needed help, and I was the only one willing to help you. Others I saw simply passed you by," he explained.
"I... see," I said grimly. "Either way, thank you for your hospitality. My name is Ril'sako," I said thankfully.
"No problem. If you ever need me, my name's Mason. My daughter Hilde and wife Alana would also be glad to help you if you need anything," he offered.
"You're too kind," I said.
Several weeks later, I was back on my feet and back on the road. I will certainly never forget them.
A couple years later, I began traveling with another Khajiit caravan. I thought they were just traveling salesmen. Turned out they were skooma dealers and secret members of the Dark Brotherhood. Much to my chagrin, I didn't know that. The rest of them were killed by imperials when they tried to run, but I ended up being imprisoned, and now I'm on my way to Cyrodill to be executed.
Skills: 35 Two-handed, 20 Heavy Armor, 20 Archery, 25 Block
Guild: none.
Lycanthropy or Vampirism: No way, bruddah. Vampires are so 1645, and a khajiit could never be a Werewolf. If anything, he'd be a Weretiger, and those just ain't right.
Other: Have you ever been to Whimsyshire? Beautiful place. Unicorns, rainbows, and cotton candy as far as the eye can see. Pretty sure it's Watermelon Turtle season, too.
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((Personally to me it looks right but i have the nagging feeling that something is off, anybody else have an opinion?))
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((Accepted))
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Chary looked at the Khajiit. And then thought.
Why would he just openly say that so near the guards? Either he is really good, really cocky, or doesn't understand the dangers we are all in.
Chary then whispered "Shin, I recommend doing that in silence, so that you aren't over heard."
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((depends on wards level, if it is the basic then it couldn't deflect a adept spell.))
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Age: 25
Personality: Shy, and somewhat cowardly.
Portal Color 1: Red
Other: Adobted by two magical furry carrots of DEATH. Dont laugh "you were adobted" too!
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((all skills are combined, and the magic ones are over 100. It keeps balance so that some dont have 50 for destruction, regen, smithing, ect.))
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((BACK! Wont be on tuesday much if at all. and your Denied. Your skills are higher then 100, this takes place after skyrim but that wasnt on the op so thats fine, and you didnt read the rules carefully, your missing something in other.))
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"It takes a mere coward to run from danger, but it takes a warrior to stay and die for another."
However Chary knew that he was a thief, and a good one at that if he truly stole "secretive papers". Chary could hear the horse hooves hitting the stone of a path and knew that they must be close to the execution. Chary then said his story as well.
"I was framed for a murder, I went to go and investigate and see if there were any clues as to the real killer but all I found was a spell tome. I was foolish and read the tome only to use the spell uncontrollably, and what is more suspicious than a murder suspect burning down the evidence..."
Chary knew that these fellow fugitives weren't going to believe that he wasn't the killer, but he didn't care it felt good to share what happened.
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((try to avoid one liners))
Chary was waiting for atleast one person to say something. He looked around at everyone until he saw one of the bretons staring at him. He didn't know what to make of it, was he shy or was he so self-glorified that he felt he didn't need to say a word to a prisoner. "You know that you aren't better then any of us currently going to die right?" Chary asked, not waiting for an answer he continued "You did something, which is either so horrible you don't want us to know or you are just to big of milk-drinker to talk to us."
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ACCEPTED we can start at anytime!