Dark Brotherhood doesn't exist yet, try replacing them with the Morang Tong, they were a more elitist precursor, and since yd be the perfect target for them.The Unworthy Gentleman said:
Elder Scrolls Roleplay: Interregnum
- Thread starter Josh123914
- Start date
Recommended Videos
maybe the whole lycanthropy and Vampirism should be kept secret, I mean back then you were chased out of cities if people suspected you of either, on top of that, you have a Daedra worshipper hunter in the squad, so unless you want to be murdered in your sleep, you won't be making your form known to everyone.mcpop9 said:
Yeah I wasn't aware of the time period until after I created the character sheet. Doesn't change anything vital so it's cool.Josh12345 said:
I don't plan on making her presence as a vampire known until a while away. this group is just a bomb waiting to go off. But it will be a questioning point to why Luna is wearing such a heavy cloak in the warm environment of the imperial city.Josh12345 said:
Name & gender: Urgal Gro Lee
Race: Orc
Appearance: Extremely battle scarred. missing one of his lower teeth, the other is chipped. small chunk of forehead missing and discoloured. black hair in dreads.
Equipment and Magic: No magic. Skilled in dual wielding orcish maces and wears a full set of orcish armour minus the helmet. Amulet of his clan Dushnikh Yal tattered, rusted and burnt beyond recognition. no magical properties.
Personal History: Grew up in Dushnikh Yal, though he always seemed too big for it. He spent days wandering the plains to the north in his youth in search of game or a challenge. He found it when he was 19 in the form of a particularly fearsome giant which, whilst he him gave a run for his money, he was clearly no match. It chased him all the way back to the stronghold which had locked its gates.
Urgal pounded on them, shouting for assistance as the giant drew nearer. His father, chief, stood atop the guard tower and bellowed "Fight like an Orc, or die like an Orc! Malacath demands it!"
Urgal turned about, weary and bloody, and staggered towards the giant which was now standing just a few yards away, waiting for Urgal to make a move. They fought for what seemed like hours, Urgal was definitely on the back foot for most of the fight, circling away from the giant, taking a blow here, a scrape there, all the time aware that he couldn't get a strong hit in. His tribe stood watching from atop the wall, shouting jeers and slurs at him.
The tide changed when Urgal's brother, Kaglar, walked atop the wall with a bow and fired a shot at the giant. The arrow struck the giants shoulder and diverted his attention for just enough time for the enraged Urgal to plant mace blows at the back of his leg, stomach, and then a killing blow to the face.
Urgal turned expecting cheers of his victory, but instead found his father throwing Kaglar from the walls into the mud. He got up and started walking away. Urgal tried to stop him but Kaglar turned and pushed him away, without saying a word. Urgal saw that he didn't have his tribal amulet on and then he knew the enormity of Kaglar's offence. By directly influencing Urgal's battle in his favour, he had broken the rules of 1 on 1 combat and was no longer welcome in the tribe.
Urgal was left standing frozen for the entire rest of the night outside the gates of his home, hoping that somehow Kaglar would return, but was at dawn greeted with the gates opening at which point he walked inside.
His tribe were all there, just silently watching, and sneering as Urgal took a walk of shame towards the fire where his father was standing. "Despite Kaglar's cowardly behaviour last night, the tribe has come to a consensus that you are not responsible and therefore will not be exiled." His father spat out. Urgal could clearly see amongst his kin that there wasn't a particular landslide in his favour. "He's my brothe..." Urgal growled "He's a traitor to the Code of Malacath!" boomed his father. Urgal spotted a glint of early morning sunlight reflecting on something in centre of the fire. It was Kaglar's amulet. Without a moments hesitation Urgal plunged his arm into the fire and clenched it in his fist along with a sizable amount of ash. "HE'S AN ORC!" yelled Urgal to the silence. And with that he marched out of the stronghold never to return.
That was 10 years ago. His exile started with Markarth where he learnt that his brother was headed for the Imperial City in Cyrodiil. With nothing to lose, he set out for the Imperial province. Since then he's been going from odd job to odd job not hearing any news of his brother, and has all but given up hope. But whenever he hears a drunken story on the bloated float about an orcish archer he pursues it persuading and intimidating whoever he can in order to find him.
At the time this RP encounters him, he's gotton weary of his search and of the Imperial city, and a high paying package escort job is exactly what he needs to keep him from having to clear rats out of basements.
Race: Orc
Appearance: Extremely battle scarred. missing one of his lower teeth, the other is chipped. small chunk of forehead missing and discoloured. black hair in dreads.
Equipment and Magic: No magic. Skilled in dual wielding orcish maces and wears a full set of orcish armour minus the helmet. Amulet of his clan Dushnikh Yal tattered, rusted and burnt beyond recognition. no magical properties.
Personal History: Grew up in Dushnikh Yal, though he always seemed too big for it. He spent days wandering the plains to the north in his youth in search of game or a challenge. He found it when he was 19 in the form of a particularly fearsome giant which, whilst he him gave a run for his money, he was clearly no match. It chased him all the way back to the stronghold which had locked its gates.
Urgal pounded on them, shouting for assistance as the giant drew nearer. His father, chief, stood atop the guard tower and bellowed "Fight like an Orc, or die like an Orc! Malacath demands it!"
Urgal turned about, weary and bloody, and staggered towards the giant which was now standing just a few yards away, waiting for Urgal to make a move. They fought for what seemed like hours, Urgal was definitely on the back foot for most of the fight, circling away from the giant, taking a blow here, a scrape there, all the time aware that he couldn't get a strong hit in. His tribe stood watching from atop the wall, shouting jeers and slurs at him.
The tide changed when Urgal's brother, Kaglar, walked atop the wall with a bow and fired a shot at the giant. The arrow struck the giants shoulder and diverted his attention for just enough time for the enraged Urgal to plant mace blows at the back of his leg, stomach, and then a killing blow to the face.
Urgal turned expecting cheers of his victory, but instead found his father throwing Kaglar from the walls into the mud. He got up and started walking away. Urgal tried to stop him but Kaglar turned and pushed him away, without saying a word. Urgal saw that he didn't have his tribal amulet on and then he knew the enormity of Kaglar's offence. By directly influencing Urgal's battle in his favour, he had broken the rules of 1 on 1 combat and was no longer welcome in the tribe.
Urgal was left standing frozen for the entire rest of the night outside the gates of his home, hoping that somehow Kaglar would return, but was at dawn greeted with the gates opening at which point he walked inside.
His tribe were all there, just silently watching, and sneering as Urgal took a walk of shame towards the fire where his father was standing. "Despite Kaglar's cowardly behaviour last night, the tribe has come to a consensus that you are not responsible and therefore will not be exiled." His father spat out. Urgal could clearly see amongst his kin that there wasn't a particular landslide in his favour. "He's my brothe..." Urgal growled "He's a traitor to the Code of Malacath!" boomed his father. Urgal spotted a glint of early morning sunlight reflecting on something in centre of the fire. It was Kaglar's amulet. Without a moments hesitation Urgal plunged his arm into the fire and clenched it in his fist along with a sizable amount of ash. "HE'S AN ORC!" yelled Urgal to the silence. And with that he marched out of the stronghold never to return.
That was 10 years ago. His exile started with Markarth where he learnt that his brother was headed for the Imperial City in Cyrodiil. With nothing to lose, he set out for the Imperial province. Since then he's been going from odd job to odd job not hearing any news of his brother, and has all but given up hope. But whenever he hears a drunken story on the bloated float about an orcish archer he pursues it persuading and intimidating whoever he can in order to find him.
At the time this RP encounters him, he's gotton weary of his search and of the Imperial city, and a high paying package escort job is exactly what he needs to keep him from having to clear rats out of basements.
Feel free to say any changes etc.
I doubt Dushnikh Yal is over 1000 years old, but we can probably let that slide, what makes a difference here is that the Ebharte Pact is made up of Nords, Dunmer and Argonians, NOT Orcs, so they were probably driven out of Skyrim before the war breaks out, so you should probably relocate him to either Hammerfell or Orsinium (a small orc City state in High Rock).Derek_the_Dodo said:
Aside from that, people come on, 2/3 of the posts have people from Skyrim, where's the argonians, where's the altmer? (no the dragon does not count) This isn't a jab at anyone in particular, I'm just starting to notice a trend here.
I'll agree. Being kept a secret (For now) would probably be best.Josh12345 said:
Though I think it'd make for a very interesting group dynamic!
Ask for the Argonians and they will come.
Character Sheet:
Name & Gender: Mazak-Dasheen (Pronounced Muh-zuk) aka Likes-The-Mud, Male
Race: Argonian
Appearance: Mazak is slightly smaller and stouter than the average Argonian. His head is a bit flatter too. His scales are a dark green, which contrast slightly with his crimson eyes. Across his face he has a patch of dark blue scales. He lacks the horns or plumage of most others of his kind, though he does sport the jaw-spikes that male Argonians are known for.
His normal attire is a tan suit of leather armor, the chest piece being darker than the others, due to the beast the hide belonged to being different than the gauntlets, greaves, and boots. He has a noticeable necklace of teeth around his neck, the center one being noticeably large, though the exact beast it came from changes everytime Mazak-Dasheen tells how he got it.
Weapons/Magic/Equipment: Mazak knows little magic, preferring a martial approach to combat. He stealthily likes to pick off his opponents with poisoned arrows, or if cornered in a direct confrontation, will instead use his two daggers until he can escape.
Personal history: Mazak is from the Black Marsh, and was hatched one day early of being marked a Shadow Scale, something he commonly complains about whenever his luck is particularly bad.
Growing up, he was instilled with an intense hatred for the Dunmer of Morrowind by his particularly racist father, who was an accomplished hunter at the time. It was from his father that Mazak had learned the proper ways of applying poison, and the most efficient way to deliver it: by bow. As he entered into Manhood, he and his father became more and more renown hunters, bringing down greater and greater beasts for food and sport.
However, when word had reached them of the Ebonmere Pact, an alliance of Dunmer and Argonian, Mazak's father was horrified to say the least. He left the Black Marsh in disgust, taking his wife and children with him. Mazak and his family were relocated to a small village on the Hammerfell-Cyrodill border. Unfortunately, during the trip, Mazak's father was crippled in a bandit attack, his left leg had been paralyzed, and his right hand had been cut off. As Mazak's mother was only a healer by trade, Mazak and his sisters had to get jobs to help pay to take care of their father. Mazak left for Cyrodil, and has used his expierence as a hunter to become a mercenary who is specialized in scouting, hunting, and assassination.
Mazak has been hired onto this trip as an advance scout, able to stealthily go ahead of the group and see if there's any danger up ahead.
Name & Gender: Mazak-Dasheen (Pronounced Muh-zuk) aka Likes-The-Mud, Male
Race: Argonian
Appearance: Mazak is slightly smaller and stouter than the average Argonian. His head is a bit flatter too. His scales are a dark green, which contrast slightly with his crimson eyes. Across his face he has a patch of dark blue scales. He lacks the horns or plumage of most others of his kind, though he does sport the jaw-spikes that male Argonians are known for.
His normal attire is a tan suit of leather armor, the chest piece being darker than the others, due to the beast the hide belonged to being different than the gauntlets, greaves, and boots. He has a noticeable necklace of teeth around his neck, the center one being noticeably large, though the exact beast it came from changes everytime Mazak-Dasheen tells how he got it.
Weapons/Magic/Equipment: Mazak knows little magic, preferring a martial approach to combat. He stealthily likes to pick off his opponents with poisoned arrows, or if cornered in a direct confrontation, will instead use his two daggers until he can escape.
Personal history: Mazak is from the Black Marsh, and was hatched one day early of being marked a Shadow Scale, something he commonly complains about whenever his luck is particularly bad.
Growing up, he was instilled with an intense hatred for the Dunmer of Morrowind by his particularly racist father, who was an accomplished hunter at the time. It was from his father that Mazak had learned the proper ways of applying poison, and the most efficient way to deliver it: by bow. As he entered into Manhood, he and his father became more and more renown hunters, bringing down greater and greater beasts for food and sport.
However, when word had reached them of the Ebonmere Pact, an alliance of Dunmer and Argonian, Mazak's father was horrified to say the least. He left the Black Marsh in disgust, taking his wife and children with him. Mazak and his family were relocated to a small village on the Hammerfell-Cyrodill border. Unfortunately, during the trip, Mazak's father was crippled in a bandit attack, his left leg had been paralyzed, and his right hand had been cut off. As Mazak's mother was only a healer by trade, Mazak and his sisters had to get jobs to help pay to take care of their father. Mazak left for Cyrodil, and has used his expierence as a hunter to become a mercenary who is specialized in scouting, hunting, and assassination.
Mazak has been hired onto this trip as an advance scout, able to stealthily go ahead of the group and see if there's any danger up ahead.
If it's any consolation, Likes-The-Mud would think that you being a Dunmer is the worst thing about your character.mcpop9 said:
I've tried to RP as a female, it just never works right XDA Gent of Villainous Intent said:
Though, come to think of it, I do have a bit of an idea for one... If I get chosen and asked, I might use her instead of Jace.
Why not go through the recruitment process as the start of the RP? Then we could roleplay how all of the characters are introduced to the group.Josh12345 said:
Name & Gender: Bites-Her-Tail, Female
Age: 20-ish
Race: Argonian
Appearance: About five feet tall, with a rather curvy build for an Argonian, and vivid blue scales. Her eyes are a bright gold, and she's got a crest of blue feathers with green-ish tips atop her head. Most of the time she wears fur armor with the legs and arms cut off, and patched together from various animals. It looks like she made it herself, but the craftsmanship isn't very good.
Weapons/Magic/Equipment: Her only weapons are her teeth, claws, and a large elven dagger that can cut through skin like butter. She also carries a staff on her back, but it's not clear what it does and she almost never uses it.
Personal history: Born in the marshes, out in the middle of nowhere. She got her name due to constantly chasing her tail as a hatchling. When she was about ten, she got hopelessly lost in the wilderness. By the time anyone found her she was close to passing out. She was found by a group of what appeared to be merchants--it turned out they were a small group of Sheogorath's worshipers, on a trip to find as much cabbage as they could. They took the young Argonian in, and eventually brought her to Cyrodiil, to the shrine of their Mad God.
Bites-Her-Tail never talks about her past, and beyond her childhood little of interest seems to have happened. It's likely she spent most of her time at the shrine, or collecting odd items to offer to Sheogorath. Not even her fellow worshipers seem to know where she learned to fight so well with her dagger. They just know to stay on her good side.
Personality: Chipper, to the point where some people become quite irritated with her. She rarely shows emotion beyond excited, and the more excited she is the more she'll sway and bob her head (though she seems to do this when she feels anything at all, and especially when she's thinking hard about something). She loves cheese, and decorating her belt with the skulls of her enemies. She tends to speak in third-person, broken sentences, and she has a bit of a lisp.
Reasons for being in the Imperial City: A quest to acquire cheese and yarn. They seem to be in abundance in the marketplace. She's already spent a few days sleeping on the crates around some of the stores.
Age: 20-ish
Race: Argonian
Appearance: About five feet tall, with a rather curvy build for an Argonian, and vivid blue scales. Her eyes are a bright gold, and she's got a crest of blue feathers with green-ish tips atop her head. Most of the time she wears fur armor with the legs and arms cut off, and patched together from various animals. It looks like she made it herself, but the craftsmanship isn't very good.
Weapons/Magic/Equipment: Her only weapons are her teeth, claws, and a large elven dagger that can cut through skin like butter. She also carries a staff on her back, but it's not clear what it does and she almost never uses it.
Personal history: Born in the marshes, out in the middle of nowhere. She got her name due to constantly chasing her tail as a hatchling. When she was about ten, she got hopelessly lost in the wilderness. By the time anyone found her she was close to passing out. She was found by a group of what appeared to be merchants--it turned out they were a small group of Sheogorath's worshipers, on a trip to find as much cabbage as they could. They took the young Argonian in, and eventually brought her to Cyrodiil, to the shrine of their Mad God.
Bites-Her-Tail never talks about her past, and beyond her childhood little of interest seems to have happened. It's likely she spent most of her time at the shrine, or collecting odd items to offer to Sheogorath. Not even her fellow worshipers seem to know where she learned to fight so well with her dagger. They just know to stay on her good side.
Personality: Chipper, to the point where some people become quite irritated with her. She rarely shows emotion beyond excited, and the more excited she is the more she'll sway and bob her head (though she seems to do this when she feels anything at all, and especially when she's thinking hard about something). She loves cheese, and decorating her belt with the skulls of her enemies. She tends to speak in third-person, broken sentences, and she has a bit of a lisp.
Reasons for being in the Imperial City: A quest to acquire cheese and yarn. They seem to be in abundance in the marketplace. She's already spent a few days sleeping on the crates around some of the stores.
Yeah, I'm sure characters will be chosen from diversity, so people should acknowledge others characters already created to get a better chance of acceptance
Oh, and will this be an in group thing, or forum thread?
Oh, and will this be an in group thing, or forum thread?
Indeed. c:mcpop9 said:
Actually, my three Skyrim characters that I've sort of developed have all been female. But I think Bites-Her-Tail is the most interesting of the three (though, I suppose my Orc mage is interesting as well in her own way).