Few things with this guy...
Picture does not match description.
Are you actually a nightingale or not? If no why do you have the armour? If yes please take into account that the rest of us are in leather/steel armour.
How can you be a defensive warrior when your in light armour and have no shield? Does not make sense.
Few things with this guy...
Picture does not match description.
Are you actually a nightingale or not? If no why do you have the armour? If yes please take into account that the rest of us are in leather/steel armour.
How can you be a defensive warrior when your in light armour and have no shield? Does not make sense.
Not really sure what that would entail in slightest but if you can't get anyone else, I may be able to try my hand at it. Would I have to give up my current character?
Abilities: Two-handed, One-handed, Heavy Armor, Smithing
Class: Assassin
Main Class: Warrior
Backstory: Born in Orsinium into a family of blacksmiths and merchants, Faulgor lived a relatively normal life as he was growing up. He took great interest in Orcish weaponry as he began working with his father, though not solely in the crafting of it but the in use of it as well. He took up training with one of the guardsmen that his father knew personally and in a few years time became an adept fighter, as well as the towering figure that he is today, impressing many of his peers in the process. Upon the discovery of his natural ability, he knew it could be put to good use and started taking up work as a mercenary. He didn't get his first taste for blood until he was hired to guard a merchant caravan that ended up facing a raid by bandits. Needless to say, the bandits stood little chance against the towering Orc and the few that lived didn't do so without injury. At that moment, he realized that he didn't mind getting his hands a little dirty; in fact, he enjoyed it. From then on, the work he sought grew more dangerous, accepting various bounties and contracts as a captor and killer. The the success of his endeavors and the amount of work he's done has made him respected and feared among those that know him.
Your character: Harsh, cutthroat businessman when it comes to such matters, though he isn't a made of stone and has a sense of humor which, at times, may seem cruel. His stature and overall demeanor cause many to mistake him as dim and uneducated, though he is well-versed in nearly all manner of speech and he keeps his wits as sharp as his blades, which are sharp enough to split hairs.
Why you just entered the inn: Currently employed as a bodyguard; watching over Sten.
Not really sure what that would entail in slightest but if you can't get anyone else, I may be able to try my hand at it. Would I have to give up my current character?
Not really sure what that would entail in slightest but if you can't get anyone else, I may be able to try my hand at it. Would I have to give up my current character?
sorry, couldn't get the image command to work so here's the first one: http://media.photobucket.com/image/argonian/LordGeass/awesomegonian.jpg?o=22,
and here's the second one: http://media.photobucket.com/image/skyrim%20argonian/qingyun1/Skyrim/2011-11-27_00020.jpg?o=31 the second picture is what i'm aiming for, kind of like the argonian picture at the top
Name: Swims'Faster (not his real name, but what he goes by here for the sake of simplicity, it's easier to pronounce.)
Race: Argonian
Age: 19
Equipment:skyforge steel Spear(skyforge greatsword if spears can't be used), 2 daggers,light scale armor (real scales, i would assume to be the equivelent of city guard armor, it's just easier to move with scales than heavier stuff),no helmet, javelin, buckler strapped to his forearm
Backstory: raised in Black Marsh, Swims'Faster was one of the few born under the sign of the Shadow that was trained in the old ways, learning the arts of stealth and murder from a young age. He developed a thirst for the magic of the school of Conjuration and showed an aptitude for it beyond that which his mentor could safely teach to him, sadly, all other schools of magic were closed to him as he had not the skill in claiming their energies for himself. He grew to love the fighting style of the spear and javelin, devoting all his time and energy away from the art of murder to his new way of fighting, mixing in what he believes to be the perfect synergy of the three. When he was 15, he was chosen as one of the few to sneak into Dunmer territory and kill one of three noble families responsible for an earlier attack on his clan.His partner for the mission was chosen as well, Quickkills(again, easier to pronounce in this land) was also a young Argonian, only 19 summers, but had made a name for herself of a sorts in the darker parts of Argonia, however, her loyalty was never to clan,race, or home, but to the highest bidder and the Dunmer target had paidd her price, and Swims-Faster was given to them as a trophy, and subsequently captured and enslaved by his target family and sold to a curious House Telvanni wizard, who kept him as an oddity and eventually noticed his talent with Conjuration. He was then shown more of the secrets of that magical art and after two years, escaped the mushroom compound, only to have to flee Morrowind, away from his homeland, and for the last two years he has been tracking Quickkils, and the last Swims'Faster had been able to gather, there was an Argonian living in Riften, operating an inn, and her description is as close to Quickkils as he has found in months.
Character: Swims'Faster is very pragmatic and secretive, never giving more away than is necessary to get to the next destination. He sleeps away from others given the chance, and although he detests the cold, he refuses to leave should there be a chance that Quickkills is here in Skyrim. He appreciates any training he can get for Conjuration, relishes the few chances he gets to match spear with blade, and loves the excitement one gets from the hunt. He has a special dislike for Dunmer, Khajjit, and the Empire. He prefers to run anyplace he can, as he has an aversion to mounts because of his Dunmer masters. The few he will call his comrades can expect nothing short of complete and utter loyalty, but beware those that call him friend and betray him. His loyalty is first to clan,then homeland, then current companions. He believes in giving his opponent a quick death, should they fight to kill, before raising them from the dead to continue to fight for him if they have friends that have a problem with the duel. Has no complication in dealing with Dremora or Oblivion-tainted things, so long as he can kill Quickkills.
Reason for going to the inn: it's on the way to Riften, and Swims'Faster is going there to exact revenge, but it got too dark and the inn was there.
Profession: Professional Mercenary, Conjuror
Well, tell me if you have a problem with any of it and I'll move some stuff around.
Backstory: A Redguard with a very average upbringing. He was trained in combat by his farther, he trained well but was always very weak on the attack. At the age of 20 he accepted that he was a poor fighter and turned his attention towards magic, being more of a pacifist he chose to indulge in alteration. His skill in magic lead him to enchanting, this way he stood much more of a chance against his opponents. With this he built a profession, taking great interest in steel with magical properties. Over his years of being an enchanter many rare and unique weapons have passed his hands.
He rose to fame during the time of the dragons (Skyrim). At the age of 30 he employed a small group of specialized men and went on a routine dungeon dive, this lead to a great treasure. Now at the age of 34, he looks for yet another team, a team to uncover a very sacred artifact.
Character: His very deep voice gives him presence in the room, he speaks and acts like a very powerful man. Calm and deep-thinking, he is a below average fighter but armed with heavy enchantments and alteration magic it will take more than a few measly bandits to take him down.
Appearance: Somewhat taller than the average imperial with dark hair and green eyes. Rather lean all around. Typically wears an enchanted black cloak, but will wear light armor if the situation calls for it. Carries a black, silver-topped and quite potent lightning staff. He has only one piece of jewelry, a silver ring on his left hand with the symbol of a soaring raven. No one knows what, if any, properties it possesses.
Equipment: One Lightning Staff, One steel dagger, One set of enchanted black robes (enchantment- +50% to magicka regeneration, -20% cost to illusion spells), and one set of civilian clothes.
Abilities: Zavier is a master of illusion magic, able to deceive his foes into doing what he wants. In addition he is a shrewd businessman and negotiator, Zavier is usually able to bring people around to his way of thinking with his silver tongue. In combat he prefers to sneak in the shadows, outside the line of fire, and wait for an opportunity to take down an opponent with one quick strike. Zavier also has an affinity for conjuration when battles truly begin to heat up.
Class: Shadowcaster
Main Class: Mage
Back Story: Zavier grew up poor in the Imperial City. He was a very solitary child, often alone with his thoughts. Despite the limitations of his station, Zavier was determined to succeed. At age 12 he began an apprenticeship with one of the eminent merchants in the city, Galtrin Drake. Galtrin, a self-made man himself, sympathized with the young, ambitious boy and taught Zavier everything he knew. Within a few years, Zavier had become an accomplished wordsmith and, his master also being an associate of the Thieves' Guild, a fair spy. However, Zavier's dreams still went further. After finishing his apprenticeship he applied to the Arcane University, where he threw himself into the work of becoming a master of magic. An enthusiastic student, Zavier quickly mastered the basic concepts of all the arcane schools and steadily became more proficient in using them. However, he was puzzled by some of the university's seemingly arbitrary guidelines, such as forbidding study of the dark arts. Naturally curious, Zavier began experimenting with necromancy in secret. Once his education with the university ended Zavier left to amass his fortune.
Personality: Serious, cynical, sarcastic, intelligent and cunning. Zavier learned growing up that he was in competition with everyone and they were in competition with him. He has no time for those he doesn't see as worthy opponents. Despite this, he is rather reliable to those few he considers his friends.
Reason for Arrival: Zavier came to Skyrim for the sea of opportunity that the war provided. With his talents and ambition he naturally drifted toward Riften, Skyrim's center of commerce. It seemed worthwhile to investigate this odd new inn that was opening up...
Appearance: Has gold eyes, grey fur, with black stripes that follow his jawline, and a white muzzle. Approx 5'8" and 155 pounds, lean build and fairly well muscled.
Bio: Born on the Isle of Solstheim, in Raven Rock, into a family of slaves. This has lead to him to have an almost uncontrollable hatred of slave owners, traders, and anyone who supports said trade.
He managed to escape when he turned 14, because one of the guards had left a blade unwatched when he brought them their evening meal. Raksada managed to steal the dagger without being noticed, and when they unlocked his shackles in the morning, killed the guard. He freed his parents, and fled to Skyrim. His parents continued on to Cyrodiil, but he stayed in Skyrim, finding the cooler climate more to his liking than the more mild one further south.
He wandered from town to town, leaving when the guards started to catch on to him. He finally ended up in Rifton, where he was recruited into the Thieves guild by Brynjolf. This was a very profitable arrangement for them both. It provided Raksada with a way to avoid jail time, and Brynjolf with a skilled thief.
Raksada can usually be found in the various inns and taverns in and around Rifton, and acts as one of the contractors for the guild.
Personality: Has a rather carefree attitude about life, always having a smart-ass comment about how much worse it could get. Will steal just about anything that has value and isn't nailed down, and if left alone long enough, he'll get that too.
He is always loyal to his friends, and will often jump into harms way to get them out of it. Raksada will go out of his way to free slaves, and prefers to kill the slavers at the same time, to prevent them to continue the practice.
Why he entered that tavern: He saw that it was finished being built, and figured it would be another decent location to get contracts for the guild.
Equipment: Studded leather armor, usually doesn't wear a helm. Prefers to use a bow, but when forced he switches to a sword and dagger.
Equipment: Skyforge steel Greatsword, skyforge steel dagger, Imperial bow and steel arrows. He is wearing steel plate armor and doesn't have a helmet.
Abilities: Two Handed, Archery, Speech, Heavy Armor.
Class: Ranger (Rangers are woodland warriors, woodsmen and hunters, highly adept at tracking, survival and finding their way through the wilderness of Tamriel. Rangers are adept at the utilization of most types of armor and weapons.)
Main Class: Warrior
Backstory: When Jarek was very young he lived in the Imperial city, for reasons he never learned he was soon moving out to live in the wilderness of Skyrim with his father. Just a small cabin and all the food they could hunt, it was a very solitary life. Jarek became an excellent ranger just like his father. Jarek didn't resent this life, he came to love nature and loving yet sometimes cruel attitude it seemed to have. Jarek's father died when he was 15, he was simply an old man and passed in his sleep. Jarek moved in with his uncle on his father's wishes, his uncle was a lazy old man living in Solitude. Jarek left his uncles house and joined the Legion within the week. He would occasionally visit his uncle, if for nothing more than a conversation, the man had a sharp tongue and wit, Jarek learned things about speechcraft that his kind, strong father could have never taught him. Jarek rose through the ranks of the Legion at first but ended up only getting so far because he didn't have the right mentality to be a leader, despite most of the men he fought with looking up to him. He wouldn't follow orders blindly which his commanding officers hated.
Personality: Jarek is fair to most, you naturally start out on his good side and as long as you don't stray into too dark territories you usually tend to stay there. He is wise for his age, he tries to keep a level head and an open mind. Some of his fellow brothers in arms in the Legion described him as having ice water in his veins, "Jarek never sweats, he is so cool, no matter how thick the pressure or impossible the odds, he keeps going, he rallies the men and does what has to be done, I've never seen him break a sweat."
Why you just entered the inn: Jarek walks the routes often, hadn't seen it before and was curious, thought it was worth getting a pint and seeing if the place was any good.
Profession: He finds missing things, nothing glamorous about it, Jarek's life is kind of dull right now, he ended his service with the Legion honorably but has yet to find something worthwhile to do for the rest of his days, so he offers to find missing jewels, weapons, people, it really doesn't matter to him, people pay him a decent wage because he is damn good at it.
(This is my first RP on here, so if you have any tips or see me doing something wrong don't hesitate to let me know!)
sorry, couldn't get the image command to work so here's the first one: http://media.photobucket.com/image/argonian/LordGeass/awesomegonian.jpg?o=22,
and here's the second one: http://media.photobucket.com/image/skyrim%20argonian/qingyun1/Skyrim/2011-11-27_00020.jpg?o=31 the second picture is what i'm aiming for, kind of like the argonian picture at the top
Name: Swims'Faster (not his real name, but what he goes by here for the sake of simplicity, it's easier to pronounce.)
Race: Argonian
Age: 19
Equipment:skyforge steel Spear(skyforge greatsword if spears can't be used), 2 daggers,light scale armor (real scales, i would assume to be the equivelent of city guard armor, it's just easier to move with scales than heavier stuff),no helmet, javelin, buckler strapped to his forearm
Backstory: raised in Black Marsh, Swims'Faster was one of the few born under the sign of the Shadow that was trained in the old ways, learning the arts of stealth and murder from a young age. He developed a thirst for the magic of the school of Conjuration and showed an aptitude for it beyond that which his mentor could safely teach to him, sadly, all other schools of magic were closed to him as he had not the skill in claiming their energies for himself. He grew to love the fighting style of the spear and javelin, devoting all his time and energy away from the art of murder to his new way of fighting, mixing in what he believes to be the perfect synergy of the three. When he was 15, he was chosen as one of the few to sneak into Dunmer territory and kill one of three noble families responsible for an earlier attack on his clan.His partner for the mission was chosen as well, Quickkills(again, easier to pronounce in this land) was also a young Argonian, only 19 summers, but had made a name for herself of a sorts in the darker parts of Argonia, however, her loyalty was never to clan,race, or home, but to the highest bidder and the Dunmer target had paidd her price, and Swims-Faster was given to them as a trophy, and subsequently captured and enslaved by his target family and sold to a curious House Telvanni wizard, who kept him as an oddity and eventually noticed his talent with Conjuration. He was then shown more of the secrets of that magical art and after two years, escaped the mushroom compound, only to have to flee Morrowind, away from his homeland, and for the last two years he has been tracking Quickkils, and the last Swims'Faster had been able to gather, there was an Argonian living in Riften, operating an inn, and her description is as close to Quickkils as he has found in months.
Character: Swims'Faster is very pragmatic and secretive, never giving more away than is necessary to get to the next destination. He sleeps away from others given the chance, and although he detests the cold, he refuses to leave should there be a chance that Quickkills is here in Skyrim. He appreciates any training he can get for Conjuration, relishes the few chances he gets to match spear with blade, and loves the excitement one gets from the hunt. He has a special dislike for Dunmer, Khajjit, and the Empire. He prefers to run anyplace he can, as he has an aversion to mounts because of his Dunmer masters. The few he will call his comrades can expect nothing short of complete and utter loyalty, but beware those that call him friend and betray him. His loyalty is first to clan,then homeland, then current companions. He believes in giving his opponent a quick death, should they fight to kill, before raising them from the dead to continue to fight for him if they have friends that have a problem with the duel. Has no complication in dealing with Dremora or Oblivion-tainted things, so long as he can kill Quickkills.
Reason for going to the inn: it's on the way to Riften, and Swims'Faster is going there to exact revenge, but it got too dark and the inn was there.
Profession: Professional Mercenary, Conjuror
Well, tell me if you have a problem with any of it and I'll move some stuff around.
Anoke is green-scaled, with iced blue Argonian eyes. Over his light armor is a simple robe shown in the picture. He usually uses his spear as a walking stick, though can holster it on his back if need be. On his belt, numerous leather satchel and pouches give hint to a trade in alchemy, and he wears thick, leather boots on his clawed feet. His spear is a simple light-brown wood, topped by a steel blade. Battle-worn, but sturdy. A belt of throwing knives lines his chest.
Class: Alchemist
Main Class: Warrior
Skills: Spears (Two-handed?), Alchemy, Light-Armor, Thrown (I don't know what ES game you're using for rules. Morrowind had thrown and spears.)
Bio: Born in the deep swamps of Black Marsh, Anoke is kin to many shadowscales. However, he himself was born under a different star, and thus was distanced from his brothers and sisters. His parents loved him though, and his father play-fought him from an early age, showering stories of honourable warriors and glorious battles. His childhood was shaped around these tales, and he became more and more persistent in the acquisition of a weapon. In the end, his father gave up, forging him his first spear for his fifteenth birthday. Anoke has carried it ever since, though his jab has become progressively stronger. His only friend, Jo-Zar, was born to a similar predicament. Living only a short distance away, Anoke would spend most of his time with Jo, both aspiring to be true warriors. His mother, meanwhile, taught him basic alchemy. How to crush certain herbs together to treat wounds, or smear spiders-blood on his weapon to drain an opponent. He took to it with difficult at first, but persistence has proved the victor, and he still carries his mothers mortar and pestle.
When skirmishers began to leave Blackmarsh in hopes of conquering land, Anoke was the first to go with them. He sought to bring honour to his family, and prove his worth as a son. His countless hours training meant he excelled on the battle field, killing many with hones and precise katas. An ambush of Dunmer jumped both Anoke and Jo-Zar. They fought fiercely, but Jo fell to a stray arrow, laying still on the ground. Anoke shed a tear, taking his friends throwing knives, hoping to find the Dunmer one day, who deserves one in his head.
Personality: Anoke is a quiet, but happy Argonian. He is increasingly optimistic and supportive of those around him. He has a light-heart, and with it, he is able to cheer himself up. However, this can and has upset others in more serious predicaments, his good nature leading to blatant optimism.
In battle, he is silent. Never screaming bloodthirsty shouts, nor even grunting with a spear thrust.
Equipment: Light armour covered by the robe shown in the picture. Alchemy set with some basic herbs. Throwing knives and spear.
Equipment: Crossbow, Orcish Sword, Orcish Warhammer, numerous daggers for throwing/wielding.
Armor: Full, custom, fitted Orcish Armor w/custom helm and tattered, hooded cloak.
Abilities: Two-handed, One-handed, Heavy Armor, Smithing
Class: Assassin
Main Class: Warrior
Backstory: Born in Orsinium into a family of blacksmiths and merchants, Faulgor lived a relatively normal life as he was growing up. He took great interest in Orcish weaponry as he began working with his father, though not solely in the crafting of it but the in use of it as well. He took up training with one of the guardsmen that his father knew personally and in a few years time became an adept fighter, as well as the towering figure that he is today, impressing many of his peers in the process. Upon the discovery of his natural ability, he knew it could be put to good use and started taking up work as a mercenary. He didn't get his first taste for blood until he was hired to guard a merchant caravan that ended up facing a raid by bandits. Needless to say, the bandits stood little chance against the towering Orc and the few that lived didn't do so without injury. At that moment, he realized that he didn't mind getting his hands a little dirty; in fact, he enjoyed it. From then on, the work he sought grew more dangerous, accepting various bounties and contracts as a captor and killer. The the success of his endeavors and the amount of work he's done has made him respected and feared among those that know him.
Your character: Harsh, cutthroat businessman when it comes to such matters, though he isn't a made of stone and has a sense of humor which, at times, may seem cruel. His stature and overall demeanor cause many to mistake him as dim and uneducated, though he is well-versed in nearly all manner of speech and he keeps his wits as sharp as his blades, which are sharp enough to split hairs.
Why you just entered the inn: Currently employed as a bodyguard; watching over Sten.
Profession: Freelance Mercenary/Assassin
You enter the inn, it is a warm and pleasant place. There are two Nords sat drinking, both are quite loud, the woman behind the bar is also a Nord.. a quite good looking one at that.
Up on the balcony is a towering Orc (Mortis Nucius) and near the door you see an Argonian with ice blue eyes (Stegosaurus). They are both armed, it would be best if you behaved in here.
The sun is setting and another day comes to an end, the inn may just be well worth spending the night.. after all the beautiful barmaid is giving out free drinks as the inn has just opened.
Everybody, please come in.. sit down and talk to eachother.
When you have all arrived (I, Sten) will welcome you all.
The Orc and Argonian are my Guards, the rest of you i will later employ.
Stegosaurus and Mortis you may both mingle down below in the bar, you both have free food unlike the others.
The door opened and in walked a young man in black robes. The Nords looked at him suspiciously, even more so when he pulled down his hood to reveal he was an Imperial. Zavier had gotten used to such looks during the last year he had spent in Skyrim, though.
They were very suspicious of magic users, here, especially the stormcloaks. It didn't help that they also suspected every non-Nord of being an agent of the Empire, though Zavier had to admit that wasn't a completely groundless claim with regard to himself. While he didn't work for the Empire officially, he often did pass along information to the Legion when he thought it worth knowing.
Still, Zavier didn't let the looks discourage him. He approached the bar and got a free mug of ale. 'The Nords might not have much tact,' he thought, 'but the can brew one hell of an ale.' With that, he made his way to a table in the corner to drink in peace.
Abruptly one of the Nords stood up out of his chair, turning around he eyed up Zavier tempting himself to go over to him. However before he made a move.. the bar called his name, ha the joys of free Ale.
Swims-Faster walked into the warmth emanating from the welcoming door of the inn. He opened the door as he strapped his weapons to his back in two well made leather straps he'd gotten attached in Windhelm. The heat of the fire was welcoming after the last week on the road in this cold land, nothing at all like the swamps of Black Marsh. After noticing everyone in the bar, he called for a maid and walked towards the table nearest the fire. After ordering an ale, meal,and a brandy Swims'Faster took notice of the rest of the bar's occupants and made a gesture towards the Argonian in the room as a hello and kept his eyes on everyone else, on the off chance Quickkills came in.
"Doess anyone here know of the Argonianss in Riften that own an inn?", Swims-Faster asked the barmaid as she came by with his meal. He produced a charcoal and plant dye piece of parchment in the likeness of Quickkill,a female Argonian with two gold incisors and half-a-fin on the left side of her head, "Ssshee lookss like thisss, have you sseen her?"
Raksada stepped into the inn, shrugging off the evening cold. He eyed up the argonian next to the door, but determined that he wouldn't be a threat for the moment. The orc on the balcony concerned him slightly more, if only because he held the high ground. He stepped up to the bar and ordered a mug and some roast pheasant, before turning to regard the rest of the patrons.
This will be a fine inn to get business for the guild. he thought to himself. Raksada paid for his meal and headed to an unoccupied table in the corner, preferring to have some privacy while he looked the place over.
He overheard another argonian question the barmaid about the owners of another inn in town, and figured he'd try to listen in on that conversation if he could do it without being obvious. Wonder why he wants to know about them... Raksada thought, genuinely curious.
The pair of nords at the bar looked right at home here, as did the imperial, but it was the redguard that held his attention the most. He could tell even from this distance that his armor was heavily enchanted, and, from the way the argonian and the orc kept their eyes on anyone that went near him, that he was wealthy. Unfortunately, he had two guards, which meant that the odds of pulling a theft on him were slim. Perhaps another day, and there's always another mark if this one doesn't work out Raksada thought, deciding that a robbery in here would make more trouble than it was worth.
Jarek stood in the door wondering if the Nord knew just how lucky he was for staying away from the young man in the black robes, another Imperial from the looks of him, definitely a mage. He took the place in with an extended glance across the room, he was fairly impressed, there was clearly money to be had here. The icy blue stare of the nearby Argonian gave him the impression that a casual attitude should be maintained. He approached the bar, sitting directly in front of the pretty young bartender, if he played this right she would be eating out of his hand by the end of the hour. "I know you Nords can drink but you'll regret offering me free mead" Jarek said with a smirk, accepting his first mug of cold alcohol.
The barmaid looked at Swims-faster with a smile "Looks like you got the wrong place hun and that'll be 9 gold for the food and brandy. It's just the ale that's free"
She walks back to the serving both Raksada and Jarek, after giggling at Jareks remark she reached under the counter.
Upon Passing Swims-faster to collect her money she hands him a flyer.
"This might be the place your looking for, only been there once though.. don't take my word for it"
I know i'm running this but... does the GM normally control ALL NPC?
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