The Elder Scrolls: Frozen Rise (ES RP, sandbox, OOC, Open!)

[Alouite]

The Elder Scrolls
Frozen Rise: A Skyrim Sequel

IC

Background

Skyrim, 4E 211

Alduin is slain. Ambitions for the rebirth of a dragon-reigned empire have fallen. The apocalypse has been halted...for now. Yet dragons continue to roam the earth and scatter over the sprawling landscapes of Tamriel. Reports of dragon sightings have emerged as far west as the Summeret Isles and as far south as the seaward shores of Elswyr. Many of the beasts have proven somewhat docile under the meditative guidance of Paarthurnax. Regardless, the majority of the dragon population has taken to hiding in the cliffs -- far from the bloodthirsty blades of men.

A decade has passed. The Last Dragonborn vanished several years ago on an expedition to the abandoned wastelands of Atmora. He has not been heard from since. With the absence of a hero in the war-torn Nordic province, Ulfric and the Stormcloak hordes eventually overthrew their Imperial "oppressors." With the establishment of an official Moot, Ulfric was finally crowned High King of an independent Skyrim.

But High King Ulfric was to become no savior to the people.

For he was a tyrant in the eyes of many. Under his centralized reign, the Jarls lost overwhelming amounts of influence and sovereignty. The Holds became little more than meager client states of Solitude's throne. Perhaps this was necessary; a fully united Skyrim stood stronger against foreign aggression. But the vibrant tundra would soon be stained in blood. Ulfric, High King, butchered the Mer on levels unheard of in previous history. Vengeful Nords lay waste to the Thalmor Embassy and dragged innocent Elves onto the streets to be slain. Public executions became an everyday occurrence. All forms of power were blatantly shifted into the hands of Stormcloak-aligned Nords and Imperials.

It was the gruesome answer to the war crimes of the Dominion that were committed throughout the Great War. Skyrim's population of Mer was scorched from the kingdom's borders. Those Elves whom dared to stay were either forced into hiding or required to pay hefty tribute to the Nordic officials. As a result, public Elven figures are exclusively wealthy...as only they could afford the prices demanded by the Stormcloak government.

These events became known as the Decade of the Storm. Ulfric solidified his popularity amongst the Nordic populace through his nationalistic conquests and violent genocides. To some, he is a hero. To others, he is a monster. Now, political tensions are rising abroad. The Aldmeri Dominion is on the brink of a second war with the Empire, and talks of a Thalmor-backed invasion of Skyrim have flooded into every household in the land. Blood is bound to be shed.

But amidst the mounting chaos, another threat emerges. As it turns out, the apocalypse may not be so far. However, there may be hope! For in the blackened depths of Solitude's most fortified dungeons, a new shipment of prisoners has arrived. They may not yet know it, but their actions will come to reshape the entire world.

The RP


You are a prisoner of the Kingdom of Skyrim. Why? Well, the reasons for your incarceration are unknown. Perhaps it is destiny. But your fate lies beyond the darkened pits of Solitude's prison. Skyrim is about to be plunged into anarchy once more. Will you stop the madness...or will you fuel it?

The choice lies with you and you alone. This is a generally sandbox-style RP with a main storyline that will have an impact on all of your characters -- no matter who or where they are. Will you become a legendary warrior, or a secluded mage? Will you become a master of wealth, or a filthy beggar? Will you become a savior of the people, or a black-hearted assassin? Or, perhaps, will you be a combination of it all? Everything depends on your individual choices, just like in the Elder Scrolls games. You may rise to become the new High King, or fall to the depths of Tamriel's worst criminals. The power is in your hands.

I'll guide you guys along the way, but I'm not here to hold your hands. Be mature, and make sure the story is fucking awesome. If it makes sense for your character to die, he/she will die. Yes, you may become incredibly powerful. But, as all players of ES games know, you're never the most powerful being in Tamriel (unless you use cheats or mods ). Of course, there are no cheats or mods here. Purely storytelling.

Please fill out the app below to apply! Also, delete any parenthesizes I have included in the code, or else your character will NOT be accepted.

CODE: SELECT ALL
Full Name:
Age (Make it appropriate for your race. Nobody too old, i.e. thousands of years.):
Gender:
Race (MUST be one of the playable races in the ES games):
Appearance (Preferably a picture, but descriptions work as well. NO ANIME-STYLE PICTURES. I'm sorry, they just don't provide an accurate enough description. Art works, as long as it's realistic.):
Biography (Who are you? Where are you from? How did you become a prisoner in Solitude? AT LEAST two well-detailed paragraphs. Note that ALL of your bios must include how you ended up in Marakarth or Winterhold, the two places I will allow people to start in the RP at this point.):
Personality (Optional -- if you'd like to develop your character's personality over the course of the RP, that's fine.):
Previous RP's (Include link. This is required. If this is your first RP, give me an example of how you write. A few good paragraphs. No one-liners are accepted here.):


By filling out and submitting this app, you acknowledge that I may reject your application for any reasonable explanation. That being said, this is gonna be fun as hell.

Rules


I hate rules, but we all need 'em.

1. I'm in charge. My voice is all. If you have a problem with this, you're SOL.
2. NO godmodding. I hate when people godmod, dammit!
3. No one-liners whatsoever. And by that, I mean no one paragraph or several short lines kind of BS. We need long, complex posts. It makes the story more interesting, entertaining, and fun!
4. I reserve the right to reject your application based on poor grammar. I know many have reasons for poor grammar. That's fine. But if you're not a fluent English speaker with somewhat decent writing abilities, I'd like to kindly ask you not to sign up. It'll save us all time and trouble. Thanks!
5. Be kind and respectful to ALL other players in the OOC. If you have private quarrels, take it to TG. This is not the place, nor is the IC thread (Unless the quarrel lies with two characters. In that case, it's encouraged in the IC thread. )
6. Have a fucking sweet time.

Note*:This OOC was mostly written by Rudislavia, the majority of the credit goes to him

[Insaeldor]

Just transferring my App over to this thread

Full Name: Rarezen Diski
Age: 87
Gender: Male
Race: Dunmer
Appearance:

Biography: Rarezen was born in to an impoverished Dunner family in Windhelm whom were themselves refugees from Tear after the Red Year and subsequent Argonian invasion. He grew up discriminated and abused by his Nord rulers in the grey quarter. In his early teens he left home trying to escape his poverty traveling throughout Skyrim doing everything from a forgery apprenticeship in Riften to a Gravewatcher in Falkreath before he went to Winterhold. He had always had in intrest in magic but had never had a proper outlet for this intrest and upon hearing about a school of magic he had to try and enter. Upon being allowed entrance he quickly took to his studies and adapted very well to the distruction school and his time as a forger gave him a familiarity with blades making him unique among his colleagues and making him one of the few Battlemage's at the school.

After spending years at the college the winds of war took to Skyrim and remembering his live in the grey quarter Rarezen took up arms with the Imperial cause wishing better for his family and his people as well as fearful for what might happen to them in Ulfric were to win the war. Rarezen was a vital tool for his company being one if not only native battle age within the imperial ranks and had helped the command with Attack strategies. It was at the battle of Falkreath were during intense combat a Stormcloake took Rarezen's right arm loping it off with a clean sweep of his axe. While he lived through the ordeal his arm was irreparably damaged with his right arm missing from the elbow down.

It was however through ether the grace of the divines or sheer luck that Rarezen met Qorwynn an apprentice to Calcelmo and whom had experiance working with Dwemer technology. Qorwynn helped construct a replacement arm using his understanding of dwemer technology and magic and was done so as a favor to the imperials for saving him during a mass execution by Stormcloak officers. The hand uses a soul gem to work but said gem can be used to amplify ones magical ability which is what Rarezwn did. During the battle of Solitude Rarezen used his new found arm to great ability but was swarmed and caught by Stromcloak rebels before he was arrested and sentenced to death by a Stormcloak trial and now he waits for death to take him.
Personality: Ratezen a wise old man in the making. He is very calm and collected making him prized on the battle field and has a fatherly presence about him.
Previous RP's: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=319274

[Alouite]

Just transferring my App over to this thread

Full Name: Rarezen Diski
Age: 87
Gender: Male
Race: Dunmer
Appearance:

(Image)

Biography: Rarezen was born in to an impoverished Dunner family in Windhelm whom were themselves refugees from Tear after the Red Year and subsequent Argonian invasion. He grew up discriminated and abused by his Nord rulers in the grey quarter. In his early teens he left home trying to escape his poverty traveling throughout Skyrim doing everything from a forgery apprenticeship in Riften to a Gravewatcher in Falkreath before he went to Winterhold. He had always had in intrest in magic but had never had a proper outlet for this intrest and upon hearing about a school of magic he had to try and enter. Upon being allowed entrance he quickly took to his studies and adapted very well to the distruction school and his time as a forger gave him a familiarity with blades making him unique among his colleagues and making him one of the few Battlemage's at the school.

After spending years at the college the winds of war took to Skyrim and remembering his live in the grey quarter Rarezen took up arms with the Imperial cause wishing better for his family and his people as well as fearful for what might happen to them in Ulfric were to win the war. Rarezen was a vital tool for his company being one if not only native battle age within the imperial ranks and had helped the command with Attack strategies. It was at the battle of Falkreath were during intense combat a Stormcloake took Rarezen's right arm loping it off with a clean sweep of his axe. While he lived through the ordeal his arm was irreparably damaged with his right arm missing from the elbow down.

It was however through ether the grace of the divines or sheer luck that Rarezen met Qorwynn an apprentice to Calcelmo and whom had experiance working with Dwemer technology. Qorwynn helped construct a replacement arm using his understanding of dwemer technology and magic and was done so as a favor to the imperials for saving him during a mass execution by Stormcloak officers. The hand uses a soul gem to work but said gem can be used to amplify ones magical ability which is what Rarezwn did. During the battle of Solitude Rarezen used his new found arm to great ability but was swarmed and caught by Stromcloak rebels before he was arrested and sentenced to death by a Stormcloak trial and now he waits for death to take him.
Personality: Ratezen a wise old man in the making. He is very calm and collected making him prized on the battle field and has a fatherly presence about him.
Previous RP's: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=319274

Accepted. Well, not accepted by Nordic society, but you get what I meant.

[Insaeldor]

Just transferring my App over to this thread

Full Name: Rarezen Diski
Age: 87
Gender: Male
Race: Dunmer
Appearance:

(Image)

Biography: Rarezen was born in to an impoverished Dunner family in Windhelm whom were themselves refugees from Tear after the Red Year and subsequent Argonian invasion. He grew up discriminated and abused by his Nord rulers in the grey quarter. In his early teens he left home trying to escape his poverty traveling throughout Skyrim doing everything from a forgery apprenticeship in Riften to a Gravewatcher in Falkreath before he went to Winterhold. He had always had in intrest in magic but had never had a proper outlet for this intrest and upon hearing about a school of magic he had to try and enter. Upon being allowed entrance he quickly took to his studies and adapted very well to the distruction school and his time as a forger gave him a familiarity with blades making him unique among his colleagues and making him one of the few Battlemage's at the school.

After spending years at the college the winds of war took to Skyrim and remembering his live in the grey quarter Rarezen took up arms with the Imperial cause wishing better for his family and his people as well as fearful for what might happen to them in Ulfric were to win the war. Rarezen was a vital tool for his company being one if not only native battle age within the imperial ranks and had helped the command with Attack strategies. It was at the battle of Falkreath were during intense combat a Stormcloake took Rarezen's right arm loping it off with a clean sweep of his axe. While he lived through the ordeal his arm was irreparably damaged with his right arm missing from the elbow down.

It was however through ether the grace of the divines or sheer luck that Rarezen met Qorwynn an apprentice to Calcelmo and whom had experiance working with Dwemer technology. Qorwynn helped construct a replacement arm using his understanding of dwemer technology and magic and was done so as a favor to the imperials for saving him during a mass execution by Stormcloak officers. The hand uses a soul gem to work but said gem can be used to amplify ones magical ability which is what Rarezwn did. During the battle of Solitude Rarezen used his new found arm to great ability but was swarmed and caught by Stromcloak rebels before he was arrested and sentenced to death by a Stormcloak trial and now he waits for death to take him.
Personality: Ratezen a wise old man in the making. He is very calm and collected making him prized on the battle field and has a fatherly presence about him.
Previous RP's: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=319274

Accepted. Well, not accepted by Nordic society, but you get what I meant.

Oh I do. Woe is me! *falks to knees dramatically*

[Servinta]

Full Name:Volvar Divanok
Age:50
Gender:Male
Race:Nord
Appearance:

Biography:
Once considered a strong religious leader for the Stormcloak rebellion, Volvar was know for his passionate speeches about the power of Talos and the gods desire to see Skyrim free to worship whomever they pleased.This was during the civil war aginst the Stormcloaks and the Imperials, which had restricted the worship of Talos as a divine being and in Volvars eyes kept the people of Skyrim from being able to openly praise their god without fear of imprisonment or torture.His main protection aginst Imperial imprisonment while traveling across Skyrim was his cadre of loyal followers and his "Gifted" powers of magic to which he credited Talos with the healing spells he would use to cure the sick and ease the dying.With his skills and dedicated core of followers he entered the field of battle on several occasions to support and defend those warriors who were risking their lives for freedom and was known to have smite several dozen men from this earth in his rage aginst the oppressive Imperials.After the war was won he was honored as a hero of the Nord's and a savior of countless lives for his healing of the soldiers and killing of the enemy.

His ascent to heroic standing was soon followed by a steep fall into the abyss as he continued to travel and preach his view of Taloses divinity to all that would listen, weather they be Nord or otherwise.This acceptance of all races into the Talos religion soon gained him enemies in the ruling goverment and made him an outcast to those who saw only Nords as the deserving race, and while he did feel that Taloses strength was with the Nords of Skyrim, he also felt that the god's philosophy of freedom was not restricted to the Nordic people alone.This eventually found him going aginst "Skyrims Collective Vision" and with his protest of treachery aginst Taloses teachings and the warping of the rebellions original goals, he was arrested for disturbing the peace and inciting counter-rebellion attitudes in the good people of Skyrim.For this he was to be executed and shown as an example to those that would seek to object to the new regime's treatment of the other races, but thankfully his exploits around Skyrim had gained him a small following of sympathetic Nords who's opinion saved him from the axe only to send him into Solitude's most fortified dungeons instead, where it was hoped he would either reconsider his opinion and vocally support Ulfric's means of rule or that he would languish and die in the depths of the complex.There he began to contemplate his actions during the war and after several "consultations" with his god, he realized that his heart was in the right but that his fellow Nords had become to bitter from the loss of their loved ones to realize what they had become.

Personality:A kind hearted soul who has sought to bury his peoples sins with the teaching of Talos and his patron deity's rules of just governance along with civil society, Through this view of acceptance to all of the beings of the land, weather they be Redguard, Mer, or the races such as Khajiit and Argonian.This has not sat well with some of his more radical brethren and while tempting to deny his friendship with the "Other Races" he has stood fast to his gods belief that all deserve equal treatment.He is also known for his comedic antics that keep the children of the land from losing hope where the adults have and while not as young as he used to be he still has the sparkle of adventure and discovery in his eyes.

Previous RP's:
viewtopic.php?f=31&t=313252
viewtopic.php?f=5&t=309579
viewtopic.php?f=5&t=316899

[Dain II Ironfoot]

Full Name: Kurmash gro-Atubush
Age: 36
Gender: Male
Race: Orsimer
Appearance: Pic
Biography: Kurmash was born in a small village not too far from the destroyed city of Orsinium. His father was a hunter and traded his catch with the local villagers. Aside from a father Kurmash also had a mother, a little sister and two older brothers. In his early years Kurmash always liked to hang out with his two brothers, doing all kinds of stuff that they probably shouldn't have. His father thought him how to hunt and his mother thought him how to grow Vegetables.
Kurmash's father was an outspoken supporter of an independent Orsinium and this caused the family often alot of problems. Kurmash remembers that their home had been burned down many times during the first 15 years of his life.

All of that came to an end one day as soldiers from the Empire came along an arrested Kurmash's father, claiming that he was planning to set up a rebellion against the Empire. The older brothers of Kurmash tried to free their father from the local prison two days before his execution but they failed and got killed during their attempt.
Out of fear Kurmash's mother took Kurmash and his little sister away from the village, into the mountains. From there they tried to set up a living of their own, growing vegetables and hunting to keep themselves fed.

For almost a decade the three lived in the mountains peacefully, being only disturbed by travellers once every few months.
At some day a relative came by, telling a horrible story about what had happend. The Empire had chased down many Orsimers near Orsinium, including several other relatives of Kurmash. Those Orsimers where all charged on plotting against the Empire though the relative feared a genocide was about to happen. Kurmash could not stand by idly while his kin would be executed. Together with this relative of his Kurmash went to a secret meeting where he was greeted by several other Orsimers that had managed to avoid being caught by the Empire. A total of 20 where present at the meeting and together they forged a plan to free their kin. On the day of the execution the Orsimers where brought out of the prison to line up. Outside there where many watching, on one side there where other Orsimers and on the other side there where loyalists from the Empire. Kurmash and the 20 Orsimers where also present amongst the croud and once the names where being read they attacked. It didn't took long before the first Empire guards fell down to the ground covered in blood and soon after the Orsimer bystanders joined in on the fight. The day that they freed their kin became the day that Kurmash got to call himself an adult.

After they freed the Orsimers they fled the region in fear out of more attacks and for some years they wandered around through High Rock and Hammerfell while working as mercenaries. Once Kurmash became 32 there where only six Orsimers left in the group. Others had departed along the way or had died during one of the many battles. Kurmash had enough of the life they led at that point. He wanted to live free and as his father he started to get ideas of a free and independent Orsinium.
Not long after he became 34 he set out with the six that where left to start finding allies. Skyrim had become home to many Orsimers and it became the first place where the six would start their search, this however ended in a different way then Kurmash thought. Kurmash had heard of the Rebellion and figured that they would be eager to support a simular action in High Rock.
As he and the six others arrived in Skyrim they decided to split up to make it easier. Kurmash's little sister would start on the far east together with two others while Kurmash and the remaining two would start in the west.

Eventually Kurmash never reached the first stronghold, he and his companions where led into an ambush by the stormcloaks and one of the companions got killed before Kurmash and the other where forced to surrender.
While in custody Kurmash explained his story and his goal as he actually counted upon the support of the Stormcloaks. This support never came for an unknown reason and eventually Kurmash was thrown into jail becouse (according to the Stormcloaks) he tried to set up a rebellion against Ulfric. Untill this day he does not know what happend to his last companion nor does he know if the same happend to his little sister and the two that travelled with her.

Personality: Kurmash used to be a calm and smart Orsimer, he knew what he did and why he did it. Today he has become a cold, heartless man who doesn't care about others anymore. In fact, the only one he still cares about is his little sister. He is still good to people who are of use to him until he has no need for them anymore, the hard life in prison pretty much ate all of his personality away.

Previous RP's: http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?p=23135586#p23135586

[Alouite]

Both Accepted.

[Servinta]

whoo hoo

[Nuxipal]

Full Name:Sylri Fyr
Age: 59
Gender: Female
Race: Dunmer (Dark Elf)
Appearance: Sylri
Biography: Sylri, and all of her siblings, were born on Vvardenfell, or so they all say. She is a 'Daughter' of Divayth Fyr, though is truly a female clone of him. Like her father, Sylri is skilled in magic. However, like all of his other daughters she has a slightly different traits. She and her batch sisters, Ulverys and Tylisa, all studied with their father in his private study. However, it was here that she began having problems with her sisters. First she and Ulverys got into an arguement that had to be broken up by Divayth when they were 16. A year later Sylri and Tylisa got into a fight so intense that they destroyed one of the small spires on the Tower they lived in.

It was after this fight that Divayth made up his mind. Ulverys would stay. Tylisa and Sylri had to leave, immediately. Of course, they blamed each other and proceeded to argue and fight. Sylri had always been a better fighter both with and without weapons. She killed her sister and burned the ship they were crossing to Tel Mithryn on. She, being a Telvanni mage, instead just walked the rest of the way to Windhelm. She spent time in the Grey Quarter for several years becoming a renown spell caster there and eventually wandered the surrounding countryside gathering rare ingredients for potions and the like. That is when the war came. The Empire was attacked by the Aldmeri Dominion. Sylri, along with all of the other Dark Elves in the Grey Quarter refused to go to war for the Empire, which stood by and let their homeland be invaded by Argonians. Here, there was little distinction between Telvanni, Redoran, Hlaalu, Dres, and Indoril.

Sylri was one of the more outspoken voices in this resistance and as soon as it was learned that she was the daughter of a known Telvanni Sorcerer, and one of the oldest beings in Tamriel, known to have been born in the first Era and gaining in magical strength since then even founding his own Telvanni Tower. Because of this, the Dark Elves were not forced to fight in the Great War. When the White Gold Concordat was signed, the nobility of Skyrim looked to the Grey Quarter and was quick to blame Sylri Fyr for stopping what could have been the recruitment ground of the best mages left in Tamriel.

Things became more heated nearly three decades later. Now in her forties, not even an adult by Telvanni standards, she once again advocated neutrality with the Dunmer, but this time she was overruled. The Dunmer hated the Imperials more than the Nords did. Thus she joined a small unit of stormcloaks to protect the half dozen or so Dunmer from her own part of the Grey Quarter that had signed up to go. She found that the pay was pretty good for the stormcloak soldiers, and being made an officer over the other Dunmer made it even better. However, her time in the war was coming to an end soon. She participated in the battle at Whiterun, her soldiers found a back entrance and forced their way up to Dragonsreach through a hidden cave beneath the dungeons. She used her levitate to get into the tunnel and let a rope down. Her spearmen handed the few guards with ease and ambushed the Jarl there as the outer gates fell. Her band of Dunmer captured Dragonsreach before the Stormcloak army ever reached the Cloud District.

After the battle one of the generals was very drunk, as nords tend to get after a battle. He began saying derogatory things about the Dunmer in Windhelm and how they couldn't even fight on the front lines. He had been very disrespectful towards the Dunmer the whole campaign. He continued ranting about how pathetic they are as fighters and eventually Sylri had to do something. She stood up and challenged him to a duel to defend the honor of her people. Too drunk to realize how serious she was he laughted and ordered her to sit back down before he showed her what a real spear could do. Her response was swift, too fast for anyone to react. She took her spear and removed his. The eyes of the other officers went wide as the general screamed in pain. Instead of attacking her they tried to get away. She let them, she cast her levitate spell and flew out of the camp.

Some years later, High King Ulfric was crowned. He began to round up all of the non-nords who were in Skyrim, blaming them for the problems of his new found nation. Sylri was captured in her sleep. She decided that she could afford time in prison and was planning her escape. She had an enormous quantity of spells memorized from her time at Tel Fyr and even more still since she left.


Personality: Sylri is dedicated and loyal to any cause she pursues. She is extremely confident in her abilities as a mage and would bet on herself in any stand up magic fight. She however suffers from a sense of abandonment due to her own father ordering her to never set foot in Tel Fyr again. She seeks power through knowledge as any true Telvanni mage would. As such, she has a deep interest in Science. Romantically she has never been interested in such things nor has she had any knowledge of anyone being interested in her. In dealing with any kind of adversity she is known to be quite ruthless.

Previous RP's: One Two Three

[Alouite]

Full Name:Sylri Fyr
Age: 59
Gender: Female
Race: Dunmer (Dark Elf)
Appearance: Sylri
Biography: Sylri, and all of her siblings, were born on Vvardenfell, or so they all say. She is a 'Daughter' of Divayth Fyr, though is truly a female clone of him. Like her father, Sylri is skilled in magic. However, like all of his other daughters she has a slightly different traits. She and her batch sisters, Ulverys and Tylisa, all studied with their father in his private study. However, it was here that she began having problems with her sisters. First she and Ulverys got into an arguement that had to be broken up by Divayth when they were 16. A year later Sylri and Tylisa got into a fight so intense that they destroyed one of the small spires on the Tower they lived in.

It was after this fight that Divayth made up his mind. Ulverys would stay. Tylisa and Sylri had to leave, immediately. Of course, they blamed each other and proceeded to argue and fight. Sylri had always been a better fighter both with and without weapons. She killed her sister and burned the ship they were crossing to Tel Mithryn on. She, being a Telvanni mage, instead just walked the rest of the way to Windhelm. She spent time in the Grey Quarter for several years becoming a renown spell caster there and eventually wandered the surrounding countryside gathering rare ingredients for potions and the like. That is when the war came. The Empire was attacked by the Aldmeri Dominion. Sylri, along with all of the other Dark Elves in the Grey Quarter refused to go to war for the Empire, which stood by and let their homeland be invaded by Argonians. Here, there was little distinction between Telvanni, Redoran, Hlaalu, Dres, and Indoril.

Sylri was one of the more outspoken voices in this resistance and as soon as it was learned that she was the daughter of a known Telvanni Sorcerer, and one of the oldest beings in Tamriel, known to have been born in the first Era and gaining in magical strength since then even founding his own Telvanni Tower. Because of this, the Dark Elves were not forced to fight in the Great War. When the White Gold Concordat was signed, the nobility of Skyrim looked to the Grey Quarter and was quick to blame Sylri Fyr for stopping what could have been the recruitment ground of the best mages left in Tamriel.

Things became more heated nearly three decades later. Now in her forties, not even an adult by Telvanni standards, she once again advocated neutrality with the Dunmer, but this time she was overruled. The Dunmer hated the Imperials more than the Nords did. Thus she joined a small unit of stormcloaks to protect the half dozen or so Dunmer from her own part of the Grey Quarter that had signed up to go. She found that the pay was pretty good for the stormcloak soldiers, and being made an officer over the other Dunmer made it even better. However, her time in the war was coming to an end soon. She participated in the battle at Whiterun, her soldiers found a back entrance and forced their way up to Dragonsreach through a hidden cave beneath the dungeons. She used her levitate to get into the tunnel and let a rope down. Her spearmen handed the few guards with ease and ambushed the Jarl there as the outer gates fell. Her band of Dunmer captured Dragonsreach before the Stormcloak army ever reached the Cloud District.

After the battle one of the generals was very drunk, as nords tend to get after a battle. He began saying derogatory things about the Dunmer in Windhelm and how they couldn't even fight on the front lines. He had been very disrespectful towards the Dunmer the whole campaign. He continued ranting about how pathetic they are as fighters and eventually Sylri had to do something. She stood up and challenged him to a duel to defend the honor of her people. Too drunk to realize how serious she was he laughted and ordered her to sit back down before he showed her what a real spear could do. Her response was swift, too fast for anyone to react. She took her spear and removed his. The eyes of the other officers went wide as the general screamed in pain. Instead of attacking her they tried to get away. She let them, she cast her levitate spell and flew out of the camp.

Some years later, High King Ulfric was crowned. He began to round up all of the non-nords who were in Skyrim, blaming them for the problems of his new found nation. Sylri was captured in her sleep. She decided that she could afford time in prison and was planning her escape. She had an enormous quantity of spells memorized from her time at Tel Fyr and even more still since she left.


Personality: Sylri is dedicated and loyal to any cause she pursues. She is extremely confident in her abilities as a mage and would bet on herself in any stand up magic fight. She however suffers from a sense of abandonment due to her own father ordering her to never set foot in Tel Fyr again. She seeks power through knowledge as any true Telvanni mage would. As such, she has a deep interest in Science. Romantically she has never been interested in such things nor has she had any knowledge of anyone being interested in her. In dealing with any kind of adversity she is known to be quite ruthless.

Previous RP's: One Two Three

I'll accept this. Your in.

[Insaeldor]

So we have two Dunmer mages who both grew up in the Grey Quarter and then both took part in the Civil War on opposite sides of the conflict and now we're in the same dungeon? This should get interesting

[Congreveopia]

Full Name: Delmar Varnalo
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Race: Redguard
Appearance: Hyperlink
Biography: As a boy, he worked at the forge in Solitude. He had a fairly normal childhood, playing, working, learning, until the war broke out in his mid-teens. The army needed strong men, and he certainly fit that bill after his time working the bellows and the grindstone, but they needed swords and armor too. His father eventually convinced the army to let him keep working at the forge, rather than take him to fight. It was early in the second year of the war when a soldier stopping off in town showed him a dwemer gyro he’d picked up after some battle. Delmar was enthralled. He had never seen craftsmanship so fine, nor metal forged with so little error. Moreover, he had never seen a device that so thoroughly confused him as to his purpose. The gyro sparked some hidden fire in him. He wanted to explore the world. A week later, he joined the army, and within a month, he was off to war.

War was not what he’d expected. He’d heard the stories of great imperial battles, of the slaughter of stormcloaks by the hundred, of daring ambushes and heroic victories. He’d heard the stories from the units that made it back to Solitude. He hadn’t heard the stories from the ones that didn’t. For the first few months, the war was rain, snow, and marching. Solitude was the seat of the imperial command because it wasn’t near the front lines, so Delmar’s unit had to march for ages to reach combat. The first battle, Delmar was near the back and never saw a moment of action. The unit never reached the second. In retrospect, Delmar realised the khajiit caravan that passed them probably sold their location to the Stormcloaks, and that’s how they set up the ambush. Regardless, all Delmar knew at the time was that he was walking through a valley with the rest of the unit, and then arrows were raining down from the hills around and the commander was shouting orders. Then the commander was shot, and a rush of Stormcloaks charged the group in the confusion. Delmar was pushed and shoved by the retreating imperials, and had to do all he could to avoid being trampled. Someone shoved him into a Stormcloak soldier, Delmar stabbed the enemy with his sword, then felt something pass through the leather armor covering his right leg and collapsed in pain. One of his comrades fell on top of him, an arrow through his head. Delmar lay there for over an hour, not daring to move, as the Stormcloaks slaughtered the imperials. When it seemed they had all gone, chasing down the remains of his unit, Delmar sat up and tried to treat the cut in his leg as best he could. He had finished bandaging and splinting it, and was looking for a spear or branch to use as a crutch when the Stormcloaks returned and took him prisoner. He worked as a slave in one of their forges until the end of the war, then got passed around from one grimy prison cell to another, eventually arriving here.


Personality: Fascinated with Dwemer technology, numb to the idea of being a prisoner because it’s been so long. Did a lot of fistfighting in prison, but he is scared of the idea of real combat fighting with swords, spells, etc. because of bad memories from his short time in the army. He’s sullen and reclusive now, but used to be cheerful and boisterous before the war and prison. Heavily distrustful of khajiit.
Previous RPs: http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=325447 (I’m Hale Isles)
http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=31&t=316363
http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=320943

[Servinta]

Someone tell that Flutterlands to remove the tag. (Uggh)

[Sulania]

Full Name: Alyanna Stroorard

Age: 23

Gender: Female

Race: Breton

Appearance:

(Image)

Biography: Alyanna Stroorard was born in the quiet city of Bruma, of the capital province of Cyrodiil, to Tuton Stroorard, a veteran in the Imperial Legion, and Fialine Stroorard, a small time merchant selling wares related to enchanting and transmutation magics. The family lived in the city of Bruma for several years until Tuton was called to serve in the campaign to retake Skyrim from the Stormcloak Rebellion. This led to falling out between him and Fialine, whom didn't want to go with him for fear of endangering young Alyanna and putting Tuton at even greater risk as he will fight in the front lines. The compromise was that the father would go to Skyrim alone, as Fialine takes care of Alyanna till her father's return.

Alyanna grew up under her mother's tutelage in commerce and trading in the assortment of magical wares her mother sold and bought, though her true passion came from reading the books on the magics her mother had. Becoming adept in the magical arts until she was accepted as a young apprentice in the College of Whispers in Cyrodiil, where she became an up and coming enchanter and conjurer. Her father, who was in Skyrim still fighting in the war, wrote letters to Alyanna during her studies in order to keep up to date with his daughter's exploits, along with to tell her he was still alright. Her mother visited her often, keeping her well informed of how lucrative the enchanting market is, hoping her daughter would rejoin with her and help make the trading business even more successful with its very own enchanter.

This, however, was soon ruined when, in the later years of the Stormcloak Rebellion, letters from her father ceased coming. Causing the young Breton to become distraught and depressed, fearing of her father's condition as he would never stop sending her letters unless something went wrong. Fearing the worst, but still wanting answers, Alyanna packed up some small belongings and left the College of Whispers quickly and without a word early in the morning. She arrived in Skyrim, slipping past the border by Markarth, which was still Imperial territory, by claiming that she was there on business for the College of Whispers. Caught up with holding off the Stormcloaks, mixed up with mere apathy over the matter, the Imperials let her go without much trouble beyond a statement that she was in Skyrim.

Her first place to go to was none other than Solitude, where she inquired to her father's whereabouts. She learned her father died in a skirmish in the Rift, killed by a Stormcloak named Lonnjolf Blackthorne. Filled with despair and a hunger for vengeance, she sought out the man who killed her father to bring justice to him. However, her plans were cut short when, on her way to Windhelm, her and a small caravan was attacked by a dragon. She was struck by awe at the sudden appearance of the creature, and paralyzed by fear when the beast came around and scorched the road with a great fire that killed most of her caravan and wounded and scarred her arm. She would have died that day if it wasn't for an unknown savior who appeared and slaughtered the dragon, only glimpsing him striking the killing blow until she passed out from exhaustion.

She was then saved by another person, of whom she never learned of, only that he wore a strange armor reflecting the armor of the Blades of old. She was brought to Riften, where she remained for a while, healing up and settling down for a while. She did odd jobs for the Court Wizard, Wylandriah, for several years. Within that time, the Great Alduin was slain and the Stormcloaks won their war for independence from the Empire. While she felt despair that the Empire will be eternally weakened by this, she felt there wasn't much to do about it and thus continued with her life.

She continued, however, until she found the location Lonnjolf Blackthorne, the man who killed her father long ago. Feeling the vengeance she felt long ago, she gave up her peaceful life in Riften and left immediately for Solitude where the man was posted. She saw the man, using what information she could and attempted to slay him. She was however stopped and arrested before she could carry out her plan. She now waits in the prison of Solitude, waiting for her sentence for attempted murder for a Stormcloak soldier. Which will likely be execution given that it was a Stormcloak she attempted to kill, and that she was a Breton and that means she was mixed with Elven blood. She just sits and waits, for her moment of escape, whether that be at the headman's block or through some other method.

Personality: Development is going to occur.

Starting personality is going to be relatively simple. Alyanna can be summed up as a hard yet practical woman. She is a very introverted person, preferring very little companions but will not turn away from big groups if they are necessary for her survival. She enjoys being around others that share her same interests, such as history and magic. She, despite this, enjoys helping others. She will often help others without asking for reward, but she will still accept a reward if it's offered or given. She isn't very social, often being the calm quiet one in a room.

When it comes to justice or vengeance, she is obsessed with it. Giving up her normal life to chase down her father's killer, she is obsessed with bringing justice to the man that wronged her long ago. She also listens to the plight of others, and feels that she should bring justice to those who have wronged others. She fills a vigilante role in that regard, disregarding laws in order to get what she feels is justice.

She doesn't hold much distaste for the actual Stormcloak government, but she greatly despises their extreme anti-Mer sentiment along with their very strong nationalist thinking. She feels that a land should be open to all races, and feels that not all Elves should hold the same reputation as the Thalmor, to which she holds disdain for. She goes with the Stormcloaks and will work with them if she feels it is necessary to her own goals, but would have been much happier if the Empire reclaimed Skyrim instead of the Stormcloaks claiming independence.

In terms of magic, she uses conjuration and destruction magic in combat. Though she'll also use her enchantment magic for weapons and armor, but otherwise uses it for trading as her mother taught her to. She prefers using small knives or swords that she summoned with her conjuration magic, wielding one in each hand. She prefers wearing lighter armor or robes, as it gives her more speed and versatility in combat.

Previous RP's:
Dragon Age: Origins IC
Assassin's Creed: Spring of Nations IC
Star Wars: Rise of an Empire IC
Mass Effect: Freedom Rising IC

From the last OOC, be here for easier access and your paroosal.

[Alouite]

Full Name: Alyanna Stroorard

Age: 23

Gender: Female

Race: Breton

Appearance:

(Image)

Biography: Alyanna Stroorard was born in the quiet city of Bruma, of the capital province of Cyrodiil, to Tuton Stroorard, a veteran in the Imperial Legion, and Fialine Stroorard, a small time merchant selling wares related to enchanting and transmutation magics. The family lived in the city of Bruma for several years until Tuton was called to serve in the campaign to retake Skyrim from the Stormcloak Rebellion. This led to falling out between him and Fialine, whom didn't want to go with him for fear of endangering young Alyanna and putting Tuton at even greater risk as he will fight in the front lines. The compromise was that the father would go to Skyrim alone, as Fialine takes care of Alyanna till her father's return.

Alyanna grew up under her mother's tutelage in commerce and trading in the assortment of magical wares her mother sold and bought, though her true passion came from reading the books on the magics her mother had. Becoming adept in the magical arts until she was accepted as a young apprentice in the College of Whispers in Cyrodiil, where she became an up and coming enchanter and conjurer. Her father, who was in Skyrim still fighting in the war, wrote letters to Alyanna during her studies in order to keep up to date with his daughter's exploits, along with to tell her he was still alright. Her mother visited her often, keeping her well informed of how lucrative the enchanting market is, hoping her daughter would rejoin with her and help make the trading business even more successful with its very own enchanter.

This, however, was soon ruined when, in the later years of the Stormcloak Rebellion, letters from her father ceased coming. Causing the young Breton to become distraught and depressed, fearing of her father's condition as he would never stop sending her letters unless something went wrong. Fearing the worst, but still wanting answers, Alyanna packed up some small belongings and left the College of Whispers quickly and without a word early in the morning. She arrived in Skyrim, slipping past the border by Markarth, which was still Imperial territory, by claiming that she was there on business for the College of Whispers. Caught up with holding off the Stormcloaks, mixed up with mere apathy over the matter, the Imperials let her go without much trouble beyond a statement that she was in Skyrim.

Her first place to go to was none other than Solitude, where she inquired to her father's whereabouts. She learned her father died in a skirmish in the Rift, killed by a Stormcloak named Lonnjolf Blackthorne. Filled with despair and a hunger for vengeance, she sought out the man who killed her father to bring justice to him. However, her plans were cut short when, on her way to Windhelm, her and a small caravan was attacked by a dragon. She was struck by awe at the sudden appearance of the creature, and paralyzed by fear when the beast came around and scorched the road with a great fire that killed most of her caravan and wounded and scarred her arm. She would have died that day if it wasn't for an unknown savior who appeared and slaughtered the dragon, only glimpsing him striking the killing blow until she passed out from exhaustion.

She was then saved by another person, of whom she never learned of, only that he wore a strange armor reflecting the armor of the Blades of old. She was brought to Riften, where she remained for a while, healing up and settling down for a while. She did odd jobs for the Court Wizard, Wylandriah, for several years. Within that time, the Great Alduin was slain and the Stormcloaks won their war for independence from the Empire. While she felt despair that the Empire will be eternally weakened by this, she felt there wasn't much to do about it and thus continued with her life.

She continued, however, until she found the location Lonnjolf Blackthorne, the man who killed her father long ago. Feeling the vengeance she felt long ago, she gave up her peaceful life in Riften and left immediately for Solitude where the man was posted. She saw the man, using what information she could and attempted to slay him. She was however stopped and arrested before she could carry out her plan. She now waits in the prison of Solitude, waiting for her sentence for attempted murder for a Stormcloak soldier. Which will likely be execution given that it was a Stormcloak she attempted to kill, and that she was a Breton and that means she was mixed with Elven blood. She just sits and waits, for her moment of escape, whether that be at the headman's block or through some other method.

Personality: Development is going to occur.

Starting personality is going to be relatively simple. Alyanna can be summed up as a hard yet practical woman. She is a very introverted person, preferring very little companions but will not turn away from big groups if they are necessary for her survival. She enjoys being around others that share her same interests, such as history and magic. She, despite this, enjoys helping others. She will often help others without asking for reward, but she will still accept a reward if it's offered or given. She isn't very social, often being the calm quiet one in a room.

When it comes to justice or vengeance, she is obsessed with it. Giving up her normal life to chase down her father's killer, she is obsessed with bringing justice to the man that wronged her long ago. She also listens to the plight of others, and feels that she should bring justice to those who have wronged others. She fills a vigilante role in that regard, disregarding laws in order to get what she feels is justice.

She doesn't hold much distaste for the actual Stormcloak government, but she greatly despises their extreme anti-Mer sentiment along with their very strong nationalist thinking. She feels that a land should be open to all races, and feels that not all Elves should hold the same reputation as the Thalmor, to which she holds disdain for. She goes with the Stormcloaks and will work with them if she feels it is necessary to her own goals, but would have been much happier if the Empire reclaimed Skyrim instead of the Stormcloaks claiming independence.

In terms of magic, she uses conjuration and destruction magic in combat. Though she'll also use her enchantment magic for weapons and armor, but otherwise uses it for trading as her mother taught her to. She prefers using small knives or swords that she summoned with her conjuration magic, wielding one in each hand. She prefers wearing lighter armor or robes, as it gives her more speed and versatility in combat.

Previous RP's:
Dragon Age: Origins IC
Assassin's Creed: Spring of Nations IC
Star Wars: Rise of an Empire IC
Mass Effect: Freedom Rising IC

From the last OOC, be here for easier access and your paroosal.

Accepted.

[Alouite]

Full Name: Delmar Varnalo
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Race: Redguard
Appearance: Hyperlink
Biography: As a boy, he worked at the forge in Solitude. He had a fairly normal childhood, playing, working, learning, until the war broke out in his mid-teens. The army needed strong men, and he certainly fit that bill after his time working the bellows and the grindstone, but they needed swords and armor too. His father eventually convinced the army to let him keep working at the forge, rather than take him to fight. It was early in the second year of the war when a soldier stopping off in town showed him a dwemer gyro he’d picked up after some battle. Delmar was enthralled. He had never seen craftsmanship so fine, nor metal forged with so little error. Moreover, he had never seen a device that so thoroughly confused him as to his purpose. The gyro sparked some hidden fire in him. He wanted to explore the world. A week later, he joined the army, and within a month, he was off to war.

War was not what he’d expected. He’d heard the stories of great imperial battles, of the slaughter of stormcloaks by the hundred, of daring ambushes and heroic victories. He’d heard the stories from the units that made it back to Solitude. He hadn’t heard the stories from the ones that didn’t. For the first few months, the war was rain, snow, and marching. Solitude was the seat of the imperial command because it wasn’t near the front lines, so Delmar’s unit had to march for ages to reach combat. The first battle, Delmar was near the back and never saw a moment of action. The unit never reached the second. In retrospect, Delmar realised the khajiit caravan that passed them probably sold their location to the Stormcloaks, and that’s how they set up the ambush. Regardless, all Delmar knew at the time was that he was walking through a valley with the rest of the unit, and then arrows were raining down from the hills around and the commander was shouting orders. Then the commander was shot, and a rush of Stormcloaks charged the group in the confusion. Delmar was pushed and shoved by the retreating imperials, and had to do all he could to avoid being trampled. Someone shoved him into a Stormcloak soldier, Delmar stabbed the enemy with his sword, then felt something pass through the leather armor covering his right leg and collapsed in pain. One of his comrades fell on top of him, an arrow through his head. Delmar lay there for over an hour, not daring to move, as the Stormcloaks slaughtered the imperials. When it seemed they had all gone, chasing down the remains of his unit, Delmar sat up and tried to treat the cut in his leg as best he could. He had finished bandaging and splinting it, and was looking for a spear or branch to use as a crutch when the Stormcloaks returned and took him prisoner. He worked as a slave in one of their forges until the end of the war, then got passed around from one grimy prison cell to another, eventually arriving here.


Personality: Fascinated with Dwemer technology, numb to the idea of being a prisoner because it’s been so long. Did a lot of fistfighting in prison, but he is scared of the idea of real combat fighting with swords, spells, etc. because of bad memories from his short time in the army. He’s sullen and reclusive now, but used to be cheerful and boisterous before the war and prison. Heavily distrustful of khajiit.
Previous RPs: http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=325447 (I’m Hale Isles)
http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=31&t=316363
http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=320943

Okay, I guess I'll accept this. You're in.

[The Flutterlands]

Sorry, that I posted in the wrong thread. (Twice)

Anyway, tagged.

[Landenburg]

Full Name: Bhosek Blackheart
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Redguard
Appearance: http://s491.photobucket.com/user/zihark ... x.jpg.html
Biography: Bhosek is related to Azani Blackheart, the man who conspired with the Blackwood Company. After the dishonor that Azani brought to his family, they were shamed out of Rihad. His father served in the Imperial Legion, dying to save his company. After that, his family had restored their honor and were allowed back into Rihad. His mother fell into a deep depression when his father died, not knowing she was pregnant with Bhosek. She died during childbirth, dying happily so that she could see her beloved again. Bhosek was raised in an orphanage until he escaped at the age of eight. He lived on the streets for some time, until he joined up with the Alik'r, serving them as a lowly servant and training with the other boys. At the age of 16, the band he was with was set upon by Aldmeri agents, all of them being slain except for Bhosek. He took advantage of this and feigned his own death, heading back to Rihad. He used his connections that he had built up to join a pirate crew, becoming Captain of the galley when the old Captain was slain during a raid. For years he raided and plundered along the Abecean Sea, becoming rich off of his work. Ten years later, he found himself in Skyrim. His crew was dead and he was no longer welcome in Hammerfell, nor Cyrodiil. Unluckily for him, he got drunk and ended up stabbing a man in the Bannered Mare, getting hauled off to Solitude. His wealth had even been seized by the Jarl of Whiterun, gold he intended to get back. That, that is the story of Bhosek.
Personality: Sadistic, Greedy, Aggressive, and Charismatic
Previous RP's: "Row! Row you poor sacks of Redguard shit!" Bhosek shouted. Under the hot Hammerfell sun, his crew rowed with all of their strength. In their sights was an Imperial trade ship, heading back to Anvil from Rihad. The ship was heavy laden with Hammerfell gold and spices. Bhosek had been sighting out the ship for weeks, following it until it was finally far enough out for his attack. The sun was setting, a perfect time for his attack. He just needed to hurry it up.

After some time of rowing, his crew was finally close enough to begin the strike. Ropes were thrown out at the galleon and Rissad, the ship's Battlemage, was conjuring up a mist. With the mist up, Bhosek's pirates could fight the ship's greater force with ease. Bhosek himself was the first on the galleon, throwing himself straight into the fray. Pulling out his dual scimitars, he started slashing left and right at the ship's guards. One, two, and then three were down at his hand. Screaming, Bhosek had adrenaline rush straight into his veins and he continued slinging his blades left and right. At the end of the battle, Bhosek himself had killed 6 of the guards. He was coated in blood that wasn't his, yet this battle wasn't perfect. Rissad had been injured and several of his men were dead. He'd have to recruit some from the galleon's survivors. Not good.

After some hours, the prisoners had been tied up and the blood and bodies were cleaned up. The fishes would be eating good this night. Stepping forward, Blackheart inspected the prisoners. Several were strong and able bodied mercenaries, men he could probably recruit. The rest were useless to him other than that he could ransom them. He began speaking to the mercenaries, saying "If you wish to not spend the rest of your life as a slave, you may join my crew. I pay handsomely for loyal men but betray me and you shall live a very painful and saddening life. So, how about it you mercenaries? Shall you live a well paid life fighting for me or would you like to spend the rest of your life in my chains?". Each and every mercenary there all said that they would join his crew. "Now that this is over, you others shall push the oars on my galley. My men shall make sure it is a pleasurable trip for you all. Unless your families will not pay for you..." he said with a chuckle.

From there, his newly acquired galleon and his galley sailed towards Anvil.

(I have various RP's but I'm lazy.)

[Dain II Ironfoot]

Alouite, i think you made a mistake, we don't know where we are so how could you know where we should go once we get out?

[Congreveopia]

Alouite, i think you made a mistake, we don't know where we are so how could you know where we should go once we get out?

OOC, all we know is that we're in Cyrodil. That's all Alouite mentioned, I think. IC, we might know that we were sent to the large prison in Cyrodil, and some of us might know where that is.

[Dain II Ironfoot]

Alouite, i think you made a mistake, we don't know where we are so how could you know where we should go once we get out?

OOC, all we know is that we're in Cyrodil. That's all Alouite mentioned, I think. IC, we might know that we were sent to the large prison in Cyrodil, and some of us might know where that is.

How could we know that while we where blindfolded?

[Alouite]

Alouite, i think you made a mistake, we don't know where we are so how could you know where we should go once we get out?

OOC, all we know is that we're in Cyrodil. That's all Alouite mentioned, I think. IC, we might know that we were sent to the large prison in Cyrodil, and some of us might know where that is.

This^. Except that we are in Solitude, not Cyrodil. If a major prison was being built in the capital of Skyrim, news about it would've gotten out and about.

[Dain II Ironfoot]

OOC, all we know is that we're in Cyrodil. That's all Alouite mentioned, I think. IC, we might know that we were sent to the large prison in Cyrodil, and some of us might know where that is.

This^. Except that we are in Solitude, not Cyrodil. If a major prison was being built in the capital of Skyrim, news about it would've gotten out and about.

So... Now we suddenly know where we are?

[Togeria]

Tag.

[Alouite]

This^. Except that we are in Solitude, not Cyrodil. If a major prison was being built in the capital of Skyrim, news about it would've gotten out and about.

So... Now we suddenly know where we are?

We have known this. It's not sudden.