The Elder Scrolls: A Prophecy Fulfilled [OOC] [OPEN]

[The Assorted Saharan Outposts]

There we go. Was that good?

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

I just realized...

Wouldn't a high elf and a nord make a Breton?

[The Assorted Saharan Outposts]

I just realized...

Wouldn't a high elf and a nord make a Breton?

...would they? I have no idea

[New Finnish Republic]

I just realized...

Wouldn't a high elf and a nord make a Breton?

I don't think so, at least as a full on Breton. While both would still have their influences on the offspring, I don't think it would be officially a Breton, as I'm sure they themselves had their own unique traits outside of the two races.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

Interracial children take after their mother's race.

Doesn't go for Argonians and Khajiit, they can't impregnate other races.

Also, posted! Brain's somewhat fried (read: very fried) so please forgive me when pointing out mistakes

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

Good impressions, everyone!

[New Finnish Republic]

Is anyone planning on being a part of this initial group here at the cave? Einar's group won't be the only ones going out adventuring, so don't feel like you'll be forced to take part in the quest Einar is going on.

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

They're all offline for another 8 hours!

[The Assorted Saharan Outposts]

I know for a fact I'm going with Einar

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

Also feel free to converse in the cave amongst one another, everyone

[Ralnis]

Alracongril

Race: Reachmen
Gender/Sex: Male
Age: 28 1/2
Appearance:
Organization(s) involved with: Forsworn
Class: Swordmaster( barbarian class)
Equipment: Hide Armor( as shown in picture), longsword, a small bag of coins, a few health potions, civilian clothing
Skills: Master in one-handed, Expert in blade and block, journeyman in athletics
Weaknesses: Can't do archery, bad at alchemy, refuses to use a shield
Bio: Like every Reachmen, he was born in the Rift, near the ruins of Red Eagle's Redoubt and heard the stories of the great Kingdom of the Reach before the Imperials and Nords tore it down. He heard of the story of Red Eagle and how he was going to return to lead the Forsworn against their enemies. However most of his kind couldn't care less as his legendary sword was passed from biraheart to briaheart and used it as a badge of honor or a powerful magical weapon.

The hagraven leader of his tribe saw that Alracongril was to be a skilled warrior but the Reachmen wanted to be something more, he wanted to be the one to bring the Prophecy of Red Eagle and become the most skilled swordsmen among the Forsworn. While he didn't have a natural talent, his tenacity allowed him to proficient in duels and using the wooden blades. When he was old enough to be in raids, he was known for being a skilled warrior and that he could have led his own raids if he hadn't left.

Why he left was pardoned by the hagraven matron as he promised to return when called. He wanted to seek foes and teachers that he can propel his mastery so that he can come back and bring back Red Eagle to his people. He wondered around Skyrim in his Forsworn armor as he challenges mercenaries or those who hate the Forsworn, or inside cities to learn what he could and even getting into a few duels for some coin.

He had a name for himself that got the attention of the Thalmor. Believing him to be a Forsworn spy a couple try to capture him but were routed. Instead they ambushed him and got him off-guard with magic and beat him half-dead. They dragged him bound to a Thalmor embassy to interrogate him of any advancing Forsworn plans that he didn't know about.
RP Sample: https://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?p=33132863#p33132863

[Theyra]

Ravonl Larethwatch

Race: Altmer
Gender/Sex: Male
Age: 60
Appearance: His is sightly taller then the average Altmer and along with the scars on his face. Two more on his body, a medium sized one on his chest and another on his left arm.
Organization(s) involved with: None
Class: Battlemage
Equipment: Steel Mace, Steel knife(for if he can't use his mace or can't use a magic weapon), leather armor, brown cloak with a hood, small coin purse, single sling backpack with a waterskin, some health and Magicka potions, some food.
Skills: Ravonl is skilled at Destruction, Alteration and Conjuration magic. Good in close combat with his mace and good at alchemy.
Weaknesses: Weak to magically inflicted damage, the scar on his left arm will cause significant him pain if hit, has to control his anger when Thalmor are around or being talked about. Has little defensive against arrows.
Bio:

Ravonl was born in the Summerset Isles in the city of Firsthold. He was born into a noble family and the first of three. Ravonl had a noble upbringing and when display his magic affinity expected of Altmer. He was trained as a battlemage and choose to fight with a mace rather than a sword. Growing up, he was close to his family and cares about them deeply. Which is a boon for his parents since, while his they seem like Thamlor supporters. They are secretly against the Thalmor's rule of the Dominion. They would speak out publicly, but they know what happens to those that speak against of the Dominion. So they choose to pretend to be supporters and keep their ideas within the family. Despite this, Ravonl only had doubts about the Thalmor but, would keep his family's secret even after joining the Dominion army.

Soon after he join the army, the Great War started and he sent on the Cyrodiil front. It was during the war that Ravonl was apart of the attack on the Imperial City but, was gravely injured in the assault. Rather then recover in the Imperial City after it was captured, he was transferred to a safe location near the border of Valenwood. While he was recovering away from the Imperial city he heard about the sacking of the Imperial City and the atrocities that the Thalmor allowed it happen. Ravonl's doubts about the Thalmor turned to loathing and by the time he had recovered. Battle of the Red Ring ended and any Dominion forces left in Cyrodiil retreated to either Valenwood or Elsweyr.

The war ended soon after and Ravonl returned scarred and wanting to inform his family on his current stance on the Thalmor. When he met his family, he learned of surprising development that happened while he was gone. His family seeing a opportunity in the war since the Thalmor would be focused on it. Decided to covertly find others that shared their feelings about the Thalmor in Summerset Isle and found some that did. Ravonl was surprised about his and was concerned on trusting these people. His parents reassured him about their new friends and how the Thalmor did not know about them. However unknown to them, one of the "new friends" was a Thalmor agent that was assigned to make sure their were no sign of dissents on Summerset Isle during the war. The Thalmor when they found out about the his family and that they are trying to find other like them. A plan was formed and It was at night when it happen.

Ravonl and his sister were on the way back from relaxing in one of the cities gardens. That is when Ravonl noticed that some the guards were missing and that was when the Thalmor struck. Agents appeared from seemly no one and attacked the two. The two fought back and in the end only Ravonl survived. His sister had taken a blow meant for him near the end of the ambush. Though he wanted to mourn his sister's death but, he knew the Thamlor how to know about their family's real stance if they are attacking them. He picked up one of the dead Thalmor swords and rushed to his family's estate. By the time he got there, the estate was partially on fire and kill some agents by the front door. He heard a fight upstairs and ran up while ignoring the dead agents on the way. When he entered the room and found Thalmor agents striking down his father. The one that made the killing blow was Sannath, the person that his family thought they could trust. The agents noticed Ravonl and turned to face him. Sannath remarked that this was suppose to be quiet operation and his family had unexpectedly up a good fight. While he was speaking, Ravonl saw his dead mother and brother in the room as well. Before Sannath could continue speaking, Ravonl went into a rage and killed the agents in the room. Killing Sannath last and getting a cut on his face during the final melee. Unfortunately did not notice how bad the fire had progressed and the estate collapsed.

The Thalmor agents near the estate saw no one leaving the since Ravonl entered and the fire had badly burnt the bodies. So they assumed that everyone inside died. However, Ravonl managed to barely escape the estate and sneaked on a ship leaving Summerset Isles without the Thalmor noticing. Though he knows that the Thalmor think he is dead, Ravonl has stayed under a low profile ever since and had gone unnoticed by the Thalmor for 26 years. Recently, he was in Bruma and to his dismay Thalmor agents were around. They were investigating possible Talos worshippers among the local Nord population. Eager to move from Bruma, Ravonl signed on to a trading caravan heading to Skyrim. Thinking that the civil war there would be a good place to lay low for him. Unbeknownst to him, the trade caravan was helping some Talos worshipers get out of Bruma and the Thalmor tracked them down. Everyone was captured and rather then sort out who was know about worshipers and who did not. They decided to imprison everyone and Ravonl was separated into a group bounded for interrogation at the Thalmor Embassy.

RP Sample: Sample

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

Is it bad I thought his name was Ravioli for a second?

[New Finnish Republic]

-snip-

We'd like to see possibly your character's bio fleshed out a bit more, but otherwise everything is good. We'll accept your app, but maybe if you could flesh it out more that'd be great!

-snip-

Only issue I have is the "Good at Sneaking" bit there. For sake of balance, I'd ask that you'd remove that. Other than that, you're all good to go!

For everyone else, I'm moving on and timeskipping towards the next morning where you'll be able to decide for certain if you're coming or not with Einar, if you'll be going with another character who will be making her own journey, or if you want to go out on your own!

[Ralnis]

You don't mind if I flesh it out IC?

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

You don't mind if I flesh it out IC?

Man, I know that feeling

[Theyra]

-snip-

We'd like to see possibly your character's bio fleshed out a bit more, but otherwise everything is good. We'll accept your app, but maybe if you could flesh it out more that'd be great!

-snip-

Only issue I have is the "Good at Sneaking" bit there. For sake of balance, I'd ask that you'd remove that. Other than that, you're all good to go!

For everyone else, I'm moving on and timeskipping towards the next morning where you'll be able to decide for certain if you're coming or not with Einar, if you'll be going with another character who will be making her own journey, or if you want to go out on your own!

Sneaking is gone.

[New Finnish Republic]

You don't mind if I flesh it out IC?

That's fine, it was more that we felt that it was kind of missing something, but feel free to just do that in the IC!

[Xah]

Here I was, thinking 'how the heck can I get an 'in' into this RP' when I take a day off work and come back to a perfect opening, right there.

That's a relief.

I make no apologies for the cross-game quote either. I'd do it again you hear.

[Ralnis]

You don't mind if I flesh it out IC?

That's fine, it was more that we felt that it was kind of missing something, but feel free to just do that in the IC!

Yeah, I have an idea that can help out my character's history.

[Sil Arion]

Stumbled across this yesterday, couldn't resist a TES RP! Fair warning: app might be a bit detailed. Forgive me, I had too much fun weaving in lore! And a touch of inspiration from a movie I saw recently. Equilibrium, anyone? Pretty decent one, that.

THE CLERIC

Name: Often addressed as 'Cleric' in conversation. Born Varamaer, son of Valdemaer.

Race: Merman. Nord-Altmer hybrid by blood. Also a Vampire, if less obviously.

Gender: Male.

Age: Sixty.

Appearance: Height near six-and-a-half feet. Weight around two hundred twenty pounds. Slender, muscular build. Numerous scars across the torso and limbs. Light gold skin. Bright blond hair. Dull red eyes, almost black. Can pass as an Altmer or a Nord depending on good disguises and impersonations.

Affiliation: Nominally the Empire, normally the Blades. Not a member.

Class: Nightblade.

Equipment: None. Presently imprisoned by the Thalmor at their Embassy.

Skills: A unique style of close-quarters combat. Silent spell-casting. Summoning and dual-wielding one-handed blades; the only bound weapon spell he can cast. Offensive elemental spells in either or both hands, from flames to ice storm and thunderbolt; will stagger most creatures when dual-casting; may cause wounded foes to flee with fire, paralyze by freezing spells or disintegrate targets via lightning. Familiar with all elemental cloak and wall spells. Can also sustain two summoned creatures simultaneously, if also only Dremora Lords; no capacity for elemental Atronachs, not even basic familiars.

Healing; close wounds is his best and most-used besides heal other to restore health and stamina. Some detection and defensive spells; detect dead and life, as well as ebonyflesh and greater ward. Supplemental spells from clairvoyance and magelight up to muffle. Even invisibility, if at an intense cost to his reserves. Alchemy; more so positive-effect potions that improve or replenish oneself, less so poisons. Certain corpus enchantments on objects and apparel, especially jewelry. His specialty spell, equilibrium.

Sailing, navigating and running ships. Learning languages, history and mathematics. Small-unit tactics, training and leadership. Covert infiltration, reconnaissance and surveillance. Survival, evasion, and resisting torture. Persuasion, intimidation and target interrogation. Deception, disguises and cover impersonations. Intelligence collection, analysis and strategy. Encryption, decryption and code creation. Recovering, transporting and protecting very important persons and items. Sabotage, espionage and elimination of valuable devices and service personnel. Hunting monsters, beasts and bounties; especially spell-casters, daedra and undead. Feats of athletic fitness and acrobatic finesse; swimming two miles then riding a hundred and running twenty across country, or two layout back flips followed by a half twist and tucked front flip down an alley.

And a certain talent for dance and musical performance . . .

Weaknesses: Very focused training as a Nightblade at the expense of other things; no experience nor expertise in wearing armor or handling weapons besides one-handed blades. No experience no expertise in crafting objects besides jewelry and instruments. Traditional vulnerabilities of a vampire, with the inherent bodily needs and desires too.

Additionally, his inability to naturally regenerate magicka due to the ritual he performed. Others' spells cannot heal him due to the same ritual; he simply absorbs the magical energy without feeling any effect. Also absorbs by contact the magical charge of anything he hasn't enchanted himself per that ritual too. However, he hasn't tested that on any artifacts of special power.

His honor: oaths sworn to care for children in need; to not harm innocent civilians; never raise the dead; never consume living blood without consent; and to destroy the Thalmor, whom he hates even more than himself.

And his fame tends to follow him wherever he travels . . .

Bio: Born aboard the Thunderchild as she sailed north of Skyrim on the Thirteenth of Sun's Dusk, 4E 141, under the sign of the Atronach as a dark storm raged and the sea surged. His parents were Ariel and Arthor; respectively, his Altmeri mother and Nordic father. They named him Varamaer; 'famed defender' in Old Nordic.

Varamaer lived aboard ship for much of his early childhood outside of port cities as he sailed all the seas of Tamriel. His odd family was the crew of the fast clipper Thunderchild; his ever-secretive father the captain, his mysterious mother a chaplain, and forty-odd adults a motley assortment of older siblings, aunts and uncles from each race. Altogether, they formed the Windblown; a well-famed group of traveling entertainers who performed at every port they visited.

He loved it. Coming to love them all despite not understanding the truth then. Varamaer soon held a special place in their hearts; the first and only and favorite love-child aboard.

So began an eclectic education as their gift. One made all the more interesting by a reveal when Varamaer turned seven years old: his parents were both Blades. Father the Master. Mother an Archivist. All the crew too; each an intelligence agent of some sort. And the Thunderchild their operations base and chapel for the Nine Divines, particularly Talos.

Then Varamaer learned their real names. Names he'd heard in stories aboard ship, and whispered at port: Lady Niniel and Sir Valdemaer. Too, their true history and trade. As well as how old they really were. Father an officer in the Imperial Legion and Champion of the Empire; a commoner risen to General of the Fifthteenth prior to an honorable discharge in 4E 18 after infection with vampirism in battle near Orsinium, which was when the Blades recruited him. Mother once one of the Altmeri Wise, a hereditary priestess and princess before fleeing Alinor after the Thalmor overthrew the throne in 4E 22.

They'd met that year on his father's first mission: transporting his mother to safety. Falling in love. Mother joining the Blades in pursuit of justice. And coming to worship Talos too in time.

So Varamaer continued his family-friendly education, sailing the seas for seven more years. At fourteen, he swore his oaths, becoming a follower of Talos. He joined his family's secret trade and enjoyed it immensely as months turned to years. Even if they forbid him from becoming a Blade himself; a ploy to save his life in the future from those that may hunt them. So he operated as an independent contractor; a very devoted, but also deniable asset paid by the Blades. One whose true name was never recorded nor released. Simply another nameless, faceless field intelligence agent. If also remarkable; his results over the coming five years spoke for themselves. The Thalmor even put out hits for a foe they had no information on beyond his association with the Blades and their operations in the Dominion.

So when he turned twenty, Varamaer received a call-name for his feats. One fitting as his own.

Cleric. And in time, the Cleric, the Talos-blessed bane of the Thalmor.

As he matured, his parents sent him on increasingly important field missions. Eventually proving worthy of long-duration, independent operations. During this time, he briefly attended the College of Winterhold, where he delved into deeper lore and mysteries of magic. The nature of vampirism. Certain alchemical reactions. A local artifact's powers. Discovering a special spell. And formulating a ritual. One his parents forbid him perform when informed; an oath he swore with reluctance.

In 4E 166, he infiltrated Valenwood and lived there for five years under cover. As Cleric, Varamaer served as a field operative under the revered loremaster Esbern during those five years. He was one of Esbern's hands in inciting the Falinesti Incident. Later, Esbern chose him as a member of the assault team which breached the Blue River Prison, freeing hundreds of Imperial soldiers, spies, sympathizers and citizens.

So Varamaer lived. Learned. Connected. Assisted local resistance cells. Quietly trained and equipped them. Focused on espionage and sabotage as the Blades became aware of a mounting war effort in the Dominion led by the Thalmor. And coming to care those fellow fighters as friends. Even falling in love with their leader, a female Bosmer; Firiel of Falinesti. They married in 4E 168; a secret ceremony officiated by Esbern and attended only by a select few, including his parents, and hers, who were also resistance members.

Without warning, the Great War began in 4E 171. He soon learned of his family's deaths. Father, Mother, everyone else; all somehow slain. Scores more Blades and contractors too stationed across the Dominion. Their heads delivered to the Emperor in an ultimatum refused. Varamaer barely escaped death himself. Forced to flee Valenwood for Cyrodiil after his lover and friends fell in an ambush that slew all but him. A moment that scarred him deeply, planting the seed that soom bloom and burn; Firiel's death was a final gift to him. Indeed, her sacrifice bought his survival.

But she was the last person to ever call him by his birthname. For he'd failed to protect them all. And to protect her.

From there, Varamaer rested for a few days before walking to Skyrim. There he purposely contracted vampirism in battle at Broken Fang Cave. Then he prepared two potions; the first of Abacean Longfin and Cyrodiilic Spadetail; the second of Abacean Longfin, Cyrodiilic Spadetail and White Cap. Finally, he went to the Atronach Standing Stone, drank two potions in order and immediately performed a ritual upon the Stone. One that sacrificed his Highborn ability and left him entirely unable to regenerate his own magicka. But one which also made him absorb all foreign magic. An ideal ability when at war with master spell-casters and soldiers with enchanted weapons.

Yet he broke an oath. Paid for it dearly. Knew too he'd further suffer as he swore a new oath: to destroy the Thalmor no matter the cost. Pain. Reputation. Hypocrisy. And even himself.

He returned to service as the Blades tried to recover, receiving orders to act as an assassin deep behind lines. If one who'd also be at the battlefront beside the Legion when available.

So he was. Driven by hate. Identity as Cleric consuming him. His face becoming that mask. The only name he responded while on the hunt for those four years at war. Breaking into Alinor. Killing Dominion leaders. Taking upon himself near-impossibly missions across all Tamriel, heedless of risk. Only concerned with hurting those that hurt him. The ones who destroyed all whom he held dear. And at times working alongside others like him; among them a woman named Delphine, whom he related to deeply. Each lost so much to the Thalmor. Both faithful to Talos.

Cleric earned fame for audacity, tenacity and ruthlessness. And a confirmed body count in the high hundreds. At least, for bodies that could still be identified.

In 4E 174, Cleric infiltrated the Imperial City after its conquest, aiding local resistance. Trying to prevent harm to innocent civilians, to stop the atrocities committed by the Thalmor. Caring for children in need; orphans who he felt for. Whose care became a priority, even over revenge and his original intent: to assassinate Lord Narrifin. He also freed hundreds of civilians and prisoners, helping them and many more flee the city via the sewers and catacombs. Among these was a man named Ulfric Stormcloak, who left a lasting impression despite their short meeting due to their shared hatred. Though the man's racism set them apart.

And in 4E 175, he participated in the Battle of the Red Ring. Bards say he slew a hundred Justiciars by himself. All officers he called out to battle by name, listing their offenses as they fell; among them Lord Narrifin's top four deputies. He made a lifelong friend in one Tribune Tullius, whose life he saved that day from a Justiciar's thunderbolt by interposing his own body. They'd correspond via letters over years; discussions of history, politics, economics, religion and even magic.

Then the White-Gold Concordat was signed within a month, terms all too similar to the Thalmor's ultimatum four years before. Much of Hammerfell ceded to the Dominion. Then renouncing Hammerfell as a province when they protested and resisted Thalmor occupation. Worshiping Talos outlawed. And the Blades disbanded; the Thalmor free to hunt those few left.

It was betrayal most foul. Abandonment of the worst kind. A bond of trust broken to never be remade. So Cleric disregarded the Concordat, fighting on in Hammerfell for five more years in the name of Talos. There he found fellowship once more within the Redguard resistance movement. In particular, Cleric related to their leader; a man who answered only as the Ebony Warrior. The one whose command he obeyed directly; whose body at rest he watched; the one whom he came to call elder brother in time. So he served until the Second Treaty of Stros M'Kai came in 4E 180 and the Dominion withdrew at last. He parted ways with a promise to be fulfilled in Skyrim if both still walked as agents of Talos in twenty years; a last vigil in the Velothi Mountains east of Shor's Stone.

Cleric wandered then for fifteen years, drifting from city to city. Trying to discover any living allies. Failing at that. Then aimless beyond destroying the Thalmor. All the while hunted still by them; endless attempts to kill him while he worked.

It culminated on the Thirty-First of Last Seed in 4E 201. For over five years, Cleric lived under cover as a guard at the Thalmor Embassy north of Solitude; time spent collecting information on them, their allies and enemies. Readying himself to assassinate the Thalmor Emissaries and their staff members. And covertly searching for allies, if any yet survived.

On that day, First Emissary Elenwen hosted yet another party for the powerful and influential in Skyrim; Jarls, Justiciars, stewards, officers and merchants. Even his old friend, Tullius. There, he served in his cover role as butler, but soon discovered something interesting: an infiltrator among the invitees, one whose name he'd never heard. One trying to create a scene while one of his servants, Malborn, inconspicuously unlocked a back door to the kitchen. While only observing, he assisted subtly, directing attention away from Malborn by surreptitiously letting an already tipsy attendee trip on his foot; one who then vomited all over Elenwen and several others.

The mysterious guest disappeared in the chaos, and guards sounding an alarm soon after he heard a shout. Or perhaps a Shout. Then sounds of clashing swords and spells as scores more guards swarmed the Embassy while others evacuated the Ambassador and her remaining guests.

He acted then in the hall. Slew the soldier nearest him and declared his identity as the famed and once-faceless assassin called Cleric. The Cleric. A furious running battle began within the Embassy; leading guards away from where the infiltrator went. Slaying soldiers. Destroying property. Trying to find Elenwen. While not meeting that objective, he slew many Justiciars and several major deputies, including Third and Second Emissaries. Soon night fell. He fled.

For several hours he evaded capture in the mountains, if failing to lose the scores of relentless pursuers. Then the sun rose and time ran out; even sixty years of experience couldn't save him. Weakened, outnumbered and surrounded. The Cleric captured. Interrogated. Tortured. Kept at the brink of death since that day so he couldn't cast his specialty spell. Days turned to weeks. But not once has he broken, nor even spoken beyond reversed analysis and taunts.

And there he has remained, until now . . .

RP Sample: Here you are!

Personality: A seemingly shy, serene and mild-mannered young man so often seen with a faint smile on his face; one of apparent contentment accompanied by a strangely gentle, generous and impartial attitude when with most people. One almost alarming in sincere willingness to sacrifice time and effort for others' wishes despite wanting nothing in return.

Overall, very determined, decisive and deliberate in word and deed; a perfectionist who approaches problems analytically and by priority, if also preferring simpler solutions due to three focuses: adaptability, precision and efficiency. Observes people and converses in the same manner, if distorted by beliefs; calm, collected and direct, but also distant.

Though he tends towards gallows humor, given the grave circumstances he very often finds himself in.

These telltale features are sometimes at odds with his appearance, morality and famously less-than-peaceful history. Ones not reflected in the eyes either. Intense, yet restrained; subtly serious and somehow burdened beneath that. An inner turmoil, almost wistful in purpose; as if secretly carrying an extraordinary weight which compels him inexorably. An obsession; a driving motive trio that concede no compromise. An ideal. An oath. And a debt in desperate need of repayment.

Still waters run deep. In this case, below placid waters lies liquid fire. Here, heat rises all too easily when allowed. For in the Cleric's eyes, the ends too often justify the means. And that end is justice. Even if that cost is hypocrisy - or himself.

So he believes, at least. But when that conflict consumes him? What then? What then is justice?

Likes: Justice. The Nine Divines. The Blades. Fairness. Timeliness. Athletics and acrobatics. Studying history, religion and magic. Dance and musical performances of the theatrical and classical sorts. Secluded, peaceful spaces. Traveling Tamriel. Helping and protecting people, especially family, friends and children. Preparing food for the same. Gift-giving. Cleverness. Creativity. Fighting worthy foes. Honor. And his afternoon naps.

Dislikes: The Thalmor. Himself. Hypocrisy. Failure. Adulterers and arsonists. Racial discrimination. Intolerant and irresponsible people, and those who act tactlessly. Disease and illness. Unreasonable dirtiness. Drunkenness. Rampant stupidity. Mindless violence. Ill treatment of women and children, the elderly and infirm. Those who devalue others’ lives. Abuse of people and power. Slavery. Betrayal. Rape. And losing loved ones.

Theme: You Will Become This Legend

Voice: Fair, lilting and weirdly resonant; words half-sung in with a deep, dark and smoky tone like an old fire left burning to long, but still so warm. Accent alters per impersonation.

Edits: Adjustments made! And added some more bio. Couldn't resist!

[New Finnish Republic]

Post up. I'll be specifically addressing few of you on a few details, but for everyone in general:

- These bodies will all more or less have on them the same things as what I detailed on the Altmer. Different weapons and gear is acceptable, and note that they'll all have the reinforced bone included with their designs that will be archaic. (The bone is Dragon Bone, and the designs are similar to the Ancient Nordic designs with a few differences.) They will also all possess amulets that I'll allow Rodez the honor of detailing. Why? Because I want you guys to have some voice in all of this storybuilding as well!

-The race of these "members" can vary, but they will all be generally young to middle age

-None of them, nor the Thalmor, shall be still alive. They're dead, but your character doesn't know that

-If you have something interesting you want to add but don't know if it might mess up my vision for the events, just TG me. Like I said, I want you guys to have some voice in this, but I do need to make sure the train stays on the tracks if you know what I mean.

[Ralnis]

I'll meet with Elinar and gang now that Alrcongril should be well enough to talk and fight somewhat.

[The Psuedo-Democratic States of the Doge]

Ciri Soraendottir

Race: Nord-Imperial Mix
Gender/Sex: Female
Age: 24
Appearance: Ciri stands at a petite 5'7, holding a gaunt, muscular appearance. Her square face tapers towards her chin, containing a defined, muscular jawline. Her pale skin fits her tightly over her athletic, defined body. Her arms are somewhat rangy and thin, but vascular along with her muscled legs. Her torso is dotted with thick scars, specifically a bolt wound to her chest and claw marks on her wiry abdomen. Her thighs are marked by some past arrow wounds and cuts from battle.

Organization(s) involved with: Apprentice at the Companions
Class: Spellsword
Equipment:

X1 Iron Upper Breastplate (Chest only)
X1 Leather Armor Placard/Vest
X2 Leather Pauldrons
X2 Leather Gauntlets
X1 Animal Pelt Skirt
X1 Silver Sword (One-Handed)
X3 Lesser Magicka Potions
X3 Deathbell Plant Matter

Skills: Two-Handed Blades, Destruction Magic (Fire), Illusion Magic, Athletics, Light Armor, Alchemy, Monsterslaying
Weaknesses: Blocking, Restorative Magic, Haggling, Low Mana, Other Types of Weaponry & Armor, Conjuration Attacks, Attacks from Heavy Weaponry (Axes and Battlehammers), Restricted Magicka, Impulsive, Chemical Fascination
Bio:
Ciri was orphaned at a young age, unaware of her family's nor her ancestors' past. She was raised as an indentured servant on a quarry in Winterhold, where she developed in an hostile environment surrounded by dangerous labor. She spent her childhood as a mining assistant, helping to carry resources around the quarry. This stressed her biological development, but ultimately kept her fit and supple. At the age of 19, she fulfilled her contractual obligations and made enough money to buy her freedom. After being released, her curiosity for the wild led to her proclivity for monsterslaying. This skill enabled her to provide for herself, taking various quests from local lords and barons.

Following some travel around Cyrodil, Ciri returned to her homeland in Skyrim. Scarred by her past, she hopes to find the story of her origins, and wishfully, one day her parents. She decided to pursue a career with the Companions, joining as an Associate at the age of 21. This is where she specialized in monsterslaying, focusing on branches of magic that enable her to better fight creatures far more powerful than her. However, her main skill remains sword fighting, with her magical capabilities restricted by her low reserve magicka. Her enthusiasm for fighting has led to an obsession with arena battles, being a frequent participant in competitive brawls. This has the unfortunate downside of brain injury risk, limiting her intelligence capabilities and thus her magicka. Ciri's lean physique and injury experience enables her to withstand more pain than others as well as providing large boosts to her endurance and stamina.
RP Sample: https://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=31&t=281062&p=19023501&hilit=vittoria#p19023501

[New Finnish Republic]

Apologies for not getting to these sooner. Real life tends to take away from things

-snip-

A few things:

1) This app is very well made, so I'll give you props on that.
2) While you do an good job at justifying your charactering being a Blade, due to conflicting lore and whatnot we're going to ask that you have your character not be a member of the organization. Now you can still have him have parents be members of the group, and possibly having connections with the organization, but being an outright member is probably a no go.
3) You can be a vampire if you so choose to, but you'll need to really have to address all the issues that come with being one. A lot of our adventures will take place out in broad daylight, and not to mention that there will be many (Likely even my own character) who will have a bit of an issue when they discover him being a vampire. Based on your writing skills, I trust you'll be able to handle it, but I just wanted you to be aware.
4) Custom classes are not allowed, and for a reason. Your character seems to possess incredible skills while having limited weaknesses. We'll need you to pick a class, and base your strengths and weaknesses around it. You of course have a bit of wiggle room, but you have to stick by that.

Once these issues are addressed, I'll accept your app. But seriously man, I did enjoy reading through all that.

-snip-

A few things:

1) There really isn't any official "Monsterslayers", at least lore wise. You can just have her be a member of the Companions. If you want to mention that her interests are in tracking down and fighting beasts and the like, that's fine.
2) I'm going to ask that you only carry one claymore (Which really should be addressed as a Greatsword), as in real life those things are pretty heavy and cumbersome for blades. You can still carry a silver dagger if you really want to. However...
3) If you're going to be a Spellsword, wielding a two handed weapon would be pretty counterproductive. The whole point of a spellsword is being able to wield both your weapon and your magical abilities at the same time. I'd highly suggest you switch to a one-handed weapon like a sword or mace. I mean you even put heavy weaponry as a weakness, and a claymore would definitely define as one of those.
4) Slavery does not exist practically anywhere in Tamriel at this point, including Skyrim.
5) Working for lords and barons (Which in Skyrim I think are actually more like Jarls and their Thanes) as a fugitive would likely end up in you just being apprehended.
6) The whole intelligence thing is likely not needed to be put as a weakness. You can note it, but it's not something really that can be defined unless you're alluding to her being easily misled, making poor judgements often, or something along those lines.
7) I'd probably put in at least some reason why your character has become adept in the art of fighting. Historical European Martial Arts, or whatever we want to call their equivalents in this lore, aren't something you can just pick up. Maybe expand on this in your bio, unless you're wanting your character to be a lower skilled fighter...Granted that could be worked on with the Companions, but if you're new to the organization I'd be hard pressed to say it would be okay to see your character suddenly be able to fight against a skilled opponent, at least in the traditional sense.

As I said before, once these issues are addressed I'll be happy to accept your app.