Elder Scrolls RP - preparation

As some of you are probably aware I was making and have been informed (sorry for those that have not, I still love you all), I plan on making this sort of a D&Dish TE-themed campaign RP. Not in a sense that there are dice, strict rules and character sheets, but more so that you will be put into this dark and gloomy, post-war Skyrim world and not-railroaded through it. Just a party of several Companions doing a quest and developing the story based on their own choices.

Here's the catch. Since these things usually end up necroed quickly, I am forced to be selective. This may take a long time and anyone hampering the story with consistent inactivity, marginal interest or short attention span (I'm looking at you, Meow) should reconsider before asking to join if they aren't interested in sticking to the end. I would love if I could find a way of fitting every character and their mother into the story, but there is simply not possible to do so over forums without having the thing drag out for millennia. If this one goes well, I will consider making more.

Good? Okay, so, if you are still interested. Let me explain how this works:

• You are a Companion, and your Harbinger is TES V's Last Dragonborn, therefore, you cannot be a dragonborn.
• You are a member of a party composed of all the other player's companions, and you know each other to a lesser or larger degree. Feel free to figure your backstories and relationships out between yourself.
  
• You cannot be a werewolf, it was cured and any that didn't, were evicted from the order.
  
• You can be any species you like (any of the 11 standard races). Half-breeds included (Taj- I mean Khajit and Arganians cannot breed with men and mer, or between themselves).
  
• You can be any socially acceptable class (magic or not) that is realistically capable of being a companion. Sufficient combat abilities required, melee, magic or ranged. Go nuts on misc skills.
  
• I may take a slight liberty on your backstory, but I will keep it as intact as possible. This is due to destiny mechanic I may attempt to implement. Try to think how your character's backstory will effect his actions in the future. If you do it in a way that makes the narrative and the setting more interesting, I won't change it at all. After all, your character's personality and view of the world will be defining the story. While at it, feel free to assume as much as you want about this new fucked-up version of Skyrim.
  
• As always, keep it reasonable.

Character app (post it here):

[b]Name:[/b] (full name, titles, etc.)
[b]Description:[/b] (appearance, preferred clothing when traveling/fighting, general behavior)
[b]Primary skill:[/b] (main combat skill focus, the things your character excels in the most and what got him into the companions in the first place)
[b]Misc skills:[/b] (everything from reading and expert swimming to lock-picking and magic)
[b]Disadvantages:[/b] (the saying that everyone's got a weakness need not apply in a fictional world, if you have any major known weaknesses, put them here. You may chose to keep them  secret and put hints as we go)
[b]Backstory:[/b] (your green monstrosity's thumb sucking habit as a child is funny to read, but not really important. The important things to put are what your character did before joining the companions, what their education and experience is, and how they got into it the first place. If you want, leave it vague and I will fill the gaps when assigning destinies)

Go nuts, I'm looking forward to hearing what you think of in terms of characters. Any suggestions are still appreciated. I will provide you more details as I remember or you remind me to provide them.

Name: Mark "Flame bringer" Syion

Description: Ragged Wizard clothing, a long magical staff. He is Old and wise, staying behind in a fight, in which he exels in quickly

Primary skill: Conjuration is the Magic he is a expert in, legend tells he is able to spawn a Oblivion God,or was it that he turned into a dog? but that Can't be true...

Misc skills: Being a Breton, he is a master of magic, Strong points are Conjuration and Fireballs, and god help the souls of the merchants, he will hagle them down into Oblivion

Disadvantages: People say he is loosing his mind, after turning a child into a chicken once, he spent two days in a cell before paying for bail. But what would happen in a fight, that's to be seen.

Backstory: Being Born and Raised in High Rock, Mark set out to find adventure before he turned 24. flamboyant, intelligent, willful, and a excellent cook, his family adored him. Being from a family of Petty kings and lord's his father asked him to take his place as Family heir, denying the request, he set out to the World of Tamriel. After first stopping by at the College of Winterhold, he spent his days learning Conjuration Magic and Cave spelunking. After entering a Cave, he felt a precence unknown to him, going deeper into the Cave, he found a staff embeded into a Rock. After some careful digging, he took the staff for his own. After studying the staff for years he found out how it worked. Trying it out the first time in the hall of the college, it spawned a frightining creature, a "Oblivion hell-spawn" he called it, after it slayed the Arch-Mage of the college Marks quick thinking led him to stealing the Arch-mages clothes and throwing him down the mountain which the college was sitting apon. After leaving the college with haste, he set out to Whiterun seeking a place to stay, and perhaps work too.

Name: Halla Galanodel

Description: A slight, black-haired bosmer woman wearing green leathers and wielding a longbow of treated bone.

Primary skill: Archery

Misc skills: Lockpicking, stealth, pickpocketing, bonecrafting

Disadvantages:

Backstory: Halla was born to a lower-class family in the moving city of Falinesti, in the deep reaches of Valenwood. Like many of her class and age; Halla hunted for a living; and while not being the most skilled at the task, she quickly became proficient with the profession, allowing her to garner a respectable income. Despite this relative comfort; the growing resentment and increasingly extreme views of the Thalmor overseers of the city led Halla to take flight, heading to a country infamous for it's freedom.

I'm actually kind of interested in this, and if you're willing to bare with my work schedule to some degree, would like to join in! (I can explain my work schedule as needed, it's consistent and on point, just a bit odd.)

Name: Ervas

Description: Dunmer, with a gravely voice, sharp facial features and dark hair. O, and red eyes. Chainmail armour, with a few pieces of bonemold armour thrown on top. Also wears a tattered, blue travelling cloak.

Primary skill: The ability to craft spell scrolls. Also enchanting as a byproduct of that, though the processes are different and as such, his enchantments are relatively minor. He's also relatively well practiced at using a sword.

Misc skills: Knowledge of the Deadric language. Arbitrary survival skills required of a lonesome wanderer.

Disadvantages: Literally Dunmer. That is to say: socially inept in "softer" and more civilized circumstances.

Backstory: Though not old enough to remember the events of the Argonian invasion into Morrowind, Ervas has certainly felt its effects. His great and magnificent people, overwhelmed by a bunch of slaves. Eurgh, surely they were wrong to place their faith in the demigods who now lie dead, insane, or are just simply. Gone. Ervas did his best to try and remain content with the life he had: serving under the locally ruling great house, as a scrollsmith. The house lacked faith in the Telvanni mages, so they looked for skilled individuals who could also lift a sword, and would be willing to fight with one if all else failed. Eventually, however, due to the ongoing Argonian raids, similar to the one they launched on Solstheim about 50-60 years back, Ervas was pushed out of his home and forced to walk the road north. Much like many other Dunmer in a similar predicament, he ended up in Skyrim.

Slightly more padded narrative, for narrative reasons. Raisins contained inside.

Name: Nilieril Lysur

Description: An average sized Bosmer. Carries a traditional Bosmer bow, along with dagger.

Primary skill: Archery and One-Handed Weapons

Misc skills:Hunting, Stealth and Survival Skills

Disadvantages:

Backstory: Born into a family on the move, Nilieril learned survival skills in the wild. At a young age, The Lysur family fled from Valenwood into Cyrodiil eventually making their way into Skyrim shortly before the Civil War began. While crossing the border, the party of travellers were caught in an ambush by bandits. By this, Nilieril was already proficient with the bow but has yet to have to kill anyone. He showed great skill with defending himself and his group of companions from the bandits. Unfortunately enough though, only him and two of the younger Bosmer that were with him survived the ambush. They went their separate ways into Skyrim.

Name: Talen-Kai Andreeteus

Description: Argonian with rusty red scales and a some sharp swept back horns, he applies green and blue warpaint to his face every morning as a makeup routine. He wears a set of leather armor from Argnonia, and has a make-shift spear he once carried in the swamps. For warmth, he wears a grey cloak over his body, and is known for his hissing laughter and jovial disposition. His sharp teeth are often in a smile.

Primary skill: Major Skills:ConjurationMysticism, Sneak, Alteration, (Can we have spears?), Light Armor, Alchemy

Misc skills: Fast swimmer, Perceptive, Good at cooking and sewing, Pick-pocketing

Disadvantages: Recovered skooma addict, Disdain for (non-companion) Dunmer, fiscally irresponsible, holds alcohol poorly

Backstory: Talen-Kai was once known as "Befriends-Daedra" for his devoted studies of conjuration. A native of Argonia, he moved to Skyrim after partaking in some raids against Morrowind in order to pursue his studies at the College of Winterhold. Life with the frigid conditions of the college fell on him roughly, and so he coped with the cold by fostering a skooma addiction. He was ejected from the college for stealing to pay for his skooma, and spent some time drifting until he overcame the addiction at the temple of Mara in Riften. Needing work, yet forgetting all of his conjuration abilities, he changed his name to Talen-Kai Andreeteus to put his past behind him and auditioned for the Companions after shaking out some of the rust from his time of inactivity. All though he is not the most skilled fighter, he tries his best to bring utility to combat situations. Eager to avoid the mistakes of his past, he feels a strong sense of brotherhood and devotion to his fellow companions.

Name: Mark "Flame bringer" Syion

Description: Ragged Wizard clothing, a long magical staff. He is Old and wise, staying behind in a fight, in which he exels in quickly

Primary skill: Conjuration is the Magic he is a expert in, legend tells he is able to spawn a Oblivion God,or was it that he turned into a dog? but that Can't be true...

Misc skills: Being a Breton, he is a master of magic, Strong points are Conjuration and Fireballs, and god help the souls of the merchants, he will hagle them down into Oblivion

Disadvantages: People say he is loosing his mind, after turning a child into a chicken once, he spent two days in a cell before paying for bail. But what would happen in a fight, that's to be seen.

Backstory: Being Born and Raised in High Rock, Mark set out to find adventure before he turned 24. flamboyant, intelligent, willful, and a excellent cook, his family adored him. Being from a family of Petty kings and lord's his father asked him to take his place as Family heir, denying the request, he set out to the World of Tamriel. After first stopping by at the College of Winterhold, he spent his days learning Conjuration Magic and Cave spelunking. After entering a Cave, he felt a precence unknown to him, going deeper into the Cave, he found a staff embeded into a Rock. After some careful digging, he took the staff for his own. After studying the staff for years he found out how it worked. Trying it out the first time in the hall of the college, it spawned a frightining creature, a "Oblivion hell-spawn" he called it, after it slayed the Arch-Mage of the college Marks quick thinking led him to stealing the Arch-mages clothes and throwing him down the mountain which the college was sitting apon. After leaving the college with haste, he set out to Whiterun seeking a place to stay, and perhaps work too.

Conjuration is literally the worst school of magic you could've picked for your primary, because conjurers are almost as hated as necromancers by the Nords. I may have implied a little bit more liberty than I initially wanted to give to players.

Could you rework your backstory and character a bit, not make conjuration his main and change his name so it doesn't reference an SS13 character? Maybe a fix in the overall grammar (who am I to judge even).

Here's also a point to work on. On what grounds do you think your character would be fit for Companions of Jorrvaskr even with laxed standards. I understand he's a good speaker, but imagine if I was the Harbinger. Persuade me now why I should allow you to join the guild. Would you withhold the information about your deeds?

-snip-

-snip-

I'm actually kind of interested in this, and if you're willing to bare with my work schedule to some degree, would like to join in! (I can explain my work schedule as needed, it's consistent and on point, just a bit odd.)

The post rate may range from anything up to one a week to few a week, depending on the speed at which people respond to. I'm obligating myself to respond in the thread as frequently as possible.

Seems good. Too much elf-blood, but I like them. I'll take the lack of backstory that you would prefer your characters to be assigned a destiny. Basically, while their personalities are yours to define, each will be given a driving force, something that defined their earlier life and still follows them to the present day. Each will be given a set of challenges that may or may not pit them against their companions and spin the story out of control if ignored. I'll likely tie them to the existing backstory.

Name: Plucks-At-Strings

Description: An Argonian of scales tinged a soft brown with red feathers tapered down the back of his head. His scales are neatly cared for, but the tips of his fingers look raw, some even scared. When he walks in presence of civilization, he wears a plain white overshirt, green pants, and a padded red jacket, with a diamond pattern laced into it's fabric. Whenever he stands in the way of battle, he wears armour made of steel, with musical notes carved into the shoulder plates and the top of his gauntlets.

Primary skill: Heavy armour, archery, one handed.

Misc skills: Speechcraft, swimming, the lute.

Disadvantages: He's Argonian, so that would be a disadvantage on it's own. He has others, but Ill leave scattered hints on the way.

Backstory: Originally a bard, before he came to Skyrim the only stings he ever pulled back on were on his lute, and the only cries he ever screamed were the words of the songs and poems he read. The Civil War held a unique opportunity, surely those in strife would need cheering up, families ripped apart by war, bitter hatred in the back of everyone's mind, who wouldn't want to listen to a fine bard's notes with a glass of wine or mead? So the Argonian went to Skyrim, with stars in his eyes. But the stars hid the true danger that plagued Skyrim. The emergence of the dragons put Skyrim at more risk then they had even been in, at least in the current era, and even immigrants with the best of intentions were caught between the crossfire. Only seemed fitting, giving his name, and his people's history, that should he ever need to pick up a weapon in defense of his own life, it'd be a bow. And of course it did at, at least one point or the other. Eventually he became good at it, plucking a new string to the music of death. After fighting for so long, the silky, calming strings on his lute didn't call to him as they used to. So he sought out to be a fighter, by choice instead of need this time. This eventually brought him to the Companions, where he started to train and fight. He'd always stay in the rear of battle, picking the enemy apart, and using a dagger or a short sword to kill those who looked to take the arrowfire away from the battle.

He is surely the most social of the Companions, and if not, probably the most outward. He still plays his lute among the people and singing in the Bannered Mare. It's also become a running joke that he would bring his lute to the dining room of Jorrvaskr and start strumming the tune of "The Dragonborn Comes" whenever he hears the Harbinger coming up from the bed chambers. Beside his love of battle, the thing he holds dearest in his heart is his likability. What point is there in having a place to call home, and people you put the trust of your life in if they have no love for you? He tries to hold himself in high standards of all the Companions, being a friend as well as an ally, expanding the same concept to those who live in Whiterun.

Also, is this post Civil War, or post 'Dragon War?' If it's the latter, who is the victor of the civil war in Skyrim?

Season Unending is the Nordic term for War. Alduin was banished 15 years ago, the war ended 5 years ago. Which means it dragged on for 10 years. Stormcloaks won.

Would you like more Nords or are you fine with there being the amount of elves that there are? I am fine with making a new Nord character instead.

I'm actually fine with this. Yes. This is funny. You'll be Dragons of Jorrvaskr. A running joke among the Companions, due to the Dragonborn herself being an elf, and the amount of Liggers in it. Of course, the joke says nothing about the seriousness and the competence of the group. It's a well-meaning jest.

Alright, since we already seem to be full up on ranged people, submitting a melee fighter, just so we have one, or if Strings isn't the cup'a this campaign deserves.

Name: Imuka Veamillion

Description: A human with skin caked in dirty, grim and tales of a thousand battles. His hair is black, and grown down past his skull, tied backwards into a ponytail to keep it out of his eyes, though he usually keeps it free while in Whiterun. Not any other city, though. He always wears his armour. It composes of hide clad all around his body, with potions tied around their necks hung at his waist. With wears hide bracers around his wrist, the ends of which with topped with fur to help protect from the cold, at least a bit. His wore open-toed sandals made of leather, with fur that went up his legs past his ankles.

Primary skill: One handed, light armour.

Misc skills: Destruction magic

Disadvantages: Previous a Mad Man of the Reach, also known as a Forsworn. He still wears the armour of his old allegiance, so it's not something that could easily be hid.

Backstory: He was there during the glorious days when the Reach was held in it's own right as a kingdom independent of Skyrim and the Empire, as it should have been. Then Ulfric came and shouted them from the walls of Markarth, and that was something that couldn't ever be forgiven. He lived and fought during the Civil War and the return of the dragons, watching from the sidelines with the rest of the Forsworn as Skyrim ripped itself apart and burned at the same time. But beside watching and battling in the wilds of Reach, nothing much came of his life, until the end of the war. When Ulfric claimed victory over the Empire, he was shattered, along with the rest of the Forsworn. He lashed out and tried to fight against the Reach and it's new masters, but that went as well as you could expect. After a second crushing defeat in Markarth, and the death of countless Forsworn in it's attempt, he left the Reach, physically and emotionally defeated for the last time by the Stormcloaks. Instead he found a new way to prove himself in the Companions. If he couldn't fight the army of the Nords, he could at least proof he was their equal, maybe even their better.

Name: Sorarne Shield-less

Description: Sorarne is a proud, muscular nord with long blond hair who prefers relatively light clothing, and dawns a heavy set of unremarkable steel armour with an underlayer of cloth.

Primary skill: Heavy Armor, Block, One-Handed

Misc skills: Reading

Disadvantages: Has a bizarre disdain for sunlight.

Backstory: Sorarne is a born-and-raised Windhelm citizen who, prior to joining the companions, enlisted to assist the fight to free Skyrim from the imperials. Third-born noble sons weren't destined for much he reasoned. Yet, once the war was one and his pride filled, he was left with a hunger for battle. A hunger for blood. His time fighting had stirred something base within him, and so, he did not return home. He chose to instead strive forth and seek out one group that could help him with his desire.

Name: Garvunn Sword-Breaker

Description: Tall and broad just as any Nord worth his steel with braided red hair down to his shoulders and a well-kept beard. Wears heavy armor of his own making based on Skaal designs. He'll wear heavy furs if the cold is bitter enough.

Primary skill: A terrifying sight to behold when wielding two-handed blade, and an insurmountable force in his armor.

Misc skills: Considers himself a master smith.

Disadvantages: He's a Nord in Skyrim with imperial sympathies. While he isn't one to start a fight, he doesn't deny this fact when asked. It's all well-known to his kin and shield-siblings that he was born in the Imperial province.

Backstory: Garvunn, born and raised in Bruma, at the very least grew up around his kin and learned the traditions of the cosmopolitan Nords. He took to the blade easily, fought hard, and earned a nickname that followed him well outside of childhood. In his adulthood, he joined up with a ragtag group of "knights" seeking glory and adventure. His newfound compatriots soon turned hostile through a mix of spite and distrust in Garvunn's jovial natures, and pinned a murder on him. He was captured while hiking a trail in the Jerall Mountains and stuck on a prisoner caravan headed to Skyrim. A day's worth of travel goes by when the caravan is attacked by Stormcloaks, allowing Garvunn and the rest of the prisoners to free of their binds and escape in the confusion. Now in Skyrim, instead of returning to Bruma, Garvunn took a more difficult path - Carving his own way in the homeland of his people, discovering his culture, and making a name for himself in the hostile province. He's kept himself well since before the war, and has married and had a child of his own.

We are up to seven characters. I guess a few more and I'll either have to cut off half of you, or make two groups.

@Jboy - I prefer if you went with the elf. Just make him multi skilled, because it makes little sense that archers are only capable in range.

Elf? I didn't make any elves. You mean the Argonian?

Right, yes, I'm dumb. Too many characters to work with. Pick whichever you like more.

Strings it is.

Name: Nicole Silver-Shine

Description: Imperial woman, with a deep blue short hair, with a scar across her left eye. Wearing Steel armor set, except with one pauldron on her right arm, and a steel longsword with engraving on handguard.A long white silk cape to her knees hanging on her back, and she wears white scarf around her face. Ussualy when traveling, she is always on the look out with a serious or nearly no emotions, but if talked to, always comes up energetic, and will always smile.

Primary skill: Smithy, One handed, Shield.

Misc skills: Combat roll, armor/weapon improvement.

Disadvantages: Hates cold. Take alcohol badly (makes her sluggish).

Backstory: Nicole was part of a blacksmith daughter, inside the Imperial city. Once coming to age, she thought of helping her parents on increasing the name of her small shop.But she never enjoyed staying in one place and since their skills that her father taught her, from swinging the hammer, to properly stud, she knew she could do better. Always adventurous, she even paid a fighters guild to train her once she had free time from the smithy. She enjoyed it, and always felt that, she could be a formidable ally, and set to help people in her travel. For that, she seeked the Skyrim as a place to start her journey.

Name: Zahgorim Korunrock

Description: A tall Orsimer warrior with dark olive skin and pale yellow eyes. His head is shaven save for the top where his long hair is tied into a series of dreadlocks at the back of his head. His ears are pierced with multiple rings seemingly carved out of bone.

His face is marked with blood red war paint, drawn in lines on his chin, cheeks, and forehead.

He carries two abnormally long orcish kukri machetes on his belt, both forged from orsinium and in terrible condition. He also keeps a slightly cleaner orcish war axe with them.

Primary skill: Sword fighting, single or dual wielded. Never uses a shield or weapons that will require more than one hand (for him, i.e. giant axes or hammers, but he can handle a long sword in one hand).

Misc skills: High stamina, strong, good at sneaking and speech. He's also a damn good cook.

Disadvantages: He takes his pride too seriously, and doesn't take easily to forgetting grudges. Terrible with mana, and doesn't care for those who use it.

Backstory: Coming from a recluse Orsimer tribe native to the mountain ranges of Skyrim, Zahgorim was raised to worship Talos as just another God because his tribe couldn't really care to give two shits since they were in Nordic land. Of course, the badass Talos grew on his entire tribe and when those fucking elves banished the worship of him and got the Imperial Legion to allow that bullshit, they got hella' pissed off just like the Nords did. The warriors got discriminated 'n' shit because ain't no Nords thought they could let Talos into their hearts, you feel me? But his tribe still didn't give a shit and they fought for the Nords and helped kick some Imperial ass. While all this shit went down more and more of his tribe died from being heroic and eventually almost all of their warriors got their asses killed, including Zahgorim's father. Now with the Nords in charge of everything and the Orsimer getting the ass end of the credit for fighting with the Nords just to stay alive and keep the peace, Zahgorim's tribe is in some serious shit. Zahgorim's promised to bring back some sweet loot after a year of exploring to help redeem his small mountain tribe and keep them all alive.

Better not be any fucking draugr, son.

Could you rework your backstory and character a bit, not make conjuration his main and change his name so it doesn't reference an SS13 character? Maybe a fix in the overall grammar (who am I to judge even).

Here's also a point to work on. On what grounds do you think your character would be fit for Companions of Jorrvaskr even with laxed standards. I understand he's a good speaker, but imagine if I was the Harbinger. Persuade me now why I should allow you to join the guild. Would you withhold the information about your deeds?

I got you fam. I was very drunk when I made that, Sober time!

Name: Abelard "Fire storm" Richter

Description: Ragged Mage robes., A long staff. A small Breton, very old judging by his beard.

Primary skill: Master level Destruction spells, Master of Fire.

Misc skills: Master of Fire spells. He is a legendary Haggler, he could bring a shop to bankrupcy.

Disadvantages: He is very much a Mad man, being very old for his age, it is known to very few.

Backstory: Being a family of nobles, he left his land at a very young age. Seeking glory, he heard tails of brave men and women in Skyrim, Whiterun. After traveling for a long time, he reached Whiterun. After having been trained from Powerful Mages in High rock, the trials they offered were no match for his level. On his travels he made home in many caves and caverns. Finding a cave on the boarder of High-Rock there lay a Staff embedded in rock. After 12 hours of trying to get it out, he managed to get it out. After trying to see what it did, it spawned a flaming.... Thing.... Unknown to him he wished it away very quickly. "By the god's the thing was huge!" He said, finding the power in it, he will not use it unless it is VERY dire.

Could you rework your backstory and character a bit, not make conjuration his main and change his name so it doesn't reference an SS13 character? Maybe a fix in the overall grammar (who am I to judge even).

Here's also a point to work on. On what grounds do you think your character would be fit for Companions of Jorrvaskr even with laxed standards. I understand he's a good speaker, but imagine if I was the Harbinger. Persuade me now why I should allow you to join the guild. Would you withhold the information about your deeds?

I got you fam. I was very drunk when I made that, Sober time!

Name: Abelard "Fire storm" Richter

Description: Ragged Mage robes., A long staff. A small Breton, very old judging by his beard.

Primary skill: Master level Destruction spells, Master of Fire.

Misc skills: Master of Fire spells. He is a legendary Haggler, he could bring a shop to bankrupcy.

Disadvantages: He is very much a Mad man, being very old for his age, it is known to very few.

Backstory: Being a family of nobles, he left his land at a very young age. Seeking glory, he heard tails of brave men and women in Skyrim, Whiterun. After traveling for a long time, he reached Whiterun. After having been trained from Powerful Mages in High rock, the trials they offered were no match for his level. On his travels he made home in many caves and caverns. Finding a cave on the boarder of High-Rock there lay a Staff embedded in rock. After 12 hours of trying to get it out, he managed to get it out. After trying to see what it did, it spawned a flaming.... Thing.... Unknown to him he wished it away very quickly. "By the god's the thing was huge!" He said, finding the power in it, he will not use it unless it is VERY dire.

I swear, I'm going to end up sleeping through the apocalypse at this rate.

Name: Tamira Llervu

Description: Dunmer, ashen skin, taller then most, short crowning hair; dark brown in colour. Wears an old, damaged set of Ordinator's armor, from the end of the third era, however covering most of it with a long, earthen cloak. The armor's pauldrons, gauntlets and boots have all since fallen off or fallen to pieces. She walks with a slight limp to her right. A battered Dreugh-shell shield is held onto her backpack with a leather strap. It bears the polished standard of House Indoril. Harnessed to her cloak are satchels of potions and alchemical reagents. A very large club-like stone pestle clings onto the side of her bag.

Primary skill: An expert alchemist, a slightly lesser practitioner of Restoration, with some very minor skill with maces and shields. Mostly shields. Rather rusty with the maces. A great deal of experience with wearing medium armor, which unfortunately is very hard to acquire in Skyrim.

Misc skills: A very novice skill in Destruction, but reasonably experienced with the art of the Mercantile.

Disadvantages: Dunmer aren't very kindly looked upon by many, much less Dunmer that don't follow the Nine Divines, and exceptionally so Dunmer that were part of the Tribunal Temple. Plus, she's getting old. Really old.

Backstory: Born in the 417th year of the third era, Tamira was born just in time to see the return of the Nerevarine as a child, and to have suffered through both the Blight and the Oblivion Crisis. Born into the lesser echelons of House Indoril in Vivec, Tamira was raised to be a priestess of the Tribunal Temple, a duty that became increasingly synonymous with protectors, as the Ordinators. Tamira fell into step rather quickly, spending her early years training as a healer, and learning absolute devotion to the Tribunal, unaware of their slow deterioration. She witnessed the death of two of her gods. She saw the Oblivion Crisis, the fall of Ald'ruhn. She stood among the dead and dying and did what she could. She bore the disappearance of Vivec with a silent hope of his return. She saw the Red Year, from beginning to end, and did her duty to heal, protect, and eventually evacuate. She stood with her House on the walls of Mournhold, and then hide among the dead and dying as Black Marsh leveled the city. Morrowind was lost. It's great cities lay in ruins, crushed by the wraith of absent gods or the cruel injustice of vermin barely fit for slaves. It's gods were dead or missing, and now the Temple turned to older gods, The three Reclamations, in twisted betray of the old Tribunal. Tamira left. Went to Skyrim, forged a practice for herself as a healer. Her beliefs made her many enemies, but a good healer is worth much to many, and time mends many conflicts. Still, despite the passage of the centuries, she still held onto the absolute faith that one day, Vivec will return. Somewhere along the way, she entered the service of the Companions. The Companions recognize the value in having healers, and she, well she joined for reasons that yet remain her own.

Kek. I was debating on whether or not to somehow tie Ervas with house Indoril as well. Chose not to, as he's too young, with exception made to one element.

Also, Bokaza. As necessary, I can write up more backstory for the char. Whar I put up was about all I could manage before passing out last night.

Name: Amartius Vantinius

Description: A fairly above-average height Imperial, semi-athletic build. Short cut grey hair, shaven face, almost as per Imperial Legion standard. Wears a full set of bent, scratched heavy steel armor with an ebony bracer on his right arm. It would seem his bracer's insignia is extremely worn and deteriorated by time and the elements. While his armor is fairly intact, possibly due to field repairs, a large gash adorns the lower left section of his cuirass, and much of the metal has given way into it. Wears a bandolier stretching from over his right shoulder, to his left side of his waist and then back again to his shoulder. A sharp yet short gladius is set in his sheathe by his right side, and a large tower shield is set upon his back. Upon close examination, a perceptive individual would recognize it's enchanted to be lighter and easier to carry.

Primary skill: Typical sword and board character, except with a short blade and a very large shield. Master in the use of both.

Misc skills: Novice smith, adept swimmer and climber. Expert in the arts of Speechcraft.

Disadvantages: Completely inept in the magical arts, aside from small knowledge in enchantment.

Backstory: Having been born a fair deal of years before the turmoil in Skyrim started, Amartius was born and raised in Cyrodiil by a merchant family, having run the shop by himself on a few rare occasions. Upon coming of age, Amartius was pressed into the ranks of the Imperial Legion and trained in a few forms of melee combat before adjusting best to an efficient, short and quick chopping weapon and a tower shield. Throughout the years Amartius faced belittlement and the same old jokes about weapon symbolization and compensation, though would often cease upon seeing the gladius chop through a man/mer's carotid. Having slowly climbed through the ranks over the years (including a long hunt for a sighting of Chrysamere in Cyrodiil which ended up being an elaborate Thieves Guild ruse with multiple Chrysamere copies scattered about the caves, ruins and towns of Cyrodiil), Amartius reached the rank of Knight Errant in Cyrodiil before being promptly reassigned to Skyrim. Amartius fought in the war against the Stormcloaks, to little avail as soon as General Tullius' strategies began to lead to multiple Legion defeats in critical areas. Amartius deserted the Legion begrudgingly, having sent a letter directly to the Legion Commander in Cyrodiil regarding the terms of his desertion as well as a full status report on the Legion holdings in Skyrim, to which he quoted, "...very much nonexistant, defeat is total and the war is lost." Though Amartius would never meet another Imperial agent in his time in Skyrim as a freelance mercenary and monster hunter, he found himself consistently at odds with the Stormcloak faithfuls near Riften. He never broke the law of the land and only slew his ideological opposition when pursued first.

Not wanting to further test the patience of the local Jarl, and that of the possible lynch mobs that may form, Amartius departed Riften bound for Whiterun to join with the Companions.