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Post by Aphelyon on Aug 19, 2017 13:19:01 GMT -5
Sweet Mother, Sweet Mother, Send Your Child Unto Me
For the sins of the Unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear.
These are the words of the Black Sacrament, chanted in morbid reverence to the Void in the hope that a remedy will appear in the form of a dark figure in the night: the children of Sithis and his bride, the Night Mother. Members of the guild of assassins, the Dark Brotherhood.
This is an ancient family, with years of history and tradition, accomplishments and shames, histories and stories. We are elusive, secretive. We strike fear into the citizens of Tamriel when they hear our name, when they consider even the mere threat of our presence. We are powerful. Or at least, we once were.
The past several decades have been difficult. The Great War decimated much of Tamriel, and our guild along with it. Our members were killed, our Sanctuaries destroyed, until all that was left was one small group in Skyrim. The Falkreath Santuary, led by a Nord woman named Astrid. One last Sanctuary meant hope; we would not yet pass into obscurity. Under Astrid's leadership, the Sanctuary and its members managed to survive, but without a Listener or the guidance of the Night Mother, the Brotherhood could not act effectively, and became little more than a hive of murderers chasing rumors. Hope came once again when the Keeper, Cicero, arrived with the Night Mother's coffin and a new Listener, a khajiit thief named Dar'run, was named. However, Astrid was desperate to keep her power and thus rejected both the Keeper and the Listener, going so far as to attempt to kill both. This ended in ruin for the Sanctuary, leading Imperial soldiers to its threshold and burning it to the ground. Most members were killed in the attack, including Astrid, who with her dying breath attempted to atone for her mistake by giving the Listener her Blade of Woe and sacrificing herself to the Void.
Though the Falkreath Sanctuary lay in ruin, and the Dark Brotherhood was all but wiped out, Dar'run, Cicero, and a few other members managed to survive. They traveled to an ancient, disused Sanctuary in the north Skyrim- Dawnstar- to rebuild the Brotherhood from its ashes. Astrid's death had wiped clean the slate, and though the guild was small, it could begin to renew itself.
It has been two years since. As we step forward into a new year- year 203 of the Fourth Era- the Dark Brotherhood has grown in numbers and strength and is finally ready to truly step out of the shadows, so to say, and begin to reclaim the fear and respect that its name once struck into the hearts of all.
What is Life's Greatest Illusion?
The Dawnstar Sanctuary is located in the small city of Dawnstar on the northern coast of Skyrim. It is said to be one of the oldest Sanctuaries in Skyrim- though how old exactly is anyone's guess- and previous to being reclaimed by the Brotherhood after the destruction of the Falkreath Sanctuary, had not been used in over a century.
Like all Sanctuaries, the Dawnstar one is guarded by a Black Door, which is set into the cliffside a short walk away from Dawnstar's harbor. The first time a prospective member approaches the door, they will be greeted with a question: "What is life's greatest illusion?" Answering correctly will allow a member access to the Sanctuary, while answering incorrectly will cause the door to reply "You are not worthy," and refuse to open.
Inside the Sanctuary, one is first greeted by a small entrance hall. TBA
Roleplay Rules
- Follow all forum rules, as always. -
- No flaming, bashing, trolling, spotlighting, powerplaying, godmodding, etc. -
- No mary sues/"perfect"characters. Your character is almost never going to be the absolute best in the land at anything. Being very good at some things (not everything), however, is entirely acceptable. Your character will be bad at some things. They will have some flaws. They will lose sometimes. They're human. Similarly, though, please don't make your character so awful that they have no good aspects and are mopey and depressed and annoyingly flawed. Give them some space to develop and improve, but also let them develop and improve. -
- As always, keep things mostly pg. Obviously because of the subject matter, this roleplay has the potential to get pretty dark. After all, it's entire premise is murder and occult sacrifice so... yeah, dark themes. Still, keep it within the forum rules. You can get pretty violent, but don't be super graphic about it. Mild language is allowed, but try not to use anything stronger than words like "damn" or "hell," at least not with frequency, and censor it appropriately. And of course, romance is bound to happen when characters are in such close quarters... but please keep that PG. If you would like to roleplay anything that would be considered on the line or beyond forum rules, take it to PM where legally it is out of my control. -
- Please try to be literate and original. Make your characters and their actions unique and meaningful rather than making them a cookie cutter with nothing personal going for them. Contribute to the plot and roleplay in a meaningful way that is enjoyable for everyone. Use good grammar, spelling, etc. At the same time, please don't write a novel every post. If you try to make things too long and complicated it gets boring and tedious. Find that comfortable middle where it's entertaining for you to write and entertaining for us to read. -
- Please keep characters realistic. This goes for appearance where applicable, as well as things like skills, strengths, weaknesses, history, and knowledge. Characters can only know things that they logically would know, so don't meta-game. Keep characters' appearances in line with their race; what you can make them look like in the Skyrim character creator is a good guideline, though obviously you can make their body shape different (try to keep things like hair, eye, and skin colors more-or-less the same though). This also goes for behavior; keep your character's personality, backstory, and all that other stuff consistent and believable. Don't make their reactions wildly arbitrary- everyone has motives for what they do. This also goes for things like roleplay events. When your character attempts to do something, sometimes they'll fail. That's just how it is. You're character can't always be awesome and win at everything. It's not realistic. At the same time, don't make everything always completely awful for your character where they're always miserable and nothing good happens to them. That's just sad. -
- If you are gone for more than two weeks without prior warning, you will be suspended and your characters moved to the "inactive" slot. If you are gone for two weeks after this, your characters will be entirely removed. If you have any ranks- such as a Speaker or Silencer or something- then that rank will be available for other people to fill. -
- I reserve the right to reject or remove people who are not literate enough, who do not contribute well to the roleplay, who are not active, who do not keep in the spirit of the roleplay, or who do not adequately follow the above rules. -
The Five Tenets
These are the rules of the Dark Brotherhood. To break these is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis.
1. Never dishonor the Night Mother. 2. Never betray the Dark Brotherhood or its secrets. 3. Never disobey or refuse to carry out an order from a Dark Brotherhood superior. 4. Never steal the possessions of a Dark Brother or Dark Sister. 5. Never kill a Dark Brother or Dark Sister.
News
Out-of-Character 8-19-2017 Sanctuary is created.
World Info
Date: 30 Evening Star, 4E202 Weather: Very, very cold; overcast, snowy, and generally dark. Chilling breezes, though not heavy winds.
Dark Brotherhood Hierarchy
Hierarchy is traditionally very important to the Brotherhood, as it dictates who has authority over other members, what they have authority over, and how difficult of contracts they have proven themselves to be able to handle.
The Dark Brotherhood is led by a group of five official members, which is called the Black Hand, and which is symbolized by a black hand print on many Dark Brotherhood items, such as its armor and robes. The members represent "four fingers and a thumb," with four Speakers and a Listener. The Listener- the "thumb"- is the leader of the Black Hand and therefore the Brotherhood as a whole, though traditionally the exact identity of the Listener was not known to all members for safety purposes; however, due to close quarters in modern times, most current members do know the identity of the current Listener. The Listener is the only person who is able to hear the voice of the Night Mother, who speaks to them and tells them who has prayed for an assassination contract. The Listener then relays this information to a Speaker, the "fingers," who will find the contractor, work out the details of the contract, exact payment, and finally assign the contract to a different member or pass on the details to a lower-ranking contract distributor. When there used to be many Sanctuaries, a Speaker would be in charge of many of them, and distribute their contracts accordingly. In modern times, this is no longer the case. Because there are fewer members and only one Sanctuary, currently Speakers relay the contracts directly to the member who will carry it out.
The Black Hand, however, does have five more less official members, which are not known to anyone except for the members of the Black Hand. These people are known as Silencers, and are the "nail" of each finger. These Silencers carry out only the most difficult contracts, and are the assassins trusted with the most covert missions of the Brotherhood, including more violent internal affairs such as Purifications (which, fortunately, have not happened in the past several centuries).
The Keeper is another rare, exclusive rank, similar to the Listener. The Keeper is tasked with maintaining and protecting the body, resting place, and coffin of the Night Mother, as well as transporting her when necessary. There is not always a Keeper, as this rank is mostly invoked only when there is a danger to the Night Mother. However, the rank of Keeper is permanent and one does not stop being Keeper once the danger is presumably passed. The Keeper may never again take on a contract and must tend to the Night Mother for the remainder of their life.
Beneath the Black Hand and Keeper are several other ranks, none of which have any particular duties. These ranks, in order from lowest to highest, are initiate, murderer, slayer, eliminator, assassin, and executioner. For the most part, these simply establish a hierarchy, as well as reflect how difficult of contracts the member may receive.
Initiates are the lowest-ranking "members," and have not yet actually become official Brothers and Sisters. These are people who have been contacted and have not yet completed their "test" contract or their first "official" contract to prove their worth. Murderers are the lowest official members, and can carry out only the pettiest of contracts, most of which require very little finesse. Once performing well on an assessment contract requiring a bit more skill, they may advance to slayer. Slayers require at least a rudimentary level of sneaking, planning, and overall strategy, but their missions are still often not too difficult. After demonstrating a great deal of tact, they may be promoted to eliminator, who are skilled at sneaking and planning strategically and taking out lone targets quickly so as to not draw attention. Those who are especially skilled may become assassins, who are extremely adept at plotting, and can take out targets even in public without being caught. And finally, executioners, who are able to complete practically any contract regardless of the situation using a mixture of strength and stealth as well as good strategic skills.
Plots/Contracts/Other Story Stuff
Joining
A few things about the form before you begin. First, please delete categories that don't apply to you, to streamline the form.
Second, please make sure that everything is correct and aligns well, lore-wise. If you're uncertain about it, it's easy to look things up on the Wikia, or to ask me if you are currently unable to do so. This includes things such as race lore, birth signs, and historical events and timelines. If something is uncertain, you're quite welcome to fill in the gaps with your own headcanon so long that it fits well with the rest of the lore. One thing to note is that in this roleplay, we are actually going to use Oblivion's system where characters are primarily effected by their birth signs, giving each character a minor ability or inclination towards certain skills. Standing stones are also a thing, however characters may or may not have encountered and used them; they will also get the boost or ability from standing stones, though, in addition to their birth sign.
If your character is a vampire or werewolf, list that along with rank. Please keep the race distribution realistic as well- for example, since we're in Skyrim there will probably not be all that many Altmer, Bosmer, Khajiit, or Argonians in the Brotherhood, while there would be many more more "human" races such as (in particular) Nords, Imperials, or Bretons.
Please ask if you want to be Speaker or Silencer. As for the rest, try to have a reasonable distribution- obviously, there should be a lot more murders or slayers than executioners, as not everyone has the skill to work up the ranks, or has not been with the Brotherhood long enough. You are also welcome to claim canon characters (Cicero, Babette, Nazir), but please ask first, and please play them as close to canon as you possibly can.
Characters' skills should be a mixture of both in-game skills (for example, your character may be adept with destruction magic or alchemy) and more descriptive/realistic out-of-game skills (for example, they might know a lot about birds, or be proficient specifically with swords rather than all one-hand weapons like in the game). Obviously, your character will not have all the skills, and must be bad at some things as well. Your character must have at least half as many weaknesses listed as skills.
Finally, on items. The first category, notable items, is for non-unique items that are important to your character. For example, a necklace that is a family heirloom, or an enchanted dagger of which they are especially fond. The second category, unique items, is for in-game items that there is only one of in the word; for example, Daedric artifacts or canon named weapons and items. Obviously, only one character may possess said items. I would like to give a caveat for this category, in that for one please keep the NUMBER of unique items owned by your character realistic and fair to others, and please keep the nature of them realistic as well. For example, your character is PROBABLY not going to have named items from Oblivion (it is possible in some situations though), or have items from high levels in multiple different factions, or even just one. This, of course, is situational, but unlike in the games, our characters can't do everything and lead of every faction. Pick one at most, really, and if you're in the DB you really shouldn't be, like, the Harbinger of the Companions or the leader of the Thieves' Guild or something.
Name: Gender: Race: Rank: Birthday & Birth Sign: Physical Appearance: Clothing: Personality: Skills: Weaknesses: Relationships: Notable Items: Unique Items: History: Other:
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Post by Aphelyon on Aug 19, 2017 13:25:15 GMT -5
Summary of Members
Listener: Dar'run Keeper: Cicero Speakers & Silencers: M'rry Executioners: Babette Assassins: Nazir Eliminators: - Slayers: - Murderers: - Initiates: -
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Post by Aphelyon on Aug 19, 2017 13:26:53 GMT -5
Members List
Listener
Dar'run Khajiit || 21 years old || 1 Morning Star 4E182 || The Ritual Dar'run is a tiny suthay female, with dark gray fur and black tabby stripes covering her pelt. Her large eyes are pale blue in color. Her ears are lightly tufted, and around her neck her fur forms a small mane. Her black hair is fairly short, falling in shaggy layers to about the nape of her neck. Her ears are pierced, with four silver rings set into the outside of her left ear, and three on her right. She has a few scars on her body, including a once-deep cut about halfway down her forearm on the outside, and a six-inch line parting the fur on her left shoulder blade. Her tail is quite long and plumy, and she has an extremely thin, narrow build. Her claws are unusually long for a khajiit, and she often sharpens them. || Dar'run rarely leaves the Sanctuary anymore, and so for the most part just wears a simple set of shrouded robes. However, when she does head outside, she instead adorns a set of custom leather armor made for her by her adopted mother, Tar'zasha. When trying to be particularly undercover, she will adopt simple a simple green dress with a dark brown leather corset. Dar'run is a crafty khajiit, coming almost right down to the stereotypes: a thief and killer, adept and getting into places she's not supposed to. However, she is also quite charming, and having been born in and grown up for most of her life in Skyrim, she is quite familiar with Nords and their culture, making it easy for her to get into their good graces and even talk her way into most cities. She is manipulative, and knows when to be forward, when to be charming, and even when to be flirty to get what she wants. She's not the sort of person to take no as an answer: when she wants something, she wants it. This mostly applies to opening locked doors, of course. Dar'run isn't really much one for close friendship or romance; she has never been in or sought out a romantic relationship, and even her close friendships are rather sparse. That's not to say she doesn't care for all of her Brothers and Sisters, but that doesn't mean she's close to them. Though she is a part of the Brotherhood, she still has a heart, and dislikes killing without reason; therefore, except in self-defense, she discourages killing outside of contracts, unless someone's just really, really asking for it. Dar'run is exceptionally sneaky, both when it comes to physically moving around, and also when it comes to picking locks as well as manipulating others into giving her what she wants. She has the advantage of being so small and unimposing that she is very easy not to notice, both while sneaking around and also in general social situations. She has some very basic magical skills- mostly in the destruction category- but nothing profound, and she always found alchemy difficult to grasp. She is a decent fighter- enough to kill if she has the element of surprise, and to defend herself- but she would not consider herself an amazing warrior. She favors small blades and weapons that she can hide, such as daggers. She is alright with a bow, but is far better at hunting wildlife than people. || Dar'run lacks strength due to her petite size, and thus finds melee combat difficult. She will assassinate people bigger and stronger than her, but if they fight back and she can't end it in a few seconds, she will likely be forced to flee. She also becomes easily overwhelmed in direct combat if she has more than one opponent against her. She lacks any trade skills as well, such as smithing or alchemy, making her only means of profit being able to steal or talk her way into/out of things. Dar'run was born in Skyrim in 4E182 on a Khajiit trading caravan. Her mother never really revealed the identity of her father, and the secret went with her to her grave when she was killed by the Thalmor when Dar'run was only a few months old. All that Tar'zasha, Ajihra's sister, knew about Dar'run's father was that he and Ajihra had met through the Thieves' Guild, of which Ajihra was a member. When Dar'run was 16, she left the caravan to join the Thieves' Guild and, hopefully, track down her father. She worked with the Guild for about two years before she ultimately left to pursue her interest in magic at the College of Winterhold, but that experiment was short-lived, as she was unable to progress past the basics. Unwilling to return to the Thieves' Guild, Dar'run worked odd jobs- mostly as a freelance thief- for a few years until a particularly bigoted Nord in Falkreath crossed her the wrong way, and she killed him. She caught the attention of M'rry, who was in the area at the time, and was recruited into the Dark Brotherhood. She managed to quickly gain the respect of her Brothers and Sisters, before eventually being named Listener once Cicero arrived with the Night Mother. Astrid, of course, rejected the notion, resulting in a convoluted series of events during which Dar'run discovered that M'rry was her father, and most of the Brotherhood was wiped out. What remained of the Brotherhood moved to the Dawnstar Sanctuary, and the rest is history. Notable items are the armor made for her by Tar'zasha; a silver ring from her mother. || Unique item is the Blade of Woe given to her by Astrid. Parents are M'rry and Ajihra; adoptive mother is Tar'zasha.
Speakers & Silencers
M'rry Khajiit/Vampire || 224 years old || 16 Evening Star 3E413 || The Thief M'rry is an average-sized, rather unimposing cathay khajiit male who appears at a glance to be in his late teens or early twenties, though his rather weathered appearance and often jaded expression occasionally lets on that he is far older. His fur is pale- almost entirely white- but mottled with a few faint, faded gray stripes on his arms, legs, back, and face, as well as the backs of his ears. His hair is black and falls to to about his mid-back. His shaggy bangs often partially obscure his face, and most particularly his crimson eyes. The longer part of the left side of his bangs is braided and decorated with a couple of black feathers, while the rest is generally worn in a low, loose ponytail. He has narrow shoulders and an overall lithe build, with a long tail and whiskers, and tufted and notched ears. The fur around his neck is also rather mane-like. He has several scars on his body, some more visible than others: most noticeably, two small vertical scars on the left side of his muzzle, a single gash parting the fur of his right shoulder, and a long scar that extends from the slope of his left shoulder down to the base of his rib cage on his right side. His ears are both pierced on the outer sides, with two small rings (one bronze, one silver) set in one below the other near the tip of his right ear, and a larger bronze ring near the base of his left, with some kind of tooth or fang hanging from it. || M'rry has a rather odd assortment of clothes, his shrouded armor consisting of a mix of modern shrouded robes and armor as well as old and worn pieces from longer ago. When around the Sanctuary, he generally wears shrouded robes as they are more comfortable than armor; however, when headed into combat, or when there is the potential of combat, he will wear shrouded armor either under his other clothes or more overtly, depending on how covert he is trying to be. When out and about, he generally dons simple, rather Cyrodiilic style clothing- not that of a peasant, nor of a noble. It generally consists of a long black vest/coat type thing, which comes down to about his mid-thigh and is clasped with bone buttons in the upper stomach area. In warm places, he often forgoes any kind of undershirt, leaving much of his chest exposed by the vest, but when it's cold he will add a black long-sleeved shirt underneath. He wears narrow black pants as well, generally with no shoes and white leg wraps around his calves, though in colder climates such as Skyrim he will wear knee-high boots that are specially crafted for digitigrade khajiit like him. He will often also wear a pair of black gloves, generally pure black ancient shrouded armor. When outside- especially during the day- he covers himself with a worn, ankle-length black traveling cloak with wide sleeves and a hood. M'rry is generally quiet, not really interacting with others, including his Dark Brothers and Sisters. He simply finds that he has no reason to, and after over 200 years, he is reluctant to risk growing attached to them, since they will all inevitably die anyways. Nevertheless, he is quite protective of them, or rather the Brotherhood as a whole- he would not hesitate to tear apart an individual member if he thought they were a danger to the rest. He is observing and aloof, and at times even rather cold. Still, he can be both generous and kind, both to people within the Brotherhood and outside it. If someone is not perceived as an enemy- either because they are actively against the Brotherhood, or because they are a target- then he has no issue helping them, though often in secretive ways. He has a soft spot in particular for poor children, and more than once throughout the fourth era has he shown up on the doorstep of a Sanctuary with an orphan of ambiguous moral capacity by his side. Besides being quite aloof, M'rry is also known for being rather abrasive. He has little capacity for social subtleties such as "politeness" or "manners," something he has never really been able to grasp even since he was a child. He has no issue for being blunt with others, or brutally honest, and both his reputation and his skill in combat- which has been carefully honed for two centuries- protect him from the ramifications of those he occasionally scorns. If one manages to get past his rather uncaring facade and innate aloofness, he is a good and loyal friend, with a rather odd, morbid sense of humor and an endless trove of stories. He considers his vampirisim to be his greatest gift, and only twice has he ever offered to pass it to someone, though he was both times turned down. M'rry is a master at sneaking, picking locks, and using small weapons such as daggers. He is also quite adept at using bows, though he wouldn't say he's a master. He is at least moderately proficient with most kinds of weapons, having had to improvise many times throughout his life, with the exception of shields which he never uses except in emergency. He is also reasonably proficient with alchemy, knowing a few basic potion recipes and generally being able to identify most herbs and at least one or two of their properties. Having had to fix his own armor, clothing, and some gear on occasion, he also has a rudimentary knowledge of leatherworking and blacksmithing, though again he is far from being a master. || M'rry has no knowledge of magic, having never really been able to grasp it. He can't even so much as light a candle or heal a cut. He finds large two-handed weapons to be rather unwieldy and therefore has difficulty utilizing them. Heavy armor also weighs him down, and despite its benefits he refuses to use it. Also, being a vampire, he has a few more inherent weaknesses. Being a vampire of Cyrodiilic origin, sunlight will actually burn him, though fortunately he can avoid this so long as it doesn't touch his skin directly. However, his cloak doesn't fully spare him from its effects, and he will still feel quite fatigued after a while of moving about outside during the day, and his wounds will not heal while in the sunlight, even covered. His other weakness, obviously, is blood. Though the longer he goes without blood the stronger his powers as a vampire get, they also make him look ever more vampiric, making him more easily recognized for what he is and therefore more likely to get attacked. Therefore he must find a supply of blood every few days in order to be able to walk among mortals in relative safety. Notable items are an ancient iron dagger of Cyrodiilic make which he always carries with him, as well as a gold amulet he wears around his neck. || Unique items are Shadowhunt and Sufferthorn. Both are quite old, but because of their enchantments, still appear reasonably new. The former is a simple Cyrodiilic steel bow, but it is enchanted to do extra damage as well as to drain a target's magicka; it also makes the target weak to poison, and prevents weak undead creatures from fighting back. The latter appears as an ancient elven dagger. Like Shadowhunt, it is enchanted to do more damage, as well as to physically weaken the target. M'rry was born towards the end of the third era in the Waterfront District of Cyrodiil's Imperial City. The exact details of his past are not generally relevant at this point, but at 17 years old, he ultimately found his way to Bruma where he eventually killed a group of Nords who had been bullying him for several months. After this, he was contacted by the speaker J'ghasta of Bruma and recruited into that Sanctuary. Due to conflict with a higher-ranking member of the Brotherhood, who happened to be the brother of one of the Nords M'rry had killed, M'rry was switched to the Cheydinhal Sanctuary. There he befriended many of its members, including the eventual Listener, a Dunmer named Dremora Darkrose, as well as the vampire Vicente Valtieri, who ultimately turned M'rry into a vampire. Many of the next events are history, though M'rry's place in them ambiguous: the Purification was carried out, the Black Hand killed off, and a new listener- Dremora- eventually named. M'rry after that time vanished for many years, the beginning of a distinct pattern. To many members of the Brotherhood- though, not so much anymore due to a loss of the Brotherhood's history and lore- M'rry was known to appear only before or during turbulent times within the Brotherhood, making him almost perceived as some kind of omen. The most recent time this happened was in 4E201, around the time Dar'run joined the Brotherhood and Cicero arrived with the Night Mother, with Dar'run being named Listener and Astrid's rejection of that. Up until a month or two after he had met Dar'run, he had had no idea that she was his daughter. After she took her place as Listener, she offered him the rank of Speaker, which he finally accepted. His daughter is Dar'run.
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Post by Longclaw511 on Aug 19, 2017 20:08:53 GMT -5
OMG!!!! I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO MAKE A SKYRIM RP. MOSTLY BECAUSE IM BAD AT MAKING THREADS XD))
Name: Kalanar Gender: male Race: high elf Rank: Assasin Birthday & Birth Sign: 63 years old, Evening Star, The Thief Physical Appearance: He has the yellowish skin a lot of high elves have and a sharp face. His jawline is defined and sharp also. He has a small muscular chest and small but quick arms arms and hands. He stands around 6'3 and weighs about 205 lbs. Clothing: He wears the Brotherhood robes with the hand print in it and black bottoms. He also wears sturdy but lightweight boots so he doesn't lose speed and agility. He usually has the hood up so no one can see his face and possibly recognize him. Personality: He does not really have a humor side of him usually being straight faced and stern. Being that elves are not common in the Brotherhood he focuses on work to prove himself to whoever might doubt him. EverytIme he fails a mission it makes him strive to be even better. Skills: He is very advanced in one handed weapons and Stealth. Those being the most important to him, it's what he worked on the most. Weaknesses: His strongest weakness in alchemy messing up every potion he touches. He tries to practice or hire people to help him when he is on a long journey mission or has spare time to try but he can't seem to get the hang of it. Notable Items: His choice of weapon is dual welding orc swords which aren't aren't long as steel swords but not aren't as short as daggers so it's perfect for him. Unique Items: He has an enchanted necklace that was given to him by his mother allowing him to have small bursts of speed from time to time. History: His mother came to Skyrim for a happy and peaceful life but was prosecuted by the Nords and she didn't want that life for him so she left him at an orphanage when he was about 10. Leaving a note saying to never take the necklace off of him and to take care of him. He swore into the Brotherhood to hopefully take revenge upon those who hurt his family. He doesn't remember much from then but being bullied and picked on and having to live off of scraps. He would never go back to that life and came to the Brotherhood when he was 34 to do so.
I hope it works. Let me know!))
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Post by Aphelyon on Aug 19, 2017 20:21:27 GMT -5
(well... I see quite a few issues with your form- a lot of grammatical errors, as well as some problems with the character. First, his name does not fit his race at all. When I first read the name I thought the character would be a Nord actually, not at all an Altmer, who have far more stereotypically "Elvish" sounding names. Secondly, he is a bit short for a High Elf- not a huge issue, as they could be on the shorter side, but they tend to be quite a bit taller than humans, including most Nords. Finally, his history. It doesn't really explain... anything, honestly. Why he's in Skyrim [which is a pretty important detail considering he's an Altmer] how he ended up in the Brotherhood, and how he managed to attain such a high rank in only two [or less] years. All in all, I'm not sure the form is quite up to the standards of this rp. However, if you can flesh it out a bit more and fix most of your grammatical errors, I'll reconsider.)
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Post by Aphelyon on Aug 20, 2017 15:32:39 GMT -5
(Bumperoni)
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Post by Longclaw511 on Aug 20, 2017 23:06:57 GMT -5
I fixed what I could))
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Post by Aphelyon on Aug 23, 2017 10:37:37 GMT -5
(alright, mostly looks good. The ONLY remaining [possible] issue I see is that if he joined the Brotherhood at 34, and is now 63, he would have joined about 29 years ago, and the current iteration has been around only for 2. This could, of course, be easily explained by him having joined the Brotherhood long before it was decimated, and then having gone into hiding until he realized that it was being rebuilt. Which is perfectly fine and plausible; I can just add a small explanation of that into his history when I add him.)
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Post by literalynxxo on Aug 23, 2017 23:43:28 GMT -5
Hi there! As a Skyrim fan, this roleplay seems quite entertaining to me, and I am definitely considering joining. I would like to make a Khajiit, Bosmer or Dunmer character, but I wouldn't want the roster filled with only the more extravagant races. There has to be a balance, like you said, haha. Would you mind if I did? If not, I understand. We can't have all characters from the other kingdoms, especially since the roleplay does, in fact, take place in Skyrim. I have other characters in mind that can replace them if needed, but I figured it best to ask first instead of filling everything out just for it to need to be corrected completely.
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Post by Longclaw511 on Aug 24, 2017 8:46:01 GMT -5
Ok that would be great. thanks))
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Post by Aphelyon on Aug 24, 2017 14:25:15 GMT -5
(I'll add later. And hmmm. I would say making a Dunmer would be the least uncommon out of those, or possibly Bosmer. But it's up to you.)
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Post by literalynxxo on Aug 24, 2017 18:09:38 GMT -5
Cool! I think I might go with Bosmer for now because I like the idea, but I might create another Nord or Breton character in the future.
Name: Eriulain Pineshade Gender: Male Race: Bosmer/Wood Elf Rank: Slayer Birthday & Birth Sign: 28 years old // 7 Mid Year 4E175 // The Steed
Physical Appearance: Eriulian is a pale, unsaturated-brown skinned elf with pointed ears and a slim appearance, only coming up to about 5' 6". While his small frame doesn't help in brute fights, it serves him well when sneaking in shadows or having to quickly duck away from a blow. His cheekbones, like with most elves, are quite visible and define his face into a pointed shape. His eyes are angled into what can be almost defined as triangles- and in a sense, are like an animals as he has no pupils, but rather fully black eyes. On the rare occasion when you do see any whites, it is when he is terrified out of his mind- which does not happen often at all. The elf has thin eyebrows- one of which that is notched with a small scar-, that seems to be permanently pushed upward in a questioning, righteous, stance. He has a well-toned neck with a collarbone that pokes visibly through his flesh. While he does have his fair share of muscles from climbing through the trees of Valenwood, the male is mostly just skin and bones.
Clothing: Generally, when in the sanctuary, or performing a contract, Eriulian wears his dark brotherhood outfit- which consists of the general red and black shrouded mask, calf-high leather red and black boots, tan leather gloves, and a smooth black top piece. However, when trying to gather information or roaming the streets of Skyrim, he wears a simpleton's tunic and boots, blending in- for the most part, with the crowd.
Personality: Eriulian is quite the embittered, intelligent elf, preferring to plan for things instead of diving right in and hoping it works out. He has to, as his main weapon is a bow and that's not exactly the most defensive weapon when it comes down to the heat of the moment. He's not afraid to be snarky or sarcastic to lower members of the brotherhood when they fault but would be (lightly) praising of them when they succeed. However, the elf is no fool and knows his place, never criticizing anyone above him- that is, not verbally at least. You could say he's quite the good actor: putting on a fake smile and fake kindness to hide his true shrewdness to civilians. This is so he doesn't blow his cover, and if he needs to kill someone, no one would suspect him as he is such a 'nice and kind guy'. This being said, while he's not (truly) the most friendly person, he's more practical- which is to be expected from a person who murders others for a living.
Skills: Like most wood elves, Eriulian is proficient in archery, being taught the craft from a young age. He can hit almost any target from far away, but this is simply from many years of practice in Valenwood. Because of this, a bow his main weapon. Upon entering Skyrim, however, he has learned that sometimes things come down to close range combat, and because of this, he has taught himself to use a dagger. Though not a master at it, he uses the blade quite well. With The Steed as his birth sign- plus the proper frame for it, Eriulian is swift and quick, easily running around and dodging attacks. He has a bit of knowledge about crafting weapons, but is only able to carve wood to create things such as arrows and a bow. While most magic is lost on him, he has been taught a single spell (Command Animal) and often uses it in cases where his target might have a loyal dog companion that is being a bother, easily turning the dog against his master. Why search for a murderer if evidence points to the victims loyal pooch mauling him for a scrap of meat?
Weaknesses: Because he is quicker than he is strong, Eriulian has a hard time going up against more robust opponents. Of course, striking them with an arrow and ending it quick is his preferred method, but if he can't get a good angle then he will have to attack hand to hand. This causes problems, especially if they choose to fight back. The elf cannot fight with heavy armor or two handed weapons, as the slow him down and are difficult to carry long distances. He has slight expeirence picking locks, but struggles most of the time and wastes quite a few picks on some of the simplest safes.
Relationships: Covan Pineshade (Older brother, deceased), Alaail Pineshade (Younger sister, deceased) Notable Items: Eriulian's main weapon is an intricate wooden bow which he carved when he was young. For his secondary weapon, he uses a small iron dagger his brother owned, and he carries a small wooden charm- a horse- which was owned by his sister- around his neck.
History: As a young lad, maybe around the age of seventeen, Eriulian was more... normal, for your average person. He was less serious, and loved to poke fun at the rest of his village. Despite the grim circumstances- rumors of bosmer being slaughtered by the Thalmor without mercy- he managed to stay happy- and alive, for that matter. He grew up without parents, so his older brother, Covan, was the one to look after him and their little sister. Sure there was the rest of the village, but they had their own problems and had to look after their own families. Covan would always find fresh food and clean water to bring home, even when times got rough. He was the responsible one, while Eriulian was the opposite. Eriulian cared deeply for his siblings, but that shouldn't mean that he couldn't go out and explore every once and a while on his own. Covan always got after him when he'd disappear for more than a few hours, concerned that maybe the High Elves had gotten them in their purges. The younger brother simply shrugged off his concerns like they didn't matter. One day, while he was off exploring, he heard screams in the distance- the direction of his village. He raced back home to find everything in shambles- dead bodies flung here and there, homes ransacked- a true nightmare. Much to his despair, his brother and sister were with the rest. He took his bow and arrows from their house, his brothers dagger, and his sister's charm, and fled. The very next day, he decided to leave Valenwood and head to Skyrim Sometimeme later, he arrived in Falkreath. Unfortunately, the young adult was treated with harshness by the Nords who he thought would be welcoming. He quickly grew bitter from being treated like less. He had no respect or worth, and it turned him cold. Needing a way to make money (and having next to no talent in thievery) he decided to become a hunter. He'd take care of problems such as skeevers or the occasional bear in exchange for some gold. This became his profession for a while, but none the less it was still tough living. One day a man approached him if he was willing to... dispose... of someone for him, and the amount he offered was great. He did the job- rather messily, one could say- but it was done none the less. Eriulian became silently known by thieves or lowlifes as the person to go to if you had a grudge. No citizen knew his dark side, but the fellow scum of Skyrim did. The elf didn't quite care if what he was doing was 'bad'. In his mind, they deserved it, singling him out for being a certain race. He continued life like this for a while- a hunter by day, mercenary by night. In his mid-twenties, he had acquired a taste for money. People needed things dead, and they offered quite the pretty penny for it. A few years into his venture, he caught the eye of the Dark Brotherhood. They needed new recruits, and he had a bit of experience. It was a done deal. He joined as an Initiate, but in the past year has quickly moved up the ranks to Slayer.
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Post by literalynxxo on Aug 24, 2017 18:12:04 GMT -5
I hope it's good ":t I spent a while making it, but I know my writing definatly isn't the best.
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Post by Aphelyon on Aug 24, 2017 20:29:04 GMT -5
(looks good to me! The only issue I see with it at all is that of his age, and only because the years don't quite match up. Being born 4E168 would make him about 35 rather than 28, but of course it's an easy fix to just change either his age, or the year he was born, or adjust both slightly.)
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Post by literalynxxo on Aug 25, 2017 1:59:51 GMT -5
Whoops. Yeah, originally I had him as 34 but that just made his backstory a lot more challenging to write. I forgot to go back and change it it seems ^^" It (should) be fixed now!
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Post by shortstop on Aug 25, 2017 16:13:54 GMT -5
Name: Lachlan
Gender: Male
Race: Breton Forsworn
Rank: Slayer
Birthday & Birth Sign: 29 years / 20th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 174 / The Atronach
Physical Appearance: Lachlan is not the first choice one would think of as an attractive man. For one thing, he does not care about personal grooming. Although his skin is deeply tanned from a life outdoors, his long, dark hair, reaching his shoulders, is often unkempt, knotty, and greasy, and his scruff of a beard even more so. His nose has been broken at least once and is a particularly crooked feature of his. Although he is tall and possesses a bit of muscle, he does not, per se, have a kind face. His head is square in shape and his eyebrows and mouth have a natural downturn, making him appear consistently angry. He has several scars, most of them too small or unnoticeable, having been received from bits of rock during mining embedding in the skin. A notable exception is the scar reaching from the back of his neck down his back. He also has intricate facepaint, reminiscent of a Forsworn Briarheart.
Clothing: Although Lachlan owns a set of Shrouded armor and wears it when on a contract or in combat, normally he wears an odd assortment of armor- leather boots, a set of elven armor, hide gauntlets, and a scaled helmet. The reason for this is that these pieces contain the strongest fortify enchanting pieces he has come across, a rare find since an enchantment to help with enchanting is difficult to come across. However, as these pieces only help for that one purpose as they offer neither comfortable or offer defense, he also owns a set of fur armor. While it does offer little defense, it is comfortable, offers warm protection against the cold winds of Dawnstar, and to an outsider makes him look rather non-threatening while also allowing him to carry weapons without attracting attention.
Personality: Lachlan is certainly a calculating individual. He is not one to think about others, which he considers a valued trait in his line of work and can be a little condescending of other people’s weaknesses, which is a little ironic considering he has plenty of his own to contend with. His life has followed an extreme pattern ever since he entered the Sanctuary, and due to his own tendency to not speak much has resulted in the initiates of the Brotherhood calling their enchanter boring. He knows, and he doesn’t care much, seeing as it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. In keeping with that line of thought, Lachlan is one to focus on the large picture and look at the small details later- although he doesn’t delve into abstract thinking too often, he has been called a philosophizer on more than one occasion. He is a meticulous planner on the job, although he often gets held up by the what ifs and more often than not over complicates things. He is not one for lies- he is more of the silent assassin stereotype, although this is not due to cold unfeeling but more to the point that at many times he thinks that words are better left unspoken.
Skills: Lachlan’s main skill is the enchanting of weapons and armor which, although he would never care to admit it, he likes to use bettering the gear of his Brothers and Sisters. Although he can certainly do the job on a contract (with the help of his own heavily enchanted weapons) he most enjoys putting his natural gifts to use, servicing his sanctuary. When it comes to weapons, he doesn’t have any preference or any extreme proficiency. He will use it as long as it can kill quickly and silently. He also knows a little bit of magic, mostly illusion, and employs the muffle and invisibility spells to great effect.
Weaknesses: Lachlan, as much as he hates it, uses his home-brew enchantments on his weapons as a bit of a crutch. While it did help him in his early days of joining the Brotherhood, now Lachlan can hardly plan an assassination without including an enchanted weapon in the mix. If his opponent has a certain resistance to his enchantments, or for some reason he has been disarmed, he has been severely weakened. He also takes a longer time in planning than his Family, and often will not depart the Sanctuary until he has reviewed his plan multiple times over (and often will have to change it later, due to little knowledge about the target.) He is also very stubborn and set in his ways, and does not take criticism lightly, a very proud individual. Nor is he particularly good at manipulating others, and often stumbles over his words in such a situation, one of the few times he will ever be seen flustered.
Relationships: Weylin (Brother) [Deceased]
Notable Items: Other than Lachlan’s enchanting set, he has nothing in particular very special to him, other than the first dagger he ever enchanted, steel, which deals a miniscule stamina drain. Nevertheless, he stores it under his mattress, for reasons he cannot, or will not, explain.
Unique Items: The Black Star.
History: Lachlan was born, not out of a love between people, but in a time in which soldiers were greatly desired for his kinsman, the Reachmen, later known as the Forsworn. He was born in 4E 174, the year of the Reachmen’s Rebellion in Markarth. The first few years of his life, he grew up in the independent kingdom of the Reach, which he barely remembers and was told tales about wistfully by his mother later in life so often that he knew the story by heart. He was not present during the Markarth incident, having been removed from the city along with other children hours before the battle. After most Reachmen officers were killed when Ulfric Stormcloak retook the city, Lachlan’s father was among the first Forsworn Briarhearts to be created as the group formed an uneasy alliance with the Hargravens inhabiting the wilds, which later turned into near worship of the creatures. He grew up in a harsh environment, being taught a mixture of different combat styles from a young age, from destruction to archery. Due to the Forsworn’s war being so far away, he lost interest, being far more interested in the different deities, gods, and Daedric Princes that his people worshipped. Instead of Destruction magic, which the overzealous Forsworn tended to lean towards, he became more interested in the more passive schools of magic, such as Alteration and Illusion. Never one for bluntness, and more of a fan of subtlety led him to feel more and more disconnected from the cause of the Forsworn, although there was no denying that the satisfying slice of flesh, the raw pain in someone’s voice as they left this world and passed onto the next, interested him deeply, though he couldn’t explain exactly how. It didn’t help that he grew to harbor a deep hatred for the Hagravens as he grew infinitely disgusted by the process of creating Forsworn Briarhearts, of which his father was one. It didn’t lead to him leaving the Forsworn intentionally, rather, when he was twenty years old and his camp was raided, forcing its members to either scatter or die, he realized he didn’t really want to go back. His mother had died in battle a few years before, his father barely recognized him, and his brother only cared for the purpose of the Forsworn, which he could not have cared less about. Older Bretons who joined the Reachmen after leaving one of the greater cities spoke of different ways of living, so there he went, completely indifferent to what he had left behind him. Once traveling to Falkreath, he wasn’t sure what to do with his life. Although he heard whispers of the Brotherhood, he knew no way of joining, rather, he decided to head North, to the College of Winterhold. After spending a year chopping wood in Falkreath, he had enough gold to buy a horse, some slightly improved weapons, including a bow, and set off for Winterhold. He enrolled into the College as an Illusion student, and mastered the Invisibility spell, but could not seem to go any higher. Frustrated by his failure, and remembering the shrines back in the Forsworn camp, he took a ride to the Shrine of Azura, to pray for her mercy and guidance. There, he met Aranea Irileth, and embarked on a journey to find the Azura’s Star. He became intrigued by Nelecar’s use of the soul gem, and interested by the elven mage’s work. Upon finding the artifact, he immediately went to Nelecar, and turned his back on Azura’s light to travel further into the darkness. He cleansed the gem, and although he did not follow the path of Malyn Varen, he returned back to the College of Winterhold two months later, leaving the path of Illusion and instead turning to enchanting. With the help of the Black Star, he advanced faster in his training than the College had seen in a long time. He delved into the Midden and began to kill larger and larger creatures, eventually moving onto humans as he realized how much stronger his enchantments could become when fortified with human souls. When the College learned of his fascination with the dead, as well of his possession of the Black Star, they believed he was in association with Malyn, and was thrown out of the College. He didn’t care. He had learned, as far as he saw, all the college had to offer, and had combined his three passions, fighting, death, and magic, into one. He moved to Dawnstar and began to practice there, killing travelers, adventurers, hunters, people who would not be missed in the wilds, filling and refilling his prized soul gem again and again, until the Dark Brotherhood relocated. He joined immediately, rising quickly through the ranks with the help of his special weapons.
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Post by shortstop on Aug 25, 2017 16:16:53 GMT -5
(Finally! Been working on him on and off since I've seen this and I'm finally done. I'm also thinking of creating a female Nord but I'm just going to wait to see if you have any comments on Lachlan before I start on her.)
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Post by Longclaw511 on Aug 28, 2017 0:07:17 GMT -5
So do you want to start to rp yet?))
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Post by Aphelyon on Aug 28, 2017 12:05:32 GMT -5
(yo sorry for vanishing, I've been busy. Yeah, everything looks good. I'll get to adding very shortly; you all can go ahead and start. As soon as I get the chance I'll throw my Khajiit in there to get some contracts and whatnot rolling)
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Post by shortstop on Aug 28, 2017 13:26:24 GMT -5
(Got it. Working on a starter now
EDIT: Crud. I just realized I made an enchanting-focused character when there is no arcane enchanter in the Dawnstar Sanctuary. Forgot that, as in my game I'm too sad to finish the Dark Brotherhood questline since mostly everyone will die, and there is one in the Falkreath Sanctuary so I just figured...
Anyways, I wanted to ask your opinion on what I should do with Lachlan? I mean, I always could say he owns Heljarchen Hall and uses the arcane enchanter there, or, with your permission, we could put one in the Sanctuary. If neither of those options is okay, I could edit Lachlan's character so that his skill is Alchemy instead.)
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Post by Aphelyon on Aug 28, 2017 16:13:48 GMT -5
(I see no reason there c ant be one added to the Santuary. After all, the events in the RP haven't been 100% the same as in the game so that's something that would be perfectly reasonable to change.)
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Post by Longclaw511 on Aug 29, 2017 21:34:02 GMT -5
So can I go off of your starter shortstop?))
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Post by shortstop on Aug 30, 2017 19:14:04 GMT -5
"His heart beat only once before it was pulled from his chest..." Lachlan read under his breath, skimming over the last few paragraphs of A Tragedy in Black for what must have been the twelfth time since he had received this copy at the College of Winterhold, when he was still an apprentice there. He sighed, snapping the book shut. He supposed he could not put off his responsibilities any longer. He left the plate he had used for his apple this morning on a stack of dirty dishes that he had gathering neatly until he could make a run to the well for some water to clean them off in, then picked up the gloves he was enchanting that day and the Black Star. As he made his way over to the enchanting table that he had as well as claimed for himself, since hardly anyone else in the Sanctuary used it half the time, he ran a loving finger across the Daedric Artifact. The soul currently trapped inside was that of his last contract, a rather crass Argonian employed on the Windhelm docks. Although it had only been the second, perhaps the third time he had set foot in the city and he hadn't even bothered to learn the lizard's name before he had taken his life, he had felt particularly good afterwards- seeing the conditions that the folks lived in down there, if he hadn't done it, someone else would have over something as trivial as a warm bed or a scrap of food. He doubted whoever had ordered the contract lived the same way, as someone who had the money to pay for an assassin (especially one from the Dark Brotherhood) probably wasn't fighting with the lizard over something as trivial as those things. More likely that he had managed to anger someone within the city for going where he wasn't supposed to, or perhaps had tried to take more than his fair share from his boss. Not that any of it mattered now. Once he reached the table, he set aside the gem and focused on the task at hand, enchanting the gloves to help with lockpicking. He had figured, after that last job, that was a skill he needed help in, after breaking several picks on the victim's lock. Though he wasn't opposed to sharing the gloves, if someone else asked. He was just bored, an affliction he often encountered between contracts. He wasn't really close to anyone in the Sanctuary, yet if one of them asked him to enchant something for him, he'd jump at the chance. On one occasion, he had even sold an enchanted dagger to one of the Khajit caravans, making up some story about finding it in a ruin. Not that they cared how he'd found it. After all, he was sure they hadn't gotten the soul gems he bought from them from a passing traveler. He smiled privately at the thought, then began to cast his spells on the soul gem and the gloves, linking them together, and fell into the bliss of routine.
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Post by Aphelyon on Aug 30, 2017 22:13:57 GMT -5
A small Khajiit knelt at the base of the black coffin which sat propped against the wall near the entrance to the Sanctuary. Head bowed, eyes closed, and hands folded neatly in her lap, she whispered quietly to herself, as though praying, though her soft words were impossible to make out.
Many Brothers and Sisters passed by, in and out of the Sanctuary, as she sat there, but she seemed to notice none of them, even those who paused to stare or who murmured to each other as they passed by- none received so much acknowledgement as a flick of a whisker or a twitch of an ear. For a good twenty minutes the Khajiit knelt nearly as still as a statue, her attention exclusively on her private conversation with what seemed like herself.
Eventually, a second Khajiit entered the Sanctuary, shaking snow from his shoulders and pulling the black hood from over his ears. He stopped as he caught sight of the first Khajiit, standing idly next to the doorway and watching her for several moments, ears turned in her direction as though to catch any one of her words, and blood-red eyes narrowed with some emotion impossible to discern. Finally, the female stirred, turning one ear in the direction of the male.
"Father."
This time, she spoke loud enough to hear, finally opening her eyes as she turned her head to gaze up at the other Khajiit. The white-furred male shifted uncomfortably, returning her greeting with a curt nod.
"Dar'run knows this one hates it when she calls him that."
A grin crossed the female's face as she began to stand, swinging her tail to balance herself as she got to her feet. "I know." Though her voice carried the accent of Elsweyr, her dialect was not very Khajiiti at all. "That's why I do it." She punctuated with short laugh, then tilted her head. "How went the contract?"
The other Khajiit shrugged. "It went. Not good, nor badly. Has she been given more contracts?"
Dar'run frowned. "You know I hate it when you insist on using that dialect. And yes."
The white male let out a snort. "I know. That's why I do it," he echoed. "Anyhow... I suppose I shall let you get to giving them out, if that is the case. I presume there are no more for me quite yet."
The female shook her head. "No. Likely next week. Besides, you must let your younger Brothers and Sisters have a chance," she teased. She glanced through the Nordic metal grate, past the stairs to the common room below, where several of the other members of the Brotherhood rested. "You need time to rest, anyways. You've been on the move practically nonstop as of late."
The male let out a sigh. "We have had this conversation before, Dar'run." He let out a wry purr. "Now go, give the others something to do before they go crazier than me."
"Or what?"
"I'll box your ears!"
"Fine, Father," Dar'run teased, slipping around the other Khajiit and heading downstairs. The male rolled his eyes, watching her for a moment before turning to head towards his room.
(sorry it's so long lmao)
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Post by Longclaw511 on Aug 31, 2017 0:28:40 GMT -5
Kalanar walked up the stairs to the main entrance of the sanctuary. Usually anticipating his next contract Kalanar would shake with excitement. But today was off. He walked glumI'll not sure what to make of himself. His last mission went well but not in the way he thought it would. A mistake turned into a good decision but with a price. He lost the life of one of the citizens before completing his mission. The one thing he doesn't want to do is hurt families the way his was hurt. K owing that he could not do anything about it now, he tried to hold his head high. Telling himself it won't happen again and he'll do better next time in another situation alike.
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Post by literalynxxo on Sept 5, 2017 17:10:53 GMT -5
(woahg I'm not used to writing roleplay responses this long. Sorry if it's not that great ^ ^" )
To master the art, one must practice..
Eriulain pressed himself against the wall of the Sanctuary, sitting with his feet flat on the floor and his knees bent upward. The elf gave a deep sigh, his forcing his eyelids to cover over his dark eyes. A knife- the blade of his fallen brother, Covan- laid flat against his gloved hands. The pale brown skinned Falkrethean (? not sure what to call him. whoops) had the image of it plastered in his mind. The sharp, jagged edges rested just inches above his hand, held up only by the handle.
One must find balance...
He carefully pushed the butt of the dagger upwards, so the blade pricked slightly into his hand. Within seconds, the knife was standing upright, wobbling slightly from the movement.
Let it settle... and....
Eriulain opened his eyes, a sense of calm washing over him.
Very good..
Just as he was about to close his eyes once more and settle a beautifully carved wooden arrow on his kneecap, Kalanar came bursting through the sanctuary entrance, and Dar'run slid down the stairs. Distracted by the sudden movement, Eriulain turned his head- just for a second- and the blade went tottering to the floor with a solid clink! The wood elf gave an annoyed groan.
"Well, there goes practice," he growled under his breath, brushing off his Dark Brotherhood Cloaks as he stood reluctantly. Eriulain turned to Kalanar, impatience flashing in his eyes as he glowered at him. "Why did you come stomping in here in a bad mood? Contract go wrong?"
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Post by Longclaw511 on Sept 5, 2017 22:13:31 GMT -5
My replies usually aren't long at all so sorry if mine are too short.))
Kalanar nodded to Dar'run as they passed and looked up at Eriulain with a straight face. "Yeah it did. And it's not happening again, I can promise you that." He grumbled. He looked down to see the dagger on the floor. "Are you going to pick it up or is it magically going to appear in your hand?" He said with a little sarcasticness in his voice. Before waiting for an answer he slid the dagger on top of his shoes and flicked it into his hand. He caught the blade flat on his palm and handed it back to Eriulain with the handle towards him. He was already having a bad day and wasn't going to deal with anyone else's attitude. All he needed was a quick walk outside to cool himself down but seemed like he wasn't allowed to have it.
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Post by shortstop on Sept 13, 2017 17:52:47 GMT -5
The gloves were finished rather quickly. After all, Lachlan much preferred smaller items, like rings or necklaces. Although the strength of the enchantment decreased as the size of the item did, it was almost worth it, as it was much less complex and took less time. Besides, it was easier to hide the telltale glow of such items when they were smaller. He heard voices from the hallway and winced at the interruption of his concentration, but he was almost done, anyway. After finishing the final incantation, he slipped the gloves on, picking up the Black Star and examining it out of habit. Soul Gems were usually no good for use after one time, usually cracking or losing the luster in the stone. He was always in awe of the Star, of how it was just as perfect when a soul was contained inside and when there wasn't. Now the only thing that remained was to test it out, so he tucked the Star into his satchel and left, scooting around the Alchemy lab that was tucked into the wall. He cast a glance at it as he left. Maybe I should start practicing more, he mused to himself. He certainly picked up enough ingredients moving from city to city, though he normally sold them to build up his own personal treasure trove. Perhaps one day he could afford Heljarchen Hall and build up a storehouse. Or maybe the Brotherhood would prefer if he bought a house further away. After all, now that the Brotherhood was rebuilding, they'd need another sanctuary somewhere in the province of Skyrim. He didn't care too much about whether he would run the place himself, only that he remained involved with the organization. Perhaps he could ask Babette to bite him, to remain young. Or perhaps he could be like Festus Krex, the famously ancient Destruction assassin who had only died two years past.
He shoved away his thoughts of the future impatiently. This wasn't the first time his thoughts had run away without his permission, and it wouldn't be the last.
Stepping out into the hall, he grimaced at the sight of the Assassin, his fellow Slayer, and the Listener all talking together. Most likely discussing contracts, so he supposed he'd have to be involved. The testing of the gloves would have to wait. "Hello," He said, a tad awkwardly. Having not caught any of their previous conversation, he didn't even attempt to interject into it. He stared at the dagger up on the floor and then back up at the two men, wondering in the back of his mind what the two had gotten themselves in a tiff over this time. Living with such a strong pair of personalities, they were bound to clash often, over the smallest things as well. Not bothering to ask about the dagger, he leaned himself against the wall, arms folded, and looked over at the Khajit, unsmiling. If she had some contracts, he wanted to be the first on the list.
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