**Out of Character**
IGN: Theepicdwarf
Age: 15
How did you find us? I was in the search for a Elder Scrolls RP, after playing both Oblvion and Skyrim, and studying the lore.
What Roleplay experience do you have? I've roleplayed on previous Minecraft servers, and many years on random sites.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: The act of knowing much about a game (or lore) to determine your actions in a roleplay.
Define Power-gaming in your words: To use an action to force another character to do something that they would normally not doing.
Define God-Modding in your words: To do an outrageously over-powered action that is beyond the power of said character.
**In Character**
Name: Doge (Pronounced Dowge)
Nickname: Slashes-Much-Faster
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Race: Argonian
Appearance: Greenish skin and a bright red neck.
Personality: Kind and generous, but quick to anger
In-game RP example: Doge sits at the table, greeting the lost traveller into his home. "Ah, greetings Nord. What brings you here?" The Argonian asked, handing him a tankard. (Kindness)
Doge smashes a plate on a table, glaring at the Dunmer that sat across from him. "I suggest you shut your mouth before you end up with a dagger in your back!" (Anger)
Background: (Be detailed and in-depth. Also explain how you came to be in Akavir.)
He originally hails from Black Marsh, off of a small settlement on the south coast. During a pirate raid on said settlement, the pirates kidnapped him, raising him as one of their own, training him in using a cutlass. While on a raid in Akavir, he was left behind when he was persumed dead in a burning building, only to be rescued by a Imperial who gave him some gold and sent him on his way.
(Second Attempt)
**Out of Character**
IGN: Theepicdwarf (Sadly)
Age: 15
How did you find us?|
I was looking for a good Elder Scrolls Roleplaying server, since I am both fond of Elder Scrolls and RPing.
What Roleplay experience do you have?|
I’ve RP’ed on previous Minecraft sites, A twitter RP account that recently hit 600+ followers, and many other miscellaneous sites.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: To use knowledge of a game to influence and action.
Define Power-gaming in your words: To force another character to do something unrealistic, or something that could’ve been avoided.
Define God-Modding in your words: To use powers that are much beyond the powers of said character.
**In Character**
Name: Dan-Za
Nickname: Slashes-Swords-Faster (Cyodillic Name)
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Race: Argonian
Appearance: Dark Green skin, Normally clad in dirty and dark clothing, with a strong build.
Personality: Although while being Kind and Hospitable, he can be quick to temper and enjoys playing practical jokes. (Like most Argonians, he worships the Hist.)
In-game RP example: The plan was perfect! Everything was in just the right place, to make sure the prank went perfectly. As soon as someone sat down in that chair, it would collapse, pulling the tripwire, sending the bucket toppling down onto the person’s head! Too bad the person to sit in the chair was the ship’s captain! “Wait, sir!” The Agonian pushed the captain out of the way, only to have the bucket of ice-cold water fall onto his own head. “What in Oblivion just happened, Dan-Za?” Dan-Za got up, shivering from the water. “I-It must’ve been one of the crew -members, sir! You know how troublesome they can be.” About 3 hours later, Dan-Za found himself scrubbing the entire ship, out in the rain.
Background: (Be detailed and in-depth. Also explain how you came to be in Akavir.)
Dan-Za originally hails from Black Marsh, off of a small settlement on the south coast. During a pirate raid on said settlement, the pirates kidnapped him as a child, raising him as one of their own, training him in using a cutlass. While on a raid in Akavir, he was left behind when he was persumed dead in a burning building, only to be rescued by a Imperial who gave him some gold and sent him on his way.
What Roleplay experience do you have? Some random non-whitelisted servers.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Meta-gaming is using information you have learned OOC towards your advantage IC.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Power-gaming is not giving your opponent a chance to reacting, such as stating that you hit them with your sword without their chance to respond.
Define God-Modding in your words: Being completely invincible in combat. Dodging all attacks thrown at you. Blowing someone up with the flex of your pinky.
Appearance: 5'9" Slim and Agile. Has short semi-spiked blonde hair. Natural white Bosmer skin. Wears a white cloth shirt under a brown leather tunic. Also wears brown leather chaps, boots and gloves. Keeps a quiver of arrows on his back, and a steel dagger on his left side. On his right side are an assortment of random potions and poisons. He usually keeps his bow in his left hand, ready for action.
Personality: An amicable hunter with a sense of humor. He can be serious when necessary and quite deceitful to his strangers and his pray. Tends to unintentionally try and change the topic of conversations to hunting most often. He often play practical jokes on his friends like pouring lingering stamina damaging poisons into their food. He would kill a dragon and stab a troll in all three of its eyes to rescue a friend. He keeps away from alcohol because he believes it clouds your judgement and actions. He treats women with respect and the utmost priority. He is a bit on the dangerous side when it comes to his actions.
In-game RP example: *Fillimir knocks on the door to a cottage somewhere in the mountains of Cyrodiil.* *A large, surly, Nordic man opens the door and examines the Bosmer, then gives a frown.* "Why are you here?" Asks the Nord. "I was wondering if I could take shelter in your cottage. It is getting dark, and I don't wish to face the creatures that these mountains have to offer." Explains Fillimir. *The Nord gives a grunt.* "Fine, come in, but don't touch anything. You may sleep on the rug." "Oh, thank you." Says Fillimir as he rushes through the doorway. Around half of an hour later, the Nord is cooking some food for him and his guest. "You seem to be well equiped. Why couldn't you Brave the mountains untill you reached Bruma?" Asks the Nord. "I don't want to take any chances." Replies Fillimir. "It doesn't make any sense to me." *The Nord is paying attention to the food and not watching Fillimir.* *Fillimir carefully knotches an arrow and aimes it and the Nords head.* *The Nord turn to see Fillimir aiming at him and quickly ducks as the arrow flies above his head. Enraged, he then transforms into a Werewolf.* *Fillimir smiles.* "I was hoping to catch you in this form." *The Werewolf charges at Fillimir and attempt to claw him, but Fillimir was swifts enough to only get part of his sleeve torn.* *Fillimir promptly knotches another arrow to hit his mark in the eye.* *The Werewolf falls with a howl and Fillimir smiles again.* "Another one for the wall."
Background: Fillimir was born in Falinesti, the great moving tree of Valenwood. He spent much of his childhood bow hunting with his father, and killed many trophies. Fillimir's time spent with his mother allowed him to learn the art of alchemy, to an extent. Fillimir gave his life to the bow, and could see his future with it, but he never imagined the prey that he would hunt. When Fillimir was 30 the conflict in Skyrim began, and the Empire was searching for soldiers to fight against the Stormcloaks. Many of his friends took up in arms to fight the Nords, and so did Fillimir. Most of his time was spent defending forts or caravans and he never saw much combat. Whenever he did see combat it would usualy involve some spotting some Stormcloak scouts and then shooting them with other bowman. He thought that soldier life would be more fast paced than sitting in fortified walls or walking along side a few horses. When he was 32, at the end of the war, Fillimir took part in defending Solitude from the attacking Stormcloaks. The only reason he survived was because he was taken prisoner. Shortly after his capture he was released when peace between the Stromcloaks and the Empire was found, and he was immediatly discharged. While the Thalmor and the Aldmeri Dominion remained a threat, Fillimir was mostly untouched be the conflict, because he was protected be the trees of Valenwood. He soon found staying in his old stomping grounds boring and set out to hunt exotic animals all around Tamriel. The first were-creature he met was a wereboar in the sands of Hammerfell. It proved a worthy opponent, and gave Fillimir a bleeding wound, but an arrow to the knee and a dagger to the skull proved to stop it ( . He had never felt such a rush before. Fillimir saw the were-creatures of Hiricine as his prey from that day. He worships Hiricine for the sport of hunting but doesn't wish to become were-creature. He has no hatred for the were-creatures, and hunts them purely for sport. He had heard about Akavir for around half a century and the recent happeneing made him curious. He thought the land might need experienced hunters to help with its issue, so scrapped together some money from selling hides and chartered the next ship to Akavir.
IGN:
Age:15
How did you find us? I've joined before
What Roleplay experience do you have? Akavir, and some other medieval roleplay servers
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Using Outside knowledge that you use for your character to abuse for personal gain
Define Power-gaming in your words: Power-gaming is not giving your opponent a chance to reacting, such as stating that you hit them with your sword without their chance to respond.
Define God-Modding in your words:Being completely invincible in combat. Dodging all attacks thrown at you. Or being able to do things your character normally wouldn't be able to do
**In Character**
Name:Raxleon Macrin
Nickname: (Optional) Leon
Age: 21
Gender:M
Race: Imperial
Appearance:Leon is a well-Built Man, he is 6' on the dot, lush brown hair that is no longer than his shoulders, he proudly wears a scar on his right cheek from an brief tussle with a pack wolves. You can also notice the tracings of a small beard. He has a pair of sky blue eyes. His calloused hands are the hands of a working man.
Personality:Leon is a kind gentle man, he is playful but knows when to be serious, he also knows how to hold a grudge! He loves to work. Being young he also loves to party and get into trouble. A lot. A born leader Leon loves to help make plans and get things in motion, he is no king or ruler of anything but he could lead a small group of men to battle and lead them with confidence. Through his time in akavir he has become a better skilled warrior and also much stealthier.
In-game RP example: (Include dialog)
Leon was in no mood to deal with those drunken bastards he used to call firends, but he needed a drink and he didn't care.
When he opened the doors to the bar one of the men immediately called to him
"Leon *hic* how the hell are ya?!"
"Shut it Orius, Im not in the mood right now."
"Oh come now *hic* you were always up for a party back when we first met *hic*"
"Yes well maybe I've Learned my lesson and i decided not to take any more of your crap, you drunken oaf!"
Orius pracitcally jumped over the table.
"what you just say to me?!" He brought his fist up, at this point Leon knew that his "friend" had been waiting for a fight all night
"If it's a brawl you want then a brawl you'll get"
Orius took the first swing, a hard left hook but Leon easily dodge it
"Come on Stand still!" Orius shouted
Orius took another swing this time it connected with Leon's shoulder, Leon stumbled a bit but he recovered. This time Leon stood up and swung his fist a decent left jab followed by a right upper-cut, a move his father had taught him when the used to wrestle in the yard.
Orius stumbled backwards dazed and confused. He Charged at Leon with all his might and he dropped his shoulder in an attempt to throw him across the bar. but Leon side stepped and extended his leg in an attempt to trip Orius. Orius Fell with an amzing crash and he was out like a light.
"Well you know what they say" The Bartender, who had watched the whole thing, said "The drunker they are, the dumber they fall."
Background: (Be detailed and in-depth. Also explain how you came to be in Akavir.) Leon was born in raised in Skyrim he lived throught the great war between the Imperial's and Stormcloaks as a solider for the Imperial army. He was greatly fond of his father, who had raised him and his younger brother since Leon was 5 years old because his Mother had died from illness. Leon's Father Taught him everything, Basic handy skills, sword fighting, and even a little bit of the arcane arts. After the war Leon decided that he had gotten all that he wanted from Skyrim and that he wanted to see more. He had heard of a place called Akavir and all of the amazing sights and adventures that could behold there. He worked around doing odd jobs and chopping wood until he had earned enough for the next boat to Akavir and his adventure had truly began.
How did you find us?: I have been on the akavir role-play server before but it was a while ago so I wanted to come back
What role-play experience do you have?: I have played a few role-play based DnD games, I usually make my TES characters role-play based (Ex: A ranger that would only be able to use hide armor, steel swords and an imperial bow). Also I have written a few short stories so maybe that counts for something?
Metagaming in my own words: Abusing other things like phone, Skype or out of game chat to give yourself an advantage by knowing what is happening in other places and being able to stage things out like a surprise attack OOC.
Powergaming in my own words: Being Op and out of reasonability as a character. This means hiding underground (Seeing how it is minecraft) and waiting for someone to come and killing them unreasonably.
Godgaming in my own words: Doing things in character that are physically impossible as a character. Things like lets say you are having an RP fight and you're about to be stabbed and killed. It just so happens that you like this character so you leave your computer and go do something else. This leaves your character to live another day and your opponent ed off. This is not ok.
**In Character**
Name: Talas (Pronounced Tay-lus)
Age: 33
Gender: Male
Race: Bosmer (Wood elf)
Appearance: 5'5. Brown hair. Wears furs and favors the bow and daggers, even though I'm more of a sword man myself.
Personality: Talas is a very nice wood elf. He is not a big fan of killing others but he will if he is threatened. Talas is not very easily angered and keeps a warm smile most of the time. As a wood elf he is very attuned with nature and follows the green pact, even outside of the forests of Valenwood. The reason he does not like killing others is that the green pact requires that he devours the corpse of the every person he has killed in (At most) three days. He is strictly carnivorous and will not harm flora of any kind. His crafts include monster hunting and bone weapon making as well as being skilled with a forge.
In-game RP example:
Guard: You there, Wood Elf, what brings you to Skryim?
Talas: Just traveling, can I be of any help to you?
Guard: Yea, you can get out of my city, damn elf.
Talas: -Talas simply nods starts to walk past the guard-
Guard: The city gates are that way -points the opposite direction-
Talas: Yes I am quite aware, I have to go and gather my belongings -Talas smiles
Guard: Don't you mock me elf! -Guard draws his sword-
Talas: -Talas calmly keeps walking-
Guard: Grah! -Guard lunges at Talas-
Talas: -Talas slides a dagger made of bone from his sleeve and simply sticks it behind him, impaling the enraged guard- I'm sorry...
Guard: -Guard falls over and clutches the wound-
Talas: -Starts to walk away but drops a healing potion on to the guards hand- Drink up. Can't have you dying over such a silly thing such as that.
Background: Talas grew up as any normal wood elf child would. Learning the ways of hunting and learning to love and protect nature. At the age of 20 Talas grew tired of the same old thing, going out, hunting for the day, returning to his lovely wife and going to sleep. Being restless, Talas walked outside, gazed at the large forms of Masser and Secunda and whispered to himself "I wish something exciting would happen around here. Everyday its the same thing and I just cannot do it anymore." Talas went to sleep and the next few weeks were the same, nothing changed...Until the 22nd of Frostfall. A boy, no more then 13 ran around the small settlement of migratory trees to wake up the warrior Bosmer. He shouted "Everyone get up! Kajiit have been spotted a few leagues east felling the tallest of our trees! Immediately he burst from his bed, grabbed his bow off the wall and his wife followed after. They met up with the a group of 10 other Bosmer and ran through the trees, rushing to save the things most important to them. Then he heard it. The sickening sound of a tree collapsing to the mossy floor of the forest. In rage he rushed ahead of all the others and started firing arrows at the first thing he saw. These were the kajiit but they had archers as well. The kajiits well outnumbered the small group but they did not know Valenwood like Talas and the others did. After dispatching a group of 8 with a well placed volly, he heard a scream of a woman. Not a scratchy kajiit scream but...the scream of his wife. "No, no. NO!" He though with worry. Rushing through the forest, he found her. Dead. The battle continued, but Talas did not join. After the battle, for Talas, no drinks were drunk, no meat was eaten. Talas cursed himself for being so stupid, "If only I hadn't made that damned wish! Then...Then she would still be here." Sad and broken Talas decided to leave for farther lands, in search of a better life. A few years passed and he had arrived in hammerfell. Of course he did not take a direct path there, he had gone to Cyrodil first and made gold as a huntsman and bone-weapon maker. Talas had made enough gold to pack up and leave for other lands, and his feet carried him to Hammerfell. Here Talas met a man that went by the name of Sader. Sader was an old healer, a priest of arkay. Apparenly in his prime, he was a hunter. Not the type of hunter that Talas is no, a monster hunter. Over the next few years Talas would learn from Sader, the way of peace of a priest and deadliness of a monster hunter. After 3 more years Sader died of old age. Now a changed man Talas made his way east in search of new adventure, to make a life for himself and to leave everything that he held dear, and hated, behind forever.
How did you find us?: I was previously on Akavir, and have been deeply involved with RP-Craft over time.
What Roleplay experience do you have?: I was an active member of Akavir from the day I began help building in late 2012 to when the server closed in the summer of 2013. During that period, I served as a Role Play Monitor, and a Lore Master. I also played on the original SooF in the last month or so of its existence. I have since briefly played on the Elder Scrolls: Sands of Alik'r, and participated in various forms of role-playing elsewhere, including table-top games.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Meta-Gaming is the use of information learned in an out-of-character environment or method, and using said information in an in-game capacity. This includes talking OOC, using knowledge that the player knows but the character doesn't, or knowing that someone is there because another player informed those involved that they were hiding nearby.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Power-Gaming is forcing an action on the player or the world without giving them the chance to affect the outcome or alter its genesis.
Define God-Modding in your words: The use of items or abilities outside of your character's realistic spectrum of skill or attainability.
]In Character[
Name: Rheves Deep-Raed
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Race: Nord (Colovian Highlands)
Appearance: Rheves is a rough, coiled-spring of a man. He stands unassumingly at 6'1", his hands often either limp by his side or fiddling with some piece of gear adorning him. He's fairly lean, most of the fat stripped away from bad eating and hard training, leaving the muscle underneath to stretch the skin. Like many Nords, Rheves' skin is a pale color, despite all the sun he's gotten over time. His arms are covered in scratchy dark hair, and his hands are calloused and nimble. His face is stretched and thin, with bags under his pale eyes. It is framed by badly cut hair above and badly cut beard below, both dark in color. His voice is low and authoritative, with a bit of a rumble due to a reoccurring issue with his throat.
Personality: Rheves is a driven, highly principled person. He has seen evil, and he has been taught good. He knows the difference clearly, and he knows what it takes to protect one, at the cost of the other. He sees the struggle between good and evil as the ultimate importance of the world, for everyone whether they know it or not. He is confident and casual when communicating with others, and is aware that his belief can resemble fanaticism, so he keeps it quiet. He genuinely cares for the innocent and those too weak to protect themselves, and believes they are worth fighting for. He also enjoys knowledge, and take pleasure in reading as a pastime. This curiosity has flowed throughout his personality, thus leading him to often ask questions of others so as to fully understand things around him. His work has infected him with a dark sense of humor over time, and he is nowadays rarely concerned with honor. An age has passed with him; as he grows older, he grows harder and more determined, and in a way more dangerous.
On a more personal level, Rheves is a man striving for a sense of identity, and he always has been. First in a large family, then in the legion, he usually lacked a proper outlet of individuality throughout his life, and has spent much of his time post-army seeking it. He has found this in his work, which he takes great pride in, and considers very much his own.
In-game RP example:
Rheves steps inside of the darkened tavern, the musty air causing him to lightly cough. With a casual air, he walks across the old wooden floors to one of the chairs and sits, taking note of his surroundings once he has. A thin man with a stringy beard approaches.
"Want something?" He asks, seemingly displeased with idea of business. Rheves lightly nods and clears his throat, looking up and replying,
"Aye, I assume you got some mead?"
The first answer is the bartenders rolled eyes.
"O' course we got mead, this 'aint some bleedin' top-rate winery..."
Rheves nods, absolutely agreeing with that. The bartender turns with an disgruntled mutter, and begins to plod back to the bar to retrieve the drink.
Background:
Rheves was born to a large family in western Cyrodiil, one of the younger children of the brood. His parents were caring and encouraging; his father a farmer, his mother mostly teaching the kids at home and managing the household. From the day he was born, he was taught by the code that his parents had developed over their lives; a code of morals, a code of right and of wrong, a code to live by. It was something he valued as he grew up, something he firmly believed in. As Rheves grew older, he started helping his father in the fields and hunting like the other older boys, and got to go on trips to sell crops. Even as participated in those journeys, he applied his worldview to what he saw around him and recognized how much of the world was evil at its core, and what that did to people.
Rheves and his brothers had always sparred, and there was always the rare wild animal or troublemaker that had to be driven off, giving the young Nord the occasional excitement, but he wanted more. The Legion was recruiting heavily, and Rheves saw this as a chance to finally get out on his own. Once he was of age, he immediately signed up with his parents' regretful blessing.
Rheves experienced new things in the military. Everything was ordered, everyone was disciplined. While somewhat slow at first to adjust, he learned combat easily, ferociously becoming the best grappler in his squad, and excelled with a sword. It was within his first months out of training that his squad was put into combat against the Aldmeri. Rheves was found after the battle slumped over a wounded squadmate, eyes wide and sword bloody. A few more survived engagements after that, and his apparent skill caught the eye of an officer, and Rheves was promoted to sergeant, where he began teaching others the art of war. With a loud voice and a sharp eye, Sergeant Deep-Raed was a feared teacher and respected comrade, but it left him feeling empty. He didn't feel like he was directly changing things in the war, he didn't feel like he was really helping. He was fighting because of the people in the villages and hillsides who were in danger, he was fighting to save the way of the life civilized people enjoyed. But he rarely fought anymore. After seven long years in the Legion, he left.
Rheves felt refreshed by the new world he found himself in, no longer a legionnaire. But he recognized that he would need new purpose. While living amongst the people, he saw many things, frequent evils that were missed by the eye of the Empire. One moonless night he followed two men who had beaten a drinkers money out him, eventually coming upon them in an alley. It didn't take long to dispatch both, and Rheves felt a strange soar of usefulness again. Lacking any real income due to a reluctance to take a job, the Nord began living in the woods and hunting for his meals, as he had as a boy. Over time, he simply wandered, opposing wrongdoing where he saw it, taking apart corrupt structures as best he could, getting more skilled at fieldcraft along the way. He could see that there was much more darkness in the world than just the Aldmeri, and he took it upon himself to counter it.
After news of the cataclysm in Akavir reached his ears, he felt a calling. He made his way toward an open port, and looked to book himself passage to this land. It cost him all of the bounty money he had, but he stood upon the deck with a lightness of heart and a grim face as he approached the wild continent.
**Out of Character** IGN: J_Wolf_K Age: 16 How did you find us?: I was already here, reapplying for the server opening. What Roleplay experience do you have?: I've been here before, Sands of Alik'r, Telcore Tradewinds, and several other RP's. Define Meta-gaming in your words: When you act on information IC, you know OOC, but your character doesn't know IC. Define Power-gaming in your words: When you make your own character more powerful then they should. Define God-Modding in your words: When you RP as a character that is not yours and make them more powerful then they are.
**In Character** Name: Vorian Vothor Nickname: Seer Age: 879 Gender: Male Race: Altmer Appearance: He wears a black hooded robe with dark gray trim and under clothing. Black gloves that have spiked finger tips, and dark gray/black boots. He wears a tattered dark gray/black shroud around his shoulders and neck that reaches far down his robe. He always wears his hood up, and also wears a dark gray pottery mask that covers his entire face. The eye slits for the mask are thin, and over the area of the left eye slit their is a rune/mark carved into it. Personality: He keeps a rather neutral personality and perspective. He is not quick to take sides, thinking things through, preferring to remain as a neutral party unless it would benefit him otherwise. He usually thinks about himself first and others last, though is rather protective of women in general. He stands both on the 'dark' and 'light' side along in the middle on the moral line, in such see's things often from all perspectives. Overall, he is extremely rational, and good to have on your side if you can convince him. In-game RP example: We are by ourself in an enemy tribe, carrying out an assassination. We need to get to the Chief’s tent, across the plain the tribe is stationed in. We hear the steps of guards approaching in the distance.
We sneak back into the shadows of night, watching the two guards walk past.
“Why is Ri’Kalik so paranoid as of late? Khajiit thinks he is expecting something?” They spoke as they walked.
The other one spoke in a slightly raised voice. “Of course Ri’Kalik is scared! Ri’Talmad has sent his assassin for him. Why do you think we are here?”
The other one nodded. “This one knows, bu-“
There was a snap. I had stepped on a dry branch, attracting the attention of the guards.
We had drawn our daggers, keeping them in hand. We moved around in the shadows, as to get around them.
We watch as they head to where I was, moving in for what must be done.
I sprint to the smaller guard, hoping to take out the agile target first.
We quickly thrust one dagger into his back. Attempting to silence him we twirl our other arm for his neck, hoping to slit his throat before he can speak.
We moved to slow however; he let out a sharp yelp before we slit his throat. The attention of the larger, bulkier guard was on us now.
We stayed in swift position, ready to go flying in any direction.
He pulled out a large sword, gripping it with both hands. “Prepare to die Laughing Skull.” He said spoke in an angered voice.
He lifted his sword up, now lunging it down in a massive blow.
Do to his larger size and slower movements; we were able to roll out of the way of the swing.
We sprint around him, moving our daggers into a slicing position. As we sprint, we move our daggers outward, slicing him slightly on his back.
He had dropped his sword, and now threw his claw to my side. It hit, breaking one of our ribs in the process.
We had fallen to the ground out of breath, our daggers flying out of reach.
He had retrieved his sword and prepared for a killing blow, putting all his might into this strike.
His size one again slowed him, allowing us to quickly roll out of the way. We quickly push ourselves up, and sprint behind him.
His sword stuck in the ground from the blow, he struggled to retrieve it. While doing this, I move behind him and position him into a headlock.
He struggles to break our grip, though we do not waver. “This one apologizes for the death of your companion. Khajiiti will spare your life; do not waste what we give you now.”
From the headlock we slam his head into the hilt of his sword, rendering him unconscious.
We dragged the bodies into the shadows, along with their weapons. We cover them with a tarp found hanging by a tent.
After several moments searching we find our daggers, making our way to the tent of the Chief to finish our mission.
Background: Vorian was born in the Summerset Isles in 2E 736 in the city of Dusk. His father, an alchemist, tried to teach him the art when he was young, though it wasn't to his interest. His mother was a mage, and that on the other hand grabbed his interest. She had taught the basics of magic, and how to control it and exercise his magicka. He would train for hours on end to be able to know the arts of magic well enough. He had grown studying magic with his mother until he was old enough to move away. Packing his bags, he left his family home and went off. In his travels, he had encountered a Priestess of Arkay named Varulae, who had taught him of the G-D of Life and Death, though he solely focused on the death part. She offered to teach him both the arts of Restoration and Conjuration, Healer and Necromancy, though he only took her on up on the Necromancy. He spent a few years studying with her before he went off on his own again. Having taken the idea of the Religion the wrong way, he had solely focused on necromancy, and had killed many innocent travelers for his rituals and experiments. It was when he had met Varulae again in a temple to Arkay, did he realize his wrong doings. She had introduced him the the High Priest of Arkay, who offered him redemption if he were to turn from his dark path. And so he did, spending another many years to know learn Restoration. He had though, taken the religion to seriously now, seeing most people as wicked as he was. In this, he had become a violent preacher, often going to far and accusing innocents of crimes they did not commit solely out of suspicion. It would not be for many other years that he had finally found balance, once again, through Varulae. She had taken him through his rough path, and taught him that Arkay was not solely just righteousness and wickedness, light and dark, life and death, but both. She had taught him the balance of the Religion, and so, he finally understood how to treat it. With this, he had taken up Varulae as a wife, and they had four daughters. They lived happily for a while, and he had even eventually become the High Priest of Arkay in the area. It was in the rising of the Third Aldmari Dominion that things changed dramatically. He had some say as the High Priest of Arkay, and he was a supporter of the current gov't, as was his family. Due to this, the Thalmor came after him, killed his family, and almost killed him, leaving him with a horrible branded scar over his left eye. It was then when he fled from the Summerset Isles, and settled in Cyrodiil. There he had commissioned a mask for himself to hide the branded scar. In Cyrodiil. he had retaken his place as a Priest. Though with the Oblivion Crises and Great War, he was forced to flee even from there, heading to Skyrim in the College of Winterhold. He had spent many years there before the war had once again engulfed all of Tamriel. It was when word of another continent came up that he finally decided that this was his last chance to escape the Thalmor and Dominion, preach his religion, and learn his magic. So selling almost all he had, he baught a boat to Akavir.
Conjuration: Level 1: Soulsense - Become aware of the strength of a target's soul Level 2: Raise Lesser Dead - Raise a weak dead target to fight for you, for 1 minute
Restoration: Level 1: Mend - Heal a tiny, but pervasive amount of damage. All paper-cuts, small bruises, and minor fatigue removed Level 2: Restore - Heal a minor amount of damage. A single small gash, broken finger or toe, small burn
How did you find us?: I have been on the akavir role-play server before but it was a while ago so I wanted to come back
What role-play experience do you have?: I have played a few role-play based DnD games, I usually make my TES characters role-play based (Ex: A ranger that would only be able to use hide armor, steel swords and an imperial bow). Also I have written a few short stories so maybe that counts for something?
Metagaming in my own words: Abusing other things like phone, Skype or out of game chat to give yourself an advantage by knowing what is happening in other places and being able to stage things out like a surprise attack OOC.
Powergaming in my own words: I think powergaming is forcing actions of other players or npcs with out the other player having a fair chance. Ex: Talas tackles and stabs the attacker". It should be "Talas ATTEMPTS to tackle and stab the attacker"
Godgaming in my own words: Doing things in character that are physically impossible as a character. Things like lets say you are having an RP fight and you're about to be stabbed and killed. It just so happens that you like this character so you leave your computer and go do something else. This leaves your character to live another day and your opponent ed off. This is not ok.
**In Character**
Name: Talas (Pronounced Tay-lus)
Age: 33
Gender: Male
Race: Bosmer (Wood elf)
Appearance: 5'5. Brown hair. Wears furs and favors the bow and daggers, even though I'm more of a sword man myself. Taylus has a longer pointed face, darker skin and one silver ring on his right hand. He has green eyes but usually has them closed, as a monk would.
Personality: Talas is a very nice wood elf. He is not a big fan of killing others but he will if he is threatened. Talas is not very easily angered and keeps a warm smile most of the time. Talas is very skilled in the art of speech and often uses bribery as a form of getting others to do as he needs. As a wood elf he is very attuned with nature and follows the green pact, even outside of the forests of Valenwood. The reason he does not like killing others is that the green pact requires that he devours the corpse of the every person he has killed in (At most) three days. He is strictly carnivorous and will not harm flora of any kind. His crafts include monster hunting and bone weapon making as well as being skilled with a forge.
In-game RP example:
Scene: Talas is walking down a old abandoned road when two Argonian thieves approach him, demanding his gold and other precious items.
Argonian thief 1:"What brings you to Skyrim Elf? Here to make some coin?"
Argonian thief 2:"Because thats what we are here to do. Now hand over your coin and valuables" -Draws two daggers-
Talas: "Now now gentlemen I'm sure that we can come to some sort of agreement hmm?" -Talas puts his hands in his pockets
Argonian thief 1: "Heh, I notice you have got a nice ring there, how about you hand that over, and we will leave your limbs attached" -pulls out a mace from its holster-
Talas: "I would rather not give up my ring, its from wife you see." -Talas smiles but has a look of sadness in his eyes-
Argonian thief 2: "You think that matters to us? All we want is some decent coin!"
Argonian thief 1: "I'm done talking! You hand over the ring or die!"
Talas: -Talas simply keeps his hands in his pockets and smiles-
Argonian theif 2: "Graaah!" -He leaps at talas with his two daggers going for his neck-
Talas: -Ducks and elbows the argonian in the stomach but the Argonian gets a good cut on his side from one of the daggers-
Argonian thief 1: -Runs at him and attempts to tackle him-
Talas: -Falls over from the force of the argonian but attempts to break his attackers grip-
Talas: Fine. -Pulls out two bone daggers- "I'm going to regret this more then you are." -mutters "I hate the taste of argonian"-
Argonian theif 1&2: -Both charge from each side and attack rapidly-
Talas: -Extends his arms with the daggers and impales both in the chest, one hitting a lung and the other, the heart-
Agronian thief 1&2: -Fall to the ground, dead.-
Talas: -Smiles sadly and drags them off into the forest to have his meal of the two Argonians-
Background: Talas grew up as any normal wood elf child would. Learning the ways of hunting and learning to love and protect nature. At the age of 26 Talas grew tired of the same old thing, going out, hunting for the day, returning to his lovely wife and going to sleep. Being restless, Talas walked outside, gazed at the large forms of Masser and Secunda and whispered to himself "I wish something exciting would happen around here. Everyday its the same thing and I just cannot do it anymore." Talas went to sleep and the next few weeks were the same, nothing changed...Until the 22nd of Frostfall. A boy, no more then 13 ran around the small settlement of migratory trees to wake up the warrior Bosmer. He shouted "Everyone get up! Kajiit have been spotted a few leagues east felling the tallest of our trees! Immediately he burst from his bed, grabbed his bow off the wall and his wife followed after. They met up with the a group of 10 other Bosmer and ran through the trees, rushing to save the things most important to them. Then he heard it. The sickening sound of a tree collapsing to the mossy floor of the forest. In rage he rushed ahead of all the others and started firing arrows at the first thing he saw. These were the kajiit but they had archers as well. The kajiits well outnumbered the small group but they did not know Valenwood like Talas and the others did. After dispatching a group of 8 with a well placed volly, he heard a scream of a woman. Not a scratchy kajiit scream but...the scream of his wife. "No, no. NO!" He though with worry. Rushing through the forest, he found her. Dead. He started to weep as he held her in his arms. He said goodbye one last time, took the ring he had given to her from her hand and got up. The battle continued, but Talas did not join. After the battle, for Talas, no drinks were drunk, no meat was eaten. Talas cursed himself for being so stupid, "If only I hadn't made that damned wish! Then...Then she would still be here." Sad and broken Talas decided to leave for farther lands, in search of a better life. A few years passed and he had arrived in hammerfell. Of course he did not take a direct path there, he had gone to Cyrodil first and made gold as a huntsman and bone-weapon maker. Talas had made enough gold to pack up and leave for other lands, and his feet carried him to Hammerfell. Here Talas met a man that went by the name of Sader. Sader was an old healer, a priest of arkay. Apparenly in his prime, he was a hunter. Not the type of hunter that Talas is no, a monster hunter. Over the next few years Talas would learn from Sader, the way of peace of a priest and deadliness of a monster hunter. After 3 more years Sader died of old age. Now a changed man Talas made his way east in search of new adventure, to make a life for himself and to leave everything that he held dear, and hated, behind forever. When Talas arrived back in Cyrodil he decided to continue like he did before, crafting weapons and hunting, except now he was not just hunting game. He had done quite a few jobs and was resting in an inn. "Would you like any more nordic ale?" said a tall, blond nordic bartender. "No, no I have had quite enough" said Talas, feeling slightly light headed, "I would like a room for the night however" said Talas as he set ten gold septims on the counter. "Certainly" She said "You room is down the hall, third door on your right". Talas stumbled through the hallway and eventually reached his room, and as he was about to open the door he heard a few men talking. "Yes I heard there were snake people!", "Your kidding.", "I would not kid about something like this. They call it Akavir!". Talas shrugged it off and went to sit on his bed. He stared out the window at Nirns two moons while fidgeting with his wives ring. He let out a long sigh and said "Akavir....". The next day he bid no one goodbye, as he had become close to none, other then Sader, sense he had left Valenwood. He strapped on his bow, grabbed his bag and started to walk. He walked far and he walked long and eventually he reached the town of Dawnstar in Skryim. The Nords had not been the most welcoming of someone, well, other then a nord, but he managed. "Excuse me" He said to a walking down the street "Do you happen to know of a place called Akavir?". The nord nodded and turned to face the Wood elf "You looking for passage? Well to bad. I don't sail there anymore. Not sense I lost...", "Lost what?" "Lost none of your business, Elf."Are you sure?" Talas exclaimed as he proffered a large pouch of coins. "...How much is in that bag", "450 Septims". The Nord man nords and says "Alright fine, I'll take you to Akavir, we leave in the morning". The next morning Talas stepped on to the ship and immediatly felt unsteady. "Hahaha you just need to get your sea legs!" Exclaimed the nord man whose name is Thronor Cracked-Hull. "I guess not but I will get them soon, wont I?", "Yes you will, soon enough. Now then are you ready to go?", "Yes", "Alright then cast off for Akavir!"
How did you find us?: I have been on the akavir role-play server before but it was a while ago so I wanted to come back
What role-play experience do you have?: I have played a few role-play based DnD games, I usually make my TES characters role-play based (Ex: A ranger that would only be able to use hide armor, steel swords and an imperial bow). Also I have written a few short stories so maybe that counts for something?
Metagaming in my own words: Abusing other things like phone, Skype or out of game chat to give yourself an advantage by knowing what is happening in other places and being able to stage things out like a surprise attack OOC.
Powergaming in my own words: I think powergaming is forcing actions of other players or npcs with out the other player having a fair chance. Ex: Talas tackles and stabs the attacker". It should be "Talas ATTEMPTS to tackle and stab the attacker"
Godgaming in my own words: Doing things in character that are physically impossible as a character. Things like lets say you are having an RP fight and you're about to be stabbed and killed. It just so happens that you like this character so you leave your computer and go do something else. This leaves your character to live another day and your opponent ed off. This is not ok.
**In Character**
Name: Talas (Pronounced Tay-lus)
Age: 33
Gender: Male
Race: Bosmer (Wood elf)
Appearance: 5'5. Brown hair. Wears furs and favors the bow and daggers, even though I'm more of a sword man myself. Taylus has a longer pointed face, darker skin and one silver ring on his right hand. He has black downwardly slanted eyes but usually has them closed, as a monk would.
Personality: Talas is a very nice wood elf. He is not a big fan of killing others but he will if he is threatened. Talas is not very easily angered and keeps a warm smile most of the time. Talas is very skilled in the art of speech and often uses bribery as a form of getting others to do as he needs. As a wood elf he is very attuned with nature and follows the green pact, even outside of the forests of Valenwood. The reason he does not like killing others is that the green pact requires that he devours the corpse of the every person he has killed in (At most) three days. He is strictly carnivorous and will not harm flora of any kind. His crafts include monster hunting and bone weapon making as well as being skilled with a forge.
In-game RP example:
Scene: Talas is walking down a old abandoned road when two Argonian thieves approach him, demanding his gold and other precious items.
Argonian thief 1:"What brings you to Skyrim Elf? Here to make some coin?"
Argonian thief 2:"Because thats what we are here to do. Now hand over your coin and valuables" -Draws two daggers-
Talas: "Now now gentlemen I'm sure that we can come to some sort of agreement hmm?" -Talas puts his hands in his pockets
Argonian thief 1: "Heh, I notice you have got a nice ring there, how about you hand that over, and we will leave your limbs attached" -pulls out a mace from its holster-
Talas: "I would rather not give up my ring, its from wife you see." -Talas smiles but has a look of sadness in his eyes-
Argonian thief 2: "You think that matters to us? All we want is some decent coin!"
Argonian thief 1: "I'm done talking! You hand over the ring or die!"
Talas: -Talas simply keeps his hands in his pockets and smiles-
Argonian theif 2: "Graaah!" -He leaps at talas with his two daggers going for his neck-
Talas: -Ducks and elbows the argonian in the stomach but the Argonian gets a good cut on his side from one of the daggers-
Argonian thief 1: -Runs at him and attempts to tackle him-
Talas: -attempts to dodge but fails-
Talas: -Falls over from the force of the argonian but attempts to break his attackers grip-
Talas: Fine. -Pulls out two bone daggers- "I'm going to regret this more then you are." -mutters "I hate the taste of argonian"-
Argonian theif 1&2: -Both charge from each side and attack rapidly-
Talas: -Extends his arms with the daggers and impales both in the chest, one hitting a lung and the other, the heart-
Agronian thief 1&2: -Fall to the ground, dead.-
Talas: -Smiles sadly and drags them off into the forest to have his meal of the two Argonians-
Background: Talas grew up as any normal wood elf child would. Learning the ways of hunting and learning to love and protect nature. At the age of 26 Talas grew tired of the same old thing, going out, hunting for the day, returning to his lovely wife and going to sleep. Being restless, Talas walked outside, gazed at the large forms of Masser and Secunda and whispered to himself "I wish something exciting would happen around here. Everyday its the same thing and I just cannot do it anymore." Talas went to sleep and the next few weeks were the same, nothing changed...Until the 22nd of Frostfall. A boy, no more then 13 ran around the small settlement of migratory trees to wake up the warrior Bosmer. He shouted "Everyone get up! Kajiit have been spotted a few leagues east felling the tallest of our trees! Immediately he burst from his bed, grabbed his bow off the wall and his wife followed after. They met up with the a group of 10 other Bosmer and ran through the trees, rushing to save the things most important to them. Then he heard it. The sickening sound of a tree collapsing to the mossy floor of the forest. In rage he rushed ahead of all the others and started firing arrows at the first thing he saw. These were the kajiit but they had archers as well. The kajiits well outnumbered the small group but they did not know Valenwood like Talas and the others did. After dispatching a group of 8 with a well placed volly, he heard a scream of a woman. Not a scratchy kajiit scream but...the scream of his wife. "No, no. NO!" He though with worry. Rushing through the forest, he found her. Dead. He started to weep as he held her in his arms. He said goodbye one last time, took the ring he had given to her from her hand and got up. The battle continued, but Talas did not join. After the battle, for Talas, no drinks were drunk, no meat was eaten. Talas cursed himself for being so stupid, "If only I hadn't made that damned wish! Then...Then she would still be here." Sad and broken Talas decided to leave for farther lands, in search of a better life. A few years passed and he had arrived in hammerfell. Of course he did not take a direct path there, he had gone to Cyrodil first and made gold as a huntsman and bone-weapon maker. Talas had made enough gold to pack up and leave for other lands, and his feet carried him to Hammerfell. Here Talas met a man that went by the name of Sader. Sader was an old healer, a priest of arkay. Apparenly in his prime, he was a hunter. Not the type of hunter that Talas is no, a monster hunter. Over the next few years Talas would learn from Sader, the way of peace of a priest and deadliness of a monster hunter. After 3 more years Sader died of old age. Now a changed man Talas made his way east in search of new adventure, to make a life for himself and to leave everything that he held dear, and hated, behind forever. When Talas arrived back in Cyrodil he decided to continue like he did before, crafting weapons and hunting, except now he was not just hunting game. He had done quite a few jobs and was resting in an inn. "Would you like any more nordic ale?" said a tall, blond nordic bartender. "No, no I have had quite enough" said Talas, feeling slightly light headed, "I would like a room for the night however" said Talas as he set ten gold septims on the counter. "Certainly" She said "You room is down the hall, third door on your right". Talas stumbled through the hallway and eventually reached his room, and as he was about to open the door he heard a few men talking. "Yes I heard there were snake people!", "Your kidding.", "I would not kid about something like this. They call it Akavir!". Talas shrugged it off and went to sit on his bed. He stared out the window at Nirns two moons while fidgeting with his wives ring. He let out a long sigh and said "Akavir....". The next day he bid no one goodbye, as he had become close to none, other then Sader, sense he had left Valenwood. He strapped on his bow, grabbed his bag and started to walk. He walked far and he walked long and eventually he reached the town of Dawnstar in Skryim. The Nords had not been the most welcoming of someone, well, other then a nord, but he managed. "Excuse me" He said to a walking down the street "Do you happen to know of a place called Akavir?". The nord nodded and turned to face the Wood elf "You looking for passage? Well to bad. I don't sail there anymore. Not sense I lost...", "Lost what?" "Lost none of your business, Elf."Are you sure?" Talas exclaimed as he proffered a large pouch of coins. "...How much is in that bag", "450 Septims". The Nord man nords and says "Alright fine, I'll take you to Akavir, we leave in the morning". The next morning Talas stepped on to the ship and immediatly felt unsteady. "Hahaha you just need to get your sea legs!" Exclaimed the nord man whose name is Thronor Cracked-Hull. "I guess not but I will get them soon, wont I?", "Yes you will, soon enough. Now then are you ready to go?", "Yes", "Alright then cast off for Akavir!"
**Out of Character**
IGN: william3677
Age: 15
How did you find us? Well, I was looking for some minecraft RP servers when I came across your trailer on youtube. I've always loved The Elder Scrolls universe and minecraft, and thought that the two together would be amazing.
What Roleplay experience do you have? I also play on Uthrandir Universe, I have also played on Lord of the Craft and Mythic Ages.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Using OOC information in RP that your character wouldn't know.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Power-gaming is when your way over powerful, say your a regular citizen, you can't just suddenly go blow up the world hurling fireballs. Your character wouldn't know how to use magic, let alone have enough magicka/mana etc to cast that much of it.
Define God-Modding in your words: God-Modding is essentially being a god in roleplay, such as you run into a burning house and pull someone's character out. You should do 'I attempt to pull them out' rather than, 'I pull them out' as that would be something they did not consent to or be carried by your character out of a burning building. Who knows, maybe they even wanted to kill off their character and that's how they wanted to go about it.
**In Character**
Name: Aura Nightheart
Nickname: (Optional) None.
Age: 87 (Quite young for an elf.)
Gender: Male
Race: Bosmer
Appearance: A blue/brown cloak...also, green eyes. He wears these colors, as it's pretty much all he could find...
Personality: Shy, arrogant, and annoying most of the time if you manage to befriend him.
In-game RP example: (Include dialog)
Aura Nightheart says: "W-Who arre y-you...?"
Aura Nightheart stays a distance from the stranger, moving a hand to the shortsword on his belt.
Alanir gestures to Aura's small pouch of coins, "You don't need to know that information...give me the coins and I may let you live."
Aura slides the sword out of the sheathe a bit, before turning and running into the undergrowth, hoping to hide.
Alanir follows Aura, easily outpacing him, he blocks Aura's path, "I said. Give me the coins."
Aura helplessly, threw the pouch of coins at Alanir, and while he leans down to pick it up, leaps on him.
Alanir, surprisingly throws back his hood, he's a small orc child.
Aura leaps to the side, and bundles off into the forest murmuring about "Orc children..." And "Foul creatures..." hoping, that the orc doesn't follow him.
Background: (Be detailed and in-depth. Also explain how you came to be in Akavir.)
Aura has an odd name, and hides from large communities. He is shy and oddly, annoying. He thinks his name "Nightheart" disgraces him from his kind, though he one day hopes to learn restoration and destruction magicks, and perhaps become a mage.
He has never been good around people, has odd dreams, and sometimes talks to himself. When he talks to others he doesn't know, or is scared of them, he stutters a lot. His main defense is a shortsword, fashioned of steel. He has never really
told anyone about his dreams, only that they are of strange far off lands, that he hopes never to venture too. He also dreams of Akavir, and has nightmares, and thinks constantly the words, "What if" in bad situations.
Aura was born in the lands of Tamriel, and used to have one friend, Kiara, who he liked...until his father sold him as a slave to Dunmer, and they took him across the seas to Akavir. His father was cruel, odd for an elf. In the lands of Akavir,
Now just being over 13, he worked hard, sometimes overly hard and fell unconscious. Then when he awoke, the slavers beat him. Until one day, he mustered the courage, and while in the fields, ran. He ran with all his might, having no sense of direction,
nor really wanting one. He just wanted freedom and liberty. He had stolen a shortsword of steel and a blue cloak on the way out, and has always seemed to be slightly smaller than other elves. His green eyes will pale and darken, sometimes showing
obvious concern, pain, or anger. He lived in a forest, near a stream, in a small house, curled up under a bush...so, not exactly a house. After a while, he found his way back into the community, often staying in the shadows and the sides of roads
though. He one day hopes to go back to Tamriel, but after the Infernal Age, doesn't think he ever will. And thus, this is where we leave AUra now...wondering what his path in Akavir will be.
You idiot! Why'd you do that!? You just ate Skooma! Oh you're such a massive idiot! Now you're going to die, Skooma kills! Sigh...you don't understand do you? STOP eating it. Now. I said stop . . .Yeah, you're an idiot. You won't stop...Skooma kills!
Didn't you hear me the first time? Sigh...I give up on you. *Walks away non-chalantly from wherever the heck he was.*
What RolePlay experience do you have, other than Akavir?:I played on multiple RP servers.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Applying OOC acquired information whilst IC.
Define Power-gaming in your words:Forcing actions upon another player without giving him a chance to react or fight back.
Define God-Modding in your words:Doing something inhuman or impossible. I.E Lifting a tree straight out of the ground.
IC:
Name: Jurien
Nickname: N/A
Age:34
Gender: Male
Race: Nord
Appearance: Jurien wears a brown overcoat ontop of a tan-gray undershirt. On his shoulders lay pads that protect him from minor wounds, which also assist him in holding heavy objects on his shoulders. He stands about 6'5 up tall. He has shaggy red hair, and a completely magnificent beard.
Personality: Jurien is quiet most of the time. When he does talk, it's sometimes useful, sometimes something stupid. His stands tall most of the time to keep himself looking like the bigger man.
Example of in-game RP conflict between two characters:
Jurien: /me draws his steel sword from his belt
Bandit: /me draws his iron dagger from his sheathe
Jurien: /me stabs forward, aiming at the Bandit's left arm.
Bandit: /me gets hit, and steps back, holding his left arm in agony.
Jurien: /me advances forward, kicking at the head of the Bandit
Bandit: /me gets kicked in the head, forcing him onto the ground.
Jurien: /me swings downwards on the Bandit's neck, hoping to decapitate him.
Bandit: /me is defenseless and is decapitated.
Background: Jurien was born in Skyrim, the hold of Whiterun in Rorikstead.. His mother's name was Gustafa and his father's name was Hock. Gustafa was an intelligent woman with black, flowing hair and gray eyes, like Jurien's. She was often in the kitchen, preparing the most delightful meals the family ever tasted! It went from pastas to meats that Hock hunted. Hock was a hunter. He was the one who showed Jurien everything he knows about hunting. From elks to bears, Jurien can kill one. Hock was a large man, broad shoulders and red hair, like Jurien's. Jurien was just a young lad when his father gave him a bow and a dagger. Hock said, "Son, if you ever want to make it anywhere in this world, you have to be good at something. I am giving you the option of hunting." They went off to hunt together, Hock finding things to hunt and having Jurien shoot them dead. Jurien describes the best days of his life hunting with his father. Many years passed, and Jurien was 15. His life had been pretty uneventful, as you imagined. He woke up in the morning, put on his boots, got his bow and dagger (which had been upgraded as he got older), and set out to hunt. Each and every morning. One morning, it was different. He waited to wake up, and when he did, his father was waiting for him.
"Why are you not out hunting, son?" Hock said, not angrily, but curious. Jurien replied, "I want to see the world, father. Visit Windhelm, Whiterun, and maybe even Markarth!" His father sighed, knowing this day was going to come eventually. "Come with me," Hock said, turning around and unlocking the basement door. Jurien was never allowed in the basement. "The world is a tough place, Jurien. You know that by now. Catch!" Hock threw a sword at Jurien, which Jurien caught, due to his reflexes from all the years he hunted. "I'm going to teach you to fight. You are going to need the skills out in the world." And so Hock, like before, taught his son another skill. Jurien was soon proficient in the blade as he was in archery. Mind you, this took months for him to perfect. Hock went to the town stables, and got his horse, handing the reins to Jurien. "You will need him. His name is Murdey."((Mur-day))"He was once mine, though I do have another." Hock indicates to a white horse. "Murdey knows Skyrim like no other horse I have ever ridden upon. He will take you anywhere in the fastest time he can." Jurien said, "Thank you, father, for all you have given me, and now I must pay you back in kind." He drew a blade from his side, the steel glimmering in the sunshine. He hands it to Hock, who inspects it carefully. "You tempered this yourself? It looks as if it was made by a professional." Jurien shrugs his shoulders, indicating it was no big deal for him. "This is why you wanted to leave.. to become a smith." Jurien makes a simple 'Mmhm' sound. "You could have just asked. I'm no smith, but I know a few tricks." Jurien digs in his pocket, "Have a look at this." He hands Hock a letter. It reads:
Dear Jurien, it has come to my attention that you want to be a smith! Laggerd told me that, if you are not sure how I knew. If you want to learn my trade, come to Whiterun. I run a smith that used to be run by my aunt. I can teach you everything I know.
-A friend from Whiterun
"If this is how you want it." Hock says, "Then go ahead. Just make sure you visit!" Jurien hugs his father, and rides away on his horse. He learned the trade of being a smith from the friend in Whiterun. After he learned to be a smith, disaster struck. He fled with the rest of Whiterun, to Akavir.
During his time in Akavir he had quite an experience. Becoming involved with the Tuktura Ugakta hardened the man into a warrior. He worked with Ka'zaad and Kargar, until the latter died. Ka'zaad and Jurien were the last surviving members of the Tuktura( OOC: Unless you want to count those who were afk 5ever). Ka'zaad one day came to Jurien and said, "I have your share, Jurien."
"My share?"
"Aye. Come with me"
Ka'zaad led Jurien to a room with two chests. They were equally full of gold. Jurien smiled, and patted one of the chests.
"It's yours. Do with it what you want."
And he did. Jurien set sail on a barge back to Skyrim, his homeland to visit his family. He said hello to his father and his mother, and went off and purchased a farm. He immediately learned he did not know how to properly farm. He spent about two years milling about on his farm, without actually farming. He just wandered about, reading books and poetry. It was after those two years that he started thinking about Akavir again. The idea only sparked in his mind because of the lack of Akavir trade ships. When Akavir trade ships starting coming and going again, he did exactly what any rationally thinking man would do.
He burnt down his farm and left on the next ship to Akavir. He spent weeks on the ship, eagerly awaiting to get to Akavir.
How your character survived Akavir: Jurien was in Skyrim at the time of the start of the Infernal Age, so he had nothing to worry about. Jurien had planned to leave weeks before the floods in Valguard, and he had. His ship and his gold has left with him to go back to Skyrim weeks before the flooding. The entire time on his ship, nobody knew about what was happening in Akavir. The only thing the crewmates knew was that Valguard was under new rule by a Redguard. Jurien would just chuckle when he heard people talking about that. He'd frown, however, when they talked about the death of the Orsimer that was King. He knew King Kargar Gro'Valguard was assassinated by the Imperials.
Jurien stepped off the ship, onto the docks of Solitude. His first decision was to purchase a farm. His second decision was to never, ever try to farm again, seeing as he was awful at it. He had a farmhouse, books, poetry, and food. Not much else was required for him. Jurien was a simple man. He spent two years in Skyrim. What got him wondering about Akavir again was the fact that trade ships stopped arriving in Skyrim. He waited for news of ships to arrive once more, and paid for passage from Skyrim to Akavir.
How your character survived Akavir: Jurien was in Skyrim at the time of the start of the Infernal Age, so he had nothing to worry about. Jurien had planned to leave weeks before the floods in Valguard, and he had. His ship and his gold has left with him to go back to Skyrim weeks before the flooding. The entire time on his ship, nobody knew about what was happening in Akavir. The only thing the crewmates knew was that Valguard was under new rule by a Redguard. Jurien would just chuckle when he heard people talking about that. He'd frown, however, when they talked about the death of the Orsimer that was King. He knew King Kargar Gro'Valguard was assassinated by the Imperials.
Jurien stepped off the ship, onto the docks of Solitude. His first decision was to purchase a farm. His second decision was to never, ever try to farm again, seeing as he was awful at it. He had a farmhouse, books, poetry, and food. Not much else was required for him. Jurien was a simple man. He spent two years in Skyrim. What got him wondering about Akavir again was the fact that trade ships stopped arriving in Skyrim. He waited for news of ships to arrive once more, and paid for passage from Skyrim to Akavir.
The poor fools who take skooma do not know that it usually ends in their demise.
How did you find us?
I've been around since the last days of SOOF.
What Roleplay experience do you have?
I've played on SOOF and Akavir, and I've done some minor forum RP on other sites.
Define Meta-gaming in your words:
Using information that you know but your character doesn't to your advantage. For example, if you know who someone's character is from the players talking, and you act like you're character knows them. Or if you hear that someone is at a certain place OOC and "happen" to end up there yourself.
Define Power-gaming in your words:
Acting as if you are far stronger or talented than you should be, like killing 4 people with one punch or saying you dodge every attack someone tries on you. Also, making statements like [*Char punches you in the face, sending you flying.] instead of [*Char tries to punch you in the face as hard as they can.] You have to let them decide what happens to their character.
Define God-Modding in your words:
Similar to Powergaming, Godmoding means making your character much more pwerful than they should be. Whether they are an unbeatable fighter, have a cloak that makes them immortal, and have created a spell that makes them omnisecient, godmoding makes it annoying and impossible to do nything against these kinds of characters.
Name: Vantus Delian
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Race: Imperial
Appearance: Blond hair, build like a skirmisher, fairly average looks
Personality: Power seeking, opportunistic, charismatic, egotistic
Place of Birth: Shor's Stone, The Rift, Skyrim (4th of First Seed)
Sign: The Lord
Background: Vantus was always the type to find simple ways of getting what he wanted, so his joining a group of bandits preying on travelers through Falkreath Hold wasn't surprising. Camping at Knifepoint Ridge, their group did well enough, but couldn't expand very far before getting into conflict with other bandit factions. In addition, Vantus never got higher than a mid-level position in the hierarchy, despite his ambitions of running the whole group. As the Great War raged on and the camp began to lost ground both to other bandits and to what guards were free to deal with such problems, Vantus decided to cut his losses and move on, taking a good chunk of the camp's loot with him. He wandered for a while, living mostly off his ill-gotten gains, and traveled into Cryodiil, away from his bounty posters.
Then he heard about Akavir.
A land opening to Tamriel for the second time in recent history. Recently subject to some sort of mysterious disaster. More and more people moving there by the day. And most importantly, only a token bandit population.
This was Vantus's chance to take control. He would go to Akavir, take command of whatever small time thugs were operating there already, and raise his forces until they were powerful enough to have control of their own piece of this new world. First a camp or ruin; then, who knows? Maybe a town. Maybe a region. Maybe the whole country.
Vantus smiled, taking in the view of the landscape, noting the ruins of some sort of city, flanked by a statue of Talos on on side and a bridge on the other.
This is mine now. He thought, surveying the horizon. All of it.
IGN: dedoralive Age: 16 How did you find us? Tiff told me about this server. What Roleplay experience do you have? I would say I am rather experienced, I have been rping for about 3 years, I have been on three servers, God of Kings, Daemons rp server, and The Anerian Chronicles. Define Meta-gaming in your words: Metagaming is using OOC information IC, or Define Power-gaming in your words: Forcing an action without giving the person you are acting upon a chance to respond or react. Ex: *Charlie swings his mighty sword of godmodeness and kills johnny in one big hit* Define God-Modding in your words: Making your character impervious or invincible to other characters attacks, having unfair advantages, similar to powergaming in a way.gr
**In Character** Name: Matthew Valdis Nickname: “Digger” Age: 20 Gender:Male Race: Nord Appearance: Pale skin, short brown messy hair, pale grey eyes, old ragged clothes, a few dirt stains, around 5’11 ft tall, his arms are decently muscular, his build is pretty lean. Personality: All his life Matthew has preferred spending his time around graves than people, so in social situations her would prefer to avoid talking as much as possible. Most people would consider him shy, he is very humble, after all he doesn’t have much to brag about anyways. In-game RP example: (Include dialog): Matthew looks down at the poor lifeless body that was dropped in front of his home, he inspects the neck, checking for any bites, good. None. Matthew the proceeds to hoist the body up, and walks inside. With one hand he grabs ahold of his fathers shovel, and he heads out to the large gloomy field. Fog hung over the recently disturbed grass, he found an unmarked grave and set the body down beside it. He swings his shovel up onto his shoulder and sits down in front of the unmarked grave and the body. “What did you in huh?” He looks the body over once more from his seated position, noting the bruises along the nords arms, he also determines by the facial structure that this being was indeed male. He also notes the stab wounds through the corpses thin shirt. “Had a bit of a fight did you..? No matter, I’ll let you rest peacefully in a bit.. I don’t suppose your attackers left anything for me to figure out who you were..” Matthew sighs softly and leans forward, setting his shovel down and checking quickly for any documents or anything of the like, finding none he stands and picks his shovel up, starting to dig in accordance to the dead nord’s height. After digging for some time Matthew climbs out of the hole, he picks the body up and sets the corpse into the grave gently. “That should about do it” Matthew wipes his hands brushing some dirt off, glancing at the armored man passing by the field. Man: “Evening Diggah! Got another one did ya?” The man says with a slight wave and a light chuckle. Matthew: Matthew nods slowly and turns around to begin shoveling more dirt on top of the grave. Man: The man sighs and continues on his way, muttering things about diggers and their behavior.
Background: (Be detailed and in-depth. Also explain how you came to be in Akavir.) As long as Matthew could remember, all of his time was spent in a graveyard, whether it was helping his father dig, or just walking along the path and reading each tombstone. Matthew would even sleep out in the graveyard sometimes, he found it comforting to sleep near his mother’s resting place. At just seven years old Matthew’s mother died, he was by her side while she was on her deathbed, and he would hold onto her hand just to let her know he was there.
After her death Matthew spent his time out by her grave, he grew accustom to the graveyard. And at one point he even started talking to the graves, as if the corpses would respond to him. But he didn’t care that they couldn’t respond, after all he liked quiet more than anything. His actions concerned his father a bit, but he blew it off as him just coping with his mother's passing.
The years before his mothers death were short, most of his time was spent with her, as he was too young to venture out and help his father. In his life, Matthew has only loved two living humans, his mother and father. He never liked talking to anyone, and he was labeled the creepy kid in schools because of his families relation to death and the graveyard. But Matthew didn’t mind, he liked it when people left him alone.
Everyday after school, Matthew would come home and walk out to the graveyard, and if any new bodies arrived at the home to be buried, he would help his father dig and prepare the graves. Despite living in front of a graveyard, the family only had one shovel, as was the tradition. Matthew got to use to shovel a few times when helping his father, before getting it was a gift of course.
On his 18th birthday, like every grave digger before him, the family shovel was given to him, and he was to take up the responsibilities of handling the graveyard. For the first few weeks his father stayed around and helped him, then he randomly disappeared, for a while Matthew thought nothing of it and continued his daily routine. Check for bodies, check bodies for bites, prepare graves if bodies were clean, and talk to them right before putting them to eternal rest.
But after some time, Matthew decided to look around his small house a bit, after all most of his time was spent outside of it, he barely knew his way around. He found a small map in his fathers room, it was rolled up along with a knife next to it on his father’s bed. The map was labeled “Akavir”, and led to a port supposedly leading to this “Akavir”. Assuming his father intended him to follow, Matthew packed up his things, grabbed the knife, his fathers shovel, and the map he was given, and followed the trail to the port.
**Out of Character**
IGN: Disconected20
Age:15
How did you find us? Youtube
What Roleplay experience do you have? Fallout, HollowWorld, Skyrim.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: It is when you use out of character information into roleplay.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Being overpowered in roleplay, and not giving other players any chance of fighting you.
Define God-Modding in your words: Roleplaying as if you are a god, and can kill anything or anyone with one touch.
**In Character**
Name: Jikir Hussan
Nickname: Jhik
Age: 40's
Gender: Male
Race: Ka Po' Tun
Appearance: Jikir has black and white fur and eyes as dark as the night sky. He wears a grey robe, and has a round hat. Wields a wooden staff with two stripes, one green and one red, this symbolises justice and his violence. He wears leather slippers which do not cover his feet. And he has a very "happy" smile.
Personality: A fearsome warrior, who is not easily tempered and is calm and civilised.
In-game RP example: Jikir : *He walks along the path way, every step he takes, his staff follows.*
*Suddenly he hears someone in the bushes, and turns. He tries to take a closer look under his big hat of
his, and realises it was just the wind.*
Bandit: Hey you! *The bandit shouted at him, while holding a long blade in his left hand*
Jikir: *He stood still, and turned very slowly not saying a word*
Bandit: Hey I'm talking to you! *The bandit raises his blade and points it at his direction*
Jikir: *Fiercely, he sprints towards the bandit and maneuvers around the bandit.*
Bandit: *Bandit swings his sword at the man and cuts his right arm*
Jikir: *Growls, and hits his left foot with his staff.*
Bandit: *Falls down onto the floor, and sword falls off hands*
Jikir: *Growls fiercely at the bandit and puts his staff on his chest and leans on it.* Why do you do this?
Bandit: Why do I do what? *Breathing quickly while reaching for his blade*
Jikir: Why do you attack innocent people?
Bandit: *Reaches blade then grabs it and swings it at the man*
Jikir: *Quickly moves back and goes into a stance while pointing his staff at the bandit*
Bandit: *As the bandit gets up he Is breathing very fast and looks very nervous* Who are you!?
Jikir: I am just a man passing by *He moves left in a circular form*
Bandit: *Continues right like the man*
Jikir: Hmm, a stand off I see, let us see who shall come out of this bloody mess alive. *Bashes his staff on the
bandits head, and then quickly does an uppercut with his fist.*
Bandit: *Receives the hits and is now back on the floor bleeding from his nose*
Jikir: I will not kill you, but if I find that you are continuing this act, I will hunt you down, and slaughter your loved
ones.
Bandit: *He gets the message but passes out after*
Jikir: *Leaves the scene without a stain on his cloths*
Background: Jhik (Jikir) was a very non heroic character. One that does not even know how to wield a sword, that is what he is. A weakling. But one day he stepped out of his shell and became a true warrior, a fighter. Wielding a staff and a sword, he could now take down foes and any threat to him. This only happened because of one tiny incident, so this is the story of how Jhik, a shy little boy, became what he is today. He was born somewhat during the Great War, mother wanted him to be called Jhik, but the father wanted him to be called Jikir. So Jikir became his official name and Jhik, his nickname. Time passed, he came at the age where he was supposed to learn how to fight, but he was afraid, afraid of a little cut, afraid of him hurting himself but most of all, afraid of him killing himself. So he begged to not learn to fight or kill and his parents couldn't say no, of course he was very persuasive. On the day of the incident, Jhik was accompanying a friendly trader. He walked beside the trader as both of them hold one end of a cart, the cart held nothing much really, just a few scraps and pots, but bandits came anyway. There were 3, one with a bow,one with a knife and one with a stick. Sadly, the archer of the bandit group shot the trader twice, once in the knee and then on the head. Jhik was devastated and in tears at that point, so the bandits took pity on him, and let him live. But he didn't run, while they were looting the cart, he pounced onto a bandit, smacked him around on the head until he bled, and took his stick to finish him off. The other two were quite hard, because they wielded powerful weapons. But the archer who shot at Jhik and missed, took a while to take another arrow out and so he was bashed to death on the head. The third bandit was afraid for his life, hands shaking, eyes twitching. The bandit was afraid of course, but as he looked into his fearsome eyes and begged for mercy, Jhik was picking up the dead bandits bow and arrow, unfamiliar at the point, he grabbed an arrow and put it firmly on the bow, he pulled it back just slightly with confusion and shot it out onto the bandits arm. The bandit cried and begged some more, and at the end he did let him go. After the incident, he went home, with blood splattered all over his cloths, fur and face. His mom was shocked and almost fainted, but his father was so proud. But Jhik wasn't happy with this, he killed two men, but he had to except the fact that he was born a fighter. And so the years past, he trained and fought, saved countless people from bandits, especially traders.
**Out of Character**
IGN: indyracoon
Age: 12
How did you find us? MC Forums
What Roleplay experience do you have? WoW, LotRO, DDO, various Minecraft servers, Dragon's Prophet, and some other games
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Meta-gaming is making your character know something in the future through an OOC source, and the knowledge being something your character probably would have never found out without the OOC source.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Power-gaming is making yourself too powerful through RP, such as killing 723 men, 293 horses, and a chicken with 1 punch.
Define God-Modding in your words: Godmodding is similar to power-gaming; it's making yourself overpowered in loads of things, such as dodging everything, flying because of 'magical powers', etc
**In Character**
Name: Aegther Fox Racoon (pronounced ahg-thur fox rakoon)
Nickname: (Optional)
Age: 19
Gender: M
Race: Nord
Appearance: Dark green eyes, average height, black hair, light skin. He wears a green hooded cloak, grey face scarf, a short tunic, a leather vest, a black belt, a quiver, leather arm bracers, leather pants, black boots, and fingerless gloves.
Personality: Aegther likes to explore and be anonymous. He can be friendly depending on the circumstances.
In-game RP example: (Include dialog)
A = Aegther
R = Argonian
K = Kahjit
A walks around the streets of the large castle.
R comes up to A.
R "Excuse me, sir, but are you intrested in my… my… um…"
A "Your what?"
K comes around and pickpockets A
R "My potion, it's a… Potion of speed."
A "How much is it?"
A looks for his money.
K watches
R "Well, it's quite expensive- it's--"
A "Well, it seems a pickpocket was here."
R "You see, I had made a deal, it wasn't my fault!"
K comes out.
K "No, it wasn't."
A looks at K
A "You thief!"
K "Well, it wasn't mine either-- you must let me explain!"
A "Explain yourself."
R walks off.
K "Well, I.. I… Alright, it was me! Take your money!"
K throws the money behind A.
Background: (Be detailed and in-depth. Also explain how you came to be in Akavir.)
Most of what Aegther can remember about his childhood was spending it in Skyrim. He liked it there, too. The town that he grew up in, was no other, than Riverwood. He always remembered waking up to the sound of the river, flowing and hitting rocks. No trouble normally occurred, and the guards would always break up any fight or keep away any danger. He lived like this until he was 12.
When Aegther was 12, he moved to Whiterun, the city that his father grew up in. Shortly after, his mother caught a disease and died. 2 years later, when Aegther turned 14, his father joined the military. He was in the military for a year before being wounded in battle and having to resign from his occupation. Then came Aegther's lust to explore, when he was 15. He wanted to visit Cyrodil and Marrowind, Hammerfell, and so on. But he really wanted to visit Cyrodil. His father would always say, "We don't have enough for the trip," or "I'm still recovering". When Aegther turned 17, he went out on his own to visit the imperial city Solitude. Then he decided to finally visit Cyrodil.
During his trip to Cyrodil, he encountered a Dark Elf. The Dark Elf said that he was running a transportation business, so Aegther paid him and got in. Aegther told him to travel to the Imperial City. He went up east, saying he'd take a shortcut. Aegther, not really liking Geography nor History, only knew that Cyrodil was down south of Skyrim. Aegther just trusted him and went along. He later found himself in a weird place with gigantic fungi and weird plants. They stopped outside of a small town. He asked where he was and why they stopped and the driver replied, "bandits."
Then he saw them, approaching the carriage with their weapons drawn. They had green cloaks which seemed to act as a symbol of something to each other (perhaps a group they formed that wears green cloaks). The driver took out a bow and shot one of them, just before taking a full impale from a sword. Aegther took the cloak and mask that the dead bandit was wearing and ran off. For some reason, though, the carriage driver had taken him to Marrowind (yes, the carriage driver somehow managed to mistake Cyrodil as in the position of Marrowind.). Being near a small town near a river with a port, he ran to one of the galleons, asking permission to board. "You don't even know where we're headed," was replied. "Take me anywhere, just let me board!". And so Aegther paid and got on. It set sail the day-after. When Aegther went above deck, it seemed those green-cloaked people were looking around. On the trip, he had made a friend, "Era'kiio" (pronounced Era-keoh), who trained Aegther how to use a sword and bow. And this trip was to an island very far away, Akavir.
IGN: TheGamingGhast
Age: 13
How did you find us? Through Youtube, I've Been Searching For Elder Scrolls Servers
What Roleplay experience do you have? I've Played Many RP Servers that Are Medevil
Define Meta-gaming in your words: My Strategy
Define Power-gaming in your words: Maximising Progress
Define God-Modding in your words: Describing Outcome Before It Happens
Name: Sinir
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Race: Khajiit
Appearance: Looks Strong, Is Medium Height, And Blue Eyes.
Personality: Wishes to Be A Bounty Hunter And He Has A Short Temper.
In-game RP example: Where IS HE!!! Tell Me NOW! Where Is That Scum Of A Leader, That Leads The Dark Brotherhood????!!!! Tell Me Now You Assassin Before I Decide To Kill You! I Will not Hesitate To Slit Your Throat, You Killed My Brother!!! I Swear To Talos I WILL KILL YOU!!! Assassin: Fine, Kill Me I Keep My Mouth Shut. "Snap" The Assassin Is Dead I Will Kill Them All..... Some Day.
Background: I Came from Daggerfall Seeking Revenge On The Ones Who Killed My Brother, And I Heard Rumor That The Dark Brotherhood From Daggerfall Went to Akaviri So I've Followed Their Trail Ever Since Seeking Blood.
*MASSIVE, MASSIVE, MASSIVE, EDITS!
IGN:hothhorn
Age:16
How did you find us?: Veterain, I've played on these community servers before.
What Roleplay experience do you have?: Fallout: sins of our fathers Elder scrolls Akavir. I also have been a part of serious roleplay in GMOD serious HL2 role play (even though many of the people who play that are GREEN beyond belief)
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Using outside information such as the ooc global chat in game to find a player. Or seeing a name tag show through a wall and then you find that character.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Forcing an interaction on to someone with out them being able to act out said action. Like if i where to slap someone by saying "so-and-so slaps that guy in the face". That's not fair RP because you forced the action onto someone.
Define God-Modding in your words: Being able to dodge every attack. Or coming out of a battle unscathed. being "over powered" Basically being immune to anything and everything thrown against you in combat or RP in general.
**In Character**
Name: Shahal Makart
Nickname: Chatter
Age:34
Gender: Male
Race:Dark elf
Appearance:Long white hair, A fair youthful face, For his race he is actually quite handsome, Dark red eyes and light grey skin. He always wears a hood and almost never shows his full face or hair that he holds up in the back partially with a ponytail he wears fabric garbs and he stands at 5'11. Has a decent limber muscle tone. (sorry my skin looks like he isn't wearing his hood I'll edit it if he gets accepted. but to be honest there is ALWAYS complications when I write it the first time)
Personality: Relatively silent, Calm, Talks only when necessary, Observant, Has the serpent for a starsign (Going to get magic approval for invisibility due to starsign this will most likely be voided but still worth the shot.) If someone got to know him they'd realize he is almost as crazy as a Tang' Mo as he has habits of hanging upside down.
In-game RP example:
(Shahal sits in a chair inside of the foul smelling pub and is approached by a Barmaid)
Barmaid: "What can I get you?"
Shahal says with a quiet tone and barely a whisper. "Black Briar"
(The room falls silent and a man with a strong build stands up. a nord)
Man Gives a hearty laugh!
Man: "You heard pointed ears!" he laughs "I like his style!"
Man goes to sit down with the elf
Man: "So what kind of elf are you that can handle a Black briar? Those things will kill you, you know!" he says with the bitter smell of alcohol on his breath.
Shahal says nothing.
Man: "A man of few words I see! oh well then." he sighs
The barmaid returns with the mead and goes to hand it to Shazar
Shahal takes the brew. He then attempts to give the lady the coins
The barmaid accepts them.
Shahal goes to walk out of the pub
*everyone in pub allows him to leave without objection*
Drunken man: "H-hey yo-you there" he stammers "Give me your me-mead."
Shahal says nothing and attempts to continue to walk on
Drunken man: "HE-HEY I'M TALKING TO YOU!" He goes to take a knife out of his pocket
Shahal turns towards the man, seeing the glint of his knife in the moonlight he tenses up his body partially and widens his stance
Drunken man goes for a forward thrust towards the elf
Shahal then goes to pivot on his heel and attempt to dodge as he then goes for the mans arm holding the knife.
the man gets his arm grabbed and he then goes for a swing however he is in a drunken stupor and might miss
Shahal lets the punch go its course towards his arm however he tenses his muscles. he then goes to kick the mans legs out since his upper torso would be facing forward whilst his feet would be planted.
The drunken man gets kicked and falls over he also drops his knife.
Shahal goes to punch him in the head hard enough to knock him out but not hard enough to kill him.
Drunken man now face first in the dirt can't avoid this attack and lets it hit him, his sight goes black.
Shahal goes to walk away from the scene
*no one is around and is successful at walking away*
Background: Shahal was a dark elf who was born in Tamreil inside of the imperial city itself! His parents where famous jewelery tradesmen and they traveled all the seas to trade their goods themselves.At a young age Shahal's parents constantly oversaw the treks to Akavir for their jewelry trade. His parents had to travel to Akavir together during the 6 months travel it was quite uneventful however Shahal's parents went off course and collided into the side of a large Rockey island wall as someone had sabotaged the lighthouse. His parents had an untimely demise however Shahal was safe inside the ships hold. The crew Was killed due to a raid but the invaders never maid it past the hold because a pack of Tang mo where nearby and heard all the commotion and decided to intervene with their martial arts and superior fighting skills. They where too late however as everyone else was dead. They searched the ship for survivors (and loot for trade) And they found Shahal the white haired dark elf (Which is what they described him as).
The Tang Mo originally tried to trade the boy to other people for work however they found that dark elves weren't exactly the best slaves as they where more of a "sneaky" race and people where scared that the elf boy would cut their throats rather then tend their fields. The tang mo then attempted to kill the boy but do to their monk-like behavior they couldn't bring themselves to it. They decided to raise them as their own instead. He then was given a robe with a hood due to the fact of his long white hair. Since this was the only connection to his lineage and how dark elves where quite proud of their hair he was given a hood so that no assailant could grasp it and gain an advantage in battle.The child received a journal which basically told him of his parents and where he was from but he felt only at home with the tang mo as they taught him to survive and thrive, by teaching him marshal arts and how to be quite agile despite the fact that he lacked a tail. His adopted parents however let him teach the orphan Tang Mo. He however was never good at talking and usually taught using gestures never did it much however when he was taught a shanty the tang mo would say it was the voice of the nine itself. the boy finally left the tang mo encampment because his caretakers where assassinated because they accidentally sold the wrong Kajiit fake glass gems. He then realized later that it was an organized assassination because the tang mos where actually a part of the Morag Tong. He soon realized he might be targeted by the assassins who killed his adopted parents and he decided to leave the tribe to avoid any further confrontation. (small side note he was raised in the swamp region as winter region would be unrealistic and the jungle region would be just plain BOOOOOORING)
Skooma defiantly kills.
What Roleplay experience do you have? A lot of diff mc rp servers, i rp a bit in skyrim for kicks when im bored, etc, etc.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Using out of game knowledge in-game such as names, crimes, and such that you're char didnt know about.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Power-gaming is while rp'ing you act as if you are more the most talented person for example "Leorio spun slashing the throat of the three mercenaries all at once"
Define God-Modding in your words: Acting as if your char is undying and unstoppable similar to powergaming.
**In Character** Name: M'aiq Age: 28 Gender: Male Race: Khajit Appearance: A light brown colored fur, narrow head, with eyes white as snow, he has a medium build, dresses fairly plainly. Personality: Intelligent, sly, untrusting, but if you get close enough to him he can be a fierce friend. or will he just stab you in the back? > oh and he likes fishing and long walks on the beach.
In-game RP example: (Include dialog) *Silann walks towards the mysterious man slowly* "Someone calls for you...." *the man spits onto the ground ignoring him* "Silann attempts to slip a dagger through the mans chest* *The man reacts such way _______*
Background: (Be detailed and in-depth. Also explain how you came to be in Akavir.) Born in skyrim with the Khajit caravans M'aiq was always a odd child, the way he manipulated others just to cause trouble, he said that he heard voices in his head encouraging him to deceive, most people just said that's because his mom was addicted to skooma when she was pregnant with him, but maybe, just maybe... there was a voice.. or maybe he lied about that too. As M'aiq grew in to a teenager he brought up the voices to his parent but they to put it off as him just being a bit unstable, M'aiq felt as if his parent were ignoring him all together so while they were trading outside of whiterun M'aiq snuck off to find something in one of the farmhouses to steal hoping his parents could selling it and give him attention, but he was caught and was turned over to the guards and locked up into a cell... his parents didnt even notice he was gone and so the caravan moved on to another town and M'aiq was left to rot in a cell the only thing comforting him was that voice, telling him how he could manipulate the guards and get him out, so he followed the instructions and was released within the week. Though M'iaq was free now he had nowhere to go, so he traveled the lands and learned of the daedric princes and of Boethiah, someone like him, deceitful, manipulative, cunning, so he set of in search of a shrine, or anything that could point him towards this wonderous daedra. M'aiq found an shrine and he sat there for weeks, hoping for something.... the voice in his head was silent, and he felt lonely, so he reached out and was answered (or he is just insane).... the voice told him a place where he could prosper, a place away from the cold of skyrim, so M'iaq set off by boat to........ Akavir. (i dont intend for my backstory to add any advantage to my character, he's just cunning thats all, hope you liked it
IGN: Theepicdwarf
Age: 15
How did you find us? I was in the search for a Elder Scrolls RP, after playing both Oblvion and Skyrim, and studying the lore.
What Roleplay experience do you have? I've roleplayed on previous Minecraft servers, and many years on random sites.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: The act of knowing much about a game (or lore) to determine your actions in a roleplay.
Define Power-gaming in your words: To use an action to force another character to do something that they would normally not doing.
Define God-Modding in your words: To do an outrageously over-powered action that is beyond the power of said character.
**In Character**
Name: Doge (Pronounced Dowge)
Nickname: Slashes-Much-Faster
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Race: Argonian
Appearance: Greenish skin and a bright red neck.
Personality: Kind and generous, but quick to anger
In-game RP example: Doge sits at the table, greeting the lost traveller into his home. "Ah, greetings Nord. What brings you here?" The Argonian asked, handing him a tankard. (Kindness)
Doge smashes a plate on a table, glaring at the Dunmer that sat across from him. "I suggest you shut your mouth before you end up with a dagger in your back!" (Anger)
Background: (Be detailed and in-depth. Also explain how you came to be in Akavir.)
He originally hails from Black Marsh, off of a small settlement on the south coast. During a pirate raid on said settlement, the pirates kidnapped him, raising him as one of their own, training him in using a cutlass. While on a raid in Akavir, he was left behind when he was persumed dead in a burning building, only to be rescued by a Imperial who gave him some gold and sent him on his way.
**Out of Character**
IGN: Theepicdwarf (Sadly)
Age: 15
How did you find us?|
I was looking for a good Elder Scrolls Roleplaying server, since I am both fond of Elder Scrolls and RPing.
What Roleplay experience do you have?|
I’ve RP’ed on previous Minecraft sites, A twitter RP account that recently hit 600+ followers, and many other miscellaneous sites.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: To use knowledge of a game to influence and action.
Define Power-gaming in your words: To force another character to do something unrealistic, or something that could’ve been avoided.
Define God-Modding in your words: To use powers that are much beyond the powers of said character.
**In Character**
Name: Dan-Za
Nickname: Slashes-Swords-Faster (Cyodillic Name)
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Race: Argonian
Appearance: Dark Green skin, Normally clad in dirty and dark clothing, with a strong build.
Personality: Although while being Kind and Hospitable, he can be quick to temper and enjoys playing practical jokes. (Like most Argonians, he worships the Hist.)
In-game RP example: The plan was perfect! Everything was in just the right place, to make sure the prank went perfectly. As soon as someone sat down in that chair, it would collapse, pulling the tripwire, sending the bucket toppling down onto the person’s head! Too bad the person to sit in the chair was the ship’s captain! “Wait, sir!” The Agonian pushed the captain out of the way, only to have the bucket of ice-cold water fall onto his own head. “What in Oblivion just happened, Dan-Za?” Dan-Za got up, shivering from the water. “I-It must’ve been one of the crew -members, sir! You know how troublesome they can be.” About 3 hours later, Dan-Za found himself scrubbing the entire ship, out in the rain.
Background: (Be detailed and in-depth. Also explain how you came to be in Akavir.)
Dan-Za originally hails from Black Marsh, off of a small settlement on the south coast. During a pirate raid on said settlement, the pirates kidnapped him as a child, raising him as one of their own, training him in using a cutlass. While on a raid in Akavir, he was left behind when he was persumed dead in a burning building, only to be rescued by a Imperial who gave him some gold and sent him on his way.
IGN: KappaPhoenix
Age: 15
How did you find us? Surfing for RP Servers
What Roleplay experience do you have? Some random non-whitelisted servers.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Meta-gaming is using information you have learned OOC towards your advantage IC.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Power-gaming is not giving your opponent a chance to reacting, such as stating that you hit them with your sword without their chance to respond.
Define God-Modding in your words: Being completely invincible in combat. Dodging all attacks thrown at you. Blowing someone up with the flex of your pinky.
**IC**
Name: Fillimir Clengoth
Nickname: Filli
Age: 117
Gender: Male
Race: Bosmer
Appearance: 5'9" Slim and Agile. Has short semi-spiked blonde hair. Natural white Bosmer skin. Wears a white cloth shirt under a brown leather tunic. Also wears brown leather chaps, boots and gloves. Keeps a quiver of arrows on his back, and a steel dagger on his left side. On his right side are an assortment of random potions and poisons. He usually keeps his bow in his left hand, ready for action.
Personality: An amicable hunter with a sense of humor. He can be serious when necessary and quite deceitful to his strangers and his pray. Tends to unintentionally try and change the topic of conversations to hunting most often. He often play practical jokes on his friends like pouring lingering stamina damaging poisons into their food. He would kill a dragon and stab a troll in all three of its eyes to rescue a friend. He keeps away from alcohol because he believes it clouds your judgement and actions. He treats women with respect and the utmost priority. He is a bit on the dangerous side when it comes to his actions.
In-game RP example:
*Fillimir knocks on the door to a cottage somewhere in the mountains of Cyrodiil.*
*A large, surly, Nordic man opens the door and examines the Bosmer, then gives a frown.*
"Why are you here?" Asks the Nord.
"I was wondering if I could take shelter in your cottage. It is getting dark, and I don't wish to face the creatures that these mountains have to offer." Explains Fillimir.
*The Nord gives a grunt.* "Fine, come in, but don't touch anything. You may sleep on the rug."
"Oh, thank you." Says Fillimir as he rushes through the doorway.
Around half of an hour later, the Nord is cooking some food for him and his guest.
"You seem to be well equiped. Why couldn't you Brave the mountains untill you reached Bruma?" Asks the Nord.
"I don't want to take any chances." Replies Fillimir.
"It doesn't make any sense to me."
*The Nord is paying attention to the food and not watching Fillimir.*
*Fillimir carefully knotches an arrow and aimes it and the Nords head.*
*The Nord turn to see Fillimir aiming at him and quickly ducks as the arrow flies above his head. Enraged, he then transforms into a Werewolf.*
*Fillimir smiles.* "I was hoping to catch you in this form."
*The Werewolf charges at Fillimir and attempt to claw him, but Fillimir was swifts enough to only get part of his sleeve torn.*
*Fillimir promptly knotches another arrow to hit his mark in the eye.*
*The Werewolf falls with a howl and Fillimir smiles again.* "Another one for the wall."
Background:
Fillimir was born in Falinesti, the great moving tree of Valenwood. He spent much of his childhood bow hunting with his father, and killed many trophies. Fillimir's time spent with his mother allowed him to learn the art of alchemy, to an extent. Fillimir gave his life to the bow, and could see his future with it, but he never imagined the prey that he would hunt.
When Fillimir was 30 the conflict in Skyrim began, and the Empire was searching for soldiers to fight against the Stormcloaks. Many of his friends took up in arms to fight the Nords, and so did Fillimir. Most of his time was spent defending forts or caravans and he never saw much combat. Whenever he did see combat it would usualy involve some spotting some Stormcloak scouts and then shooting them with other bowman. He thought that soldier life would be more fast paced than sitting in fortified walls or walking along side a few horses. When he was 32, at the end of the war, Fillimir took part in defending Solitude from the attacking Stormcloaks. The only reason he survived was because he was taken prisoner. Shortly after his capture he was released when peace between the Stromcloaks and the Empire was found, and he was immediatly discharged.
While the Thalmor and the Aldmeri Dominion remained a threat, Fillimir was mostly untouched be the conflict, because he was protected be the trees of Valenwood. He soon found staying in his old stomping grounds boring and set out to hunt exotic animals all around Tamriel. The first were-creature he met was a wereboar in the sands of Hammerfell. It proved a worthy opponent, and gave Fillimir a bleeding wound, but an arrow to the knee and a dagger to the skull proved to stop it (
Fillimir saw the were-creatures of Hiricine as his prey from that day. He worships Hiricine for the sport of hunting but doesn't wish to become were-creature. He has no hatred for the were-creatures, and hunts them purely for sport. He had heard about Akavir for around half a century and the recent happeneing made him curious. He thought the land might need experienced hunters to help with its issue, so scrapped together some money from selling hides and chartered the next ship to Akavir.
Skooma Kills
Age:15
How did you find us? I've joined before
What Roleplay experience do you have? Akavir, and some other medieval roleplay servers
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Using Outside knowledge that you use for your character to abuse for personal gain
Define Power-gaming in your words: Power-gaming is not giving your opponent a chance to reacting, such as stating that you hit them with your sword without their chance to respond.
Define God-Modding in your words:Being completely invincible in combat. Dodging all attacks thrown at you. Or being able to do things your character normally wouldn't be able to do
**In Character**
Name:Raxleon Macrin
Nickname: (Optional) Leon
Age: 21
Gender:M
Race: Imperial
Appearance:Leon is a well-Built Man, he is 6' on the dot, lush brown hair that is no longer than his shoulders, he proudly wears a scar on his right cheek from an brief tussle with a pack wolves. You can also notice the tracings of a small beard. He has a pair of sky blue eyes. His calloused hands are the hands of a working man.
Personality:Leon is a kind gentle man, he is playful but knows when to be serious, he also knows how to hold a grudge! He loves to work. Being young he also loves to party and get into trouble. A lot. A born leader Leon loves to help make plans and get things in motion, he is no king or ruler of anything but he could lead a small group of men to battle and lead them with confidence. Through his time in akavir he has become a better skilled warrior and also much stealthier.
In-game RP example: (Include dialog)
Leon was in no mood to deal with those drunken bastards he used to call firends, but he needed a drink and he didn't care.
When he opened the doors to the bar one of the men immediately called to him
"Leon *hic* how the hell are ya?!"
"Shut it Orius, Im not in the mood right now."
"Oh come now *hic* you were always up for a party back when we first met *hic*"
"Yes well maybe I've Learned my lesson and i decided not to take any more of your crap, you drunken oaf!"
Orius pracitcally jumped over the table.
"what you just say to me?!" He brought his fist up, at this point Leon knew that his "friend" had been waiting for a fight all night
"If it's a brawl you want then a brawl you'll get"
Orius took the first swing, a hard left hook but Leon easily dodge it
"Come on Stand still!" Orius shouted
Orius took another swing this time it connected with Leon's shoulder, Leon stumbled a bit but he recovered. This time Leon stood up and swung his fist a decent left jab followed by a right upper-cut, a move his father had taught him when the used to wrestle in the yard.
Orius stumbled backwards dazed and confused. He Charged at Leon with all his might and he dropped his shoulder in an attempt to throw him across the bar. but Leon side stepped and extended his leg in an attempt to trip Orius. Orius Fell with an amzing crash and he was out like a light.
"Well you know what they say" The Bartender, who had watched the whole thing, said "The drunker they are, the dumber they fall."
Background: (Be detailed and in-depth. Also explain how you came to be in Akavir.) Leon was born in raised in Skyrim he lived throught the great war between the Imperial's and Stormcloaks as a solider for the Imperial army. He was greatly fond of his father, who had raised him and his younger brother since Leon was 5 years old because his Mother had died from illness. Leon's Father Taught him everything, Basic handy skills, sword fighting, and even a little bit of the arcane arts. After the war Leon decided that he had gotten all that he wanted from Skyrim and that he wanted to see more. He had heard of a place called Akavir and all of the amazing sights and adventures that could behold there. He worked around doing odd jobs and chopping wood until he had earned enough for the next boat to Akavir and his adventure had truly began.
SKOOMA KILLS
http://www.minecraftforum.net/topic/1589022-▒new▒╣minecraft-clan║slots-available╠godsofwar/
Ign: Ro_Stronghammer
Age: 16
How did you find us?: I have been on the akavir role-play server before but it was a while ago so I wanted to come back
What role-play experience do you have?: I have played a few role-play based DnD games, I usually make my TES characters role-play based (Ex: A ranger that would only be able to use hide armor, steel swords and an imperial bow). Also I have written a few short stories so maybe that counts for something?
Metagaming in my own words: Abusing other things like phone, Skype or out of game chat to give yourself an advantage by knowing what is happening in other places and being able to stage things out like a surprise attack OOC.
Powergaming in my own words: Being Op and out of reasonability as a character. This means hiding underground (Seeing how it is minecraft) and waiting for someone to come and killing them unreasonably.
Godgaming in my own words: Doing things in character that are physically impossible as a character. Things like lets say you are having an RP fight and you're about to be stabbed and killed. It just so happens that you like this character so you leave your computer and go do something else. This leaves your character to live another day and your opponent ed off. This is not ok.
**In Character**
Name: Talas (Pronounced Tay-lus)
Age: 33
Gender: Male
Race: Bosmer (Wood elf)
Appearance: 5'5. Brown hair. Wears furs and favors the bow and daggers, even though I'm more of a sword man myself.
Personality: Talas is a very nice wood elf. He is not a big fan of killing others but he will if he is threatened. Talas is not very easily angered and keeps a warm smile most of the time. As a wood elf he is very attuned with nature and follows the green pact, even outside of the forests of Valenwood. The reason he does not like killing others is that the green pact requires that he devours the corpse of the every person he has killed in (At most) three days. He is strictly carnivorous and will not harm flora of any kind. His crafts include monster hunting and bone weapon making as well as being skilled with a forge.
In-game RP example:
Guard: You there, Wood Elf, what brings you to Skryim?
Talas: Just traveling, can I be of any help to you?
Guard: Yea, you can get out of my city, damn elf.
Talas: -Talas simply nods starts to walk past the guard-
Guard: The city gates are that way -points the opposite direction-
Talas: Yes I am quite aware, I have to go and gather my belongings -Talas smiles
Guard: Don't you mock me elf! -Guard draws his sword-
Talas: -Talas calmly keeps walking-
Guard: Grah! -Guard lunges at Talas-
Talas: -Talas slides a dagger made of bone from his sleeve and simply sticks it behind him, impaling the enraged guard- I'm sorry...
Guard: -Guard falls over and clutches the wound-
Talas: -Starts to walk away but drops a healing potion on to the guards hand- Drink up. Can't have you dying over such a silly thing such as that.
Background: Talas grew up as any normal wood elf child would. Learning the ways of hunting and learning to love and protect nature. At the age of 20 Talas grew tired of the same old thing, going out, hunting for the day, returning to his lovely wife and going to sleep. Being restless, Talas walked outside, gazed at the large forms of Masser and Secunda and whispered to himself "I wish something exciting would happen around here. Everyday its the same thing and I just cannot do it anymore." Talas went to sleep and the next few weeks were the same, nothing changed...Until the 22nd of Frostfall. A boy, no more then 13 ran around the small settlement of migratory trees to wake up the warrior Bosmer. He shouted "Everyone get up! Kajiit have been spotted a few leagues east felling the tallest of our trees! Immediately he burst from his bed, grabbed his bow off the wall and his wife followed after. They met up with the a group of 10 other Bosmer and ran through the trees, rushing to save the things most important to them. Then he heard it. The sickening sound of a tree collapsing to the mossy floor of the forest. In rage he rushed ahead of all the others and started firing arrows at the first thing he saw. These were the kajiit but they had archers as well. The kajiits well outnumbered the small group but they did not know Valenwood like Talas and the others did. After dispatching a group of 8 with a well placed volly, he heard a scream of a woman. Not a scratchy kajiit scream but...the scream of his wife. "No, no. NO!" He though with worry. Rushing through the forest, he found her. Dead. The battle continued, but Talas did not join. After the battle, for Talas, no drinks were drunk, no meat was eaten. Talas cursed himself for being so stupid, "If only I hadn't made that damned wish! Then...Then she would still be here." Sad and broken Talas decided to leave for farther lands, in search of a better life. A few years passed and he had arrived in hammerfell. Of course he did not take a direct path there, he had gone to Cyrodil first and made gold as a huntsman and bone-weapon maker. Talas had made enough gold to pack up and leave for other lands, and his feet carried him to Hammerfell. Here Talas met a man that went by the name of Sader. Sader was an old healer, a priest of arkay. Apparenly in his prime, he was a hunter. Not the type of hunter that Talas is no, a monster hunter. Over the next few years Talas would learn from Sader, the way of peace of a priest and deadliness of a monster hunter. After 3 more years Sader died of old age. Now a changed man Talas made his way east in search of new adventure, to make a life for himself and to leave everything that he held dear, and hated, behind forever.
Skooma Kills
IGN: SamSakurai
Age: 16
How did you find us?: I was previously on Akavir, and have been deeply involved with RP-Craft over time.
What Roleplay experience do you have?: I was an active member of Akavir from the day I began help building in late 2012 to when the server closed in the summer of 2013. During that period, I served as a Role Play Monitor, and a Lore Master. I also played on the original SooF in the last month or so of its existence. I have since briefly played on the Elder Scrolls: Sands of Alik'r, and participated in various forms of role-playing elsewhere, including table-top games.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Meta-Gaming is the use of information learned in an out-of-character environment or method, and using said information in an in-game capacity. This includes talking OOC, using knowledge that the player knows but the character doesn't, or knowing that someone is there because another player informed those involved that they were hiding nearby.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Power-Gaming is forcing an action on the player or the world without giving them the chance to affect the outcome or alter its genesis.
Define God-Modding in your words: The use of items or abilities outside of your character's realistic spectrum of skill or attainability.
]In Character[
Name: Rheves Deep-Raed
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Race: Nord (Colovian Highlands)
Appearance: Rheves is a rough, coiled-spring of a man. He stands unassumingly at 6'1", his hands often either limp by his side or fiddling with some piece of gear adorning him. He's fairly lean, most of the fat stripped away from bad eating and hard training, leaving the muscle underneath to stretch the skin. Like many Nords, Rheves' skin is a pale color, despite all the sun he's gotten over time. His arms are covered in scratchy dark hair, and his hands are calloused and nimble. His face is stretched and thin, with bags under his pale eyes. It is framed by badly cut hair above and badly cut beard below, both dark in color. His voice is low and authoritative, with a bit of a rumble due to a reoccurring issue with his throat.
Personality: Rheves is a driven, highly principled person. He has seen evil, and he has been taught good. He knows the difference clearly, and he knows what it takes to protect one, at the cost of the other. He sees the struggle between good and evil as the ultimate importance of the world, for everyone whether they know it or not. He is confident and casual when communicating with others, and is aware that his belief can resemble fanaticism, so he keeps it quiet. He genuinely cares for the innocent and those too weak to protect themselves, and believes they are worth fighting for. He also enjoys knowledge, and take pleasure in reading as a pastime. This curiosity has flowed throughout his personality, thus leading him to often ask questions of others so as to fully understand things around him. His work has infected him with a dark sense of humor over time, and he is nowadays rarely concerned with honor. An age has passed with him; as he grows older, he grows harder and more determined, and in a way more dangerous.
On a more personal level, Rheves is a man striving for a sense of identity, and he always has been. First in a large family, then in the legion, he usually lacked a proper outlet of individuality throughout his life, and has spent much of his time post-army seeking it. He has found this in his work, which he takes great pride in, and considers very much his own.
In-game RP example:
Rheves steps inside of the darkened tavern, the musty air causing him to lightly cough. With a casual air, he walks across the old wooden floors to one of the chairs and sits, taking note of his surroundings once he has. A thin man with a stringy beard approaches.
"Want something?" He asks, seemingly displeased with idea of business. Rheves lightly nods and clears his throat, looking up and replying,
"Aye, I assume you got some mead?"
The first answer is the bartenders rolled eyes.
"O' course we got mead, this 'aint some bleedin' top-rate winery..."
Rheves nods, absolutely agreeing with that. The bartender turns with an disgruntled mutter, and begins to plod back to the bar to retrieve the drink.
Background:
Rheves was born to a large family in western Cyrodiil, one of the younger children of the brood. His parents were caring and encouraging; his father a farmer, his mother mostly teaching the kids at home and managing the household. From the day he was born, he was taught by the code that his parents had developed over their lives; a code of morals, a code of right and of wrong, a code to live by. It was something he valued as he grew up, something he firmly believed in. As Rheves grew older, he started helping his father in the fields and hunting like the other older boys, and got to go on trips to sell crops. Even as participated in those journeys, he applied his worldview to what he saw around him and recognized how much of the world was evil at its core, and what that did to people.
Rheves and his brothers had always sparred, and there was always the rare wild animal or troublemaker that had to be driven off, giving the young Nord the occasional excitement, but he wanted more. The Legion was recruiting heavily, and Rheves saw this as a chance to finally get out on his own. Once he was of age, he immediately signed up with his parents' regretful blessing.
Rheves experienced new things in the military. Everything was ordered, everyone was disciplined. While somewhat slow at first to adjust, he learned combat easily, ferociously becoming the best grappler in his squad, and excelled with a sword. It was within his first months out of training that his squad was put into combat against the Aldmeri. Rheves was found after the battle slumped over a wounded squadmate, eyes wide and sword bloody. A few more survived engagements after that, and his apparent skill caught the eye of an officer, and Rheves was promoted to sergeant, where he began teaching others the art of war. With a loud voice and a sharp eye, Sergeant Deep-Raed was a feared teacher and respected comrade, but it left him feeling empty. He didn't feel like he was directly changing things in the war, he didn't feel like he was really helping. He was fighting because of the people in the villages and hillsides who were in danger, he was fighting to save the way of the life civilized people enjoyed. But he rarely fought anymore. After seven long years in the Legion, he left.
Rheves felt refreshed by the new world he found himself in, no longer a legionnaire. But he recognized that he would need new purpose. While living amongst the people, he saw many things, frequent evils that were missed by the eye of the Empire. One moonless night he followed two men who had beaten a drinkers money out him, eventually coming upon them in an alley. It didn't take long to dispatch both, and Rheves felt a strange soar of usefulness again. Lacking any real income due to a reluctance to take a job, the Nord began living in the woods and hunting for his meals, as he had as a boy. Over time, he simply wandered, opposing wrongdoing where he saw it, taking apart corrupt structures as best he could, getting more skilled at fieldcraft along the way. He could see that there was much more darkness in the world than just the Aldmeri, and he took it upon himself to counter it.
After news of the cataclysm in Akavir reached his ears, he felt a calling. He made his way toward an open port, and looked to book himself passage to this land. It cost him all of the bounty money he had, but he stood upon the deck with a lightness of heart and a grim face as he approached the wild continent.
Skooma kills.
IGN: J_Wolf_K
Age: 16
How did you find us?: I was already here, reapplying for the server opening.
What Roleplay experience do you have?: I've been here before, Sands of Alik'r, Telcore Tradewinds, and several other RP's.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: When you act on information IC, you know OOC, but your character doesn't know IC.
Define Power-gaming in your words: When you make your own character more powerful then they should.
Define God-Modding in your words: When you RP as a character that is not yours and make them more powerful then they are.
**In Character**
Name: Vorian Vothor
Nickname: Seer
Age: 879
Gender: Male
Race: Altmer
Appearance: He wears a black hooded robe with dark gray trim and under clothing. Black gloves that have spiked finger tips, and dark gray/black boots. He wears a tattered dark gray/black shroud around his shoulders and neck that reaches far down his robe. He always wears his hood up, and also wears a dark gray pottery mask that covers his entire face. The eye slits for the mask are thin, and over the area of the left eye slit their is a rune/mark carved into it.
Personality: He keeps a rather neutral personality and perspective. He is not quick to take sides, thinking things through, preferring to remain as a neutral party unless it would benefit him otherwise. He usually thinks about himself first and others last, though is rather protective of women in general. He stands both on the 'dark' and 'light' side along in the middle on the moral line, in such see's things often from all perspectives. Overall, he is extremely rational, and good to have on your side if you can convince him.
In-game RP example:
We are by ourself in an enemy tribe, carrying out an assassination.
We need to get to the Chief’s tent, across the plain the tribe is stationed in. We hear the steps of guards approaching in the distance.
We sneak back into the shadows of night, watching the two guards walk past.
“Why is Ri’Kalik so paranoid as of late? Khajiit thinks he is expecting something?” They spoke as they walked.
The other one spoke in a slightly raised voice. “Of course Ri’Kalik is scared! Ri’Talmad has sent his assassin for him. Why do you think we are here?”
The other one nodded. “This one knows, bu-“
There was a snap. I had stepped on a dry branch, attracting the attention of the guards.
We had drawn our daggers, keeping them in hand. We moved around in the shadows, as to get around them.
We watch as they head to where I was, moving in for what must be done.
I sprint to the smaller guard, hoping to take out the agile target first.
We quickly thrust one dagger into his back. Attempting to silence him we twirl our other arm for his neck, hoping to slit his throat before he can speak.
We moved to slow however; he let out a sharp yelp before we slit his throat. The attention of the larger, bulkier guard was on us now.
We stayed in swift position, ready to go flying in any direction.
He pulled out a large sword, gripping it with both hands. “Prepare to die Laughing Skull.” He said spoke in an angered voice.
He lifted his sword up, now lunging it down in a massive blow.
Do to his larger size and slower movements; we were able to roll out of the way of the swing.
We sprint around him, moving our daggers into a slicing position. As we sprint, we move our daggers outward, slicing him slightly on his back.
He had dropped his sword, and now threw his claw to my side. It hit, breaking one of our ribs in the process.
We had fallen to the ground out of breath, our daggers flying out of reach.
He had retrieved his sword and prepared for a killing blow, putting all his might into this strike.
His size one again slowed him, allowing us to quickly roll out of the way. We quickly push ourselves up, and sprint behind him.
His sword stuck in the ground from the blow, he struggled to retrieve it. While doing this, I move behind him and position him into a headlock.
He struggles to break our grip, though we do not waver. “This one apologizes for the death of your companion. Khajiiti will spare your life; do not waste what we give you now.”
From the headlock we slam his head into the hilt of his sword, rendering him unconscious.
We dragged the bodies into the shadows, along with their weapons. We cover them with a tarp found hanging by a tent.
After several moments searching we find our daggers, making our way to the tent of the Chief to finish our mission.
Background:
Vorian was born in the Summerset Isles in 2E 736 in the city of Dusk. His father, an alchemist, tried to teach him the art when he was young, though it wasn't to his interest. His mother was a mage, and that on the other hand grabbed his interest. She had taught the basics of magic, and how to control it and exercise his magicka. He would train for hours on end to be able to know the arts of magic well enough. He had grown studying magic with his mother until he was old enough to move away. Packing his bags, he left his family home and went off.
In his travels, he had encountered a Priestess of Arkay named Varulae, who had taught him of the G-D of Life and Death, though he solely focused on the death part. She offered to teach him both the arts of Restoration and Conjuration, Healer and Necromancy, though he only took her on up on the Necromancy. He spent a few years studying with her before he went off on his own again. Having taken the idea of the Religion the wrong way, he had solely focused on necromancy, and had killed many innocent travelers for his rituals and experiments.
It was when he had met Varulae again in a temple to Arkay, did he realize his wrong doings. She had introduced him the the High Priest of Arkay, who offered him redemption if he were to turn from his dark path. And so he did, spending another many years to know learn Restoration. He had though, taken the religion to seriously now, seeing most people as wicked as he was. In this, he had become a violent preacher, often going to far and accusing innocents of crimes they did not commit solely out of suspicion. It would not be for many other years that he had finally found balance, once again, through Varulae.
She had taken him through his rough path, and taught him that Arkay was not solely just righteousness and wickedness, light and dark, life and death, but both. She had taught him the balance of the Religion, and so, he finally understood how to treat it. With this, he had taken up Varulae as a wife, and they had four daughters. They lived happily for a while, and he had even eventually become the High Priest of Arkay in the area. It was in the rising of the Third Aldmari Dominion that things changed dramatically.
He had some say as the High Priest of Arkay, and he was a supporter of the current gov't, as was his family. Due to this, the Thalmor came after him, killed his family, and almost killed him, leaving him with a horrible branded scar over his left eye. It was then when he fled from the Summerset Isles, and settled in Cyrodiil. There he had commissioned a mask for himself to hide the branded scar. In Cyrodiil. he had retaken his place as a Priest.
Though with the Oblivion Crises and Great War, he was forced to flee even from there, heading to Skyrim in the College of Winterhold. He had spent many years there before the war had once again engulfed all of Tamriel. It was when word of another continent came up that he finally decided that this was his last chance to escape the Thalmor and Dominion, preach his religion, and learn his magic. So selling almost all he had, he baught a boat to Akavir.
Conjuration:
Level 1: Soulsense - Become aware of the strength of a target's soul
Level 2: Raise Lesser Dead - Raise a weak dead target to fight for you, for 1 minute
Restoration:
Level 1: Mend - Heal a tiny, but pervasive amount of damage. All paper-cuts, small bruises, and minor fatigue removed
Level 2: Restore - Heal a minor amount of damage. A single small gash, broken finger or toe, small burn
Skooma Kills
Ign: Ro_Stronghammer
Age: 16
How did you find us?: I have been on the akavir role-play server before but it was a while ago so I wanted to come back
What role-play experience do you have?: I have played a few role-play based DnD games, I usually make my TES characters role-play based (Ex: A ranger that would only be able to use hide armor, steel swords and an imperial bow). Also I have written a few short stories so maybe that counts for something?
Metagaming in my own words: Abusing other things like phone, Skype or out of game chat to give yourself an advantage by knowing what is happening in other places and being able to stage things out like a surprise attack OOC.
Powergaming in my own words: I think powergaming is forcing actions of other players or npcs with out the other player having a fair chance. Ex: Talas tackles and stabs the attacker". It should be "Talas ATTEMPTS to tackle and stab the attacker"
Godgaming in my own words: Doing things in character that are physically impossible as a character. Things like lets say you are having an RP fight and you're about to be stabbed and killed. It just so happens that you like this character so you leave your computer and go do something else. This leaves your character to live another day and your opponent ed off. This is not ok.
**In Character**
Name: Talas (Pronounced Tay-lus)
Age: 33
Gender: Male
Race: Bosmer (Wood elf)
Appearance: 5'5. Brown hair. Wears furs and favors the bow and daggers, even though I'm more of a sword man myself. Taylus has a longer pointed face, darker skin and one silver ring on his right hand. He has green eyes but usually has them closed, as a monk would.
Personality: Talas is a very nice wood elf. He is not a big fan of killing others but he will if he is threatened. Talas is not very easily angered and keeps a warm smile most of the time. Talas is very skilled in the art of speech and often uses bribery as a form of getting others to do as he needs. As a wood elf he is very attuned with nature and follows the green pact, even outside of the forests of Valenwood. The reason he does not like killing others is that the green pact requires that he devours the corpse of the every person he has killed in (At most) three days. He is strictly carnivorous and will not harm flora of any kind. His crafts include monster hunting and bone weapon making as well as being skilled with a forge.
In-game RP example:
Scene: Talas is walking down a old abandoned road when two Argonian thieves approach him, demanding his gold and other precious items.
Argonian thief 1:"What brings you to Skyrim Elf? Here to make some coin?"
Argonian thief 2:"Because thats what we are here to do. Now hand over your coin and valuables" -Draws two daggers-
Talas: "Now now gentlemen I'm sure that we can come to some sort of agreement hmm?" -Talas puts his hands in his pockets
Argonian thief 1: "Heh, I notice you have got a nice ring there, how about you hand that over, and we will leave your limbs attached" -pulls out a mace from its holster-
Talas: "I would rather not give up my ring, its from wife you see." -Talas smiles but has a look of sadness in his eyes-
Argonian thief 2: "You think that matters to us? All we want is some decent coin!"
Argonian thief 1: "I'm done talking! You hand over the ring or die!"
Talas: -Talas simply keeps his hands in his pockets and smiles-
Argonian theif 2: "Graaah!" -He leaps at talas with his two daggers going for his neck-
Talas: -Ducks and elbows the argonian in the stomach but the Argonian gets a good cut on his side from one of the daggers-
Argonian thief 1: -Runs at him and attempts to tackle him-
Talas: -Falls over from the force of the argonian but attempts to break his attackers grip-
Talas: Fine. -Pulls out two bone daggers- "I'm going to regret this more then you are." -mutters "I hate the taste of argonian"-
Argonian theif 1&2: -Both charge from each side and attack rapidly-
Talas: -Extends his arms with the daggers and impales both in the chest, one hitting a lung and the other, the heart-
Agronian thief 1&2: -Fall to the ground, dead.-
Talas: -Smiles sadly and drags them off into the forest to have his meal of the two Argonians-
Background: Talas grew up as any normal wood elf child would. Learning the ways of hunting and learning to love and protect nature. At the age of 26 Talas grew tired of the same old thing, going out, hunting for the day, returning to his lovely wife and going to sleep. Being restless, Talas walked outside, gazed at the large forms of Masser and Secunda and whispered to himself "I wish something exciting would happen around here. Everyday its the same thing and I just cannot do it anymore." Talas went to sleep and the next few weeks were the same, nothing changed...Until the 22nd of Frostfall. A boy, no more then 13 ran around the small settlement of migratory trees to wake up the warrior Bosmer. He shouted "Everyone get up! Kajiit have been spotted a few leagues east felling the tallest of our trees! Immediately he burst from his bed, grabbed his bow off the wall and his wife followed after. They met up with the a group of 10 other Bosmer and ran through the trees, rushing to save the things most important to them. Then he heard it. The sickening sound of a tree collapsing to the mossy floor of the forest. In rage he rushed ahead of all the others and started firing arrows at the first thing he saw. These were the kajiit but they had archers as well. The kajiits well outnumbered the small group but they did not know Valenwood like Talas and the others did. After dispatching a group of 8 with a well placed volly, he heard a scream of a woman. Not a scratchy kajiit scream but...the scream of his wife. "No, no. NO!" He though with worry. Rushing through the forest, he found her. Dead. He started to weep as he held her in his arms. He said goodbye one last time, took the ring he had given to her from her hand and got up. The battle continued, but Talas did not join. After the battle, for Talas, no drinks were drunk, no meat was eaten. Talas cursed himself for being so stupid, "If only I hadn't made that damned wish! Then...Then she would still be here." Sad and broken Talas decided to leave for farther lands, in search of a better life. A few years passed and he had arrived in hammerfell. Of course he did not take a direct path there, he had gone to Cyrodil first and made gold as a huntsman and bone-weapon maker. Talas had made enough gold to pack up and leave for other lands, and his feet carried him to Hammerfell. Here Talas met a man that went by the name of Sader. Sader was an old healer, a priest of arkay. Apparenly in his prime, he was a hunter. Not the type of hunter that Talas is no, a monster hunter. Over the next few years Talas would learn from Sader, the way of peace of a priest and deadliness of a monster hunter. After 3 more years Sader died of old age. Now a changed man Talas made his way east in search of new adventure, to make a life for himself and to leave everything that he held dear, and hated, behind forever. When Talas arrived back in Cyrodil he decided to continue like he did before, crafting weapons and hunting, except now he was not just hunting game. He had done quite a few jobs and was resting in an inn. "Would you like any more nordic ale?" said a tall, blond nordic bartender. "No, no I have had quite enough" said Talas, feeling slightly light headed, "I would like a room for the night however" said Talas as he set ten gold septims on the counter. "Certainly" She said "You room is down the hall, third door on your right". Talas stumbled through the hallway and eventually reached his room, and as he was about to open the door he heard a few men talking. "Yes I heard there were snake people!", "Your kidding.", "I would not kid about something like this. They call it Akavir!". Talas shrugged it off and went to sit on his bed. He stared out the window at Nirns two moons while fidgeting with his wives ring. He let out a long sigh and said "Akavir....". The next day he bid no one goodbye, as he had become close to none, other then Sader, sense he had left Valenwood. He strapped on his bow, grabbed his bag and started to walk. He walked far and he walked long and eventually he reached the town of Dawnstar in Skryim. The Nords had not been the most welcoming of someone, well, other then a nord, but he managed. "Excuse me" He said to a walking down the street "Do you happen to know of a place called Akavir?". The nord nodded and turned to face the Wood elf "You looking for passage? Well to bad. I don't sail there anymore. Not sense I lost...", "Lost what?" "Lost none of your business, Elf."Are you sure?" Talas exclaimed as he proffered a large pouch of coins. "...How much is in that bag", "450 Septims". The Nord man nords and says "Alright fine, I'll take you to Akavir, we leave in the morning". The next morning Talas stepped on to the ship and immediatly felt unsteady. "Hahaha you just need to get your sea legs!" Exclaimed the nord man whose name is Thronor Cracked-Hull. "I guess not but I will get them soon, wont I?", "Yes you will, soon enough. Now then are you ready to go?", "Yes", "Alright then cast off for Akavir!"
Skooma kills.
**Out of Character**
Ign: Ro_Stronghammer
Age: 16
How did you find us?: I have been on the akavir role-play server before but it was a while ago so I wanted to come back
What role-play experience do you have?: I have played a few role-play based DnD games, I usually make my TES characters role-play based (Ex: A ranger that would only be able to use hide armor, steel swords and an imperial bow). Also I have written a few short stories so maybe that counts for something?
Metagaming in my own words: Abusing other things like phone, Skype or out of game chat to give yourself an advantage by knowing what is happening in other places and being able to stage things out like a surprise attack OOC.
Powergaming in my own words: I think powergaming is forcing actions of other players or npcs with out the other player having a fair chance. Ex: Talas tackles and stabs the attacker". It should be "Talas ATTEMPTS to tackle and stab the attacker"
Godgaming in my own words: Doing things in character that are physically impossible as a character. Things like lets say you are having an RP fight and you're about to be stabbed and killed. It just so happens that you like this character so you leave your computer and go do something else. This leaves your character to live another day and your opponent ed off. This is not ok.
**In Character**
Name: Talas (Pronounced Tay-lus)
Age: 33
Gender: Male
Race: Bosmer (Wood elf)
Appearance: 5'5. Brown hair. Wears furs and favors the bow and daggers, even though I'm more of a sword man myself. Taylus has a longer pointed face, darker skin and one silver ring on his right hand. He has black downwardly slanted eyes but usually has them closed, as a monk would.
Personality: Talas is a very nice wood elf. He is not a big fan of killing others but he will if he is threatened. Talas is not very easily angered and keeps a warm smile most of the time. Talas is very skilled in the art of speech and often uses bribery as a form of getting others to do as he needs. As a wood elf he is very attuned with nature and follows the green pact, even outside of the forests of Valenwood. The reason he does not like killing others is that the green pact requires that he devours the corpse of the every person he has killed in (At most) three days. He is strictly carnivorous and will not harm flora of any kind. His crafts include monster hunting and bone weapon making as well as being skilled with a forge.
In-game RP example:
Scene: Talas is walking down a old abandoned road when two Argonian thieves approach him, demanding his gold and other precious items.
Argonian thief 1:"What brings you to Skyrim Elf? Here to make some coin?"
Argonian thief 2:"Because thats what we are here to do. Now hand over your coin and valuables" -Draws two daggers-
Talas: "Now now gentlemen I'm sure that we can come to some sort of agreement hmm?" -Talas puts his hands in his pockets
Argonian thief 1: "Heh, I notice you have got a nice ring there, how about you hand that over, and we will leave your limbs attached" -pulls out a mace from its holster-
Talas: "I would rather not give up my ring, its from wife you see." -Talas smiles but has a look of sadness in his eyes-
Argonian thief 2: "You think that matters to us? All we want is some decent coin!"
Argonian thief 1: "I'm done talking! You hand over the ring or die!"
Talas: -Talas simply keeps his hands in his pockets and smiles-
Argonian theif 2: "Graaah!" -He leaps at talas with his two daggers going for his neck-
Talas: -Ducks and elbows the argonian in the stomach but the Argonian gets a good cut on his side from one of the daggers-
Argonian thief 1: -Runs at him and attempts to tackle him-
Talas: -attempts to dodge but fails-
Talas: -Falls over from the force of the argonian but attempts to break his attackers grip-
Talas: Fine. -Pulls out two bone daggers- "I'm going to regret this more then you are." -mutters "I hate the taste of argonian"-
Argonian theif 1&2: -Both charge from each side and attack rapidly-
Talas: -Extends his arms with the daggers and impales both in the chest, one hitting a lung and the other, the heart-
Agronian thief 1&2: -Fall to the ground, dead.-
Talas: -Smiles sadly and drags them off into the forest to have his meal of the two Argonians-
Background: Talas grew up as any normal wood elf child would. Learning the ways of hunting and learning to love and protect nature. At the age of 26 Talas grew tired of the same old thing, going out, hunting for the day, returning to his lovely wife and going to sleep. Being restless, Talas walked outside, gazed at the large forms of Masser and Secunda and whispered to himself "I wish something exciting would happen around here. Everyday its the same thing and I just cannot do it anymore." Talas went to sleep and the next few weeks were the same, nothing changed...Until the 22nd of Frostfall. A boy, no more then 13 ran around the small settlement of migratory trees to wake up the warrior Bosmer. He shouted "Everyone get up! Kajiit have been spotted a few leagues east felling the tallest of our trees! Immediately he burst from his bed, grabbed his bow off the wall and his wife followed after. They met up with the a group of 10 other Bosmer and ran through the trees, rushing to save the things most important to them. Then he heard it. The sickening sound of a tree collapsing to the mossy floor of the forest. In rage he rushed ahead of all the others and started firing arrows at the first thing he saw. These were the kajiit but they had archers as well. The kajiits well outnumbered the small group but they did not know Valenwood like Talas and the others did. After dispatching a group of 8 with a well placed volly, he heard a scream of a woman. Not a scratchy kajiit scream but...the scream of his wife. "No, no. NO!" He though with worry. Rushing through the forest, he found her. Dead. He started to weep as he held her in his arms. He said goodbye one last time, took the ring he had given to her from her hand and got up. The battle continued, but Talas did not join. After the battle, for Talas, no drinks were drunk, no meat was eaten. Talas cursed himself for being so stupid, "If only I hadn't made that damned wish! Then...Then she would still be here." Sad and broken Talas decided to leave for farther lands, in search of a better life. A few years passed and he had arrived in hammerfell. Of course he did not take a direct path there, he had gone to Cyrodil first and made gold as a huntsman and bone-weapon maker. Talas had made enough gold to pack up and leave for other lands, and his feet carried him to Hammerfell. Here Talas met a man that went by the name of Sader. Sader was an old healer, a priest of arkay. Apparenly in his prime, he was a hunter. Not the type of hunter that Talas is no, a monster hunter. Over the next few years Talas would learn from Sader, the way of peace of a priest and deadliness of a monster hunter. After 3 more years Sader died of old age. Now a changed man Talas made his way east in search of new adventure, to make a life for himself and to leave everything that he held dear, and hated, behind forever. When Talas arrived back in Cyrodil he decided to continue like he did before, crafting weapons and hunting, except now he was not just hunting game. He had done quite a few jobs and was resting in an inn. "Would you like any more nordic ale?" said a tall, blond nordic bartender. "No, no I have had quite enough" said Talas, feeling slightly light headed, "I would like a room for the night however" said Talas as he set ten gold septims on the counter. "Certainly" She said "You room is down the hall, third door on your right". Talas stumbled through the hallway and eventually reached his room, and as he was about to open the door he heard a few men talking. "Yes I heard there were snake people!", "Your kidding.", "I would not kid about something like this. They call it Akavir!". Talas shrugged it off and went to sit on his bed. He stared out the window at Nirns two moons while fidgeting with his wives ring. He let out a long sigh and said "Akavir....". The next day he bid no one goodbye, as he had become close to none, other then Sader, sense he had left Valenwood. He strapped on his bow, grabbed his bag and started to walk. He walked far and he walked long and eventually he reached the town of Dawnstar in Skryim. The Nords had not been the most welcoming of someone, well, other then a nord, but he managed. "Excuse me" He said to a walking down the street "Do you happen to know of a place called Akavir?". The nord nodded and turned to face the Wood elf "You looking for passage? Well to bad. I don't sail there anymore. Not sense I lost...", "Lost what?" "Lost none of your business, Elf."Are you sure?" Talas exclaimed as he proffered a large pouch of coins. "...How much is in that bag", "450 Septims". The Nord man nords and says "Alright fine, I'll take you to Akavir, we leave in the morning". The next morning Talas stepped on to the ship and immediatly felt unsteady. "Hahaha you just need to get your sea legs!" Exclaimed the nord man whose name is Thronor Cracked-Hull. "I guess not but I will get them soon, wont I?", "Yes you will, soon enough. Now then are you ready to go?", "Yes", "Alright then cast off for Akavir!"
Skooma kills.
IGN: william3677
Age: 15
How did you find us? Well, I was looking for some minecraft RP servers when I came across your trailer on youtube. I've always loved The Elder Scrolls universe and minecraft, and thought that the two together would be amazing.
What Roleplay experience do you have? I also play on Uthrandir Universe, I have also played on Lord of the Craft and Mythic Ages.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Using OOC information in RP that your character wouldn't know.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Power-gaming is when your way over powerful, say your a regular citizen, you can't just suddenly go blow up the world hurling fireballs. Your character wouldn't know how to use magic, let alone have enough magicka/mana etc to cast that much of it.
Define God-Modding in your words: God-Modding is essentially being a god in roleplay, such as you run into a burning house and pull someone's character out. You should do 'I attempt to pull them out' rather than, 'I pull them out' as that would be something they did not consent to or be carried by your character out of a burning building. Who knows, maybe they even wanted to kill off their character and that's how they wanted to go about it.
**In Character**
Name: Aura Nightheart
Nickname: (Optional) None.
Age: 87 (Quite young for an elf.)
Gender: Male
Race: Bosmer
Appearance: A blue/brown cloak...also, green eyes. He wears these colors, as it's pretty much all he could find...
Personality: Shy, arrogant, and annoying most of the time if you manage to befriend him.
In-game RP example: (Include dialog)
Aura Nightheart says: "W-Who arre y-you...?"
Aura Nightheart stays a distance from the stranger, moving a hand to the shortsword on his belt.
Alanir gestures to Aura's small pouch of coins, "You don't need to know that information...give me the coins and I may let you live."
Aura slides the sword out of the sheathe a bit, before turning and running into the undergrowth, hoping to hide.
Alanir follows Aura, easily outpacing him, he blocks Aura's path, "I said. Give me the coins."
Aura helplessly, threw the pouch of coins at Alanir, and while he leans down to pick it up, leaps on him.
Alanir, surprisingly throws back his hood, he's a small orc child.
Aura leaps to the side, and bundles off into the forest murmuring about "Orc children..." And "Foul creatures..." hoping, that the orc doesn't follow him.
Background: (Be detailed and in-depth. Also explain how you came to be in Akavir.)
Aura has an odd name, and hides from large communities. He is shy and oddly, annoying. He thinks his name "Nightheart" disgraces him from his kind, though he one day hopes to learn restoration and destruction magicks, and perhaps become a mage.
He has never been good around people, has odd dreams, and sometimes talks to himself. When he talks to others he doesn't know, or is scared of them, he stutters a lot. His main defense is a shortsword, fashioned of steel. He has never really
told anyone about his dreams, only that they are of strange far off lands, that he hopes never to venture too. He also dreams of Akavir, and has nightmares, and thinks constantly the words, "What if" in bad situations.
Aura was born in the lands of Tamriel, and used to have one friend, Kiara, who he liked...until his father sold him as a slave to Dunmer, and they took him across the seas to Akavir. His father was cruel, odd for an elf. In the lands of Akavir,
Now just being over 13, he worked hard, sometimes overly hard and fell unconscious. Then when he awoke, the slavers beat him. Until one day, he mustered the courage, and while in the fields, ran. He ran with all his might, having no sense of direction,
nor really wanting one. He just wanted freedom and liberty. He had stolen a shortsword of steel and a blue cloak on the way out, and has always seemed to be slightly smaller than other elves. His green eyes will pale and darken, sometimes showing
obvious concern, pain, or anger. He lived in a forest, near a stream, in a small house, curled up under a bush...so, not exactly a house. After a while, he found his way back into the community, often staying in the shadows and the sides of roads
though. He one day hopes to go back to Tamriel, but after the Infernal Age, doesn't think he ever will. And thus, this is where we leave AUra now...wondering what his path in Akavir will be.
You idiot! Why'd you do that!? You just ate Skooma! Oh you're such a massive idiot! Now you're going to die, Skooma kills! Sigh...you don't understand do you? STOP eating it. Now. I said stop . . .Yeah, you're an idiot. You won't stop...Skooma kills!
Didn't you hear me the first time? Sigh...I give up on you. *Walks away non-chalantly from wherever the heck he was.*
IGN: coolman166
Age:14, will be 15 Nov 6, 2013
What RolePlay experience do you have, other than Akavir?:I played on multiple RP servers.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Applying OOC acquired information whilst IC.
Define Power-gaming in your words:Forcing actions upon another player without giving him a chance to react or fight back.
Define God-Modding in your words:Doing something inhuman or impossible. I.E Lifting a tree straight out of the ground.
IC:
Name: Jurien
Nickname: N/A
Age:34
Gender: Male
Race: Nord
Appearance: Jurien wears a brown overcoat ontop of a tan-gray undershirt. On his shoulders lay pads that protect him from minor wounds, which also assist him in holding heavy objects on his shoulders. He stands about 6'5 up tall. He has shaggy red hair, and a completely magnificent beard.
Personality: Jurien is quiet most of the time. When he does talk, it's sometimes useful, sometimes something stupid. His stands tall most of the time to keep himself looking like the bigger man.
Example of in-game RP conflict between two characters:
Jurien: /me draws his steel sword from his belt
Bandit: /me draws his iron dagger from his sheathe
Jurien: /me stabs forward, aiming at the Bandit's left arm.
Bandit: /me gets hit, and steps back, holding his left arm in agony.
Jurien: /me advances forward, kicking at the head of the Bandit
Bandit: /me gets kicked in the head, forcing him onto the ground.
Jurien: /me swings downwards on the Bandit's neck, hoping to decapitate him.
Bandit: /me is defenseless and is decapitated.
Background: Jurien was born in Skyrim, the hold of Whiterun in Rorikstead.. His mother's name was Gustafa and his father's name was Hock. Gustafa was an intelligent woman with black, flowing hair and gray eyes, like Jurien's. She was often in the kitchen, preparing the most delightful meals the family ever tasted! It went from pastas to meats that Hock hunted. Hock was a hunter. He was the one who showed Jurien everything he knows about hunting. From elks to bears, Jurien can kill one. Hock was a large man, broad shoulders and red hair, like Jurien's. Jurien was just a young lad when his father gave him a bow and a dagger. Hock said, "Son, if you ever want to make it anywhere in this world, you have to be good at something. I am giving you the option of hunting." They went off to hunt together, Hock finding things to hunt and having Jurien shoot them dead. Jurien describes the best days of his life hunting with his father. Many years passed, and Jurien was 15. His life had been pretty uneventful, as you imagined. He woke up in the morning, put on his boots, got his bow and dagger (which had been upgraded as he got older), and set out to hunt. Each and every morning. One morning, it was different. He waited to wake up, and when he did, his father was waiting for him.
"Why are you not out hunting, son?" Hock said, not angrily, but curious. Jurien replied, "I want to see the world, father. Visit Windhelm, Whiterun, and maybe even Markarth!" His father sighed, knowing this day was going to come eventually. "Come with me," Hock said, turning around and unlocking the basement door. Jurien was never allowed in the basement. "The world is a tough place, Jurien. You know that by now. Catch!" Hock threw a sword at Jurien, which Jurien caught, due to his reflexes from all the years he hunted. "I'm going to teach you to fight. You are going to need the skills out in the world." And so Hock, like before, taught his son another skill. Jurien was soon proficient in the blade as he was in archery. Mind you, this took months for him to perfect. Hock went to the town stables, and got his horse, handing the reins to Jurien. "You will need him. His name is Murdey."((Mur-day))"He was once mine, though I do have another." Hock indicates to a white horse. "Murdey knows Skyrim like no other horse I have ever ridden upon. He will take you anywhere in the fastest time he can." Jurien said, "Thank you, father, for all you have given me, and now I must pay you back in kind." He drew a blade from his side, the steel glimmering in the sunshine. He hands it to Hock, who inspects it carefully. "You tempered this yourself? It looks as if it was made by a professional." Jurien shrugs his shoulders, indicating it was no big deal for him. "This is why you wanted to leave.. to become a smith." Jurien makes a simple 'Mmhm' sound. "You could have just asked. I'm no smith, but I know a few tricks." Jurien digs in his pocket, "Have a look at this." He hands Hock a letter. It reads:
Dear Jurien, it has come to my attention that you want to be a smith! Laggerd told me that, if you are not sure how I knew. If you want to learn my trade, come to Whiterun. I run a smith that used to be run by my aunt. I can teach you everything I know.
-A friend from Whiterun
"If this is how you want it." Hock says, "Then go ahead. Just make sure you visit!" Jurien hugs his father, and rides away on his horse. He learned the trade of being a smith from the friend in Whiterun. After he learned to be a smith, disaster struck. He fled with the rest of Whiterun, to Akavir.
During his time in Akavir he had quite an experience. Becoming involved with the Tuktura Ugakta hardened the man into a warrior. He worked with Ka'zaad and Kargar, until the latter died. Ka'zaad and Jurien were the last surviving members of the Tuktura( OOC: Unless you want to count those who were afk 5ever). Ka'zaad one day came to Jurien and said, "I have your share, Jurien."
"My share?"
"Aye. Come with me"
Ka'zaad led Jurien to a room with two chests. They were equally full of gold. Jurien smiled, and patted one of the chests.
"It's yours. Do with it what you want."
And he did. Jurien set sail on a barge back to Skyrim, his homeland to visit his family. He said hello to his father and his mother, and went off and purchased a farm. He immediately learned he did not know how to properly farm. He spent about two years milling about on his farm, without actually farming. He just wandered about, reading books and poetry. It was after those two years that he started thinking about Akavir again. The idea only sparked in his mind because of the lack of Akavir trade ships. When Akavir trade ships starting coming and going again, he did exactly what any rationally thinking man would do.
He burnt down his farm and left on the next ship to Akavir. He spent weeks on the ship, eagerly awaiting to get to Akavir.
How your character survived Akavir: Jurien was in Skyrim at the time of the start of the Infernal Age, so he had nothing to worry about. Jurien had planned to leave weeks before the floods in Valguard, and he had. His ship and his gold has left with him to go back to Skyrim weeks before the flooding. The entire time on his ship, nobody knew about what was happening in Akavir. The only thing the crewmates knew was that Valguard was under new rule by a Redguard. Jurien would just chuckle when he heard people talking about that. He'd frown, however, when they talked about the death of the Orsimer that was King. He knew King Kargar Gro'Valguard was assassinated by the Imperials.
Jurien stepped off the ship, onto the docks of Solitude. His first decision was to purchase a farm. His second decision was to never, ever try to farm again, seeing as he was awful at it. He had a farmhouse, books, poetry, and food. Not much else was required for him. Jurien was a simple man. He spent two years in Skyrim. What got him wondering about Akavir again was the fact that trade ships stopped arriving in Skyrim. He waited for news of ships to arrive once more, and paid for passage from Skyrim to Akavir.
How your character survived Akavir: Jurien was in Skyrim at the time of the start of the Infernal Age, so he had nothing to worry about. Jurien had planned to leave weeks before the floods in Valguard, and he had. His ship and his gold has left with him to go back to Skyrim weeks before the flooding. The entire time on his ship, nobody knew about what was happening in Akavir. The only thing the crewmates knew was that Valguard was under new rule by a Redguard. Jurien would just chuckle when he heard people talking about that. He'd frown, however, when they talked about the death of the Orsimer that was King. He knew King Kargar Gro'Valguard was assassinated by the Imperials.
Jurien stepped off the ship, onto the docks of Solitude. His first decision was to purchase a farm. His second decision was to never, ever try to farm again, seeing as he was awful at it. He had a farmhouse, books, poetry, and food. Not much else was required for him. Jurien was a simple man. He spent two years in Skyrim. What got him wondering about Akavir again was the fact that trade ships stopped arriving in Skyrim. He waited for news of ships to arrive once more, and paid for passage from Skyrim to Akavir.
The poor fools who take skooma do not know that it usually ends in their demise.
IGN:
Wulfe_Lightfoot
Age:
19
How did you find us?
I've been around since the last days of SOOF.
What Roleplay experience do you have?
I've played on SOOF and Akavir, and I've done some minor forum RP on other sites.
Define Meta-gaming in your words:
Using information that you know but your character doesn't to your advantage. For example, if you know who someone's character is from the players talking, and you act like you're character knows them. Or if you hear that someone is at a certain place OOC and "happen" to end up there yourself.
Define Power-gaming in your words:
Acting as if you are far stronger or talented than you should be, like killing 4 people with one punch or saying you dodge every attack someone tries on you. Also, making statements like [*Char punches you in the face, sending you flying.] instead of [*Char tries to punch you in the face as hard as they can.] You have to let them decide what happens to their character.
Define God-Modding in your words:
Similar to Powergaming, Godmoding means making your character much more pwerful than they should be. Whether they are an unbeatable fighter, have a cloak that makes them immortal, and have created a spell that makes them omnisecient, godmoding makes it annoying and impossible to do nything against these kinds of characters.
Name: Vantus Delian
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Race: Imperial
Appearance: Blond hair, build like a skirmisher, fairly average looks
Personality: Power seeking, opportunistic, charismatic, egotistic
Place of Birth: Shor's Stone, The Rift, Skyrim (4th of First Seed)
Sign: The Lord
Background: Vantus was always the type to find simple ways of getting what he wanted, so his joining a group of bandits preying on travelers through Falkreath Hold wasn't surprising. Camping at Knifepoint Ridge, their group did well enough, but couldn't expand very far before getting into conflict with other bandit factions. In addition, Vantus never got higher than a mid-level position in the hierarchy, despite his ambitions of running the whole group. As the Great War raged on and the camp began to lost ground both to other bandits and to what guards were free to deal with such problems, Vantus decided to cut his losses and move on, taking a good chunk of the camp's loot with him. He wandered for a while, living mostly off his ill-gotten gains, and traveled into Cryodiil, away from his bounty posters.
Then he heard about Akavir.
A land opening to Tamriel for the second time in recent history. Recently subject to some sort of mysterious disaster. More and more people moving there by the day. And most importantly, only a token bandit population.
This was Vantus's chance to take control. He would go to Akavir, take command of whatever small time thugs were operating there already, and raise his forces until they were powerful enough to have control of their own piece of this new world. First a camp or ruin; then, who knows? Maybe a town. Maybe a region. Maybe the whole country.
Vantus smiled, taking in the view of the landscape, noting the ruins of some sort of city, flanked by a statue of Talos on on side and a bridge on the other.
This is mine now. He thought, surveying the horizon. All of it.
And the Divines help anyone who thinks otherwise.
IGN: dedoralive
Age: 16
How did you find us? Tiff told me about this server.
What Roleplay experience do you have? I would say I am rather experienced, I have been rping for about 3 years, I have been on three servers, God of Kings, Daemons rp server, and The Anerian Chronicles.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Metagaming is using OOC information IC, or
Define Power-gaming in your words: Forcing an action without giving the person you are acting upon a chance to respond or react. Ex: *Charlie swings his mighty sword of godmodeness and kills johnny in one big hit*
Define God-Modding in your words: Making your character impervious or invincible to other characters attacks, having unfair advantages, similar to powergaming in a way.gr
**In Character**
Name: Matthew Valdis
Nickname: “Digger”
Age: 20
Gender:Male
Race: Nord
Appearance: Pale skin, short brown messy hair, pale grey eyes, old ragged clothes, a few dirt stains, around 5’11 ft tall, his arms are decently muscular, his build is pretty lean.
Personality: All his life Matthew has preferred spending his time around graves than people, so in social situations her would prefer to avoid talking as much as possible. Most people would consider him shy, he is very humble, after all he doesn’t have much to brag about anyways.
In-game RP example: (Include dialog):
Matthew looks down at the poor lifeless body that was dropped in front of his home, he inspects the neck, checking for any bites, good. None. Matthew the proceeds to hoist the body up, and walks inside. With one hand he grabs ahold of his fathers shovel, and he heads out to the large gloomy field. Fog hung over the recently disturbed grass, he found an unmarked grave and set the body down beside it. He swings his shovel up onto his shoulder and sits down in front of the unmarked grave and the body.
“What did you in huh?” He looks the body over once more from his seated position, noting the bruises along the nords arms, he also determines by the facial structure that this being was indeed male. He also notes the stab wounds through the corpses thin shirt.
“Had a bit of a fight did you..? No matter, I’ll let you rest peacefully in a bit.. I don’t suppose your attackers left anything for me to figure out who you were..” Matthew sighs softly and leans forward, setting his shovel down and checking quickly for any documents or anything of the like, finding none he stands and picks his shovel up, starting to dig in accordance to the dead nord’s height. After digging for some time Matthew climbs out of the hole, he picks the body up and sets the corpse into the grave gently.
“That should about do it” Matthew wipes his hands brushing some dirt off, glancing at the armored man passing by the field.
Man: “Evening Diggah! Got another one did ya?” The man says with a slight wave and a light chuckle.
Matthew: Matthew nods slowly and turns around to begin shoveling more dirt on top of the grave.
Man: The man sighs and continues on his way, muttering things about diggers and their behavior.
Background: (Be detailed and in-depth. Also explain how you came to be in Akavir.)
As long as Matthew could remember, all of his time was spent in a graveyard, whether it was helping his father dig, or just walking along the path and reading each tombstone. Matthew would even sleep out in the graveyard sometimes, he found it comforting to sleep near his mother’s resting place. At just seven years old Matthew’s mother died, he was by her side while she was on her deathbed, and he would hold onto her hand just to let her know he was there.
After her death Matthew spent his time out by her grave, he grew accustom to the graveyard. And at one point he even started talking to the graves, as if the corpses would respond to him. But he didn’t care that they couldn’t respond, after all he liked quiet more than anything. His actions concerned his father a bit, but he blew it off as him just coping with his mother's passing.
The years before his mothers death were short, most of his time was spent with her, as he was too young to venture out and help his father. In his life, Matthew has only loved two living humans, his mother and father. He never liked talking to anyone, and he was labeled the creepy kid in schools because of his families relation to death and the graveyard. But Matthew didn’t mind, he liked it when people left him alone.
Everyday after school, Matthew would come home and walk out to the graveyard, and if any new bodies arrived at the home to be buried, he would help his father dig and prepare the graves. Despite living in front of a graveyard, the family only had one shovel, as was the tradition. Matthew got to use to shovel a few times when helping his father, before getting it was a gift of course.
On his 18th birthday, like every grave digger before him, the family shovel was given to him, and he was to take up the responsibilities of handling the graveyard. For the first few weeks his father stayed around and helped him, then he randomly disappeared, for a while Matthew thought nothing of it and continued his daily routine. Check for bodies, check bodies for bites, prepare graves if bodies were clean, and talk to them right before putting them to eternal rest.
But after some time, Matthew decided to look around his small house a bit, after all most of his time was spent outside of it, he barely knew his way around. He found a small map in his fathers room, it was rolled up along with a knife next to it on his father’s bed. The map was labeled “Akavir”, and led to a port supposedly leading to this “Akavir”. Assuming his father intended him to follow, Matthew packed up his things, grabbed the knife, his fathers shovel, and the map he was given, and followed the trail to the port.
IGN: Disconected20
Age:15
How did you find us? Youtube
What Roleplay experience do you have? Fallout, HollowWorld, Skyrim.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: It is when you use out of character information into roleplay.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Being overpowered in roleplay, and not giving other players any chance of fighting you.
Define God-Modding in your words: Roleplaying as if you are a god, and can kill anything or anyone with one touch.
**In Character**
Name: Jikir Hussan
Nickname: Jhik
Age: 40's
Gender: Male
Race: Ka Po' Tun
Appearance: Jikir has black and white fur and eyes as dark as the night sky. He wears a grey robe, and has a round hat. Wields a wooden staff with two stripes, one green and one red, this symbolises justice and his violence. He wears leather slippers which do not cover his feet. And he has a very "happy" smile.
Personality: A fearsome warrior, who is not easily tempered and is calm and civilised.
In-game RP example: Jikir : *He walks along the path way, every step he takes, his staff follows.*
*Suddenly he hears someone in the bushes, and turns. He tries to take a closer look under his big hat of
his, and realises it was just the wind.*
Bandit: Hey you! *The bandit shouted at him, while holding a long blade in his left hand*
Jikir: *He stood still, and turned very slowly not saying a word*
Bandit: Hey I'm talking to you! *The bandit raises his blade and points it at his direction*
Jikir: *Fiercely, he sprints towards the bandit and maneuvers around the bandit.*
Bandit: *Bandit swings his sword at the man and cuts his right arm*
Jikir: *Growls, and hits his left foot with his staff.*
Bandit: *Falls down onto the floor, and sword falls off hands*
Jikir: *Growls fiercely at the bandit and puts his staff on his chest and leans on it.* Why do you do this?
Bandit: Why do I do what? *Breathing quickly while reaching for his blade*
Jikir: Why do you attack innocent people?
Bandit: *Reaches blade then grabs it and swings it at the man*
Jikir: *Quickly moves back and goes into a stance while pointing his staff at the bandit*
Bandit: *As the bandit gets up he Is breathing very fast and looks very nervous* Who are you!?
Jikir: I am just a man passing by *He moves left in a circular form*
Bandit: *Continues right like the man*
Jikir: Hmm, a stand off I see, let us see who shall come out of this bloody mess alive. *Bashes his staff on the
bandits head, and then quickly does an uppercut with his fist.*
Bandit: *Receives the hits and is now back on the floor bleeding from his nose*
Jikir: I will not kill you, but if I find that you are continuing this act, I will hunt you down, and slaughter your loved
ones.
Bandit: *He gets the message but passes out after*
Jikir: *Leaves the scene without a stain on his cloths*
Background: Jhik (Jikir) was a very non heroic character. One that does not even know how to wield a sword, that is what he is. A weakling. But one day he stepped out of his shell and became a true warrior, a fighter. Wielding a staff and a sword, he could now take down foes and any threat to him. This only happened because of one tiny incident, so this is the story of how Jhik, a shy little boy, became what he is today. He was born somewhat during the Great War, mother wanted him to be called Jhik, but the father wanted him to be called Jikir. So Jikir became his official name and Jhik, his nickname. Time passed, he came at the age where he was supposed to learn how to fight, but he was afraid, afraid of a little cut, afraid of him hurting himself but most of all, afraid of him killing himself. So he begged to not learn to fight or kill and his parents couldn't say no, of course he was very persuasive. On the day of the incident, Jhik was accompanying a friendly trader. He walked beside the trader as both of them hold one end of a cart, the cart held nothing much really, just a few scraps and pots, but bandits came anyway. There were 3, one with a bow,one with a knife and one with a stick. Sadly, the archer of the bandit group shot the trader twice, once in the knee and then on the head. Jhik was devastated and in tears at that point, so the bandits took pity on him, and let him live. But he didn't run, while they were looting the cart, he pounced onto a bandit, smacked him around on the head until he bled, and took his stick to finish him off. The other two were quite hard, because they wielded powerful weapons. But the archer who shot at Jhik and missed, took a while to take another arrow out and so he was bashed to death on the head. The third bandit was afraid for his life, hands shaking, eyes twitching. The bandit was afraid of course, but as he looked into his fearsome eyes and begged for mercy, Jhik was picking up the dead bandits bow and arrow, unfamiliar at the point, he grabbed an arrow and put it firmly on the bow, he pulled it back just slightly with confusion and shot it out onto the bandits arm. The bandit cried and begged some more, and at the end he did let him go. After the incident, he went home, with blood splattered all over his cloths, fur and face. His mom was shocked and almost fainted, but his father was so proud. But Jhik wasn't happy with this, he killed two men, but he had to except the fact that he was born a fighter. And so the years past, he trained and fought, saved countless people from bandits, especially traders.
IGN: indyracoon
Age: 12
How did you find us? MC Forums
What Roleplay experience do you have? WoW, LotRO, DDO, various Minecraft servers, Dragon's Prophet, and some other games
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Meta-gaming is making your character know something in the future through an OOC source, and the knowledge being something your character probably would have never found out without the OOC source.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Power-gaming is making yourself too powerful through RP, such as killing 723 men, 293 horses, and a chicken with 1 punch.
Define God-Modding in your words: Godmodding is similar to power-gaming; it's making yourself overpowered in loads of things, such as dodging everything, flying because of 'magical powers', etc
**In Character**
Name: Aegther Fox Racoon (pronounced ahg-thur fox rakoon)
Nickname: (Optional)
Age: 19
Gender: M
Race: Nord
Appearance: Dark green eyes, average height, black hair, light skin. He wears a green hooded cloak, grey face scarf, a short tunic, a leather vest, a black belt, a quiver, leather arm bracers, leather pants, black boots, and fingerless gloves.
Personality: Aegther likes to explore and be anonymous. He can be friendly depending on the circumstances.
In-game RP example: (Include dialog)
A = Aegther
R = Argonian
K = Kahjit
A walks around the streets of the large castle.
R comes up to A.
R "Excuse me, sir, but are you intrested in my… my… um…"
A "Your what?"
K comes around and pickpockets A
R "My potion, it's a… Potion of speed."
A "How much is it?"
A looks for his money.
K watches
R "Well, it's quite expensive- it's--"
A "Well, it seems a pickpocket was here."
R "You see, I had made a deal, it wasn't my fault!"
K comes out.
K "No, it wasn't."
A looks at K
A "You thief!"
K "Well, it wasn't mine either-- you must let me explain!"
A "Explain yourself."
R walks off.
K "Well, I.. I… Alright, it was me! Take your money!"
K throws the money behind A.
Background: (Be detailed and in-depth. Also explain how you came to be in Akavir.)
Most of what Aegther can remember about his childhood was spending it in Skyrim. He liked it there, too. The town that he grew up in, was no other, than Riverwood. He always remembered waking up to the sound of the river, flowing and hitting rocks. No trouble normally occurred, and the guards would always break up any fight or keep away any danger. He lived like this until he was 12.
When Aegther was 12, he moved to Whiterun, the city that his father grew up in. Shortly after, his mother caught a disease and died. 2 years later, when Aegther turned 14, his father joined the military. He was in the military for a year before being wounded in battle and having to resign from his occupation. Then came Aegther's lust to explore, when he was 15. He wanted to visit Cyrodil and Marrowind, Hammerfell, and so on. But he really wanted to visit Cyrodil. His father would always say, "We don't have enough for the trip," or "I'm still recovering". When Aegther turned 17, he went out on his own to visit the imperial city Solitude. Then he decided to finally visit Cyrodil.
During his trip to Cyrodil, he encountered a Dark Elf. The Dark Elf said that he was running a transportation business, so Aegther paid him and got in. Aegther told him to travel to the Imperial City. He went up east, saying he'd take a shortcut. Aegther, not really liking Geography nor History, only knew that Cyrodil was down south of Skyrim. Aegther just trusted him and went along. He later found himself in a weird place with gigantic fungi and weird plants. They stopped outside of a small town. He asked where he was and why they stopped and the driver replied, "bandits."
Then he saw them, approaching the carriage with their weapons drawn. They had green cloaks which seemed to act as a symbol of something to each other (perhaps a group they formed that wears green cloaks). The driver took out a bow and shot one of them, just before taking a full impale from a sword. Aegther took the cloak and mask that the dead bandit was wearing and ran off. For some reason, though, the carriage driver had taken him to Marrowind (yes, the carriage driver somehow managed to mistake Cyrodil as in the position of Marrowind.). Being near a small town near a river with a port, he ran to one of the galleons, asking permission to board. "You don't even know where we're headed," was replied. "Take me anywhere, just let me board!". And so Aegther paid and got on. It set sail the day-after. When Aegther went above deck, it seemed those green-cloaked people were looking around. On the trip, he had made a friend, "Era'kiio" (pronounced Era-keoh), who trained Aegther how to use a sword and bow. And this trip was to an island very far away, Akavir.
Age: 13
How did you find us? Through Youtube, I've Been Searching For Elder Scrolls Servers
What Roleplay experience do you have? I've Played Many RP Servers that Are Medevil
Define Meta-gaming in your words: My Strategy
Define Power-gaming in your words: Maximising Progress
Define God-Modding in your words: Describing Outcome Before It Happens
Name: Sinir
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Race: Khajiit
Appearance: Looks Strong, Is Medium Height, And Blue Eyes.
Personality: Wishes to Be A Bounty Hunter And He Has A Short Temper.
In-game RP example: Where IS HE!!! Tell Me NOW! Where Is That Scum Of A Leader, That Leads The Dark Brotherhood????!!!! Tell Me Now You Assassin Before I Decide To Kill You! I Will not Hesitate To Slit Your Throat, You Killed My Brother!!! I Swear To Talos I WILL KILL YOU!!! Assassin: Fine, Kill Me I Keep My Mouth Shut. "Snap" The Assassin Is Dead I Will Kill Them All..... Some Day.
Background: I Came from Daggerfall Seeking Revenge On The Ones Who Killed My Brother, And I Heard Rumor That The Dark Brotherhood From Daggerfall Went to Akaviri So I've Followed Their Trail Ever Since Seeking Blood.
IGN:hothhorn
Age:16
How did you find us?: Veterain, I've played on these community servers before.
What Roleplay experience do you have?: Fallout: sins of our fathers Elder scrolls Akavir. I also have been a part of serious roleplay in GMOD serious HL2 role play (even though many of the people who play that are GREEN beyond belief)
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Using outside information such as the ooc global chat in game to find a player. Or seeing a name tag show through a wall and then you find that character.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Forcing an interaction on to someone with out them being able to act out said action. Like if i where to slap someone by saying "so-and-so slaps that guy in the face". That's not fair RP because you forced the action onto someone.
Define God-Modding in your words: Being able to dodge every attack. Or coming out of a battle unscathed. being "over powered" Basically being immune to anything and everything thrown against you in combat or RP in general.
**In Character**
Name: Shahal Makart
Nickname: Chatter
Age:34
Gender: Male
Race:Dark elf
Appearance:Long white hair, A fair youthful face, For his race he is actually quite handsome, Dark red eyes and light grey skin. He always wears a hood and almost never shows his full face or hair that he holds up in the back partially with a ponytail he wears fabric garbs and he stands at 5'11. Has a decent limber muscle tone. (sorry my skin looks like he isn't wearing his hood I'll edit it if he gets accepted. but to be honest there is ALWAYS complications when I write it the first time)
Personality: Relatively silent, Calm, Talks only when necessary, Observant, Has the serpent for a starsign (Going to get magic approval for invisibility due to starsign this will most likely be voided but still worth the shot.) If someone got to know him they'd realize he is almost as crazy as a Tang' Mo as he has habits of hanging upside down.
In-game RP example:
(Shahal sits in a chair inside of the foul smelling pub and is approached by a Barmaid)
Barmaid: "What can I get you?"
Shahal says with a quiet tone and barely a whisper. "Black Briar"
(The room falls silent and a man with a strong build stands up. a nord)
Man Gives a hearty laugh!
Man: "You heard pointed ears!" he laughs "I like his style!"
Man goes to sit down with the elf
Man: "So what kind of elf are you that can handle a Black briar? Those things will kill you, you know!" he says with the bitter smell of alcohol on his breath.
Shahal says nothing.
Man: "A man of few words I see! oh well then." he sighs
The barmaid returns with the mead and goes to hand it to Shazar
Shahal takes the brew. He then attempts to give the lady the coins
The barmaid accepts them.
Shahal goes to walk out of the pub
*everyone in pub allows him to leave without objection*
Drunken man: "H-hey yo-you there" he stammers "Give me your me-mead."
Shahal says nothing and attempts to continue to walk on
Drunken man: "HE-HEY I'M TALKING TO YOU!" He goes to take a knife out of his pocket
Shahal turns towards the man, seeing the glint of his knife in the moonlight he tenses up his body partially and widens his stance
Drunken man goes for a forward thrust towards the elf
Shahal then goes to pivot on his heel and attempt to dodge as he then goes for the mans arm holding the knife.
the man gets his arm grabbed and he then goes for a swing however he is in a drunken stupor and might miss
Shahal lets the punch go its course towards his arm however he tenses his muscles. he then goes to kick the mans legs out since his upper torso would be facing forward whilst his feet would be planted.
The drunken man gets kicked and falls over he also drops his knife.
Shahal goes to punch him in the head hard enough to knock him out but not hard enough to kill him.
Drunken man now face first in the dirt can't avoid this attack and lets it hit him, his sight goes black.
Shahal goes to walk away from the scene
*no one is around and is successful at walking away*
Background: Shahal was a dark elf who was born in Tamreil inside of the imperial city itself! His parents where famous jewelery tradesmen and they traveled all the seas to trade their goods themselves.At a young age Shahal's parents constantly oversaw the treks to Akavir for their jewelry trade. His parents had to travel to Akavir together during the 6 months travel it was quite uneventful however Shahal's parents went off course and collided into the side of a large Rockey island wall as someone had sabotaged the lighthouse. His parents had an untimely demise however Shahal was safe inside the ships hold. The crew Was killed due to a raid but the invaders never maid it past the hold because a pack of Tang mo where nearby and heard all the commotion and decided to intervene with their martial arts and superior fighting skills. They where too late however as everyone else was dead. They searched the ship for survivors (and loot for trade) And they found Shahal the white haired dark elf (Which is what they described him as).
The Tang Mo originally tried to trade the boy to other people for work however they found that dark elves weren't exactly the best slaves as they where more of a "sneaky" race and people where scared that the elf boy would cut their throats rather then tend their fields. The tang mo then attempted to kill the boy but do to their monk-like behavior they couldn't bring themselves to it. They decided to raise them as their own instead. He then was given a robe with a hood due to the fact of his long white hair. Since this was the only connection to his lineage and how dark elves where quite proud of their hair he was given a hood so that no assailant could grasp it and gain an advantage in battle.The child received a journal which basically told him of his parents and where he was from but he felt only at home with the tang mo as they taught him to survive and thrive, by teaching him marshal arts and how to be quite agile despite the fact that he lacked a tail. His adopted parents however let him teach the orphan Tang Mo. He however was never good at talking and usually taught using gestures never did it much however when he was taught a shanty the tang mo would say it was the voice of the nine itself. the boy finally left the tang mo encampment because his caretakers where assassinated because they accidentally sold the wrong Kajiit fake glass gems. He then realized later that it was an organized assassination because the tang mos where actually a part of the Morag Tong. He soon realized he might be targeted by the assassins who killed his adopted parents and he decided to leave the tribe to avoid any further confrontation. (small side note he was raised in the swamp region as winter region would be unrealistic and the jungle region would be just plain BOOOOOORING)
Skooma defiantly kills.
IGN: karmazero
Age: 16
How did you find us? looking for a good rp server
What Roleplay experience do you have? A lot of diff mc rp servers, i rp a bit in skyrim for kicks when im bored, etc, etc.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Using out of game knowledge in-game such as names, crimes, and such that you're char didnt know about.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Power-gaming is while rp'ing you act as if you are more the most talented person for example "Leorio spun slashing the throat of the three mercenaries all at once"
Define God-Modding in your words: Acting as if your char is undying and unstoppable similar to powergaming.
**In Character**
Name: M'aiq
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Race: Khajit
Appearance: A light brown colored fur, narrow head, with eyes white as snow, he has a medium build, dresses fairly plainly.
Personality: Intelligent, sly, untrusting, but if you get close enough to him he can be a fierce friend. or will he just stab you in the back? >
In-game RP example: (Include dialog) *Silann walks towards the mysterious man slowly* "Someone calls for you...." *the man spits onto the ground ignoring him* "Silann attempts to slip a dagger through the mans chest* *The man reacts such way _______*
Background: (Be detailed and in-depth. Also explain how you came to be in Akavir.) Born in skyrim with the Khajit caravans M'aiq was always a odd child, the way he manipulated others just to cause trouble, he said that he heard voices in his head encouraging him to deceive, most people just said that's because his mom was addicted to skooma when she was pregnant with him, but maybe, just maybe... there was a voice.. or maybe he lied about that too. As M'aiq grew in to a teenager he brought up the voices to his parent but they to put it off as him just being a bit unstable, M'aiq felt as if his parent were ignoring him all together so while they were trading outside of whiterun M'aiq snuck off to find something in one of the farmhouses to steal hoping his parents could selling it and give him attention, but he was caught and was turned over to the guards and locked up into a cell... his parents didnt even notice he was gone and so the caravan moved on to another town and M'aiq was left to rot in a cell the only thing comforting him was that voice, telling him how he could manipulate the guards and get him out, so he followed the instructions and was released within the week. Though M'iaq was free now he had nowhere to go, so he traveled the lands and learned of the daedric princes and of Boethiah, someone like him, deceitful, manipulative, cunning, so he set of in search of a shrine, or anything that could point him towards this wonderous daedra. M'aiq found an shrine and he sat there for weeks, hoping for something.... the voice in his head was silent, and he felt lonely, so he reached out and was answered (or he is just insane).... the voice told him a place where he could prosper, a place away from the cold of skyrim, so M'iaq set off by boat to........ Akavir. (i dont intend for my backstory to add any advantage to my character, he's just cunning thats all, hope you liked it
Skooma Kills