Introduction
The province of Morrowind has always had a strong link to the dead, no other province has been filled with the dead than that of the ash-veiled realm, the eruption of the Red Mountain only further added to this long long list of fallen Dunmer. It is here that rumors of discontent have begun in recent weeks in the city of Necrom, ancient city necropolis of the Dunmer, it is here that the long dead were laid to rest, in reach of anciestial weapons and it is here that that the long dead are said to be rising again, in great number. This rumor of an army of the dead is all but ignored by the powers that be, maybe a few organisations or guilds take an interest, but for the most part it goes unheeded. But what of you? Will you heed the coming darkness of the fallen dead? Will you be drawn to the riches that now lay open, no longer watched over by the spirits of the fallen? Will you save Tamriel, or maybe the whole of Nirn?
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The truth of this is the long dead are rising, not by some simple curse, but by black magic. A lord of the dead has come to Morrowind, a servant of Clavicus Vile Lord of Wishes, this necromancer was given immortal life and the power to chain an unlimited number of dead thralls to his will, in return once all of Nirn has fallen to the legions of the dead it shall enter into Clavicus's realm of Oblivion, making him the strongest of the Princes and able to force all, both mortal and divine to his will.
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Here is a character skeleton that you can use, feel free to edit it as you see fit.
Character Name: The character's name.
Race: Character's race / both races if a half-breed (sperated by a / )
Gender: Character's sexuality.
Age: Character's age.
Birthdate: Character's Date of birth.
Birthsign: The birthsign/standing stone of the character.
Class: Character's class. (Warrior, theif, etc.)
Mother: Mother's name and status (Dead, alive, missing, etc). Also include race.
Father: Same details as mother, but about father.
Other Family: Any other family.
Relationship status: Status of relatioship (Single, taken, married)
Spouse: Spouse's name (if married)
Powers/abilities: The powers and abilities a character holds. (Racial abilities, werewolf transformation, argonian waterbreathing, etc.)
Main Skills: The character's top-five skills and their levels. If you do not want to put the levels, simply list the names of the top five skills or areas of highest ability.
Personality: A brief description of the character's personality.
Friends: Any friends of the character.
Secrets: Any secrets your character holds. These might not be known by any character, but they should be listed for future reference.
Affiliations: Guilds affiliated with. (Dark Brotherhood, Thieves Guild, etc.) Also put relationship status (Working with, fleeing from, etc.)
Titles: And titles the character holds. NO DOVAHKIIN, GUILD LEADERS, OR LISTENERS ALLOWED.
Character image: A image of the character goes in this box. It can be drawn or rendered, either way.
Biography: A brief biography of the character's life. Fit as much in here as you can.
Likes: Things the character likes.
Dislikes: Things the character doesn't like.
- 22 posts here • Page 1 of 1
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 8 authors
She walked towards Narsis to get some breakfast at inn. The morning air was fresh, there was a small wind that made her hair wave. She saw some lesser creatures running further away, but let them be. She wasn't a hunter. Instead of killing them she enjoyed the quiet morning while thinking the rumors she had heard. Rumors about a necromancer in Morrowind. She had lived most of his life in there, travelling around Morrowind, occasionally visiting in Cyrodiil and even in Summerset Isles once, but hadn't seen anything that could be related to that. But all the rumors started from something. So where they had started?
And if there truly was a necromancer, what were they after? A word necromancer, gave Shelrayne chills. They usually didn't bring anything good with them. And if the rumor was true, what should she do? Despite the fact that she could never return her hometown Maar Gan, the land of Morrowind was her home. And she would defend it.
The city was called "Narsis" which is a major trading city within southern regions of Morrowind, on Deshaan plains. Sa'lin was only a hours away from the city walking looking around, and checking to see if there isn't any bandits about. He knew where to go, because he asked some of the traders that was walking along the path of the road that was heading from "Narsis". Those traders was heading out of the city. "Maybe I should get something to eat, or just go on a hunt. I still don't know anything about this land." He said to self. But there was only a few things that was taught to him by the rangers guilds. They taught him the land, But not the locations of the cities, or the animals. He finely gets a glimpse of the city, still walking along the road. Sa'lin gets to the city edge, but thinking alittle. What he looks like could raise alarm but maybe not. So he keeps his hood off to give the dunmer some ease.
Once in the city of "Narsis" Sa'lin takes look at one of the inn's, and market places. "Wow, I didnt expect this place to be so beautiful." He says in a low voice to his self. Then smiles walking around seeing the bustling crowd of people selling, buying, and trading. He wasn't to interest in this, So he headed toward the inn to get some information.
The cave walls seemed to be quaking as Malina dodged a falling rock and it smashed onto the ground a few feet from her. As the cave walls became thin, a dragon ripped through the top, its fangs hanging inches away from Malina, the hot stench of rotted flesh seeped from its gaping mouth. Heart racing, she gripped the Dawnbreaker firmly in her right hand, facing the beast in it's full grown glory.
The corners of the dragons mouth curved into a deadly smile, "Wake up."
Malina tilted her head to the side, "What...?"
"I said," The dragon roared, anger dripping from his voice as he spoke, "WAKE. UP!"
The cave walls rumbled and quaked as the dragon's claws gripped Malina, dragging her upwards. He batted his large wings and began to fly sky high, Malina was left astounded. It was then, she began to fall as his claws unhinged his grip on the wood elf. She began to fall, fast. The ground below her came to greet her and an increasingly fast rate and she shut her eyes, and prayed.
As she hit the ground with a final thud...
"I SAID WAKE UP!" Malina awoke in shock, sitting up in her bed, an angered maid beating her with the end of her broom.
"Lovely to see you as well..." Malina grumbled, rubbing her head where she had been struck relentlessly.
"Wake up, get a move on, I need to clean this room." The maid stated, whipping the sheets from the elf, "I've got a lot of work to do today and I would like to start EARLY."
The wood elf's eyes narrowed for a moment, a growl lingering in her throat, but she swallowed it, and stood up from her bed. Getting dressed, Malina equipped herself with her bow, and quiver of Daedric arrows and walked outside. The sun was just peaking over Dragonsreach, a new day stretching it's tired legs, as the dusk shook off Whiterun.
Noticing a few Companions already out and about in the courtyard, she gives a small wave.
Today was a big day, she planned to go exploring in search of jewels and treasures to bring back home and sell.
Pleased with her thought of visiting Whitrun, she sped up, her horse galloping down the road. Passing a small group of Khajiit, she gives a nod before continuing. She knew the group, but the group she searching for likes to camp right outside the gates of the city.
Leaving her horse at the stables, with a little intimidation, she went and greeted the Khajiit she grew up with. "Ah, is that Qu'mar this one see's?" An elder Khajiit by the name of Ri'Dara said, his eyes narrowing on Qu'Mar. He watched as she walked up, giving the slightest nod in respect. "Ri'Dara is right about that." Qu'mar replied, a sly smile hinting on her face. βPlease, sit with Ri'Dara.β Ri'Dara said, his accent thick, and Qu'mar gave a nod and did just that, sitting next to him in front of his small tent with crossed legs and talked about their many adventures and many treasures.
Khayla wandered around the city for a bit, looking at a few of the merchant's wares. As she walked, she managed to find a few septims left laying around in peoples pockets. A guard stopped her on the street and began asking questions.
"Have you seen anything suspicious lately?" he asked, "There's been a chain of burglaries around the city."
"No sir, I haven't seen anything. I'll keep an eye out if you like." she said, trying to act casual.
"You do that." he said, eyeing her cautiously, like he was ready to attack if she made one wrong move.
She walked around the guard and continued on her way. The truth was, she HAD seen something suspicious and she was involved. The Thieves Guild had been a little more active lately, obviously catching the Jarl's eyes. She decided she should be more careful when she stole if the guards would be watching closer. She turned a corner to get away from to eyes of the guard, which were still staring. Relieved to be free from his line of sight, she worked her way back to The Bee and the Barb to get something to eat.
A lone figure walked into the city, black robed was he and bearing a cracked and evil seeming staff, in the northern regions of Morrowind the sky was a constant grey and night came suddenly, the eruption of the Red Mountain 480 years ago had unleashed a cloud of ash into the sky which had never truly faded away as the volcano continued to spew its heart into the world, this darkness only added to the sense of foreboding that seemed to cling to this robed figure. He made his slow, careful way to the heart of the city, where the fallen invaders were laid behind thick doors and walls, his progress was watched by a pair of priests of Arkay, the two Dunmer followed him deeper into the city until he stopped outside one of the many tomb-crypts.
βCan we help you friend?β The bolder of the two priests asked. The figure did not speak but simply turned on his heel to look at the priests, they were both more than a little surprised that the robed figure was a Breton and not a Dark Elf, as usually visited the city. The Bretons cold, calculating eyes scanned first one priest, then the other. A dark smile twisted his lips and gave him the appearance of one enjoying a cruel joke at another expense.
βIndeed you can. Friend.β He turned the last word back at the priests as an insult rather than a proclamation of kindness. His voice was that of a snake slithering on stone, low, gentle and filled with promise, yet at the same time hidden behind the soft and pleasant voice it had an air of a very real threat.
Before either priest could inquire what the Breton meant he lashed his arm out and twin bolts of lightning sprung from his arm, it hardly registered on his stores of magicka. The priests, never having faced pain in their easy lives fell with little more than a tortured groan, their deaths were quickly forgotten as the true intentions of this Breton became clear. A thick grey mist began to grow from the robed feat of the Breton, in but a moment it had covered the dead bodies of the priests.
And the priests stood up.
The eyes of the fallen Dunmer were as dull and grey as the mist that had revived them and now they were slaves to the will of their dark master. The mist spread outwards, it lapped around the stone and seeped into the tombs, it climbed up steps and dripped into underground ceilings. Every dead body of beings with black souls that it touched soon raised again, a slave. The undead army pushed open the doors to their tombs and with weapons that had sat in the grasp of the dead for perhaps hundreds of years they descended upon the priests and visitors.
The living Dunmer fell into a panic, no guards dwelt in Necrom for what need was there to guard the dead? And so it was a massacre, dozens died within the hour as the dead thralls hunted down each of the hiding or fleeing mortals. Though some did escape to flee to the south, the doors were sealed from the outside, though it may slow down the undead hordes it doomed those still left inside.
By dusk that day only one living thing remained in the city. The Breton necromancer who had raised an undead army not seen in over an era. In the depths of Necrom the tombs of the Akavari heroes was broken open, their resurrected bodies now served as the necromancers personal body guard. The Lord of the Dead had come to Necrom. The Blighted Empire had been founded.
Exiting the mans room, she entered the main room of the Bee and Bard, glancing around the room briefly before walking down the stairs, causally brushing past people every now and then as she made her way towards the Innkeeper. Her hand whipping out quickly and nimbly to grab coins from each pedestrians pocket.
"Hay Keerava, How are you this fine evening?", Koko asked charmingly, her 100-watt smile in place as she leaned forward just enough to pocket one of the money pouchs resting on the table top as Keerava turned to face her.
"Fine as I will ever be, I hope your not causing trouble again.", she grumbled out, perfectly aware of why the young halfling came to her tavern in the night. Keerava had no problem with the girl's illness and saw no issue in what she did, as long as she requested permission from the person she drank from in front of Keerava herself so that she knew everything was... 'legal' in a way.
Koko offered the women her most innocent smile that set the air around her to sparkling. "Of course not...", she trailed off briefly as she cased another glance around her before leaning closer to Keerava who mimicked her, "Have you talked to your family about allowing me to stay with them for a little while until i can get onto my feet?", she asked quietly, so quiet that none other then Keerave would be able to here her. The Argonian gave a small nod before backing off swiftly. Turning around to see what the argonian had seen, Koko felt her eyes darken as the Khajiit, Khayla, walked in. A good thief and a decent person but also an employee of the Dark Brotherhood, I.E someone who could cause her a whole lot of trouble if she didn't keep her eyes out and cautious.
"Khayla! Hay! Over here!", Koko shouted enthusiastically over the bustle of the tavarn, gaining more then just a little attention as she waved happily with a charming smile, eyes closed and face completely trusting as she pushed her guild persona to the surface.
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The Khajiit were camped just ahead and she smiled at them, quickening her pace up a bit.
Malina had begun her journeys in Skyrim with the Khajiit as a merchant. Many thought the Khajiit as scum, but Malina thought different. Malina had learned a lot from them, how to sneak, the art of speech, and they even helped her brush up on her bow skills. She had traveled with them for two years or so, until she had found Whiterun, joined the Companions and soon called the small town home.
"Good morning," She greeted them with a warm smile.
[[ooc - terribly sorry for the short post, my next ones will be longer]]
He looked over to the lady that was behind the counter. "Hello, sir how may I help you? we have a few rooms open if you need a place to stay. That would be five gold a night? My name is Yrdian. She said in a calm voice.
Sa'lin just looked at her, and smiled. I'm not actually looking for a place to stay. But if time permits it, I will stay for one night. But I'm actually looking for a Strange man. He looks like a male in his mid fifties. Is he staying here, and which room please. He said with a simple smile.
Yrdian, would just look at him with a blank stare. Well to think of it, we did get a man staying her for a few days. When you came in, he gave me this later. It says 'To Sa'lin' But then he canceled his stay, and left. Yrdian said with a puzzled look then slides the letter to him.
He looked at the letter wanting to know what it was, and why. Thank you for this. He says, with a nod, walking toward one of the tables. He would take his bag off, and place it next to his chair before seating his self. Once seated Sa'lin opened the letter looking at it. Then reads it to his self in a low voice. Dear, Saln Melcrest. We have a reason to believe that one of our Agents has found you're fathers location. But He has not stopped moving. I wanted to tell you that we have lost your fathers whereabouts. But we have found a trail that may lead to him. You will have to travel out of Narsis, head~~~ he reads to this point. But some of the words have been scratched off. He just shakes his hand looking around the inn for the answers.
Khayla looked up and instantly spotted the origin of the voice. She wove her way through the crowd, her hands slipping into a few pockets to fish out what little change she could. She sat down next to the speaker, Koko, the second in command of the Thieves Guild. "Hello, Koko." she said, nodding. The inn was always dimly lit, causing Khayla to be more at ease scince she could see better in the dark than most. She passed a few septims to Keerava, who nodded in response and brought out her meal. Khayla always ordered a slab of pheasant roast, so the Argonian knew exactly what she wanted. She started to tear it into little pieces as Koko spoke.
Ri'Dara's ears perked up at the sound of the Bosmer's voice and a toothy smile came upon the cat's face. Almost simultaneously, Qu'mar and Ri'Dara both rose to there feet in the effortless way Khajiit seem to move around. Ri'Dara, clearly knowing said Wood Elf, steeps forward. "Awh, Malina, how was trip in city? Ri'Dara was deciding on going and searching for Bosmer." He gave a hefty laugh at the end of his sentence.
Qu'Mar was quite surprised by this and hardly noticed the puzzled look that came to her own face as she watched Ri'Dara. She had basically grow up with the elder around and hardly saw him laugh, even by his own joke. He must trust this elf enough to let down his guard a little bit. Maybe she was a fellow merchant?
"Awh, yes, yes, but this one must introduce Qu'Mar." At that, Ri'Dara stepped aside slightly to allow Qu'Mar to step up to the plat, metaphorically speaking. "Qu'Mar finds pleasure in making..." pausing, not catching the elves name, she shot a look to Ri'Dara. "Malina," Ri'Dara whispered, trying to be as discrete as an old, deafening Khajiit can. Qu'Mar looks back to Malina. "Malina. This one finds pleasure making Malina's acquaintance." With a small, slow nod, she gives her regards.
While introductions are happening between the Khajiit and Wood Elf, Ri'Dara sneaks away to go get the trio some sweet rolls, returning with a plate of three Sweet Rolls. "Sweet Roll?" He says, offering. Qu'Mar, with a hint of smile, takes one slowly.
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"My trip was fine, thank you for asking. I have plenty of coin to last me a while, but there is always new secrets to unveil. I was planning to go out today.. I wanted to see if I could start making my way towards Blackreach. I hear there is a Crimson Nirnroot there.. But most say it's just a myth." She shrugged a small bit.
"Awh, yes, yes, but this one must introduce Qu'Mar." With this statement, the one named Qu'Mar sweeps over, "Qu'Mar finds pleasure in making..."
Qu'Mar pauses for a moment, seeming to forget her name, but swiftly picked his sentence back up, "Malina. This one finds pleasure making Malina's acquaintance."
Malina pushed her hand out to shake Qu'Mar's, "It's a pleasure Qu'Mar." She nodded her head in respect.
With no time to waste, Ri'Dara came back with three sweet rolls and offered them. Grateful, Malina scooped one up and took a bite; the sugar grazed her teeth and her body shook with delight, Malina did not have sweets often, it was a wonderful treat.
"So, what brings you to Whiterun?" She asked Qu'Mar between hasty bites of the sweet roll, keeping her eyes on the passing guards. Although the guards kept the city safe, Malina was always uneasy with them around. Where she came from, there were no need for guards, yes they had warriors, but it was safe to say most were trained to protect themselves.
She arrived to town after an hour and walked to the inn. She looked around her. It was quiet, not many customers around. It seemed good place to stay for a while. She would eat some breakfast and maybe even take a room. Sleeping high in the trees wasn't her favourite way to spend a night. And if she'd slept in ground, bandits could ambush her too easily.
βHello, miss. How may I help you? we have a few rooms open if you need a place to stay. That would be five gold a night? My name is Yrdian.β the innkeeper said to her, just like to everyone else who arrived at the inn before and after her. Shelrayne took few coins from her pocket and gritted her teeth. She would be broke when arriving at Mournhold. βA room for today and a beef stewβ she answered simply. Why to waste words?
She took the meal Yrdian gave to her and sat in one of the tables that was free. At the table next to her sat black-haired man mumbling to himself. Shelrayne didn't listen his words but started to eat the stew instead. And why would she? He wasn't talking to her.
Out of the heart of the city the revived dead now marched together, bearing weapons a plenty, axes and swords, bows and staffs, blades and magic in a fearsome mixture of death. At the heart of this foul army nation rode the necromancer who ruled them Jeaenirus Fralhaire, the Lord of the Dead, upon an ebony chariot drawn by a score of his thralls, the mist spilled out from his chariot and it flowed before the feet of the marching army, spreading like a great grey hand out across the land.
The army of the dead passed deeper into the heart of the province of Morrowind and doing so the Blighted Empire grew. Many small towns, lightly guarded keeps and forgotten dungeons did they pass. Most fell under an hour, the sheer numbers of the dead along with the unexpected nature of the attack took the Dunmer by surprise. Before long a great refugee train was heading westwards, before splitting into three. One line heading for Skyrim, one for Narsis and the last for the protection of the Imperial Province itself, each refugee took with them tales of the Mistwalkers, who cut down all in their path. It was the few survivors from Mournhold that brought the darkest tale.
It was in the dead of night that the army arrived at the walls of the city, which had been warned just the day before of the approaching undead and managed to bring together what arms it could. The city was by far the weakest in all of Morrowind, its crumbling walls and deprived people made it a black stain on its once great history, the city had been sacked and destroyed many times in the last era and had never truly recovered. The army did not attack at first, instead they waited in the dark for no torch did their lifeless eyes need, instead the mist seeped into the city through the sewers. And attacked the tombs and graveyards of those lost during the cities destruction. The second army, now inside the city walls and though outnumbered by the city guards was not expected, for they thought the mist was simply a cover for the undead legions. The first half of the army fell upon the gate guards, not to defeat them, but to simply hold them back. It was the second part of the army which fell upon the citizens of the city, unguarded and helpless they fell to the swords of the dead and were brought back as their killers comrades, in a matter of minutes the city was as a kicked hornets nest, citizens and guards ran every way as they tried to find the threat and flee from it more often than not. In this chaos the main army fell upon the city, the gates were pushed open from the inside, for the dead had managed to take them for but a moment, soon the city was in a great rout. The guards gave their lives in a doomed rearguard action so that the last of the civilians could escape to warn the rest of Morrowind. Even as the last of the elven defenders fought, their former brothers in arms cut them down and pressed them into their ranks. Mournhold had fallen in a night alone.
It was these tales that spread like wildfire in courts and corner-clubs of Narsis and Ebonheart. Whispers begun to grow in Skyrim, but the Nords would have no fear, for great walls guarded all passes and great watchtowers watched its people. Cyrodill did not heed these warnings, though the Imperial Legion in Ebonheart doubled their watch, the heartland of the Empire was too concerned with watching the enemy in the south to think of a possible new threat in the east. For the Dunmer of Morrowind they did not have the luxury of ignorance, for if the tales of the doom of Mournhold did not chill their blood what news they brought with them next would. The Mistwalkers were once more on the march and heading next for Narsis. And they would be there at weeks end.
Salin was getting a little frustrated at the fact he wasn't able to find his father. He huffed a little standing up from the table, and pushing the chair in. Once that was done, salin headed for the Inn keeper. "I would like to Buy a room for the night please." He would give her the 5 gold. Then takes the key from her with a smile.
Once the key was headed to him, he headed up the stairs to his room. Salin just placed the key into the hole, then hears the click, and the door opens. Salin then walks right into room closing the door behind him. He would be in there taking off his gear trying to relax because of him being so upset. As he thinks alittle to his self laying down on the bed next to the wall. "If this keeps up, i'm never going to find my father at all. I might just die. But i won't" He would say to his self
There's two things one could do in this situation. One, she could tell the blunt truth, but that may not be too smart. Considering she just met this woman, she could go the other route and lie, but, with Qu'Mar's luck, she'd be confronted upon leaving by Ri'Dara, and she doesn't wish to explain herself. Or, she could say something that's not entirely a lie. Of course, the latter is the best way to go. "Just paying a visit to some old friends before heading out." Qu'Mar said with a casual tone, or as much as a casual tone a Khajiit can possibly muster.
"Awh, where was Khajiit heading?" Ri'Dara buts in with a mouth full of sweet-roll. "Khajiit was planning on heading to Riften, but Khajiit isn't sure if Khajiit will make it today. May need to wait until tomorrow." Qu'Mar said, looking at Ri'Dara, before turning back to Malina. "Does smooth-skin always stay in Whiterun?" Qu'Mar eyed Malina for a moment before eying a guard as he walked by, her eyes ever so narrow. Guards. Nothing ever goes right around guards.
She wondered who was the one they were tracking. It wasn't rare to have track and kill jobs, even though this job seemed to contain just the first part. She knew couple of names, she had been asked to keep her eyes and ears open. She wondered how much this man called Salin was paying for the information. She was in the desperate need of money and if that outsider would be as desperate to get information she could share...
Her thoughts very interrupted when a dark elf stepped inside the inn. He was injured and seemed to be a bit terrified. The innkeeper greeted him, but he didn't even paid attention to her. He was looking around the inn, walking then to Shelrayne. βYou. You're not outsider?β he asked. βNo.β she answered simply. βThen, listen the story, I have.β he started telling her the events of Mournhold, quietly so no one else could hear him. Shelrayne listened quietly. When he has finished his story his voice was shaking. Shelrayne rose up and nodded to him. She then walked to upstairs thinking what she had just heard. The man seemed to talk the truth, but how something like that could happen. And there was always possibility he'd be paranoia.
Her room happened to be next to Salin's and she could hear his voice from the other side of the wall, even though she couldn't hear the exact words. She shrugged her shoulders and took her dagger in her hand. He had connections to the guild, she doubted he would denounce her. And if he would, she spinned the dagger, it would be over quickly. She walked to his door and opened the lock with Alteration spell. Even if it wasn't her strongest aspect, being part of the Brotherhood required that skill. She stepped inside his room, holding the letter in her left hand and the dagger in her right. βIt's a fun thing. Outsiders keep dropping interesting things.β
You know you could have knocked, and you could have left the dagger in your Sheath. But since your here, I see you already know who I am just from that letter. If you want to help me kill my father.? He asked. Sa'lin just stood up looking at the female in the room, then walks over toward her placing a hand on the door. He just gently pushs it closed locking it right after. He then walked over toward a chair that was next to the bed. "Sit if you want, or stand. I don't care." He says, then sits on the bed waiting for the woman to speak her peace.
- 22 posts here • Page 1 of 1
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View All » Add Character » 9 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Salin Melcrest
"I'm just a man, trying to live." (Will find a picture soon)
Qu'Mar
"I make with what I got."
Malina the Swift
May the shadows be forever in your favor.
Khayla
A thief-assassin
Jeaenirus Fralhaire
The lord of the dead
Trending
Qu'Mar
"I make with what I got."
Salin Melcrest
"I'm just a man, trying to live." (Will find a picture soon)
Khayla
A thief-assassin
Jeaenirus Fralhaire
The lord of the dead
Malina the Swift
May the shadows be forever in your favor.
Most Followed
Khayla
A thief-assassin
Qu'Mar
"I make with what I got."
Salin Melcrest
"I'm just a man, trying to live." (Will find a picture soon)
Jeaenirus Fralhaire
The lord of the dead
Malina the Swift
May the shadows be forever in your favor.
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Elder Scrolls: Empire
1, 2by claw on Mon Jun 23, 2014 4:07 am
- 26 Replies
- 1266 Views
- Last post by Krazy13
on Mon Jul 21, 2014 7:28 pm
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Elder Scrolls: Empire
Most recent OOC posts in Elder Scrolls: Empire
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I'm so sorry I haven't posted. I'll try to do quick post tomorrow morning. I have an idea just no time to sit and write >.> But I don't want this to die either.
Also, I won't be online much for the next three weeks because of that project. After that I can focus on rping again.
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I'm just giving my thoughts and not trying to be offensive. Just trying to give some advice.
This was a really good concept too. You could try rebooting the story on a smaller scale, that way not only will you as the GM have more control, but you'll also be able to get to the action faster?
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And I just noticed that. Huh. Maybe because the Dark Brotherhood is awesome? XD (I know that going after the Dark Brotherhood was one of the first things I sought when I got Skyrim)
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First of all, yes you can start posting :)
And secondly, no, everyone doesn't have to be in same place. You can start anywhere you want, that what claw said to me. You don't even have to be in Morrowind I think. I just chose start from there (and that has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that my character is dark elf xD)