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Elder Scrolls: Empire

Tamriel

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a part of Elder Scrolls: Empire, by claw.

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claw holds sovereignty over Tamriel, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

353 readers have been here.

Copyright: The creator of this roleplay has attributed some or all of its content to the following sources:

http://elderscrolls.wikia.com/wiki/the_elder_scrolls_wiki

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Tamriel

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Tamriel is a part of Elder Scrolls: Empire.

9 Characters Here

Salin Melcrest [6] "I'm just a man, trying to live." (Will find a picture soon)
Qu'Mar [3] "I make with what I got."
Malina the Swift [3] May the shadows be forever in your favor.
Khayla [3] A thief-assassin
Thorok [3]
Koko [2] A wandering Thief
Jeaenirus Fralhaire [2] The lord of the dead
Lagertha [0] "Companion, Paladin, Ex-Forsworn"

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Character Portrait: Shelrayne Vanhari
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It was dawn, the sun was just rising up. Shelrayne Vanhari, a skillful mage and assassin when it suited for her, sat high in a tree near the town of Narsis in Morrowind looking at the clear blue sky. ”It's a new day” she said to herself and collecting her belongings, some food, two silver daggers and spell scrolls she had got from the guild, she jumped down. She was part of College of Whispering and was taking the spell scrolls and alchemy ingredients to her guild mate for his researches. He was Argonian called Teekrenaza something, Shelrayne didn't care about his name, and he lived in Mournhold. She would also stay there for some time and help in out. Not the greatest job in the world, she hated to work with others, and the pay wasn't good either, but Shelrayne was in the need of money. She was thinking if she would found out did Dark Brotherhood have any jobs. At least their pay was good.

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.

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Character Portrait: Salin Melcrest
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Dawn started to rise from the mountains in Morrowind as the air was fresh. Sa'lin sitting there on his side next to a tree, and a ember fire that was in front of him. All his stuff placed neatly in the tree next to him, with a Cloth around it to keep the rain from getting in, and shielding him if needed. It almost looked like a makeshift tent, but it did its job. When it get around for Sa'lin to get up, he placed his hand on the makeshift tent taking it down. Then placing it back in his bag, he would stand placing both of his arms into the air opening his hands a little, as he stretches. "Another Day, Searching for the man that killed my mother." He said to his self. Then letting his arms fall back to his sides, He would lean over grabbing all of his belongs: Which was his two short swords, bow, quiver, pieces of his leather armor, and Bag. Once all of the thing was placed in its rightful place. Sa'lin looked around walking along the trees. Then finely finding his way out onto the path toward the city in Morrowind.

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.

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Character Portrait: Malina the Swift
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Malina tossed in her sleep, this way and that, letting out a huff of distress.

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.

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Character Portrait: Qu'Mar
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"This one might stop at Whiterun this day, hmm, yes?" Qu'Mar says aloud to herself as she looks over the land. It's the break of dawn and the sun just starts to go over the clear land. Rabbits hop around while a pair of elk trot by. A lone fox cuts in front of the horse Qu'Mar rides, and he stops. Patting the horse slightly to calm him, they continue forward to Whiterun. Qu'mar spends most of her days traveling, whether it's to the sanctuary for word of a client, to the home of a target, or for personal business and pleasure. This time, it's merely to see her few...friends that reside in or near the city before heading on down to Riften to do some business.

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. “Please, sit with Ri'Dara.” 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.

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#, as written by Hyydra

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Character Portrait: Khayla
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#, as written by Krazy13
Khayla drew her bow and let her arrow fly. It peirced the elk's heart as it flew, dropping the animal instantly. She jumped down from her tree and walked up to her kill. She skinned it and took the valuable parts. She headed back to Riften to sell her loot. She went to the general store to lighten her load and sold the antlers and meat.

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.

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Character Portrait: Jeaenirus Fralhaire
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#, as written by claw
The city of Necrom was one of stone; dozens of tiers placed upon each other as generation after generation of dead were laid to their final resting place, before long this ancient city was expanded downward rather than outwards to save space. The city had its origins with the ancient Akavari invaders, it was in this place that their fallen kings and great warriors were placed, for here it was generally accepted to be the closest to distant Akavir, it was then adopted by the Dwemer for the same purpose, in time the Dunmer took over the province, it was their beliefs that all dead should be put into necropolises, so that they may take comfort in the afterlife. This stone city was almost entirely populated by the bodies of the long dead races, with a few priests of Arkay and the daily flow of visitors to pay their respects or to lay the fresh dead to rest.

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.


“Can we help you friend?” 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.


“Indeed you can. Friend.” 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.

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Character Portrait: Khayla Character Portrait: Koko
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#, as written by Miyer
Koko grinned as she pulled away from the deadly pale man below her. If anyone else had seen the same scene, they would assume the man was dead but Koko knew better, with the sound of his faint but steady heartbeat she knew the man would live to see another day. As she stood to leave, she glanced down into the reflective metal of a plate that the man obviously used as a cheap and makeshift mirror. Her eyes glowed a brief red before returning to their pale baby blue. Her skinned gained more life and her cheeks were flushed with the new blood flowing though her body.

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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Malina walked through the town as kids ran past her, playing tag. As she entered the front entrance of the town, Malina pushed through the large doors, making her way down the path. The open road always seemed to call to the wood elf, something about the extreme sense of freedom always jostled her bones with excitement.

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]]

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Character Portrait: Salin Melcrest
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Sa'lin stopped right in front of the inn looking at the door, and the windows of it. This placed seemed to always be crowed, but he is sure that his informant was inside. "He better be in here, or I'm going to have to talk to the thief's guild." He said to his self, then placed hand on the doors handle. He would pull the door open, then takes a step into the inn. Once inside of the inn he would take a few step toward the counter placing his hand on the wood.

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.

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Character Portrait: Khayla Character Portrait: Koko
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#, as written by Krazy13
"Khayla! Hay! Over here!"

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.

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Character Portrait: Malina the Swift Character Portrait: Qu'Mar
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"Good morning," Greeted a Bosmer as she walked up to the Khajiit.

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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Character Portrait: Thorok
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#, as written by Hyydra

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Character Portrait: Thorok
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#, as written by Hyydra

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Character Portrait: Thorok
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#, as written by Hyydra

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"Awh, Malina, how was trip in city? Ri'Dara was deciding on going and searching for Bosmer." Ri'Dara gave a hearty chuckle, and Malina returns the laughter with a small giggle of her own. Malina had always loved the Khajiit, they were always very kind to her and for that she was grateful.

"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.

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Character Portrait: Salin Melcrest Character Portrait: Shelrayne Vanhari
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Shelrayne walked towards Narsis leisurelly, she wasn't in hurry. Even if her guild mate waited her, she didn't see point in rushing. Besides, he was Argonian, an outsider. Of course she could let him wait a bit.

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.

”Hello, 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.” 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. ”A room for today and a beef stew” 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.

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Character Portrait: Jeaenirus Fralhaire
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#, as written by claw
The dark mist had not been confined to the necropolis city of Necrom, it now spread over the walls in great gas-falls the seeped over the harsh lands of Morrowind. Before long this mist had seeped into the ground and discovered deep buried dead, with many a twisting and turning these long forgotten souls pushed their way to the surface, tearing their way from the very flesh of the ground itself, they gathered outside the great stone gates of the stone city and pulled away the baring and let the gates open, releasing the mist which had been building up in the days since its creation was spilled out with a great howling that went out across the dark plains.

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.

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Character Portrait: Salin Melcrest Character Portrait: Shelrayne Vanhari
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Salin sits there trying to find the answer. But it just wasn't coming to him, So he looked over the letter a little more. Then seen a crest of the Dark Brotherhood on the side of the later. "Damn it. The Dark Brotherhood can't seem to get it right. He said a little louder, then he thought. But still looking at the letter, he would place it in his pocket. But The letter would fall to the floor from his pocket.

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

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Character Portrait: Malina the Swift Character Portrait: Qu'Mar
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"So, what brings you to Whiterun?" Malina asked, Qu'Mar looked up from her sweet-roll.

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.

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Character Portrait: Salin Melcrest Character Portrait: Shelrayne Vanhari
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Shelrayne was finishing her meal. "Damn it. The Dark Brotherhood can't seem to get it right.” A man next to her said. She immediately focused on him, listening if he'd say anything else. However she had no luck to hear anything else from him. She wished she had, the guild would pay for any information that meant there's problems for them. However when he left, a letter dropped out of his pocket right next to the table she was sitting on. Making sure no one else had seen it she stretched her leg and pulled the letter closer to her, the took it up from the floor acting like she had dropped it herself. She read the words that had written on it.

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. ”You. You're not outsider?” he asked. ”No.” she answered simply. ”Then, listen the story, I have.” 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. ”It's a fun thing. Outsiders keep dropping interesting things.”

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Character Portrait: Salin Melcrest Character Portrait: Shelrayne Vanhari
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Salin looked towards the door sighing a little at the Dark Elf, Female coming in. "Ok? So you didn't knock on the door, but came in anyways. So since your here, what do you want?" Sa'lin looking at the Female, he'd sit up crossing his arms over his chest. Then noticing the letter in her hand. He'd notice the dagger in the opposite hand. Sa'lin just raised a brow sighing a little. "So about that letter, do you have information on my Father?" He asks her placing hand on his side. Then stares at the dagger then her once more.

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.