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"Ok, I'll do it. Even though that plan is faulty, and is likely to get everybody killed, but hey, I'm a big, stupid lizard, so my opinion doesn't count."

0 · 232 views · located in Tamriel: Skyrim

a character in “War For Skyrim”, as played by R.T.M.X.



- Full Name: Gah-Julahk

- Nickname(s): Julahk

- Age: Exact age unknown, presumed mid-forties to early-fifties

- Gender: Male

- Race: Saxhleel (Argonian)

- Faction: Independent, though leans towards the Legion more than the Stormcloaks

- Guild Member: Freelance Adventurer

The beast of an Argonian towers over both man and mer, his reptilian form standing well over seven feet, almost pushing for the eight foot mark. His ridged, bumpy skin, more akin to that of an alligator than to a snake's, holds terrifying hues of brown and black, scars riddling throughout his body, the most recent being a set of claw marks under his left eye, slowly healing. His broad maw is full of razor sharp, needle-like teeth, as if they were daggers made to punch through tough flesh. Two bonelike protrusions point outwards from his chin, with three more located along his jaws and three running along his cheek and brow. His eyes are a startling pale yellow, more bestial in nature. Behind his ears lies a small set of gills, camouflaged against his hide. Two horns protrude from the back of the head, both with tribal designs etched into them. His muscular frame makes other argonians cry, weighing in at a hefty 250 pounds. One row of small, ridged spikes run down the middle of his tail, protected with plates of steel.

Gah-Julahk dons a modified suit of Steel Armor (though he prefers light over heavy), perfectly blended between heavy and light armor, the cuirass and pauldrons made from improved steel, while his leggings and gauntlets derive from leather, leaving his claws from being covered. Steel plating go roughly halfway down his tail, leather wrappings securing the armor to the ridges that run down his tail. Due to his unique body frame, as opposed to the more humanoid races, his digitigrade legs deny him of wearing actual boots, but the talons located on his feet make up for this. He is also unable to wear closed helmets, so he wears a non-magical hood over his head.


- Weapon: Gah-Julahk is quite versed in the art and technique of one-handed combat, as well as utilizing unarmed strikes. As such, it is usually a fatal flaw to assume that he is truly unarmed when he has no weapons in hand. He has been known from time to time to improvise, using ordinary objects such as tree branches as clubs and wooden spoons as daggers. If given the chance, and without a weapon nearby, the Argonian will slash, bite, and kick at his opponents, often with hilarious, but deadly, outcomes, usually ending poorly for the victim at such attacks.

Normally, he carries an iron greatsword, as well as his Steel Sword. His large body frame does allow him to wield the greatsword with a single hand, but even this has negative consequences. Wielding such a weapon one handed somewhat decreases his accuracy with the weapon a little bit, due to the large size and shape of the weapon making it awkward for him to utilize it as such.

- Quote: "Let the rivers of blood be swift."

- Theme song: Norwegian Pirate - Two Steps From Hell

- Brief History: Hailing from the swamplands of Black Marsh many years ago, Gah-Julahk had settled for the life of adventure, serving as a mercenary for various organizations. Over time, this had built up a reliable clientele, allowing him to stay in business for all this time, even gaining temporary employment within the Legion from time to time...

During his younger years, he was actively moving around from place to place, despite having a war going on between the Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion. He had been involved with a group of six other adventurers, calling themselves the Pathfinders. They often set out long treks of exploration, searching out relics of the past, such as the legendary Boots of the Apostle and the Fang of Haynekhtnamet, though they didn't have much luck and settled down for lesser artifacts, ranging from items such as Varla Stones and the Bittercup...

However, over the years, things didn't turn out so well between the members of the group, and it fell apart shortly after the Bittercup was found, which had sparked an interest of individuality. And so, the Pathfinders were no more...

Gah-Julahk had been in Skyrim for over a year now, and often visits two of his relatives in Solitude and Riften, where both work as dock workers.

- Personality: Gah-Julahk is friendly to most other people, however this friendly behavior is less so toward Nords and Dunmer, and can quickly fade into anamosity if falsely accused or have his name slurred upon by any member of these two races. But don't let this friendliness get to you. He's in it for the money, to state it bluntly. In other words, "he'll say that he saved you, then kick your face in." If you piss him off, that is.

He speaks two different languages- Jel, the language of the Argonians, one that is nearly impossible for non-Argonians to truly speak, and the shared language that all races on Tamriel can speak and understand. While he can speak this shared language fluently, he often breaks it up on purpose, to put in the clever ruse that people would often falsely assume that he has an issue with understanding the language.

He is often silent and plays the ruse of being dumb quiet well, as he's a big stupid lizard. So, with that assumption already made in people's minds, he will play along, proving how gullible and stupid these Nords and Dunmer really are, with them judging somebody through past characteristics and racial profiling...


Monkey. And No Dovahkiin. Unless GM wants to, then he can.

So begins...

Gah-Julahk's Story


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Character Portrait: Gah-Julahk
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The Extraordinarily "ordinary" Argonian

The rumors of a dragon attacking Whiterun had continuously plagued the Argonian's mind, pelting him over and over again with both ideas and questions alike. Travelling from Riften to Whiterun, by carriage no doubt, had taken the alien a whole week to get there. Throughout the second half of the trip, he had often wondered if it was possible to create a set of armor from the bones, and possibly the scales, of any possible dragons, assuming that the one that attacked Whiterun wasn't the only one and there are more out there, and if he would be able to get his claws on procuring a set.

Hell, he would even look good in the armor, even if it would cost him a fortune to acquire...

With Helgen destroyed and that road out of the question, it had cost him a good 750 septims for the ride, with the usual being a mere 20. The trip was a dangerous one, the horse-drawn carriage being literally forced to travel the long away around the mountain that the Throat of the World resided. Gah-Julahk wasn't the only person on the carriage, as there were two other passengers, Redguards with impressive curved swords, but he spoke no words to either one.

The weight of the three passengers and their equipment had consistantly pushed the wooden carriage down, effectively slowing down everything about the trip, placing pressure on the cart's axles. The Argonian was sprawled out across the top of the passenger's cart, his heavy frame, much larger than the average Argonian, easily reaching both cart rails and using them as armrests, though they were still a little too spread out for comfort. He had his steel armor, the cuirass atleast, removed and stowed away in the passenger's chest, a chest permanently attached to the cart with the sole purpose of storing the cargo of a carriage driver's passengers (hence the name), leaving his torso, where the armor usually attached to for the most part, bare to the nippy weather and the warm rays of the sun...

The trip itself was dangerous to say the least, the last safe haven was Ivarstead, and the young adventurer had left the settlement only days ago. It was this very trip that they have approached another traveller, however the person's face and body was covered in shadow of the night, and they were heading towards Ivarstead. The settlement was also the place that the Argonian had overheard the rumors of dragons returning. The same rumors that have now been plaguing his mind...

As the carriage approached the Whiterun Stables, Gah-Julahk reached into a small personal sack that he had kept on him most of the time, where he would keep personal belongings such as pocket coinage and the like. There, he pulled out a note that a messenger had handed to him while in Riften, visiting an old friend and "relative".

"Hello, You may not know me, but I do know you. I have a job offer that will interest you. If you are truly interested, come to the Bannered Mare in Whiterun. From there, an associate of mine will give you the details on the offer. Consider to be reinbursed on your travel funds if you do accept.

-Signed, A U"

This better be damn well worth it, he thought to himself, as the cart slowed to a stop. He refitted his cuirass and armor, taking a good ten minutes to get everything adjusted nicely. As the passengers dropped from the cart, it suddenly sprung up a few inches, relieved from the combined weight of their bodies and items. He had already told the driver that he could keep whatever was left, in case of any bandits tried having them pay for a "toll". Pulling the brown hood over his horns and head, the Argonian finished reequipping himself before heading off towards the gates, leading into Whiterun. Due to these new events, and judging by his size and bestial nature, one could mistake him for a small, wingless dragon, and Gah-Julahk didn't want that to happen to him...


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Character Portrait: Syndelius Amir Character Portrait: Gah-Julahk
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Syndelius Amir
Path to Whiterun

The long track back to Whiterun was rather uneventful. On a typical journey Synde would see bandits or several feral creatures scurrying about. “Maybe that loud roar was heard this far from the mountain. Or the mountain echoed the roar to the surrounding lands.” Either way Synde was pleased not too have to deal with any of the usual rift-raft that would jump out of hiding and try to steal his septims. He very much enjoyed being the only one jumping out and stealing things. Competition is not good for business.

As grew closer and closer to Whiterun charred remnants of a battle and the smell of burnt flesh became prevalent. The closer he stepped the crumbling ruins of what use to be the Western Watchtower became ever more vivid. “Hmm did the Stormcloaks attack the Western Watchtower? No magic or weapon could cause this amount of devastation without leaving a trace.” As he slowly approach the Watchtower a figure came within his eyesight that froze him in place.

Several people were huddled around the remains of a large reptilian creature. There appeared to be two warriors conversing with a mage and a Thalmor. While Synde has had many dealings with the Empire the Thalmor have always been untrustworthy employers that he’d wish too avoid. The others seemed to be of a combination of Breton and Nordic descent. Synde’s curiosity constantly goated him to investigate the creature’s corpse a little closer, but his mind kept warning him not to make himself known to the Thalmor at this time. He kept his distance and casually began to walk past on his way to Whiterun when a startling thought sent a chill throughout every bone in his body.

“The roar on the mountain! Don’t tell me it could have been another one of those beasts. Maybe the ramblings of those bandits were true!” After the fear and panic set in another, more avaricious thought entered his mind. “I bet a live dragon would fetch a hefty price. That’s if I can survive a live one.” Synde lost himself deep in though as he slowly walked toward the direction of the Whiterun Gates.

“That creature’s corpse had an enormous wingspan. It must have been capable of flying great distances without becoming tired. There hasn’t been an appearance of a dragon since the time of Tiber Septim. Throughout history there have been tales of warriors and mages having dragons as familiars, companions, and it is even rumored that Tiber Septim used them as soldiers. If dragons have returned I wonder if any of the other Akaviri have resurrected. Dragons are rumored to be more intelligent than men so taming one may be out of the question. Hmm maybe I’ll have to find a female dragon and charm her with my wit. That begs the question do dragons have gender. How do they reproduce? If they lay eggs and reproduce as quickly as many reptilian species do then we may be facing extinction soon. I need to hurry up and get my payment from Andurs so I can investigate this a little mor---…”

Syndes thought process was interrupted when he bumped into what appeared to be a large wall. The jolt of the impact managed to knock him too the ground. He looked up too see a giant figure towering over him. The figure appeared to be of argonian in nature but it was unlike any argonian Synde has ever seen before. The beast wore large steel armor and carried a large greatsword and steel sword on his back. Synde arose to his feet and dusted himself off.

“Well aren’t you quite the specimen. I’m surprise you would venture to Whiterun with all the talk of dragons. Throw a couple wings on your back and the entire city would be in a panic”


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Walking up the path leading towards the city's gates, the Argonian had noticed that his Kahjiit friend Ri'saad and his trade caravan had finished setting up their camp for the next couple of days of business. While the Khajiit were an untrusted group of folk and weren't allowed within the city walls, Gah-Julahk had often made the majority of his trades with them, only entering the city when his equipment demanded it.

"Ah, my lizard friend. What made up your mind to visit us again?" Ri'saad greeted the Argonian while getting up from his usual spot by the caravan's tent. "Do you wish to view my wares once more, or did you wish to speak about that dragon attack?"

The Argonian paused for a second, pondering about what words he should use. After all, they were good friends, and Gah-Julahk did have some form of discount with the trade caravans. Replying in a strong, deep, accented* voice, Gah-Julahk revealed the reason why he was visited Whiterun. "I'm here for a business arrangement with a potential client. I'll return after that's concluded, and spend some time with you afterwards." He gestured a sign of respect, a "brotherly" fistbump, with the Khajiit before moving onwards to the city gates.

As he was nearing the switchback set into the path to the gates, he had felt something bump into him, and he stopped to look what might have he walked into - or what had walked into him...

“Well aren’t you quite the specimen. I’m surprise you would venture to Whiterun with all the talk of dragons. Throw a couple wings on your back and the entire city would be in a panic.”

Turning around slightly, he had noticed that a young Dunmer had walked into him, and was picking himself up from the ground. The Argonian had taken him to be a mage, though there was something out of place about the figure, the clues from the gloves pointing towards Thieve's Guild, but it wasn't something of importance that had captured Gah-Julahk's observations. He let out a quick snarl, his upper lip pulling back, revealing a row of needle-teeth, before continuing on his way. After all, the dark elf did walk into him. He wasn't quite as fond of either Nord or Dunmer as he was of the other races, mostly through bad blood from the past - the Nords of Windhelm are racist towards all non-Nords, and thus, in the Argonian's eyes, all Nords are racist, while the Dunmer of past had thought Argonians were nothing more than beasts of burden.

Leaving the dark elf behind, and upon reaching the gates, the two guards at their posts approached and stopped him from entering altogether, disgust in their voice.

"Oh, it's you again. What brought you back again, scaleback?" One of the guards asked the Argonian, even using the racial slur that had always irritated Gah-Julahk. But he had kept himself from lashing out at these two guards and making more of a scene.

Speaking out in a broken form of the shared language, the form quite different than what he had used earlier with the Khajiit, he replied pointing to himself, "I back on business. Important."

The guards stepped aside, the same one speaking once more. "You are very lucky that the Jarl lets you in. While I don't see it, you must be important or something, because he hardly lets any of you scalebacks into the city, let alone wander within the walls."

The Argonian walked through the gates at last, and had kept his hood covering most of his head, though he was getting awkward looks from everybody passing by. He didn't take note of any of the faces, and while some were familiar to him, he wasn't quite given the freedom to actually speak to anybody outside The Bannered Mare and a couple of merchants and had continued down the path to the inn, passing both The Drunken Huntsman and Warmaiden's along the way.

Passing through the market area, which had seemed quite empty compared to his last visit a month before, he entered the inn, having to duck to get through the door, as he was a mere half foot taller than the doorframe itself. The fireplace within the center of the hall was a welcoming sight, even though the music being played by none other than Mikael could be missed without worry, Saadia tending to the patrons of the inn as usual...

"Hey Julahk, ready for a round of friendly woman-on-man action? I bet a hundred gold I can take you this time around." He was greeted upon entering by a friend of his, Uthgerd nonetheless. She was one of the few Nords that have gained both his trust and friendship, a rare sight to see a Nord and an Argonian helping each other out, but it was an even rarer sight to see these two spar against each other.

The music stopped, and as if everybody knew the drill, some of the benches and even people were moved, revealing a clearing some feet away from the firepit. Gah-Julahk had already defeated her in unarmed combat once before, a couple months back, even winning some gold from the challenge. She had been boasting that she could beat anybody in the city, and had challenged him when he had talked to her about her attitude. She was still wearing the same suit of steelplate armor since the first time that they had met, a compliment to her character as a warrior.

Removing both weapons from his back and placing them by the counter, and walked into the clearing. People, despite how few there were, began gathering around them. The massive Argonian taking a defensive stance, the Nord that of offense.

Charging into him, Uthgerd took the first swing, planting a solid punch into his chest. Staggering back, Gah-Julahk noticed that either she had grown stronger since the last time they sparred, or that he was just growing old. Hoping to catch him while staggered, she threw another punch into him, firmly connecting with the palm of an open hand.

Gah-Julahk grabbed hold of her fist, keeping a tight hold onto the steel glove, effectively limited both to only single punches. Sliding inward towards her, he threw an elbow strike into her, his right elbow and forearm gracefully landing and connecting the blow to the upper portion of her left arm. This had given him another attack of opportunity, however it had also left him open for a counterattack from Uthgerd. He rebounds into another strike with his right arm, aiming his elbow into her underarm.

Knowing this, she inches a couple inches back, dodging the follow-up strike and putting the Argonian into the open. She snapped forward while snapping her head down into his clavicle, effectively headbutting him. This sudden strike stunned him for a good second, his grip loosened over her fist and forcing him to let out a small hiss. Seeing a small window of opportunity to get another strike in before he recovers, the Nord had attempted to throw a downward punch onto the top of his forehead, but he had recovered just in time to initiate a last-second charge into her.

Placing a well placed shoulder into her breastplate, Gah-Julahk managed to best her, picking her up a good foot or so from the ground, then having her crash onto her back from the sudden inverse of inertia. Stumbling forwards, he too, crashed onto the floor, being unable to keep his balance.

The two fighters stayed on the ground for a good thirty seconds, laughing it off and recovering from their friendly spar. As they picked themselves back up, she had offered the hundred pieces of coinage, as she was the first to hit the ground, but the Argonian had simply refused it.

"Fight more than coin. Fun." He explained in his broken dialect. Now, even though she knew that he normally didn't speak like this, she noticed that he had merely played along the misconception that because he's a warrior, and that he's an Argonian, he was stupid...

Returning to retrieve his weapons, the crowd dispersing back to what they've been doing originally , the innkeeper Hulda had slipped a quiet greeting to him, saying "I think somebody's here waiting to speak with you. He's been here for quite some time, and he's staying in the guest room."

Nodding to such a greeting, Gah-Julahk headed up the northwestern stairs, and within a couple of minutes, had reached the room. Out of courtesy, he had knocked, and heard the door's lock becoming disengaged, with an hooded man answering the door. Stepping through the door, the hooded man closed the door after him, and pulled he hood down...

*OOC: The voice that I imagined that Gah-Julahk would have is that of Sean Connery, however there are very few words that one could think of to describe his voice without either saying his name outright or without breaking character.