Skyrim roleplay

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    News has spread all over the regions of skyrim....the dragon born has been defeated by dragon known as "the world eater" aka Alduin. dragons still are throughout skyrim, doing as they please while Alduin is planning to take over the world, enslaving everyone. But no one knows the whereabouts of alduin, and no one knows what to do to stop him, is there hope? A new prophecy must be found



    Cyalar fought against the bitter cold wind, she hid in her cave. Up on the middle mountain range in skyrim. Her cave was dark, as making a fire was far to dangerous for the khajiit, due to her vampire form. All she felt was the cold, even when it wasn't cold, she was cold. It was her life, something she wished hadn't of happen to her. But it did...and it desecrated her life. It made her lonely, and made her a criminal to all cities. But she still choose to live this life all alone, in solitary confinement.


    Cyalar got up to feed off the newly dead carcass of a imperial citizen that ventured to her cave, in hopes of some new discovery, only to be finding his death. Cyalar slowly let her fangs sink deep into the dead body as she drained it of its crimson red liquid.

    The post was edited 1 time, last by Misschoatic ().

    A black figure in dark robes held a fireball in one hand and a glowing source in the other. Growling from a small group of three wolves encircled her. "Mangy mutts!" she hissed, pointing her hands at one and letting the fire loose. although it was a blizzard, her fire did a number on the snow wolf she'd aimed.

    The inn was, for the most part, quiet for now. Which made sense, considering it was still early in the day. It always got worse late at night. Linis didn't really mind, he liked meeting new people, but he did appreciate the quiet for now.
    The stack of books he had next to him was barely standing upright, although quite frankly he was impressed it hadn't fallen over yet. There had to be ten, maybe more. Linis wasn't really sure, but it didn't really matter, anyways. He wasn't even studying a specific topic, actually. He just wanted to read.
    He did eye the door every time it opened, though it was usually one of the regular customers stopping in for a meal or a guard to get a quick drink before leaving again. It was a pretty slow day, if the innkeeper's mood was any indication.
    That was fine with him, too. He practically lived here, so no one really noticed if he was here or not anyways.
    After an hour or two he set down the books, running a hand through his messy black hair and sighing. He did appreciate the fact that he had been allowed to stay here so long, with the farm gone and all, but there was only so much to do around Whiterun. He hated to say it, but... it was getting a bit boring.
    That was unusual, for Linis to be bored. He was perfectly fine with staying here, he really was. He hardly even dared to travel outside of Whiterun, too nervous about the dangers outside the city walls to actually leave. Oh, he was certain he could handle things like wolves, maybe even bears, but he wasn't too keen on the whole idea of killing other people, bandits or otherwise.
    There was also the whole dragons thing. That put a damper on the idea.
    After a few minutes lost in troubled thought, he picked up the Accord of Madness he had been reading, shaking away his thoughts. It was too early for this kind of thinking, anyways.


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    [size=6pt]THE UNIVERSE IS HOSTILE AND SO IMPERSONAL WE DEVOUR TO SURVIVE &x& SO IT IS AND ALWAYS WILL BE[/size]


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    Blood always leaves a trail.




    He twisted the cork on the vial and tipped his head back, forcing himself to swallow a few drops of Minor Healing. The sickly sweet odor was already unappealing, the kind of disgust that instinctively raised the tentacles from his face, not to mention gagging on its aftertaste. One forelimb wiped the substance off his gums, the other quickly trapping any last drops before sticking it back under the folds of his cloak. All in order to get the putrid symbol of purity out of his sight, but the damage had been done, and now he was almost entirely numb.




    At least he could open all twelve of his eyes. He hadn't been able to before. The effects of a prolonged stay, he hypothesized, was slowly ridding his body of all sensory equipment, starting with the most valuable to him - sight. The mountain was a bizzare image of whites and greys among blurry tunnelous shapes, the kind of symbols he was used to seeing in a forbidden book rather than on the slopes of Akatosh's domain. He could believe it was the workings of the Minor Healing for awhile, but there was no other evidence to rapt his attention for long. No, he had heard of the Dragon's coming, and with it, like him, corruption would spread across the land.




    The least he could do was find a way out.




    His breath came in shallow puffs as he tasted the sangurine leftovers of mortal magic on his tongue. Magic, in any other circumstance, he would call petty or a mere parlor trick was all he had left now. He drank it, crafted it, and searched for it across all of Skyrim, and here he held it, all two small capsules left of it. He had made a miscalculation, had errored in some way, that he could not cast any of his own inherent power at full capacity, and that had damaged him greatly. When inhaled, he could smell the rot of his arms, the death-smell clinging to his ragged clothes. Even the frost cannot cover the smell of blood.




    And there was blood, just beyond the horizon. He'd been sensing it since he'd stepped foot on this lonesome mountain.




    Praxiphanes approached the cave now, summoning his magic to cast a soft light from one hand. It tinged the edges of the mouth of the cave in green, and he stood in the face of the abyssmal dark, listening to the soft scratching, the sounds of movement coming from inside.




    His mind was enraptured, and his curiousities compelled him to enter.







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    Cyalar's ears motioned toward the new creature. The aura of this new comer gave the khajiit a not so warm welcoming. The air was tense, and soon she became tense. Her eyes let her see in the dark and all she saw was a grotesque figure approaching. She casted a invisibility spell and pulled out her bow and drew the arrow back off of the elastic string. She didn't breathe much as everything grew still.

    Draco sat hunched in the dark, quietly watching the other figures from above with interest. He recently got a contract to kill a vampire, but he was probably going to back out now, knowing it was a woman. And a beautiful one at that. But he still wanted to trail her for a little longer, and see what she was up to.


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    [size=6pt]THE UNIVERSE IS HOSTILE AND SO IMPERSONAL WE DEVOUR TO SURVIVE &x& SO IT IS AND ALWAYS WILL BE[/size]


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    [fancypost bgcolor=#E6C973; border: 0px dashed white; width: 250px; height: 220px; margin-top: 10px; margin-left: 20px; text-align: right; color: #5F4353; overflow: auto; box-shadow: 5px 5px 5px #000000][font=times new roman]notes: Interesting introduction Soul~




    And here's an idea of what Praxiphanes sounds like;
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    Grotesque; An apt word to describe his current condition. The flickering green of his meager spell, the weak wisps of magical energy curling upwards from his fingertips, all of it was the best he could do until the Minor Healing truly worked its - ahem - alleged magic. He climbed, his tendrils pushing and curling around the onyx rocks, until he was at least a limb's distance from the cold. A sound, like thunder, boomed in the distance. Wind cradled his side, and he sunk deeper into the darkness.




    Snow crystals clung to his robe, and his secondary limbs worked to shake the fragments of the outside world off from his person. He shivered, almost considered using the light to start a fire. It would be an inefficient move - when the sun fully rose he could bask in it until his flesh nearly cooked. So for now, he focused on the green, the blood, and of course the body strewn out in the middle of the floor.




    Not the first time he'd witnessed a mortal cadaver. Certainly not the last. It was a dessicated shell, a crippled mummy with tattered cloth haphazardly thrown about its ribs and pelvis. Dry as bone, two teared gashes seeping red-black from the throat. An image constructed itself in his mind of the creature; A large animal, with large bloody teeth.




    Praxiphanes shut his eyes, tightly, knotting his brow. He crouched next to the corpse, motioned his hand over its face, peering into its eye sockets. The Mortal Plane held many creatures, and he was obligated to associate himself with every single one of them, lest he never get the chance to again. They were trivial, flimsy things, but he could risk admitting their variety was staggering for a species so young and fruitless. They were insignificant, but then they were detailed.




    ...The air stirred and he raised his eyes. A sickly scent wafted up to greet him.




    "Release your disguise, Infected-One," He lifted the green light from the mortal's shell, all twelve sets of eyes gazed in the other being's direction. "You may reveal yourself to me."




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    The post was edited 1 time, last by ｆｒａｐｐｕｃｃｉｎｏ. ().

    Ooc: WHOA, watched the video... And now I must fix my post lol


    Her eyes gazed up on this new creature. When it spoke, it's voice was dark and harsh. It made cyalar decide to withdraw her bow, mostly out of fear. But she had a clue on this creatures identity. Once she saw the details on the figure..she had guessed it. A daedra, no doubt about it. She had heard of the tales that was told to the cubs of her kind, to scare them. And keep them from trouble. But that was stories....this was the real thing. She exhaled from her lungs from the air she had held in to keep her bow still. Her spell disapated, and she was visible. She let down her bow, and put the arrow in her quiver. But she still stayed crouched down. Tension built up in the khajiit. Her tail waved side to side as she grew nervous. "W-what is it t-th....that you want" question the cat as she held her ground.

    The post was edited 1 time, last by Misschoatic ().

    Draco looked at the Dedra with mild interest, but he was still wary in case he posed a threat. He wasn't scared of them, the dark brotherhood summon them all the time to make deals and other matters. For now, he was content to watch and listen.


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    Infected-One emerged from the darkness, and he lifted the light higher, until he saw the felid clearly. She was a complex mixture of beast and woman, a primitive face covered in fur, glimmering grey-green in the glow of his enchantment. Her features were pallid; Fangs, especially ones so long, were hard to shield away from his hand, and the slim pupils of the cat contracted immediately to the presence of anything other than abyssmal black. Praxiphanes studied, observed, quickly memorized it for later recording. A diseased example was usable for the time being. It irked him, thinking like that. If he had the choice, he would have searched for a better specimen to remember. But time was short, and this was the first mortal he had seen up close. To let it be recorded should be regarded as an honor.




    He stood fully, an immense mass of tendrils and flesh. To take control of the situation, even with only a dagger in hand, was critical. His gnarled fingers squeezed the hilt, pressing the metal into the palm of his hands. "You are contaminated; The shadow of death hangs over your form. This being, slain for your sustained vitality." He remarked in the same, flat, harsh tone she had heard before. His throat felt prickly, painful. He had to pause, concentrate. "You hide here, to escape the wrath of mortal beings. And thus you are alone."




    It was a statement, not a question, and not entirely truthful. Someone else was here, though Praxiphanes did not divulge it. Instead, the Daedra's head moved, searching the room. He had to crane his thin body to see the walls, the floor, where only dark stone and the edges of snow pooled in from outside. No fire. No source of heat. The sun dared not to creep out from the gloomy skies. For a moment, all was still.




    Then, with a sudden spasm, he threw the light towards the ground. And though it only produced an unnaturally small flame, supported by rudimentary twigs and stray pieces of corpse-flesh, it would have to do. He crouched low again, his palms outstretched to the spark. In the reflection of the outside blizzard and the tiny green fire, he looked like a hermit crab - a very unearthly, creepy hermit crab. He casted another glance to the Infected-One.




    "Therefore, you may provide me accommodation."




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    The post was edited 1 time, last by ｆｒａｐｐｕｃｃｉｎｏ. ().

    Cyalar winced, as the flame that had appeared gave her a unsettling feeling. But she say down, away from the fire. And away from the daedra. She place her bow down gently and stayed still. Curious, but very cautious. The wind blowed into the gave, making the fire dance toward the khajiit. But she also caught a scent, a male scent, same race. But she couldn't do much now, she wasn't ready for attacker, or anything in that matter. The daedra kept her still. And this was not a great position for her. She wanted to question the daedra but didn't know how to. Instead she stared down the creature, investigating all it's details.


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    [size=6pt]THE UNIVERSE IS HOSTILE AND SO IMPERSONAL WE DEVOUR TO SURVIVE &x& SO IT IS AND ALWAYS WILL BE[/size]


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px dashed white; width: 170px; height: 270px; margin-top: 10px; box-shadow: 5px 5px 5px #000000; background:url('http://i.imgur.com/kNW3Ebg.jpg');] [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px dashed white; width: 300px; margin-top: 20px; margin-left: 20px; font-family: calibri; color: black; font-size: 7pt; letter-spacing: 3px]DEFINING, CONFINING CONTROLLING, AND WE'RE SINKING DEEPER[/fancypost]
    [fancypost bgcolor=#E6C973; border: 0px dashed white; width: 250px; height: 220px; margin-top: 10px; margin-left: 20px; text-align: right; color: #5F4353; overflow: auto; box-shadow: 5px 5px 5px #000000][font=times new roman]notes: Not my best post. It's around 1:30 where I currently am, and this is my last post before I retire to bed.
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    And the Daedra settled.




    He sat, a profile of long tentacles and shreds of cloth, picking at the ebony blade and listening to the howling frost outside. Plumes of white mist flew in from the open maw, and the flame quivered, even when he cupped his palm over it. When it passed, he allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the cave, to pick out the details of onyx, the subtle shades of filtered reflections, light shimmering on glazed gemstone. The Minor Healing potion had left a sickening aftertaste in his maw, his facial tendrils squriming as if repulsed by the fluid. He'd endure it, as he endured all things. Even the hidden assailant in the shadows would have to reveal itself, in the end.




    They were both quiet, both sensing it. The air - tense. The silence - prolonged. Patience was the best outcome, if not the most efficient. He would gamble with chance. Still, his fingers were taught on the hilt of the orc blade. His many limbs felt numb, whether the electricity in the air, the frost outside or the Minor Healing seeping through his stomach caused it he decided to leave unanswered.




    For now it was settled. The Infected One would be spared, her fate determined in the palms of the new-comer. It would be up to her whether or not the assailant meant ill fortune. Such things like a sickly creature's fate were unsatisfying to him, and nature would run its course.




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    Cyalar watched as the daedra left, it didn't answer her question. But she had many questions to ask anyways. Once she saw he was out of site, she got up and kicked the snow at the fire, putting it out. The wind had blown in, and then she smelled the scent of the newcomer. And quickly grabbed her bow and her satchel of gold. Daggers at her side, and the quiver of arrows and the bow on her back. Time for a new location. She bolted out of the cave, hopped over the builders and landed on the ground. She rolled as she landed, and once her feet touched the ground she was running again.

    Sole sighed "this is troublesome. Seems like they noticed me..." He thought to himself, before jumping out of the cave himself, landing gracefully in the snow. "Alright... If she wants to run, then I'll give chase. Let's see what this vampiress can do." He mumbled, before whistling for shadowmere (his horsy that glows black with love :3 ) when his steed came, he jumped on him quickly and bolted after her. He was quickly catching up to her as he coated his dagger with a strong paralyzing venom.

    Cyalar looked back, the horse was faster then her. She had to be quick, and smart. She slide under a branch, she got up gracefully. And bolted, her tail keeper her balance. She then pulled out her to daggers and jumped, sticking them into a branch in a tree above, she flipped around the branch, using the daggers for support. And she landed feet first on the branch and jumped from branch to branch getting farther and farther.

    Draco laughed "well, your a graceful one, aren't you? Let's make this a game of tag shall we? I'm it." He said jokingly, as he jumped off of shadowmere and into the trees. He landed on a branch and began to jump after her with his dagger ready.

    Cyalar scoffed she put the daggers away and her hand glowed with a blue light as frost formed around her hand. She shot a frost rune at one of the trees behind her, hoping to slow her chaser down. She then landed on a snowy slope and slide down before jumping off of it and landed on the ground before she ran some more.

    Draco chuckled as he saw her throw a spell of some kind. But he wasn't expecting a rune, and barely had time to dodge the attack before it detonated, sending ice shards everywhere. "Almost, but not good enough!" He called to her, before jumping and sliding down after her. When he reached even ground he jumped back onto shadowmere and rode after her again.

    Cyalar sighed. And jumped from rock to tree, to the ground. She was quicker then her chaser. But once on that horse, she was no match for that speed. But she had her wits with her, and that was her special skill. She grabbed a arrow and pulled her bow out, and jumped back. All in this quick motion. She aimed her bow and shot the horses foreleg making it lose balance and fall. Cyalar landed on her back and she tumbled backwards. She caught herself on her feet and slid back only a couple feet, before she put the bow away, and used her claws to stop her before she fell off the cliff. The enormous fall behind her.

    Draco cursed and dived forward off of his steed, before rolling forward and instantly jumping up and slashing her arm with the knife. "Tag... Your it." He said, as the paralyzing venom began to take effect.