Skyrim (RP Thread)

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    ooc: wagons and shit, normal opening



    ic: Wagons slowly made their way towards the huge stone towers of the Imperial settlement, Helgen. Falura sat in one, eyes narrowed in a constant glower. She shivered in the freezing air and huddled against herself in the corner of the wagon.


    Irelia was on her porch, leaning against the rail. Her parents, both alchemists, had gone on an ingredient gathering excursion in Cyrodiil.

    khajiit12e_by_temiree-d8av0jz.jpg

    KENAI || DOVAHKIIN

    action "speaking" thinking

    The khajiit remained quiet on the trip. He looked down at his chains, his beastly eyes trailing off before he felt a small but, that make him snap back into reality. He had been caught by the Imperials, for a small theft and was going to be put to death. Pretty pathetic if you asked him, but what could he do? At the first chance he had, he'd try and escape in hopes to join the Stormcloaks. He hadn't liked the stupid Imperials anyways.



    the_sultry_argonian_bard___my_version_by_galoogamelady-d5qfgq4.jpg

    GALEON || DARK BROTHERHOOD ASSASSIN

    action "speaking" thinking

    Galeon was sitting in the sanctuary, doing pull ups on a stable bar, before he dropped down to the floor. He rummaged through his things, finding a bow, and many iron tipped arrows, before he pulled back on the string, aiming at a dummy. He missed the first one, just barely, but the second one his the dummy right where the heart would have been.

    Tor'Kuul

    Tor'kuul was five seconds from snapping his puny bindings in two and splitting every Imperial Soldier within a ten-mile radius in half. The sheer, brooding fury on his face, tattered with light scars, showed such anger. But in truth, He knew well not much would accompany his escape other than his death. He was bound to be shot to the ground by inevitable hails of arrows. And thus, he decided he'd be better off sitting, grumbling, and waiting. He took in his surroundings, looking over the faces of his fellow captives in the carts and trying his best not to unleash a flurry of obscenities at the cart driver. Such a poor day to be in a bad mood, it seemed!

    As soon as Lokir, the dirty Nord thief began to open his mouth, Falura's head whipped around. "Don't say a thing, Lokir." She snapped. "But we shouldn't be here!" He returned. "My pride has been damaged enough. You'd feel the same if you had any to begin with. Now shut your mouth and bear this with at least a shred of dignity, which I know is a lot to ask, considering the way we were captured and you shoving me directly into the guards in an attempt to save yourself." The Dunmer's eyes blazed, and she panted a tiny bit, having taken few breaths during her little rant. Cooling off now, she huffed and turned to stare into the trees again, and Lokir looked startled and wounded.

    Alaraya tried her hardest to ignore everyone else on the cart, but Fenrorn's sobbing was way too hard to ignore. She scooted closer to him, with what her bound hands could allow, and started to speak softly to him. "Hush, now," she said, "It's alright."

    The small Nord was able to to calm down with the help of his new furry friend, and was able to stop crying enough to be able to speak. "I'm not even supposed to be here..." he trailed off, tears welling up in his eyes once again. Elaraya sighed and chimed in, "Honey, there's nothing to be afraid of. I promise."

    khajiit12e_by_temiree-d8av0jz.jpg

    KENAI || DOVAHKIIN

    action "speaking" thinking

    Kenai lifted his head; breaking his silence; eyes narrowed slightly. "You are with the stormcloaks? In the off chance that we survive, you will be seeing a lot more of me. I wish to join." He stated, quietly so the guards hadn't heard him. They'd off him, quicker, if they heard he was to join the rebellion. His tongue drew over his muzzle, before he looked back down at his binds, itching to just break them with his claws, but he couldn't quite reach them. And even if he would, that is a lot more trouble than what was necessary.



    the_sultry_argonian_bard___my_version_by_galoogamelady-d5qfgq4.jpg

    GALEON || DARK BROTHERHOOD ASSASSIN

    action "speaking" thinking

    Open for interaction. Inside the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary.

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

    Falura scoffed. "I am not a Stormcloak. Nor am I with the High Elves. Bastards, both of them." She glared daggers at the other wagons. "They do not care for my people. They don't care for non-Nords. I do not know if you've ever been to the Gray Quarter, but that should further why I am not a Stormcloak." Her voice was full of poison.

    EINAR | MALE | LONER

    The Dark Brotherhood, a group and guild of assassins known for their considerable skill in murder and their influence on the history of Skyrim. Not many people are able to join the Dark Brotherhood, nor witness any of the members and live for that matter. For those who have joined though, they usually join for the purpose of jobs or just murder in general. No one know where these formidable assassins remain in Skyrim, and no one has ever caught one of these assassins either.


    Einar was one of these many assassins of the Dark Brotherhood, though had seen himself more as just a mercenary for the leaders use. So long as he was paid for the jobs he did, he wouldn't bat an eye at what she asked of him. The large man himself sighed as he returned from a job assigned to him, to kill a man in Falkreath nearby. It hadn't taken him very long of course. Just an arrow to the throat, and the man was as dead the corpse of the Night Mother.


    The large man made his way down the stone steps, his leather boots hitting roughly against the stone. His gaze, bleak, lifeless, and uncaring, with a hood over his head and a mask over his face. The deed has been done, and later, once he had cleaned his weapons of the blood of his targets, would report to the boss on the completed contracts.