Posts by Mosspath12

Sure thing!

http://warriorcatsrpg.com/inde…6.msg58030192#msg58030192
There it is ^

The worst part about Skyrim, Tabitha thought as she carefully steered her horse over the peak of the mountain, was the weather. Hands down. She pulled her hood further down over her face to the point she could barely see under it, huffing and watching her breath appear in the cold air. Even Solstheim was warmer than here. Morrowind was probably even warmer, but Morrowind was also inhabitable thanks to the Baar Dau incident. Why couldn't her family have just moved to somewhere like Cyrodiil?
The young Guildmaster practically sighed in relief as she and her horse came down the other side of the mountain, away from the awful wind and snow- though the snow didn't even hit the ground, it was so busy being blown into her face- pulling down the hood of her cloak and brushing strands of her black hair out of her face. It was a good thing she wasn't wearing her Thieve's Guild armor, she reflected, glancing back at the mountain. Bandits tended to flock to her like flies to honey when she did, even if it did keep the thieves away. She did give a glance warily at the tower she was approached, though it appeared to be empty, which was a blessing. All she had on her was a dagger and she didn't feel like taking on a group of bandits at the moment. Mostly she wanted to sleep, or throw herself into a fire. Whichever was warmer, actually.
Tabitha had almost cleared the tower a disembodied voice spoke up, causing her to flinch out of surprise. The voice soon gained a body to go along with it, stepping out of the shadows with an arrow pointed straight at her.
The Dunmer stared down at the tip of the arrow, following it with her eyes until they trailed to look at the bandit's face, one eyebrow raised. "Toll road, hm? Is that what they're calling it now?" She snorted. "Cute." In one fluid motion she swung herself off her horse, hands raised to show she meant no harm, holding the horse's reigns in one fist. "You seem the civilized sort, surely you can let me pass without payment," she said in a honeyed tone. "Besides," she added off-handedly. "I'm more than certain I can't afford your toll, anyways. How disappointing."

Tabitha peered around the man's shoulder to glance at the Khajiit, hands still raised innocently. "Just a friendly conversation," she said in a chipper tone. "Or," she reflected, turning back to Raiza, "we aren't killing each other, yet. That's about as friendly as you bandits get though, isn't it?" She smirked. Although she couldn't say her little group back in Riften was much better.
She slowly pulled aside her cloak, reaching for her dagger and cutting the string of the pouch of coins that hung from her belt, tossing the dagger aside in one quick motion. "Alright," she sighed, counting out 20 septims holding them out with one hand, "you win. I'll pay, no trouble necessary."

[That'd be rad!]

"I'm going, I'm going," Tabitha insisted, turning and grabbing her dagger up from the ground, slipping it back into its sheath on her belt. She mounted the horse, pulling her hood back up over her head as she nudged the horse to continue on the path. She cast a glance back at the tower as she rode away from it, shaking her head. Bandits. Good for nothing. Less honor than thieves, if such a thing was possible.

The road to Riften was long, Tabitha thought, but at least it was warmer now. Slightly. One could never really call Skyrim warm. Better than up near Winterhold, at least. By the Eight, if she ever had to go there again she would probably throw herself off the top of the College. She fell into a sort of mechanical process after a while, following the path at a moderate pace, not really watching where she was going. It was, after all, a pretty long way to Riften, and she did have a lot to think about.

Name; August Graham
Age; 17
Apperence; [img width=510 height=356]http://farm9.staticflickr.com/…49383536_2b838edfd0_o.jpg[/img]
Personality; Can get annoying because he tries to joke around and make light of situations. Doesn't take things seriously sometimes, but is very dedicated to his cause and protective of the people he likes. Gets flustered easily and even though he's a terrible flirt he usually means nothing by it- you can tell when he's serious because he blushes like mad. Has 3 stings on his left shoulder, that's all thus far.
Defender/Healer/Leader; Defender

August lingered by the window for a few seconds longer, eyes narrowed to study the sky outside. "Yeah, alright," he said finally, jogging over and snatching some armor off the wall. He was hoping there would have been a longer stretch without another swarm, but that was a stupid thing to hope for, anyways. There certainly didn't seem to be a permanent end in sight.

"I'm hurrying, no worries," August called, quickly tightening his armor over his outfit and slinging his weapon over his shoulder, back-handing a few bees that had made it into the hallway already. "I always forget how fast these suckers are," he muttered, mostly to himself, knocking bees away that were heading towards the group rushing to the basement. "We haven't got all day, y'know," he called, motioning with his arms to wave them down towards the basement steps. He jogged over to Isabella, ducking under a small group of bees and smashing them with his weapon, rolling his neck. "Having fun?" He asked her, grinning sarcastically.

Distracted by assisting people to the basement, August didn't even notice anything had happened until she shouted at him, doing a double take as she hit the floor. Doing a double-take, August glanced down the hall to make sure the majority was heading down the stairs before running over to Isabelle, dragging her to the top of the steps and cutting a path through the swarm in the air with his weapon. "Everybody, downstairs, now! You won't get another shot," he warned. They had to close off the basement soon or the swarm would get down before they did.

Name: Zephyr Johnson
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Appearance: Curly light blonde hair and pale skin with lots of freckles. Very tall and rather lanky, bright blue eyes.
Personality: Very easygoing and light-hearted, makes a lot of jokes. Genuinely cares about people and can be a bit of a flirt, but doesn't mean most of it. Loyal and protective of those he loves, and you can tell if he actually loves someone because he blushes a lot when he's embarrassed.
Power: Control over wind
Weapon: Uses a long wooden staff that's pointed at the end, helps him balance as well as direct the wind (and generally control his power). Not much good for actual fighting, but good for defending.
History: Grew up practically raising his younger sister because his Mom was always out working after a divorce with his dad when he was 8. When he discovered he had powers when he was 14 he ran away, as his sister was old enough to take care of herself and he didn't want to hurt his family.
Other: silver frost

Youtube links wouldn't work, so I just put them down as URLs, if that's alright.
Also, put them as spoilers to avoid taking up the entire page with forms

Name: Casnia Elmlock
Race: Bosmer
Gender: Female
Appearance: Long black hair tied back in a high ponytail, and dark tan skin like most bosmer. Slanted eyes that are almost completely black with brown iris'. Very short and rather average weight.
Weapons: Hunting bow and iron arrows
Armor: Hide or leather armor, whichever is available.
Class: Agent
Spells: Charm and Command Creature

Marshal turned up the collar of his jacket, cramming his hands into his pockets and kicking at rocks as he walked briskly down the street, glancing behind himself every so often to check if he was being followed and to assure himself that he still had his staff on his back. It wasn't like he was doing anything terribly suspicious, but you could never be too careful. He wasn't sure where he was aiming to go, but he was certain he didn't want anyone to follow him there, in any case. Unless it was outside, he reminded himself, which it probably would be. Not that that was entirely bad, but it definitely wasn't great.
Sleeping outside is great, he replayed those words in his head, snorting at his own thoughts. Well, there's one way to tell you're in too deep.

Marshal debated for a split second before ducking down into an alley, somewhat picking up the pace out of some sort of fear. Alleys were supposed to be unsettling, that was probably their purpose. If he had to take a guess, anyways.
Just when he was debating what the purpose behind the creepiness of alleys even was, there was a clanging sound behind him and he jumped about a foot in the air, not even bothering to turn around. Someone trying to scare him, maybe. Just keep walking, he told himself, but he was stopped after just a few feet by a voice.
Marshal turned around to be greeted by someone wiping literal trash off of themselves. Stunned into silence by the sudden appearance, he listened to the bombardment of questions she assaulted him with, one eyebrow raised.
After a moment or two of silence (which mostly stemmed from Marshal trying to piece together what she had even asked), he slowly stuck out his hand. "Let's try this again," he suggested. "Hi, I'm Marshal." The questions could wait, or be avoided entirely, if he was so fortunate. First impressions meant a lot, honestly. Usually meant the distance between an ally and a knife in your back, which was pretty valuable to him. He was silent for another second or two before adding, "I can't help but notice you're covered in trash."
Great. Great conversation starter. Nice job.

"Right," Marshal drew the word out, one eyebrow still raised as if it were trying to ascend off of his face. "Watch your step next time, perhaps." He paused. "Or your fall, I should say," he added at a poor attempt at a joke. Joking really wasn't his strength, he remembered, cringing inwardly. Maybe if you tried speaking in something other than monotone, he cursed himself out in his thoughts. But voices betrayed a lot of emotion, and he wasn't even certain if this girl could be trusted. Or if she was even a Rebel. That might have been a good thing to find out first, now that he thought of it.
He glanced down as his hand as she dropped it, having totally forgotten she had even grabbed it to shake it. He retreated it back quickly, awkwardly rubbing it. "Nice meeting you, Junette," Marshal began, taking a couple slow steps backwards, "but I have places to do and... things to be," he trailed off. Stupid. Stupid excuse. Horrible lying. Awful. Awfully suspicious, he mourned silently. Might as well wear a sign around my neck that screams 'Rebel here!', even that's more inconspicuous than this. He could at least be grateful his tattoo was covered, he thought gratefully as he turned to leave. Find a new place to hide for the rest of his life. If she wasn't a Rebel, no doubt the entire world would be looking for him at this rate. Idiot. Suspicious idiot.

Frustrated, but without many other options, Chell looked down to the floor, tapping a foot impatiently. She wasn't even sure why, but this place made her constantly rush. Maybe it was the threat of dying at any given second.
She wasn't sure there was a way to leave without completing this test- if it could even be called that- in any case. So she complied. For the moment.

Marshal whirled around again as a loud noise resounded through the area, cursing under his breath and scrambling over to a ladder, climbing up and crouching on the edge of one of the building's roofs. Fantastic. There were certainly worse places to be caught during a mob; strategically speaking, they could probably defend the alley pretty decently, but it was still a much better chance of survival to just avoid the mob in the first place. He glanced to the sky. And his falcon was still out scouting. Even better.

(I've got finals the next couple weeks, so I probably won't be on that often until they're over)

[Aaaah sorry, but I've been busy with finals and surgery and various other things, so I think I'll have to quit this thread. Sorry!]

Since I left most of the threads I was in previously due to being busy I guess it's about time I found some new threads to join so herewego

Username: Pandorica
Name: Kimberly [Kim] Brown
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Outfit: A dark green tank top and a brown leather bomber jacket. Wears dark jeans with brown combat boots. Has two belts strapped around her waist with a variety of pouches attached to them, which she collects ammo, coins, and other various small things in (a hobby/habit she has). Wears her hair back in a braid but is thinking of cutting it off into a short pixie style cut.
Personality: Very determined and assertive, with a fiery temper and a sharp tongue to match. Doesn't really know when to stay quiet or when to step down, either, and is awful at verbal debates because she gets worked up so easily. Because of this she's really childish, even though she's an adult. Most of her toughness is actually just an act, she's really terrified of basically everything and doesn't handle most situations well. If she really needs to she can step up and handle things on her own, though, which is what she's been doing recently. She mostly hasn't joined with any of the groups just because she's stubborn- really she just figures if she can get a small group together she'll be set. Not a very effective leader, but can be bossy. Doesn't get along well with others and hates being picked on (mostly it's due to her height when she is- she's only around 5'3").
History: Traveled with her parents in a Nomad for most of the time before the Nomad was forced to split up due to various reasons- people dying, shortages of supplies, people getting lost, etc. Those few remaining decided to try and trek on, though there were only 4 or so of them left at that point. Her parents refused to leave and tried to get her to stay with them, but Kim, knowing that the Nomad wouldn't survive for very long in its current state, decided to leave. Her parents didn't come with her. She doesn't regret leaving, but she does feel guilty knowing they're most likely dead. However, she also understands that she has to put her own survival first.
Group: Loner, trying mostly to fly under the radar of everybody since she doesn't particularly support either group.
Weapon/Defense, if any: Just a pocket knife, but knows enough about hand-to-hand combat to potentially do decently in a fight if it came to that. Knows how to shoot a pistol but doesn't happen to own one.
Companion?: None.
Other: BabeCow