Name: Baladas Venym
Age: 201
Gender: Male
Race: Dunmer

Appearance: Tall, slim, with darker skin than the typical Dunmer, and the angular features and crimson eyes of his race. His nose is arched crooked from repeated breaks, and his face marked by numerous scars, the most prominent of which travels from his hairline to his chin on the left side of his face, notching his lip. He has a trim, short goatee, and shoulder length black hair streaked with grey. He usually wears a weather beaten, dark red robe and travel cloak the Telvanni style.

Personality: Unusual for Dunmer and sorcerers alike, Venym is cordial and personable, an person of such endless verbosity that he frequently comes across as slightly unhinged. He has a sharp sense of humor, an encyclopedic knowledge of lore and literature, and is possessed of an almost childlike fascination with the world. He has always been a restless scholar with a taste for danger, curious and cerebral, but unwilling to spend his life in a dank library or cloistered in a fungus-tower. While he regularly courts death and is no coward, Venym is driven primarily by the desire to attain immortality. He is egocentric, arrogant, and supremely-often insanely-self confident, but at the same time has a genuine interest in other people and loves a good story and conversation. These contrasting traits make for a somewhat inconsistent character, by turns ruthless, irritable and self centered or generous and hilarious.

History:



Skills: Venym is a mage, accomplished in destruction and alteration. His primary scholarly interest is in necromancy and daedric magic, and he is most skilled at conjuration. Several lifetimes worth of experience in wandering Tamriel have made him a canny adventurer, with quick wits and basic survival skills in the wild.

Equipment:
Dunmer robes in the Telvanni style, worn by many years of travel.
An amulet of silver and volcanic glass, enchanted
A plain wooden staff, engraved with Telvanni sigils.
Hunting knife.

Birthsign: The Apprentice

Misc: Venym is primarily interested in this expedition as an opportunity to study Nordic draugr and the arts of ancient nordic necromancy.

Marne.

Name: K'Joor

Nickname: Darkling

Age: 19 Human Years (92 Cat years)

Gender: Male

Race: Khajiit

Appearance: K'Joor has a dark shade of fur, one resembling coal, with hints of white and grey placed in random spots around his face and body. He has quite a tall stance, although short in height. His eyes a neutral yellow color, the pupil slotted upwards thinly. It has spikes of black looking toward the pupil. His hair consists of his ears, poking up high and held there by two feathers and rings, showing a somewhat ridiculous but interesting look.

A skinny appearance shows him not one to fight, although, beneath his clothing and armor, his body isn't chiseled, but yet is still quite stout. His arms are rather bulky for his figure and yet they still manage to keep his body in proportion.

Personality: He is quite a cautious cat, not one to jump on an opportunity that seems much too good to be true. He seems to be suspicious of everyone, but still trusts their judgement. He never is usually at the front of the group, tending to sneak around behind them, or hide in their cover, be it magic or sword. He has always had a hatred for Skooma, and those who drink it, But he will put personality first if need be.

History: K'Joor, a premature, small Kitty, was named after his great-grandfather, K'Joor the Sovereign. No-one really knew what he was the Sovereign of, But none the less. K'Joor was always a thief, from the day he turned 8 he had already stolen cupcakes, fruit, and other foods from stalls. He would grow up half his time in the jails, half his time stealing with friends. That was until they got into the skooma trade. They offered him the trade, which he constantly refused. This method caused him to be hushed out of the group, little by little.

K'Joor, Age 18, He was the towns known thief, quite literally outcast by everyone but his family, who suggested they move to a new town, a restart. K'Joor was quick to jump on this opportunity, having his things packed the night they offered to leave. Only hours afterwards were they on carriage to a new land, Cyrodiil. This journey was long and tedious in K'Joor's mind, due to having to sit about and do nothing for near days on end, it had softened him up by the time they made it to the border. But as they made through to the border, K'Joor felt a breath of fresh air, For a while at least.

K'Joor, Age 24, He had been working a job for the local thieves guild. Where he had been working for money for the past few years. He headed home, where he found it to be empty "Sister? Brother? Father? Mother-" he would then be interrupted by his mother, screaming out and running toward the door, a strange man in crimson armor with a crimson colored weapon, speeding behind her, digging it up into her back, and out her chest, blood spilling out, and projecting half way across the room, K'Joor, stunned but angered, would bolt forward, letting out an angry scream, as he brandished his dagger, and tried to stab the man that killed his mother, The dagger missing, and the man slashing across K'Joor's stomach, only lightly, but enough to leave a scar.

K'Joor, Age 28, He received news that his family were being held hostage at a fort on the outskirts of Skyrim, And requested 100,000 gold for their rescue. K'Joor eager to get his family back, quickly pounced on the opportunity, taking the first carriage to Skyrim, and beginning his unholy quest of stealing, and not returning the favor. He would quickly head into River-wood, finding a job to get back a 'Golden Claw', which had already been taken by another adventurer in the end, but he still made around 400 gold from looting the caskets and other things.

K'Joor, Age 34, Finding a group of adventurers, planning large heists in the dungeons of Skyrim for gold and fortune, he would seek them out, and begin planning their first large heist, a dungeon right on the outskirts of Skyrim. And that's where the real story begins.

Skills:
He is a basic light weaponry user (Daggers/Short-swords) And has a naturally affinity for sneaking around, and using a bow. He has gotten use to the feeling of light armor, using it primarily, over heavy armors. He has very keen senses, being a Khajiit. And a horrible understanding of Magicka.

Equipment:
Basic Leather Armor set (Condition: Fine)
x2 Steel Daggers
x5 Basic Healing Potions
x1 Long Bow
x75 Iron Arrows

Birth-sign: The Thief

Miscellaneous:
This is my first Advanced RP. I hope it's okay. River Marne, Btw, Beautiful place.

Name: Ungimros
Age: 120
Gender: Male
Race: Bosmer - Wood Elf

Appearance:

To humans, apparently around thirty in age. Skin roughly the brown of a dead leaf, eyes with large pupils and dark irises, and bear-black hair. His beard and mustache are thin and trimmed, but not styled, and he has hair to the base of his neck, all wild but for two braids used to keep it out of his eyes.

He is not an ugly man, but not good-looking, and reinforces this with the rest of his unconcerned appearance. His hide armor seems to be composed of at least four creatures, and none of his leather-ware matches in dye, style, or quality.

Personality:

Marne-y. As long as he’s mobile, Ungimros is cheerful, competitive, and carefree. He’s also irresponsible in the extreme, and as often as he can keep himself, callous with other people’s lives and futures. He tries keep unattached from people or places, but makes an effort to enjoy them while they present themselves. He becomes anxious without change or excitement for too long, and will seek to create some if he perceives himself trapped on some capacity.

He's not particularly involved with Bosmeri culture, and is a bit loose regarding the Green Pact he grew up with. He avoids eating plants as he was conditioned to, but isn't opposed to them as spices. He also allows himself some leniency on eating every one of his kills, due in part to his itinerancy and adventuring tendencies. Rather than consuming as much of his kills as possible, Ungimros will typically take a sample, unless he genuinely needs the meal.

History:

Ungimros was mobile and active from a very young age; always running, swimming, climbing, and playing with shortbows, but in his childhood, he had several friends, some of them quite close. They grew up in a quite traditional village, where most families held to the Green Pact; only a few Bosmer families and the village's three Orc families did not. For the most part, this was never a problem, aside from how traditionalists looked down on those less so.

When Ungimros was of an age comparable to a human preteen, an incident occurred which was pivotal in his personal development. He got into a conflict with a close friend, over a girl, which devolved into a tumble on the forest floor. By accident, a punch sent the other boy's head to smack against a sharp rock. The wound was immediately dark and bloody, but Ungimros had never learned any healing magic from the village. By the time he'd carried his friend back, very tired and soaked in blood not his, it was too late. His family and the other boy's being strict traditionalists, it was made clear to Ungimros that he was not to waste the new source of meat, lest he dishonor himself and his dead friend.

The emotional difficulty of eating a good friend caused Ungimros to stop making and keeping good friends, and as soon as it was feasible, he left his village, to wander the rest of Valenwood, where there would be no family to oblige him to be strict regarding the Green Pact, and no friends to make him feel the way he had when following it. This was his mode for a few decades, and he became a competent hunter. But while hunting kept him fed, that was about all it did in Valenwood, where the career was densely saturated.

A more rewarding sort of work, he found, was bounty hunting plant-poachers near the (recently diminished) edges of Valenwood. Mostly these people were Khajiit, but various other sorts could be found trying to take flora from Valenwood. The jobs, while exciting and decently rewarding, were few. Ungimros went looking for similar experiences over the years, with a theme of adventure eventually making itself clear. Almost a decade into this, he wandered north, finding an Ayleid ruin tucked away in deep forest. The place had been long converted into a Bosmer village, it turned out, but studying the architecture, Ungimros was intrigued with how it must have looked to the first people to enter. He was told there were traps and hordes of undead, and the idea excited him.

From that point onward, Ungimros no longer restricted himself to Valenwood, exploring Cyrodiil, sampling the sands of Elseweyr, viewing the Red Mountain (from a distance), and even spending a little time in Skyrim. The last place proved colder than Ungimros had been entirely into, so he moved back south, to look into the parts of Cyrodiil he’d not yet seen, starting with Cheydinhal.

Skills: Ungimros is a consummate outdoorsman; well-versed in the behavior of most Tamrielic animals, as well as judging weather, terrain, and foliage. He's a practiced tracker and hunter, and can gauge how to move silently and keep downwind in a given situation. He knows how to skin, butcher, and serve virtually any creature in Mundus, including all the bipedal races of Tamriel.

Physically, Ungimros is strong and agile. His archery is very good with a traditional bow, and especially a long one, though not as great with a crossbow. He's not great with a blade, but competent with things near dagger length. He can climb with ease, swim swiftly, and run quietly.

Ungimros' only magical skill is a small amount of Conjuration experience, learned primarily for profit. He can bind souls at a distance and trap them in gems on their body's death, to be sold to enchanters and other mages later. He also knows how to summon weak daedra in the shape of either a spectral wolf or a dagger, though he has been working on trying to conjure a Daedra as an arrow.

Equipment: Ungimros wears hide armor, as much for warmth as protection. A longbow of Altmeri design is generally resting on his back, a strap with a button to be unlatched whenever he needs the weapon. He keeps his quiver on one thigh, and it currently holds just under two dozen arrows of varied make and material. The rest of things are kept in two satchels - either one strapped around his waist - since he's yet to purchase or loot a belt that does something to this effect. In the satchels after his trip to Cheydinhall are as follows:
• 4 petty soulgems
• two minor healing potions
• a spare bow string
• 37 scattered Septims

Birthsign: - The Steed

Miscellaneous: Actual Cannibal Shia Labeouf