Avatar of Butch
  • Last Seen: 8 yrs ago
  • Joined: 10 yrs ago
  • Posts: 78 (0.02 / day)
  • VMs: 0
  • Username history
    1. Butch 10 yrs ago

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

They were all making good points. Seryn knew that they would have to cross the White River sooner or later to reach Bleak Falls Barrow. The nearest bridge was in Riverwood and although said river wasn't yet too big or it's current too strong, so that they would probably be able to get through it, he wasn't too eager to climb the following mountain in wet clothes either. On the other hand going through Riverwood would certainly raise some suspicion, since their group was by all means not a common sight in Skyrim - or anywhere else really. None of them being nord or even imperial would be strange enough, but maybe more importantly; Reesh, Gherken and Seryn himself were still partly covered in bandit blood and Arielle seemed still a bit on edge. If someone were to call the guards onto them, they may get into more trouble than they could have handled. However Seryn had lived in Skyrim long enough to know that nords usually kept to themself and knew not to get into someone else's business. Plus smaller fights were not unusual in nordic culture - especially since the whole civil war thing - hence bloody clothing was almost considered a fashion trend by now.

Normally Seryn didn't really care why someone was willing to pay a whole mercenary group just for mead and cut off body parts. He wasn't the 'asking questions' kind of person and Reesh was right; there were enough crazy, rich lords and ladies ready to pay horrendous amounts of money for even more ridiculous objects, even though Seryn had rarely had the pleasure of being assigned these tasks in the past. He had learned a long time ago not to ask too many questions about a job anyway, better for everyone - conscience included. And yet, despite all this, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong either, not since the vamp took the mead from him...

Traveling with three argonians however didn't worry him at all. Jaza seemed to know what she was doing, he was still somewhat impressed of her skills with bow and arrow. Reesh could at least take a heavy hit or two and appeared to have trained this particular skillset for a longtime. The white one, Daleeza, called himself a healer, which would possibly come in handy. Seryn was willing to judge them by their skills, although they'd probably part ways again soon. No matter, he was never too attached to his fellow mercs. There was just one thing he wondered. He knew of lizards which would sacrifice their tail to evade predators and their ability to regrow said tail later. Were argonians also able to perform this trick? He considered asking one of them, but he would probably make it accidently sound like a threat of some sorts. Besides, it was a stupid and unnecessary question. But he kept catching himself staring at their tails more than once afterwards.
Another 60000 septims just for a dead mans cut off hand. Normally Seryn would have been more reluctant to accept a job like this, too easy for the amount payed, but he was looking at the proof that the collector was indeed true to his word. The bags were the size of a small child each and even though the questionable honour of meeting the man, who had delivered his payment, left him somewhat unsettled, Seryn was willing to look past this minor inconvenience, especially if it payed so well. Now however he had to concentrate on the next step.

Bleak Falls Barrow, Seryn had seen the place from afar before. The easiest way to get there would be through Riverwood, a small village north from Helgen. Its name serving as a great example for the creativity of the people living there. Looking up to the sky, he realized Jaza was right, they should get moving. He made a growling sound and nodded his head towards the road down to Riverwood. Realizing his companions expected some sort of introduction he decided to open his mouth after all.

"Seryn", his voice sounded rough and unfamiliar. How long had it been since the last time he had spoken his name out loud? Maybe a few months, a year even? He couldn't remember - it didn't matter anyway. He repeated the gesture towards the road.
Seryn had followed the female argonian and witnessed how she skillfully took down the massive bandit with a few elegant shots, which the dunmer never could have pulled of himself, neither as fast, fluent or even accurate. This and the fact that she managed to sneak up on him, after he had killed the two archers, made him decide to keep an eye on this one, maybe he could pick up a trick or two on the side. He gave her a nod of approval and pointed to the rest of the group, by which he realized that he was still holding the bow and arrows he had picked up earlier. They seemed useless now, but he decided to hold on to them for now and on the way back to his companions he also took a quiver and some more arrows from the bandits bodies.

The armored argonian looked pretty good for someone who just got thrown all over the place, although his shield had a visible crack in it. He and the short breton looked up as he approached. "He's been sent by the collector too." said the argonian woman. Seryn gave a greeting grunt and looked around. The bandits had taken a solid beating. Blood, bodies and even some body parts decorated the surrounding area in a pattern Seryn had seen many times before. He noticed a Khajit standing a bit further in the back, but before he could decide if he should open his mouth to ask who he was; "Hey... 'ey, listen!"

Seryn watched the Orc as she proceeded to slap the information they needed out of the last standing bandit. He answered after only a minor beating, which seemed to disappoint the orc, but Seryn had always had trouble to read emotions from orcish faces . No matter. Deciding to let the others deal with the bandit, Seryn made his way to the badly burned tavern. As he opened the somewhat still intact door - although he may as well have entered through the massive hole in the wall next to it - the smell of burned corpses rose up his nose. He decided to look behind, what he supposed once used to be some sort of bar first and after working through several broken bottles of mead, wine and the remaining corpse of who may have been the owner once, he found what he was looking for in a small metal box. Genuinely surprised to find the bottle still intact, he left the tavern to present his finding to the group.
Done. Sorry I am somewhat of a slow writer. Also, feel free to point out the many grammatical or spelling mistakes, which I may have strategically placed in my post. The commas get me everytime.
Seryn wasn't the talking type, maybe one of the reasons why the collectors agent came to hire him for an extraordinarily well payed job. It didn't matter. So when one of the archers - an especially ugly example of the common bandit - asked him who he was, Seryn didn't answer. It wasn't necessary. They came at him, two at once. He had hoped to surprise them, but sadly they had noticed him. It didn't really matter.

The ugly one was a bit faster, even a bit too fast. Seryn stood still, holding his sword with a defensive grip infront of him which caused the charging bandit to lower his weapon, in an obvious attempt to impale the dunmer with his short sword. A stupid strategy, which he would have payed for with his life, if it wasn't for the second bandit the dunmer had to worry about.
Seryn waited until "Ugly" could no longer stop, the dunmer made a swift step to the right - away from the bandits swordhand, a lesson one had to learn only once - but kept his left leg where it was, so that Ugly stumbled over it. Seryn then gave him a slap to the back with his free hand, in order to motivate the bandit to bury his hideous face in the ground. He wouldn' be down long.

The other bandit was already attacking with an overhead strike, he seemed to know that he only needed to buy time. Seryn blocked and made a step forward, closing the distance between the to of them. The bandit would technically be at an advantage with his shorter weapon, but Seryn had to be fast and the bandit didn't expect this sudden move. Up close the dunmer noticed that this one wasn't as ugly as his companion, but he smelled much worse. While "Stinky" was still momentarily confused, Seryn pulled his knee up into the mans loins - not an honorable way to fight, but it didn't matter. Stinky bent over with a painful expression on his face and Seryn broke his nose with an uppercut of his free hand, just to bring some distance between them. Whilst the bandit stumbled backwards, the two interlocked blades got free and the dunmer ended Stinkys life with a simple stab through his throat.

All this took not more than a few seconds, long enough however for Ugly to get his beastly face up again. Spitting out dirt and ash he groweld as he stood back up to face the dunmer, who just killed his friend. Seryn turned as Ugly already slashed his weapon wildly. They traded a few strikes and block, Ugly using his weapon aggresively, Seryn keeping his distance. Ultimately the dunmer feinted a bad block and countered Uglys overhead with a quick slash which left the bandit unarmed. He looked at the dunmer and yelled: "Who in Oblivi-". He was cut off by a sword through his heart.

When the dunmer had climbed over Helgens wall, by first climbing a nearby tree, the bandits had outnumbered his - what he supposed to be - companions. Now as he turned around there was not much left of the bandits. If you didn't count the huge mass of man who just flung the heavy armored argonian several feet through the air. Seryn grabed a bow and three arrows of the two dead bodies he just produced. Hoping the rest of the group would create enough distraction for him to get into a better position.
Quite a compliment really. But yes, I am indeed keeping an eye on things. (Since I would rather not get killed with fire)

I am in fact writing my first post in the IC section right now.
Name: Seryn Drath
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Race: Dunmer

Physical Description:
About 1.78m (5'10'') tall, athleticly slim with the dark skin and red eyes which are typical for his race. He shaves his head, which leaves him bald and the tip of his right ear is missing. He rarely gets out of his armor and due to the cold conditions he wears a furry cloak.

Skillset:
Expert Skills
One Handed
Light Armor
Adept Skills
Archery
Block
Novice Skills
Destruction
Sneak
Smithing (Enough to take care of his equipement and craft a bow and arrows)

History:
Seryn was born on a farm near Whiterun as the second child of an already poor family. His father worked on the fields while his mother served several nobles in the town itself. He spent his childhood helping out his parents with their duties. He worked on the field, served noble ladies, chased chickens and cleaned the floor. After he finished helping he would play with his brother, often chasing him across Whiterun rarely catching him. He grew up already learning what a good day of hard, manual labour and a honest, loving family is worth.

However when he got older and his childish ignorance and naivity wore off, he realized why his family was serving others, why no other children would play with him and his brother and why everyone seemed to look down on him. His mother called it the "unfortunate fate" of their kind, his father - a hard life, but one worth living. It didn't really matter for Seryn, it was not fair and he was angry about it. He started troubeling nobles, guards anyone who looked nord enough to be responsible for his fate. After an unfortunate encounter with a particularly witty nobel, who managed to aggravate Seryn enough to give up control over his already loose tongue, which lead to Seryn yelling, in front of the whole marketplace, about a fitting place for the jarl and the whole nobility of whiterun - one that rarely gets to see the sunlight, he got escorted into another place, for which the same could be said.

After a few days in prison Seryn returned to his family. His father sat him down and started talking about the exodus of the dunmer, the generosity of the nords, he asked Seryn if their life was all that bad. Seryn, whilst still not completely agreeing, had however learned a lesson or two. He became stoic, calm - quiet. If he had learned something it was that he was better off keeping his mouth shut and that if he wanted to change anything about his life, he had to do it himself. His brother, not quite the troublemaker, agreed at least with the latter.

When Seryn became 16 his father got sick and died shortly after. Seryn and his brother took over his work on the farms outside Whiteruns walls, but only half a year later - their mother followed her husband into the grave. The two boys, now left behind alone, realized there was no longer anything holding them in Whiterun. So they gathered every septim their family saved, each one took one half of their family "fortune", they hugged each other goodbye and left Whiterun in two parted ways.

Seryn became a mercenary, he traveld all across Tamriel and managed to survive this line of work long enough to become good at it. He learned how to fight with sword, dagger, axe and bow. He even picked up a few "tricks" from several temporary companions. A spell or two, how to throw a knive and how to fight with two weapons at once. He has already been through several adventures, leaving him with a few battlescars. After one particular job, which lead to him loosing part of his ear, he decided it to be best to never leave his armor unless necessary. He therefor wears it quite naturally and knows how to use it effectively.

Seryn very much considers himself a lone wolf, although he teamed up for jobs in the past. He barley speaks, says only what needs to be said, combined with the harsh looks of a dunmer he seems often cold. But despite all this he actually enjoys working with others and can still find a warm word or two. The fact that he barely speaks may keep others listening when he opens his mouth, however he has gotten pretty bad with words over the years.

Equipment:

  • A sword made of nordic steel
  • 2 steel daggers
  • Scaled armor plus furry cloak
  • A backpack with a few clothes, a blanket, some bread and cheese.
  • A waterbottle
  • A small dwemer gear (a souvenir from an old job)
  • Some septims, just in case

Known Spells:

  • Spark
  • Magelight

Party Control: Yes
Hello and welcome to my introduction, you may call me Butch. Now let's see... There's not a lot to know about me, I am a "young" adult living in central europe, have not been active in any RP's for a few yeas now (if you don't count videogames) and once ate a whole spoon of cinnamon. In my free time I like long walks on the beach (which we don't have here) and solving riddles and mysteries (like Sherlock Holmes - or Batman). I suppose I am here out of curiosity, but please don't take this as a sign of me quitting easily. Au contraire I finish what I started, much like this senten

So yeah... This is me I suppose

Signed with a keyboard

Butch

P.S: Maybe a little brainteaser for whoever is stumbling across this. "I hide but my head is outside. What am I?"
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet