Delta1038

Fallout: The Long Haul (ALWAYS OPEN TO NEW PLAYERS)

Shark Club, New Reno
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“And stay out!” shouted the head bouncer, a well-built man who looked he was deep in his thirties as his goons threw Brimble out the club. “Beat it you fucking genius,” he continued his taunts as Brimble picked himself off the ground. “I don’t give a shit if you’re a copper with a buzzer the size of fucking New Vegas!”

“New Reno’s got only three rules; booze, blow and babes you fucking crumb!”

“Crumb?” parroted Brimble as his face grew red for his insolence. “Now you listen to me you quigly bint!” he continued chest pumped up against the bouncer who was at least a head taller than the fine gentleman. “Have you not known in that mewling brain of yours who I am? I a-“

“A fucking crusty crumb who’s giving me the fucking doll face who thinks he’s got the lowdown” said the bouncer to the small gentlemen whose moustache furrows into what resembles a puffy weasel as he pushes his face onto his.

“I said scram!” said the bouncer as he punctuates his warning by shoving Brimble, making the fine gentlemen to go arse-over-tit and causing his hat to fall.

Picking himself up, Brimble dusts himself clean and calmly walks up to the bouncers with a stiff lip; one that any gentlemen would be proud of. His earlier imitation of an angry rat melting into a visage of calmness, Brimble buckles his belt one more time and said “Now, no need to be rude but you have pushed me to a certain resolution” in a threatening tone inciting a small chuckle from the bouncers.

“Oh, by the way,” he continued. “I am Sir Barnabus Brimble.”

Barnabus smiles as he reaches for his knife hidden in his vest. In one quick motion, he slashes the throat of the head bouncer which the man reflexively clutches his throat before Brimble pulls him by his shirt and tosses him on the ground. Taking advantage of the stunned bouncers, Brimble pounces the one to his right, jamming his knife into the man’s chest killing him almost immediately.

Retrieving his blade, Brimble turned his attention to the third man whose face tells him all he needs to know. Charging his pistol and taking aim, Brimble flips the knife and throws the blade, hitting his mark; between the eyes as it should be. Checking his clothes for any signs of gore and happy that there was none, he then collected and cleaned his blade before he took notice to the head bouncer, still clinging on to dear life as he drowned in a pool of his own blood. Brimble picked up his hat, remembering his prey who he tracked from Junktown for days. Brimble walked into the club but not before giving the head bouncer one more glance just for him to inform him;

"Tis Sir Barnabus Brimble, Hunter Extraordinaire!"

TES: Soul Cairn

The Pale Pass, Cyrodiil-Skyrim Border
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The Thalmor leading the Dominion on another war to finally try to finish of the Empire of Tamriel, a dark vortex materialising over the Imperial City; news travels fast in Tamriel and despite his earlier plans, Nords, Sellswords and other warriors either seeking glory and fame or setting what was once right swarm towards Cyrodiil like a flock of seabirds on a loaf of bread. A little over a month since he began his journey south beginning from the town of Morthal, Mithlas had time to think of his plan for he knew well enough the truth is almost never good.

And the braggart did swagger and brandish his blade,
as he told of bold battles and gold he had made!

Mithlas sung to himself as he walked with his off-hand resting on the pommel of his sword as he was trained by Master Rauf. Just at the border, Mithlas turned around one last time to look into the place he called home for a few decades, this harsh land did grew unto him despite their earlier disagreements. While fond of the fresh crisp air of Skyrim, it was time to get back to warm olive shaded plains of Cyrodiil. Mithlas chose the road least travelled among the paths of the Pale Pass as very much preferred to avoid drawing his blade to deal with some up-start brigands.

His song was interrupted with the sudden notice of some heavily Nord accented threat of “Your money or your life!” as two Brigands leaped from the bushes; a large bearded man armed with a steel battle-axe, a very traditional looking Nord and a smaller Breton man armed with two long swords. In other words, the salt and pepper for a two man theatre comedy routine.

“Oi, you deaf?” barked the Breton pointing his weapon menacingly at Mithlas, still uninterested by the sudden turn of events. “Pay the toll or-“

“You’ll kill me and la la la,” Mithlas finished the brigand’s sentence in a tone full of mockery. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I don’t have time for this” he continued walking pass the brigands.

“Hey!” yelled the Nord with his face turning red as Mithlas continued his way south, not even paying heed to the thieves. “Don’t you walk away from me you pointy-eared milk-drinker!”

Still not responding to their threats, Mithlas could hear the war cry of the Nord as he charged at him, battle-axe raised intending to kill the elf in a single blow. Roaring at the top his lungs, the Nord swung his weapon hitting on the dirt unable to draw his back for some reason.

Mithlas looked at the stunned Nord with a boot stepping firmly on the helve of the battle-axe. Tilting his head coyly, Mithlas introduced his knee to the Nord’s face, knocking the brute of a man out cold with a single blow. Too early to celebrate his victory, the Breton charges making the same mistake as his partner did; weapons raised leaving himself open.

Reaching his hand onto one of pouches, Mithlas grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it into his would be attacker’s eyes. Loosing focus, Mithlas delivered a swift kick to the Breton’s loins before knocking him down on the ground. Looking at his attacker writhing on the ground, Mithlas inspected his satchel and found a pouch of gold; payment for his performance.

“Well I was wrong” he said. “This really was worth my trouble” he continued coyly before turning around heading south. “Thanks for the gold” he continued his taunts raising his hand waving his captive audience goodbye.

“Where was I again?” he said to himself. “Oh right,”

And the braggart named Ragnar was boastful no more-
When his ugly red head rolled around on the floor!

TES: Soul Cairn

Too Old 4 This said
@Delta1038 Don't take this the wrong way, but your last card... looks like a doge meme.

Hah!

TES: Soul Cairn

I'm rather unhappy with my original draft of the history so I'm redoing that so that it'll be more grammatically acceptable along with other issues. But yeah the current posted history is the gist of it and I will return to edit it so that it'll be more proper. I miss the preview button.

EDIT: Now it's finished.

Name: Mithlas

Age: 95

Gender: Male

Job: Sellsword

Skills: Mithlas is a skilled swordsman trained in the Redguard’s Way of the Sword, Cydrodiilic and Altmeri martial arts. While not as talented in art of magic as his fellow Altmer are, Mithlas has years of experience under his belt along with his formal specialisation of Destruction and Alteration magic during his membership in the College of Winterhold. His time as a freelance sellsword and wanderer forced Mithlas to be at least informed in Restoration and Alchemy.

History: Mithlas, Son of Mithlian, Son of Mithriil was born in the 122th Year of the 4th Era in Valenwood. Despite never having met his father, Mithas had a happy childhood and spend his early years among the Tree-Sap people. It was not until his 16th Birthday that Mithlas’ wanderlust would overcome his love for his home before the end of that year, Mithlas could finally see the land of Tamriel beyond the high canopies of Valenwood. With only the clothes on his back and a few gold coins, Mithlas tagged along passing caravans and this his journey of Tamriel began.

At some point during the third decade of his life, Mithlas found himself in the sands of Hammerfell; the home of the Redguards. Hiding his elven features under a hood, Mithlas spent years living amongst people of the Alik’r before he was apprenticed by a band of wandering Alik’r mercenaries. Mithlas’ history of growing with the Bosmer and his time in Hammerfell has physically conditioned his body to be ready for his training. Mithlas spent a decade learning their ways of hardship, life and more importantly, their swordcraft. History once again repeats and Mithlas left Hammerfell to continue his life as a wanderer and now, mercenary.

Business was generally good with the occasional dry wells for there was always someone that needed killing or protection from killing in the land of Tamriel. His time as a mercenary has seen him serving as a caravan guard walking among the familiar roads built by the Vanech Building Commission, acting as muscle for innkeepers against unruly patrons who had more than enough to drink, general bounty hunting in the sands of Elsweyr, Courier work for Imperial companies in the swamps of Black Marsh to even as a short-term bodyguard to a suspicious authority figure in High Rock. Mithlas never been to Morrowind, the eruption of Red Mountain over a century ago has made the land of the Ashlanders a little too inhospitable, even for him.

In the waning years of Emperor Titus Mede I, Mithlas happened to be stumbling around drunk in the Imperial City after he collected his pay of a particularly good bounty and decided he wanted to do another pub crawl. In his drunken stupor Mithlas decided to spend the night at the Merchants Inn but not before he sampled a glass of Colovian Brandy. Buying a bottle with the remainder of his gold reserves, Mithlas immediately chugged the bottle before another patron; a Dominion Altmer decided to pick a fight with him. Instead of spending the night under warm comfy sheets, Mithlas instead woke up in a cold damp jail cell.

Waking up with a massive hangover with no real memory of what has transpired, the warden had Mithlas dragged out his cell and in to his office. The warden explained that Mithlas started a brawl that caused thousands of Septims worth of damage and he’ll pay the fine, rot in prison or join the Legion as penance for his crime. Seeing that he has pretty much spent his last coin on brandy, the choice was simple.

Mithlas took well to Legionary training especially since he understood the value of shutting up and listening to the man with the loudest voice. That and his sheer experience over almost every other recruit who are half his age gave him quite an edge. Mithlas’ officially graduated as a Decanii of the Legion in the 168th Year of the 4th Era, the year of the death of Emperor Titus Medes I and the succession of the crown to his son, Titus Medes II. Mithlas’ above average combat prowess and his quick thinking had him assigned to the venerable 13th Legion stationed in the city of Bravil. With the shadow of the Dominion dawning over Tamriel, the eventually of war was a well-known fact and the 13th Legion was tasked with reinforcing and preparing the city of Bravil and the surrounding towns for their arrival.

Three long years of constant drills, rationing of supplies and the occasional sabotage before news of the invasion of Hammerfell reached Mithlas ears. Months after first contact, the city of Leyawiin falls along with the complete destruction of the 10th Legion. The Dominion was swift in their advance for the capitol, tales of burning, raiding and the extermination of “impure” Altmer travelled fast and within weeks of the Fall of Leyawiin the Dominion was at Bravil’s doorstep and thus the siege of Bravil began.

For the first month, the defenders of the city were standing firm against the Dominion onslaught but by the second they were completely surrounded and acts of sabotage on their supplies have placed the defenders at a disadvantage. Day after day, week after week the Dominion pushed their advantage to try to take the city but the 13th Legion held the line. The weeks turned to months and the Dominion attacks intensified but the 13th Legion held the line. But for all their bravado and tenacity, the 13th Legion and the people of Bravil knew that their efforts were for nought as they knew it won’t be long before the Dominion would breach their walls and make an example out of them for their “insolence”.

At the end of Rain’s End with the setting of the sun, the Dominion has finally breached the walls and is pouring into the city. Street by street, room by room, the defenders were defiantly fighting to the last man, woman and child but Mithlas knew it was a pointless fight that could only end in one way. Mithlas along with his contubernium fought their way out of the city, literally hacking at any Dominion soldier that stood in their way. By the end of the week Bravil has fallen under Dominion control with only a few lucky enough to escape.

Battered and bitter Legionaries likes Mithlas regrouped in the Imperial City for the eventual Dominion assault. The city besieged by the end of 172nd Year and it eventually fell to Dominion hands by the 174th but not without heavy casualties. Lady luck smiling on him once again, Mithlas managed to survive the battle and join the local resistance movements. Avoiding Dominion patrols and striking supply lines, Mithlas’ training with the Alik’r begins to shine as the resistance’s efforts to slow down the Dominion seems to work as the Dominion sends more and more patrols to hunt them down.

With the Imperial victory at the Battle of the Red Ring and the signing of the White-Gold Concordat ending the war, Mithlas like many others turned in his sword and wandered the familiar but now torn roads that he always walked through his life. He continued his life as a sellsword not in Tamriel but in Skyrim for business was booming with the rise of the Forsworn, discoveries of new Dwemer ruins and the Civil War. He was even there during the Year of the Dragonborn and was for a time, a member of the Dawnguard albeit more of a mercenary than a full time hunter of the dark.

In the past few years, Mithlas suffers from vivid dreams that seem to be more of visions of things to come. A land of the dead where souls are tortured for eternity, the forces of evil not unlike the legions of Mehrunes Dagon that marched over Tamriel over four hundred years ago and a great council leading these armies. Compelled by his visions, Mithlas journeys south but this time not for pay but for himself in what could be his last adventure…

Misc:



Mafrensca is Mithlas’ longest and most loyal companion. A design similar to the scimitars used by the warriors of Alik’r, Mafrensca is the result of the combination of Redguard, Altmeri and Nebenese metalwork forged by Mithlas himself through techniques he learnt through his life. While the smith work of Mafrensca is far from comparable to legends such as Eorlund Greymane of Whiterun, Mafrensca is designed to be balanced perfectly to Mithlas’ specifications.

Starting Location: Bruma

HistoryCards

TES: Soul Cairn

I'll do both as a compromise. The Bio card is just an experiment I've always wanted to try.

TES: Soul Cairn

OKay my bad wrong term. Less of comic more of cards.

TES: Soul Cairn

Lovely! Like the other Bethesda RP, I'll dig out one of my playthroughs and adapt it. Quick question, am I allowed to post my character sheet in comic form?

TES: Soul Cairn

Ave, is this RP still open?

Fallout: The Long Haul (ALWAYS OPEN TO NEW PLAYERS)

Portrait of Sir Barnabus Brimble, HUNTER EXTRAORDINAIRE!

Name: Sir Barnabus Brimble, HUNTER EXTRAORDINAIRE!

Age: 55

S.P.E.C.I.A.L. Stats:

Strength 6 - I once punched a Yao Gai to death!
Perception 7 - I am called HUNTER EXTRAORDINAIRE! for a reason.
Endurance 4 - My bones aren't what they used to be even with SCIENCE!
Charisma 5 - I am HUNTER EXTRAORDINAIRE!
Intelligence 5 - SCIENCE!
Agility 7 - No prey can escape the HUNTER EXTRAORDINAIRE!
Luck 6 - A good hunter can calculate probabilities.

Skills: Guns, Science, Survival

Equipment Checklist:
1). The Extraordinary Hunting Rifle – My long arm of choice with custom action and a detachable scope, made for me by my parents. ✓
2). Combat Knife – For the times where I get caught in a pickle. ✓
3). Other Essentials - Non-perishable food, water, repair kits, sleeping kit. ✓

Biography:

Excerpt
Extremely Extraordinary Tales of Sir Barnabus Brimble, HUNTER EXTRAORDINAIRE! – The 1st Official Biography of Sir Barnabus Brimble, HUNTER EXTRAORDINAIRE!

Abstract

Hello dear reader, I, Sir Barnabus Brimble, HUNTER EXTRAORDINAIRE! would like to congratulate you on your selection of reading material for now you are reading my first official biography, the biography of Sir Barnabus Brimble, HUNTER EXTRAORDINAIRE!, the first of many to come. Now you’ve all heard the stories, the myths surrounding the extraordinary hunter that I am; the tales of coming of my birth by trained Deathclaws to the daring raid by Brotherhood of Steel Paladins on my tent. Hogwash, nothing can be further from the truth! Now dear reader, in this 600 paged book I shall speak the truth and only the truth of my extraordinary life. Prepare yourself, for you shall now learn the life of Sir Barnabus Brimble, HUNTER EXTRAORDINAIRE!

Contrary to the stories where I killed by first Molerat before I learned to walk, I was never born an extraordinary hunter, I had to learn to become one. My parents, my birth parents were part of a nomadic tribe traveling across the Wastelands as trade caravans from settlement to settlement. This was until they were disintegrated by the 35 Raiders on the 35th. I myself was nearly killed in the raid before I became a hunter extraordinaire until a tribe of robots exterminated the raiders. I was the only survivor of my tribe. The robots are part of a tribe called the Iron Knights; a tribe of sentient robots tasked with the protection of the innocent and the punishment of the guilty took me in an raised me as one of their own. There I met my new parents and by extension, my new family.

Growing up, I learned their ways; how to talk like them, how to move like them and more importantly, how to fight like them. My new family taught me the ways of powder and chamber and before I knew it, I was on my first hunting trip with them. I remember my first kill; we were tracking this beast for days without rest. I took aim and pulled the trigger and its goodnight Irene for the beast. And that’s my first kill as Sir Barnabus Brimble, HUNTER EXTRAORDINAIRE!

NCR Bounty Report █████
RECIPIENT NAME: SIR BARNABUS BRIMBLE
AGE: 55
PAYMENT AMOUNT:
- 750 CAPS ONLY FOR CENTURION LISINIUS
- 25 CAPS ONLY FOR CENTURION HELMET
- 250 CAPS ONLY FOR PAIN KING
- 250 CAPS ONLY FOR STEEL TOE
- 5 GOOD TIME CIGARILLO CARTRIDGES ONLY

OTHER NOTES: Sir Barnabus Brimble is an eccentric self-proclaimed vigilante who frequents the eastern territories. We are unable to confirm his background cited from his biographies. We have made dealings with him before on other bounties, written evidence stored under file █████, █████ and █████. Despite his oddities, Brimble has proven to be an asset for the NCR due to his efficiency and his relatively docile demeanour when around civilians. However it must never be underestimated as he displays First Recon-level marksmen capabilities.

Signed,
██████████

Fallout: The Long Haul (ALWAYS OPEN TO NEW PLAYERS)

Well double post but time to make most of the padding. There's the character sheet and I hope it does get accepted.