I would like to put my interest into this story.
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The Age of Blades [Realistic medieval RP, hints of fantasy]
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10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
We thank you all for your prayers, blessings, and offer of support. If I may, I do wish to attempt to rejoin this story.
“RUN!” Bullets from the automatic pistol pelleted the ground just inches from Corbin’s outreaching arm, his fingers fumbling to grasp Karri’s cotton shirtsleeve. “Run damn you!” the gaze from her deep green orbs burned deep into his, her fearful but stern face etched forever into his memory. His failure to pull her to safety weighted heavily upon his soul.
“KARRI!” The crackling voice of a tormented soul broke the plastering pelts of the heavy rainfall; tears streamed and cleaned the grimy cheeks of Corbin while forcing himself upright from his hellish nightmare. “Karri,” trembling hands came to a rest upon tightly clenched eyelids. “Why?” His body jerked with the occasional sob escaped from the upright fetal positioned Corbin. Karri’s last moments on this earth filled his mind’s eye relentlessly. “OH GOD WHY NOT ME!” He sobbed into his covering hands, “Why not me!” His words faded into the sounds of his own sniffles.
By the power of Zeus or whomever, the clap of thunder that shook the small station brought Corbin out of his moment of tormented flashbacks to the current situation of him being carefree in choosing a place to rest. Quickly he pushed himself up, stood for a few moments listening to the musical thumping of rain upon the aging roof. His eyes darted over the small room, taking in the view with each streaming stem of lightening that the storm provided.
Death wish? Yes maybe, tired of this way of life? Most assuredly, was the thinking process of Corbin while he moved to the bay window and looked out over the land. His mind still jittery with the thoughts of Karri and the pain of not being able to reach her in time. He closed his eyes and brought his fingers into clenching fists while he fought the pain, fought trying to stop the images of the bullet riddled body of Karri that his mind’s eye kept playing.
A deep breathe, a small exhale, opening of the eyes brought Corbin back once more from his past. He forced his mind to think about the people he just left behind on the hillside. There was a saying that there is safety in numbers, but for him, it seemed like that was just the opposite, however, Karri’s last request to him was to make sure that he stands up and make a difference in this hell hole. He gave his word that he would.
He looked back over the land knowing well that the people on the hillside would not attempt to travel in storm with the increase threat of the Langue rising up in the soften earth. They would find cover and hold up till the break of dawn, he also knew that with this much rain, they would not stay on the hillside either, they would be traveling by the road till the ground hardened up so all he had to do was keep an eye on the road and wait till they showed up.
“KARRI!” The crackling voice of a tormented soul broke the plastering pelts of the heavy rainfall; tears streamed and cleaned the grimy cheeks of Corbin while forcing himself upright from his hellish nightmare. “Karri,” trembling hands came to a rest upon tightly clenched eyelids. “Why?” His body jerked with the occasional sob escaped from the upright fetal positioned Corbin. Karri’s last moments on this earth filled his mind’s eye relentlessly. “OH GOD WHY NOT ME!” He sobbed into his covering hands, “Why not me!” His words faded into the sounds of his own sniffles.
By the power of Zeus or whomever, the clap of thunder that shook the small station brought Corbin out of his moment of tormented flashbacks to the current situation of him being carefree in choosing a place to rest. Quickly he pushed himself up, stood for a few moments listening to the musical thumping of rain upon the aging roof. His eyes darted over the small room, taking in the view with each streaming stem of lightening that the storm provided.
Death wish? Yes maybe, tired of this way of life? Most assuredly, was the thinking process of Corbin while he moved to the bay window and looked out over the land. His mind still jittery with the thoughts of Karri and the pain of not being able to reach her in time. He closed his eyes and brought his fingers into clenching fists while he fought the pain, fought trying to stop the images of the bullet riddled body of Karri that his mind’s eye kept playing.
A deep breathe, a small exhale, opening of the eyes brought Corbin back once more from his past. He forced his mind to think about the people he just left behind on the hillside. There was a saying that there is safety in numbers, but for him, it seemed like that was just the opposite, however, Karri’s last request to him was to make sure that he stands up and make a difference in this hell hole. He gave his word that he would.
He looked back over the land knowing well that the people on the hillside would not attempt to travel in storm with the increase threat of the Langue rising up in the soften earth. They would find cover and hold up till the break of dawn, he also knew that with this much rain, they would not stay on the hillside either, they would be traveling by the road till the ground hardened up so all he had to do was keep an eye on the road and wait till they showed up.
I'm sorry I haven't posted, I lost my granddaughter a week ago and I don't know if I will come back. I'm sorry...
Still interested here.
In
Elder Scrolls Rp in Morrowind Post Stormcloak Rebellion
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10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Name: Galron Shanara
Age: 25
Gender: male
Race: Imperial
Appearance: The man that stands before you is of common height and weight, his attire is one that is just as common of the lower class, a hooded Cotton shirt and pants of forestry green. He wears a tunic of woodland brown to strive off the morning chills. A black leather arrow sheaf hangs upon his back. His knee high black leather boots are his only pair. His eyes are that of hazel hue, the closely cut brown hair is in sync with the well kept two day growth mustache and beard.
From: CyrodiIl
Birthsign: The Shadow
Guild: none
Bio: My name is Galron Shanara. I was born in a small village just east of the imperial city Cyrodiil on the 10th of suns height in the year176 4th era. My parents came from Skyrim to pursue a life for themselves. My father Hatius was an imperial who moved to Skyrim in his youth to be a black Smith's apprentice under a master Smith named Meros Stone-hammer my father fell for the daughter of Meros, my mother. My mothers father didn't approve of their love because he wanted to keep his family pure with only nord blood. So my mother and father fled in the middle of the night for Cyrodiil. My father used his skills as blacksmith to raise enough gold to buy a small house for the two of them. When I was born my father and mother had a good reputation for being master Smiths when it came to forming steel. When I was 8 my mother told my father that she felt guilty for leaving her family in such a way so she decided to return to Solitude to settle things with her family. The days turned to weeks and the weeks turned to months. My father grew very concerned and sent a letter to her family but received no response. My father figured my mother would return when she was sure things were alright with her family. After a few years my father grew colder and colder towards my mother. He said that she had abandoned us. To pass the time as a child I would play with the daggers my father had forged, but as time passed the daggers became swords and play became practice. My father told me that to understand a blade I must know how to create one I spent many weeks trying to forge the perfect sword. My father was impressed with my dedication. After finally forging a perfect steel sword I resumed my practice. At the age of 25 my father's shop was raided by a group of bandits, my father was slain in cold blood, left with nothing I decided to head to Skyrim to find my mother and confront her. On my way I was attacked by group of nord soldiers and taken prisoner they thought I was an imperial spy. A few days after my capture their leader Ulfric stormcloak decided to release me. After my release I asked to follow them because I didn't know the land of Skyrim so I planned to use them as much as possible for my own benefit and for the imperial empire, and to my surprise they agreed. Only a few short hours later we were attacked by the imperial legion, I was unarmed and defenseless I tried pleading that the nord soldiers were decent people but I was hit across the head with an iron shield and rendered unconscious. I awoke days later on a carriage, my hands bound my spirit broken. Headed for a place called Helgen. where I faced execution and survived because a dragon attacked as my head was on the chopping block
Weapons: The Dwarven black bow of Fate - 200 Dwarven arrows, Dwarven longsword of Leeching, Dwarven war axe of Evoking
Personality: Quiet, kind, and conscientious. Can be depended on to follow through. Usually puts the needs of others above their own needs. Stable and practical, they value security and traditions. Well-developed sense of space and function. Rich inner world of observations about people. Extremely perceptive of other's feelings. Interested in serving others.
Sexuality: Straight
Other: Working on becoming a high end smithy.
Age: 25
Gender: male
Race: Imperial
Appearance: The man that stands before you is of common height and weight, his attire is one that is just as common of the lower class, a hooded Cotton shirt and pants of forestry green. He wears a tunic of woodland brown to strive off the morning chills. A black leather arrow sheaf hangs upon his back. His knee high black leather boots are his only pair. His eyes are that of hazel hue, the closely cut brown hair is in sync with the well kept two day growth mustache and beard.
From: CyrodiIl
Birthsign: The Shadow
Guild: none
Bio: My name is Galron Shanara. I was born in a small village just east of the imperial city Cyrodiil on the 10th of suns height in the year176 4th era. My parents came from Skyrim to pursue a life for themselves. My father Hatius was an imperial who moved to Skyrim in his youth to be a black Smith's apprentice under a master Smith named Meros Stone-hammer my father fell for the daughter of Meros, my mother. My mothers father didn't approve of their love because he wanted to keep his family pure with only nord blood. So my mother and father fled in the middle of the night for Cyrodiil. My father used his skills as blacksmith to raise enough gold to buy a small house for the two of them. When I was born my father and mother had a good reputation for being master Smiths when it came to forming steel. When I was 8 my mother told my father that she felt guilty for leaving her family in such a way so she decided to return to Solitude to settle things with her family. The days turned to weeks and the weeks turned to months. My father grew very concerned and sent a letter to her family but received no response. My father figured my mother would return when she was sure things were alright with her family. After a few years my father grew colder and colder towards my mother. He said that she had abandoned us. To pass the time as a child I would play with the daggers my father had forged, but as time passed the daggers became swords and play became practice. My father told me that to understand a blade I must know how to create one I spent many weeks trying to forge the perfect sword. My father was impressed with my dedication. After finally forging a perfect steel sword I resumed my practice. At the age of 25 my father's shop was raided by a group of bandits, my father was slain in cold blood, left with nothing I decided to head to Skyrim to find my mother and confront her. On my way I was attacked by group of nord soldiers and taken prisoner they thought I was an imperial spy. A few days after my capture their leader Ulfric stormcloak decided to release me. After my release I asked to follow them because I didn't know the land of Skyrim so I planned to use them as much as possible for my own benefit and for the imperial empire, and to my surprise they agreed. Only a few short hours later we were attacked by the imperial legion, I was unarmed and defenseless I tried pleading that the nord soldiers were decent people but I was hit across the head with an iron shield and rendered unconscious. I awoke days later on a carriage, my hands bound my spirit broken. Headed for a place called Helgen. where I faced execution and survived because a dragon attacked as my head was on the chopping block
Weapons: The Dwarven black bow of Fate - 200 Dwarven arrows, Dwarven longsword of Leeching, Dwarven war axe of Evoking
Personality: Quiet, kind, and conscientious. Can be depended on to follow through. Usually puts the needs of others above their own needs. Stable and practical, they value security and traditions. Well-developed sense of space and function. Rich inner world of observations about people. Extremely perceptive of other's feelings. Interested in serving others.
Sexuality: Straight
Other: Working on becoming a high end smithy.
Corbin noted the situation, but figured that maybe a little senile craziness would defuse the situation. Like most events, you have people pulling weapons and yak, yak, yak, instead of the saying if you pull a weapon on someone use the goddamn thing and do not sit there and talk bullshit. Hell if that female wanted to kill them she would have done so already. Why in the hell would anyone talk with her? He just shook his head and waved his hand at the bunch. Hell if had been him, he would have just pulled out his 9”S and shot them all, the hell with just standing there gossiping with them.
Watching the fiasco was flaring his attitude of why sometimes it was just best to stay alone. Shrugging his shoulders to the situation, he turned and headed back down the hill. His idea was to find some kind of shelter for the night, for it looked like the storm was going to be hanging around for sometime, and that just sucked to all means. Nothing like being cold and wet, and with the way things are going it would be his luck that in the next few days he will sick as hell.
Walking on, his thoughts were on the people he just left behind. He really wondered how in the hell they managed to survive this long. A slight chuckle escaped his lips as a mental image popped into his head of how he thought they did it, but this dirty image faded fast as the heavy drops of rain began to instantly soak into his clothes, bringing the cold with it. Cursing he sped up his walking for off in the distant view of his gaze, the streaks of lighting should promise of some kind of structures ahead of him.
Several long moments later, Corbin entered into what appeared to be an outer-rimmed Gas station. Pulling out one of his 9’s he entered the already looted store, but supplies at the moment was not on the top of his list, but a dry place to lay his ass down was. Moving behind the counter, he sat down and leaned against the shelving. His gaze fell upon his knife for a few moments before putting the weapon back into the back of his pants.
Letting out a big sigh, he closed his eyes and attempted to get as much rest as he could…
Watching the fiasco was flaring his attitude of why sometimes it was just best to stay alone. Shrugging his shoulders to the situation, he turned and headed back down the hill. His idea was to find some kind of shelter for the night, for it looked like the storm was going to be hanging around for sometime, and that just sucked to all means. Nothing like being cold and wet, and with the way things are going it would be his luck that in the next few days he will sick as hell.
Walking on, his thoughts were on the people he just left behind. He really wondered how in the hell they managed to survive this long. A slight chuckle escaped his lips as a mental image popped into his head of how he thought they did it, but this dirty image faded fast as the heavy drops of rain began to instantly soak into his clothes, bringing the cold with it. Cursing he sped up his walking for off in the distant view of his gaze, the streaks of lighting should promise of some kind of structures ahead of him.
Several long moments later, Corbin entered into what appeared to be an outer-rimmed Gas station. Pulling out one of his 9’s he entered the already looted store, but supplies at the moment was not on the top of his list, but a dry place to lay his ass down was. Moving behind the counter, he sat down and leaned against the shelving. His gaze fell upon his knife for a few moments before putting the weapon back into the back of his pants.
Letting out a big sigh, he closed his eyes and attempted to get as much rest as he could…
@Elvenoff I should have picked up on this sooner. You haven't said what spells your guy knows - I need to know so you don't pull a b/s card out of your bum. If you wouldn't mind doing that for me at some point, then that'd be grand.
Done..
With regret and my apologies I must withdraw from this storyline. You may kill or use Aristobus as A NPC if you wish. The best of luck to you all..
Heavy eyelids slid down over a set of deep brown eyes fighting back what was forsure a losing battle. Small red drips fell from the chin of the inclined head to the small puddle that was now forming just below the kneeling figure. Small jerks began to ripple across the body, as the battle was lost. There was not a human a live to this day that could have won this battle of composure, it was just impossible. Things like this, even the most cold hearted would have had that internal moment of weakness. Corbin, it was just too much as he placed the last big rock over the small hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered while raking the back of his hand across his cheeks, ridding the stream of tears that were cascading done them. “Only if I was just a few minutes earlier.” He mumbled through the hard swallowing.
Pushing himself up, his red-tented orbs looked over the larger pile of rocks some inches away from this smaller one. “I’m so sorry.” He exclaimed to the unknown female. “Only if I was sooner, just maybe I could have.…” He fought back the notion to vomit. His mind playing the role of the punisher as the mental images of all those that he has buried flashed before his mental eye. “Fuck!” He screamed out as the pain ripped through him. Tears falling as his mind relived burying Karri. “You may rest now, your fight is over.” lowering, a small rose slips from his fingers, landing in between both graves. “Please understand and forgive me for what I must do now.” He whispered to the graves.
Turning away from the graves, his orbs focuses upon the two scumbags bound to a tree some fifty yards away. Pulling his knife out and shaking his head, “Naw, this one is too sharp.” Moving about the rubble, his eye comes across something that completes the task at hand. Reaching down he picks up the shard of glass. Head nodding as he turns and twist the piece before his gawking eyes. “This will work nicely.” His heard lifting and turning toward the two men. “Yep, this will work nicely.” He repeated as he walked toward the men.
The screams that echoed out was bone chilling to any whom heard it and didn’t know what was going on, but to Corbin, it was music to his ears as he stood and watched the blood run down the inner thigh of both men, then he took the castrated part of their body and shoved into both men’s mouths. “Yep, you both are qualified _ _ _ _ suckers!” He turned away from them, his eyes coming to a rest on the two graves. “Please understand that they deserved this and I hope you don’t judge me too harshly.” He muttered while he turned away and headed off into the horizon.
Pink and red streaks filled the sky telling all who looked into the sky that the day was coming to its end, one more day of misery now gone and bestowed into the books of history. Many of these types of days filled the mental pages of Corbin‘s history book, it seems like life had it out for him for each and everyday he managed to live through that day’s hell. If he believed in curses, he would swear up and down and all around that he was life’s prime target.
The sun bid its last breath to the land that Corbin walked upon as it slipped below the horizon. The chill in the air told him that a rather nice size river must be close for the temperature to drop so suddenly. His arms crossed over his chest, hands tucked into the warmth of his armpit, a grumble escaped with each tiring footstep. It has been a few days since he had a good nights sleep, something really hard to do these days but there was once that he did managed to grab one. His mind drifted back to the colonies, “Don’t go there asshole.” His mental voice scolded.
Off to the right something drew his attention, pulling his mind out of the clutches of the flashback; his orbs watched the flickering orange light splashing upon the small band of trees for what seemed like an eternity. This, this is what this life is now, nothing but constant hesitation, scanning over a unknown area and hoping like hell that it was just your mind playing tricks on you and there was nothing there. “AHH FUCK! What now!” he hissed at the night, not wanting to investigate, yeah like that wasn’t going to happen, “Fuck you life!” he hissed as once again the curse was upon him.
“By the backwards ass of an ass! I’m just walking up to this!” angrily he stomped toward the flickering flames. “Let’s see you get me out of this shit this time you bitch!” His eyes glaring at the sky as if it was the shadowy figure of life. ‘What lessons are to be learned when walking at night in an unknown landscape?’ This was the resounded reply from the shadowy figure of life as Corbin trips over several unseen dead branches, hitting the ground with a huff.
“WELL FUCK ME!” he shouts out, having his fill of life’s never-ending bullshit, rises up from the ground. His eyes locking onto the figures at the campsite. “I hope your fucking day has been better than mine.” his hands sprawling outward with the palms turned upwards. “What the fuck else can go wrong.” He shouted at the sky.
The streaks of lighting shot across the sky and ended with the angry boom of the forth-coming storm.. “That is just fucking great!” Corbin shaking his head…
Pushing himself up, his red-tented orbs looked over the larger pile of rocks some inches away from this smaller one. “I’m so sorry.” He exclaimed to the unknown female. “Only if I was sooner, just maybe I could have.…” He fought back the notion to vomit. His mind playing the role of the punisher as the mental images of all those that he has buried flashed before his mental eye. “Fuck!” He screamed out as the pain ripped through him. Tears falling as his mind relived burying Karri. “You may rest now, your fight is over.” lowering, a small rose slips from his fingers, landing in between both graves. “Please understand and forgive me for what I must do now.” He whispered to the graves.
Turning away from the graves, his orbs focuses upon the two scumbags bound to a tree some fifty yards away. Pulling his knife out and shaking his head, “Naw, this one is too sharp.” Moving about the rubble, his eye comes across something that completes the task at hand. Reaching down he picks up the shard of glass. Head nodding as he turns and twist the piece before his gawking eyes. “This will work nicely.” His heard lifting and turning toward the two men. “Yep, this will work nicely.” He repeated as he walked toward the men.
The screams that echoed out was bone chilling to any whom heard it and didn’t know what was going on, but to Corbin, it was music to his ears as he stood and watched the blood run down the inner thigh of both men, then he took the castrated part of their body and shoved into both men’s mouths. “Yep, you both are qualified _ _ _ _ suckers!” He turned away from them, his eyes coming to a rest on the two graves. “Please understand that they deserved this and I hope you don’t judge me too harshly.” He muttered while he turned away and headed off into the horizon.
Pink and red streaks filled the sky telling all who looked into the sky that the day was coming to its end, one more day of misery now gone and bestowed into the books of history. Many of these types of days filled the mental pages of Corbin‘s history book, it seems like life had it out for him for each and everyday he managed to live through that day’s hell. If he believed in curses, he would swear up and down and all around that he was life’s prime target.
The sun bid its last breath to the land that Corbin walked upon as it slipped below the horizon. The chill in the air told him that a rather nice size river must be close for the temperature to drop so suddenly. His arms crossed over his chest, hands tucked into the warmth of his armpit, a grumble escaped with each tiring footstep. It has been a few days since he had a good nights sleep, something really hard to do these days but there was once that he did managed to grab one. His mind drifted back to the colonies, “Don’t go there asshole.” His mental voice scolded.
Off to the right something drew his attention, pulling his mind out of the clutches of the flashback; his orbs watched the flickering orange light splashing upon the small band of trees for what seemed like an eternity. This, this is what this life is now, nothing but constant hesitation, scanning over a unknown area and hoping like hell that it was just your mind playing tricks on you and there was nothing there. “AHH FUCK! What now!” he hissed at the night, not wanting to investigate, yeah like that wasn’t going to happen, “Fuck you life!” he hissed as once again the curse was upon him.
“By the backwards ass of an ass! I’m just walking up to this!” angrily he stomped toward the flickering flames. “Let’s see you get me out of this shit this time you bitch!” His eyes glaring at the sky as if it was the shadowy figure of life. ‘What lessons are to be learned when walking at night in an unknown landscape?’ This was the resounded reply from the shadowy figure of life as Corbin trips over several unseen dead branches, hitting the ground with a huff.
“WELL FUCK ME!” he shouts out, having his fill of life’s never-ending bullshit, rises up from the ground. His eyes locking onto the figures at the campsite. “I hope your fucking day has been better than mine.” his hands sprawling outward with the palms turned upwards. “What the fuck else can go wrong.” He shouted at the sky.
The streaks of lighting shot across the sky and ended with the angry boom of the forth-coming storm.. “That is just fucking great!” Corbin shaking his head…
@tomeBinder Sorry I did miss that...I will correct it now..
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