josephb

S̴T̴O̴R̴M̴C̴L̴O̴A̴K̴ : Rise of Tyranny (SHELVED, PM or DM me for inquiry.)

Rorik

Name: Rorik Ulrichson

Race: Nord

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Biography: Rorik grew up on the small farmstead just south of Windhelm, raised by his parents who were staunch supporters of the Stormcloak cause. With both of his parents having fought for the Stormcloaks. With tales of the warrior’s life told by his parents, Rorik always dreamed of rising high in the ranks of the Stormcloaks from a very young age. In his youth he pretended to fight in wars with sticks with his brothers and sisters and other children on the other farms. As he started to get older, he helped in his fathers’ forge making simple tools and weapons. Constantly beating metal and fighting started to build muscle in him, he also grew fast becoming very tall, even for a Nord.

When he was old enough, he joined the Stormcloak army and this is where he started to get his first taste of warfare fighting small skirmishes in the reach against the Forsworn. Rorik believed what he was doing there made a difference fighting against people who were destroying his homeland. With his size and strength, Rorik became known as a great fighter, even though he wasn’t the most skilled.

A few years later after not much success stopping the Forsworn completely, Rorik and his company were sent back to Windhelm, the city where he originally signed up. They had a few days off to see their loved ones which Rorik did. On his way home, he passed a mine where some local guards were hanging a Dunmer. Rorik didn’t ask to why they were killing the Dunmer but something didn’t sit well with him. When he was home, this is when he learned about how the Dark Elves had been forced to work the mines, basically becoming slaves for the Stormcloaks. His parents didn’t really care about it, but it wasn’t the reason has to why he signed up to fight and the ideals that his parents had told him of a free Skyrim for the Nords. He didn’t believe that the way to gain freedom from the Empire and the Thalmor was to enslave others. Everyone should be free Rorik thought, but Skyrim should just be governed by Nords. He started to see that his views were different to the views of what he was fighting for and he’d been too stupid to realise it.

A few days later when he was back in Windhelm, he wanted to visit the Gray quarter to see what kind of state it was in. When he was walking through, he thought it seemed more like a giant prison than a place to actually live. The buildings were close to falling down and there were shanties all in the alleyways with the Dunmers looking half starved to death. He came upon some guards beating up an old Dunmer and laughing and this is the moment Rorik’s mind was made up. He stormed over there and started to attack the guards. He managed to take out two of them but there was too many and they piled on him. He was thrown in the stocks for a few days, with the guards claiming he attacked them in a drunken rage for no reason. The moment he was released from the prison, he went to buy some iron armour and an iron battle axe and deserted the Stormcloaks, throwing away his uniform. As he travelled around Skyrim doing odd jobs, giving different names and never staying anywhere for too long, he started to hear about a resistance against the Stormcloaks led by a man from Windhelm. Rorik was unsure what to do because he had an idea what they did to deserters but he headed there anyway trying to find a way to sneak into the city.

Personality and General Disposition: Rorik is a friendly, outgoing Nord who always tries to see the best in people. He will try and defend people even if it leads to him getting into trouble. Probably the worst trait about Rorik is that he isn’t really the brightest, he can take a while to understand a joke and even finds it hard to understand the intricacies of plots and the arts of politics.

Allegiance/Loyalties: Ex Stormcloak Soldier. His loyalties lie with whoever need his help.

Equipment/Gear: Some plain made iron armour and an iron battle axe. He keeps some gear on his horse that has some different clothes that he wears under his armour, a tent and some hunting equipment, he also carries some gold.

Skills and Abilities: Rorik’s main skill is just his pure strength when he’s gotten a hold of his axe. He also can take quite a lot of pain. When he was in the army, he learned a few simple hunting tricks on how to set up traps and also how to skin and cook animals. Also has the slightest knowledge of blacksmithing.

S̴T̴O̴R̴M̴C̴L̴O̴A̴K̴ : Rise of Tyranny (SHELVED, PM or DM me for inquiry.)

Rorik

Name: Rorik Ulrichson

Race: Nord

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Biography: Rorik grew up on the small farmstead just south of Windhelm, raised by his parents who were staunch supporters of the Stormcloak cause. With both of his parents having fought for the Stormcloaks. With tales of the warrior’s life told by his parents, Rorik always dreamed of rising high in the ranks of the Stormcloaks from a very young age. In his youth he pretended to fight in wars with sticks with his brothers and sisters and other children on the other farms. As he started to get older, he helped in his fathers’ forge making simple tools and weapons. Constantly beating metal and fighting started to build muscle in him, he also grew fast becoming very tall, even for a Nord.

When he was old enough, he joined the Stormcloak army and this is where he started to get his first taste of warfare fighting small skirmishes in the reach against the Forsworn. Rorik believed what he was doing there made a difference fighting against people who were destroying his homeland. With his size and strength, Rorik became known as a great fighter, even though he wasn’t the most skilled.

A few years later after not much success stopping the Forsworn completely, Rorik and his company were sent back to Windhelm, the city where he originally signed up. They had a few days off to see their loved ones which Rorik did. On his way home, he passed a mine where some local guards were hanging a Dunmer. Rorik didn’t ask to why they were killing the Dunmer but something didn’t sit well with him. When he was home, this is when he learned about how the Dark Elves had been forced to work the mines, basically becoming slaves for the Stormcloaks. His parents didn’t really care about it, but it wasn’t the reason has to why he signed up to fight and the ideals that his parents had told him of a free Skyrim for the Nords. He didn’t believe that the way to gain freedom from the Empire and the Thalmor was to enslave others. Everyone should be free Rorik thought, but Skyrim should just be governed by Nords. He started to see that his views were different to the views of what he was fighting for and he’d been too stupid to realise it.

A few days later when he was back in Windhelm, he wanted to visit the Gray quarter to see what kind of state it was in. When he was walking through, he thought it seemed more like a giant prison than a place to actually live. The buildings were close to falling down and there were shanties all in the alleyways with the Dunmers looking half starved to death. He came upon some guards beating up an old Dunmer and laughing and this is the moment Rorik’s mind was made up. He stormed over there and started to attack the guards. He managed to take out two of them but there was too many and they piled on him. He was thrown in the stocks for a few days, with the guards claiming he attacked them in a drunken rage for no reason. The moment he was released from the prison, he went to buy some iron armour and an iron battle axe and deserted the Stormcloaks, throwing away his uniform. As he travelled around Skyrim doing odd jobs, giving different names and never staying anywhere for too long, he started to hear about a resistance against the Stormcloaks led by a man from Windhelm. Rorik was unsure what to do because he had an idea what they did to deserters but he headed there anyway trying to find a way to sneak into the city.

Personality and General Disposition: Rorik is a friendly, outgoing Nord who always tries to see the best in people. He will try and defend people even if it leads to him getting into trouble. Probably the worst trait about Rorik is that he isn’t really the brightest, he can take a while to understand a joke and even finds it hard to understand the intricacies of plots and the arts of politics.

Allegiance/Loyalties: Ex Stormcloak Soldier. His loyalties lie with whoever need his help.

Equipment/Gear: Some plain made iron armour and an iron battle axe. He keeps some gear on his horse that has some different clothes that he wears under his armour, a tent and some hunting equipment, he also carries some gold.

Skills and Abilities: Rorik’s main skill is just his pure strength when he’s gotten a hold of his axe. He also can take quite a lot of pain. When he was in the army, he learned a few simple hunting tricks on how to set up traps and also how to skin and cook animals. Also has the slightest knowledge of blacksmithing.

Let me know if anything needs changing.

S̴T̴O̴R̴M̴C̴L̴O̴A̴K̴ : Rise of Tyranny (SHELVED, PM or DM me for inquiry.)

So is there a starting off point where you would want all our characters to be at the start?

S̴T̴O̴R̴M̴C̴L̴O̴A̴K̴ : Rise of Tyranny (Interest Gathering)

I'm interested. :)

Relics of the First Age

My character is heading towards there now. Maybe wait a little bit for the arena scene for us three to get there?

Relics of the First Age

Leofric

As the distant cheers started to grow louder, the crowds in the street started to push even stronger and it was unsettling the horses even more. The woman was still with them and it turned out she was really wanting the money for the entrance to the arena. “Okay, okay, give my friends one of your poultices and I’ll pay for your entry.” Leofric stopped speaking for a second to think. Suddenly he jumped off his horse and took off his massive olive cloak, then chucked it onto his horse. Under his cloak he was wearing a plain leather gambeson and under that was chain mail, it was nothing compared to finely made ornamental armour he once wore as a commander, but it did its job and was less noticeable. There was a hatchet on his right side and he pulled a short sword from the baggage on the horse and attached it to the left side of his hip. “You two take my horse and see if you can hear any news at the tavern. If the lady here doesn’t mind, I’ll escort her to the arena.”

His two friends looked at each other unsurely before Rolland decided to speak. “Do you think that’s wise?” He looked over to the woman with the hood up not fully trusting her and not fully trusting the decision. “Would it not be better if we stuck together?”

“I didn’t think it would be possible to be more cautious than me Rolland.” Leofric let out a laugh, “But I’m sure I’ll be fine. I don’t think I’ll be long anyway. I want to see how the young Prince gets on.” Leofric like every other citizen from Greytry knew what the Princes of Etrid had to do on their coronation and Leofrics curiosity had gotten the better of him. “Keep your hoods down anyway, I think we might be looking a bit too suspicious with our hoods up like we’ve got something to hide.” He said it quietly so only the three of them could hear and maybe the woman waiting for her money. “And if you manage to find my son before I return, give him a clout round the ear for me.” Leofric walked off before the two could say anything to him. He handed the money to the woman and said, “From the sounds of it we don’t have much time before it starts so stick with me.” Leofric, marching ahead went down an alleyway, knowing the shortcuts that people who weren’t familiar with the city wouldn’t know of and seeing that the people crowding in the streets weren’t from here the alleyways were rather quiet. He continued on to the arena hoping to himself that this prince might be worthy of the crown.

@psych0pomp

Relics of the First Age

Sorry for the lack of posts, the pubs have reopened. Hopefully get one up tomorrow.

Relics of the First Age

I'm going to wait for @psych0pomp to post, then I'll work on mine.

Relics of the First Age

Leofric

The horse that Leofric was riding started to whinny, it was clearly agitated with how many people were surrounding her. There seemed to be more people in this street alone than in the whole of Yellowmoor and the horse clearly wasn’t used to it. Leofric patted her neck gently and whispered some calming words into her ears. “We need to find a place for the horses.” Leofric stated to his two companions who were behind him. The streets were covered with people and on every corner, there were stalls with merchants trying to sell their wares to all of the new faces to the city. Some of the items were genuine and others were useless overpriced trinkets that were sold to people gullible enough to believe the items were genuine. Leofric had lost count of the amount of times he had to break up fights between people who had been parted from their money and the hustlers who had taken the money when he was in command of the city guard.

They’d only been in the city for a few minutes when a woman in a red cloak approached them offering some concoction. Leofric smiled to himself realising he’d become the type of person who was a stranger to this city, but he was a stranger to this city now. Buildings had been destroyed; others had been extended; the people had changed. Leofric forgot how quickly the city moved after living in the Great Plains for so long which moved at the pace of snail. Greytry would have dozens of new buildings up by the time Yellowmoor made one. They stopped their horses for a minute to speak to the woman. Leofric, even though he thought it was going to just be a drink with a few spices in it was intrigued by her. “So, what makes it so special?” Leofric simply said trying to see her face properly with most of it hidden by the hood.

“Stamina eh?” Michael spoke up from behind him and he was deep in thought. “Well, I could use some extra stamina for tonight.” Michael then let out a dirty laugh looking at his friends. Rolland just sighed and Leofric shook his head but smiled at him. Michael started to rummage around in one of his pockets for money before being interrupted.

“You three!” A voice shouted. “You three on the horses!” The three turned around to see guards approaching them. “Do you think it’s a smart idea to block half the road, just to have a chat?” There was four of them and the one in front who was speaking was the oldest and looked in charge. “Pull your hoods down and answer.”

Leofric hesitated for a moment then obliged with the request and pulled down his hood. “Sorry my friend, we’ll move on now.” Leofric said, nodding at the guard who was staring at his face.

“What’s your name?” The guard said blocking the way for them. He was clearly trying to figure out where he knew Leofrics face from. It didn’t take long for Leofric to realise the guards face though, when he was still living in the city, this guard was just a recruit at the time. Leofric didn’t believe he had changed so much since leaving or was the guard just not that bright?

“John.” Was all Leofric said.

“And where are you from… John?” The guard said John like he didn’t quite believe that was his name.

“A small town, two days ride east of here. My big ugly friend here wanted to make some money in the tournaments.” Leofric pointed to Michael. “And we thought we’d accompany him for the morale support.” The guard just carried on staring into Leofrics eyes racking his brain from where he knew Leofric from. “We’re just trying to get our bearings; we’re looking for a place in the city to leave our horses. Can you point us in the right direction?”

The annoyance was clear to see on the guard’s face. “Five minutes ride down the street, there’s a big tavern with a stable. Most smart people leave horses outside of cities though. Now move!” Leofric smiled and moved on, after a few moments he looked back to see the guard in a heavy discussion with the other guards with two of them rushing off.

“That is not a good sign… we need to see if some of our old friends are still around and hide out there for a little bit.” Leofric said the last part in a hushed voice to his friends not paying much attention whether the woman was still with them.

Tags: @psych0pomp

Relics of the First Age

Leofric

Northern Gate

It had been over twenty years since Leofric had seen the city of Greytry, or maybe less. He’d lost count of the years since he fled to the Great Plains. Despite everything that had happened, he still smiled when the walls first came into sight. All the good memories came rushing back to him of his childhood and everything with his wife. A smile came across his face as he slowly moved closer to the gate. There was three of them all together who had gone looking for his son and his friends. The two were some of Leofrics oldest friends: Michael and Roland. They had served under him when he commanded in Greytry. They all had their hoods up to try and cover their faces, even though it had been so long and they looked a lot older, they still didn’t want the wrong people to notice them.

“Ah it’s good to be home!” Michael said in his booming voice. “After we’ve found your daft son, I want to see if The Dancing Pig is still going. I swear you only needed one pint from there and you couldn’t walk! Will be better than that swill they serve in Yellowmoor.” Michael laughed to himself slapping Rolland’s arm who was riding to the side of him. The three of them were on horses whilst most of the people walked in.

“Yes, the only reason you want to go there is for the ale. It has nothing to do with the wenches and the whores.” Rolland replied to Michael, who let out a dirty laugh not denying it.

“Well luckily the gates are letting everyone in at the moment. Saves us from having to try and climb over at night.” Leofric said quietly interrupting them as they got closer. It was a few days before when they noticed more and more travellers heading in the same direction as them, when they found out about the coronation of Prince Alten. Leofric had met his father, King Grewalt only a few times. Maybe if he was closer to the King and had more power, none of this would have happened.

Leofric had been thinking for the past few days where would be best to look for his son. In the back of his mind, his head was coming up with all sorts of outcomes with what could have happened to him. Maybe he’s been speaking to the wrong people and he’d been discovered by The Order or maybe he hadn’t even made it to the city and he’d been attacked on the road or just gotten lost. His son hadn’t even been to Greytry since he was six, his memory wasn’t that good to remember the way. What a fool he is, Leofric thought to himself.

As they passed through the gates, guards who were dotted about watched Leofric and his companions but they didn’t bother to stop them. Leofric just hoped it was because they were on horses whilst most people walked. “And now to look for the needle in the haystack…” Leofric muttered with a sigh.