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    1. jumpadraw 9 yrs ago

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I'm pretty heroic. That's about it...

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Romulus happily obliged, rushing down the wall and joining Aelystair on the outer side of the gates.
"So, I take it you just met with the Count?"he asked casually, "Any updates?"
"Two hours ago, actually, but the ever-reliable Olfryn Stoneheart never showed up." Despite his frustration, Romulus grinned, appearing far more casual about it than he actually felt. He was pretty hungry and needed more than anything to stretch his legs, but a bad attitude wouldn't make anything better, nor would it get him off the wall sooner.
Romulus sat casually atop the wall, surveying the area. He had been on duty for quite some time now, probably longer than he should have been, but he didn't mind. Despite the war raging throughout the lands, he seemed to always find himself in these boring situations, but it was better than mucking out the stables. Still, the day was beautiful and the sun was high in the sky, so he had little to complain about. As he thought over these things, he noticed a soldier walking towards the gates, none other than Commander Aelystair Sivaeryl.
"Hail, Commander. Do you have business outside the city, or are you just leaving for your own enjoyment?" he asked.
Name: Morthaz
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Race: Orsimer
Backstory: (Who is your character? What brought them to this point?)
Morthaz was raised in a small Orsimer settlement on the outskirts of Skyrim. His life was simple, and while they were not well loved by others, they were happy. Morthaz, or Morz, to the few friends he had at that time, lived a good life, working hard during the day, and relaxing during the evenings. Occasionally, through the thick clouds and fog, Osimer could view the many constellations and stars shining brightly above. In a perfect world, this is how Morz would spend the rest of his life. However, as he would soon find out, the world was not a perfect place. Late one night, as Morz lay on his back looking at the stars, his village was attacked. Bandits, armed with crude weapons and thick fur armour stormed his village, lighting the longhouse on fire within minutes and slaughtering all who tried to escape. Morz tried to resist them, to push them back, but failed. He would have died that night, but luck was with him, or perhaps it was a curse rather than a blessing. A swing from one of the bandits sent him falling to the ground, bleeding and unconscious, but he survived. Out of everyone in the settlement, he and only he survived. He spent some time wandering, seeking some way to get his revenge. Last time they caught him unawares, but this time, this time he would be ready. If he had left when he wanted too, he probably would have lost his life. Before he could do so, though, he was confronted by a man, probably in his sixties or so. Morthaz was only sixteen, but already the man could see potential in the young orc. He promised to help the orc get his revenge to make him more powerful than any opponent he would ever face. Morthaz eagerly agreed to listen, and the old man began to teach him. At first, it was normal combat techniques, how to weld his warhammer, how to parry incoming blows, how to defeat those with faster and lighter weapons than his, and that sort of thing. A few months into training, though, the training began to shift. It was gradual, but unmistakable. The old man began to teach him prayers and dark rituals to Daedric gods, and Morthaz was already to far into training to turn back. If this was what he needed to do to avenge his fallen family, then he would do so. Finally, when he was just 24 years old, the last test came, the test to determine if he was ready. Morhtaz was presented with an innocent and completely helpless man. He was told by his teacher that while this man had never even drawn a sword to defend himself, there was more to him than Morthaz could see. Morz had done everything, but he wouldn’t become a tool for this old man. He couldn’t bring himself to follow through. He killed the old man, and as the blade pierced him, he laughed. It wasn’t out of shock or surprise. No, the old man was laughing as if Morthaz did exactly as he suspected. Morthaz released the captive and left the small hut of his teacher, turning to face the bandits. It took him months to track them down, but when he found them, they stood no chance. He killed almost all of them, but couldn’t bring himself to do so before asking the bandit leader one question. He had to know why he had done it. Why, of all placed he could have attacked, he chose a small settlement in the middle of nowhere. The bandit looked confused for a moment, but realization soon dawned upon him. All those years ago, he had just been an ordinary bandit, under leadership of a different person, but he still remembered the attack. He explained that they were offered an immense amount of gold just to kill a few orcs up in the mountains. They did it, no questions asked, but the bandit couldn’t help himself from returning. He did so a few years ago, and in the exact location of the village, there was a mine, probably packed all sorts of precious resources. That somebody could cause such great harm for nothing more than gold, even an immense amount, sickened Morz. He had lost what little faith in humanity that he had. His duty to his people was done, but he was still filled with rage, with a want of vengeance. Soon, he heard of rumours of the dead rising, and turned to investigate these findings. He learned of a plot to bring pain to the world, a plot of one of the Daedric princes, and soon he joined his ranks, becoming a Death Knight.

Personality: (What are they like? What are their preferences?)
Morthaz has absolutely no faith in humanity or other people. He always sees an ulterior motive behind others, some hidden agenda driving people to do what they do. He rarely shows mercy in combat. Because he survived, he was able to destroy the entire group that killed his friends, his family. To leave one of his own opponents alive would be foolishness to him, not mercy. He finds little joy in the world around him. All of that was drained out of him long ago. At this moment, he wishes for nothing more than to bring harm to all around him.
Gear: (Set up like follows)
Weapon 1: Daedric Warhammer, enchanted with absorb health.
Weapon 2: Fists
Offhand: N/A
Armor:Daedric armor, enchanted with fortify stamina and resist poison.
Items in possession:Morthaz has no real need to carry food or a bedroll, as he knows how to live off the land. Other than a few days worth of rations and some gold, he leaves room for more important things to him, that will actually serve a purpose during a fight, He has four potions of health, to fortify strength potions, two stamina potions, three potions of poison.

Appearance: (Detailed description and/or a picture)
Like most Orsimer, Morthaz has a large figure, and just his sheer size makes him an intimidating figure. His skin is a very dark shade of green, almost gray or black. His teeth are pointed and sharp, but his tusks are small and less pronounced than most other Orcs. Morthaz also is covered in multiple scars both from when his settlement was attacked and from through various training exercises and battles. Some of the more noticeable ones are the deep gashes along his forearms, and many nasty ones beneath his left eye, which he obtained while fighting a frost elemental.
Special skills: (What do they exceed at? Magic, swordplay, etc.)
Skill 1:Two Handed Weapons
Skill 2:Block
Skill 3:Wearing and using heavy armor properly
Okay, so option A looks a whole lot more like your traditional knight, but I think that option B looks really cool too. I don't know if it's the lighting or the color scheme, but it just seems to look a lot more 'holy' than the other armor. Tough choice, and I'm normally partial to the whole knight in shining armor look, but I think I'm gonna go with option B.
So, how's everything going for everyone? When do we plan on getting the next post up?
@Inertia @Aquaknight
So, are you guys done with this RP, then, or have you just been really busy, because it's almost been a month now. Anyway, if you don't have the time, that's fine, but I was really hoping to see this RP through to the end (or until my character dies, whichever comes first).
Name: Romionil “Romulus” Adami
Gender: Male
Age: 25
Race:Imperial (Altmer father)
Backstory: (Who is your character? What brought them to this point?)
Romionil Adami has had a very complicated life, and was conceived under very complicated circumstances. His father, Anionil, an Altmer soldier. His mother, Helena, an Imperial diplomat. They met during one of the many disputes between their two kingdoms, and, as his mother would say, ‘it was love at first sight’ , though Romionil had to wonder whether it was just mindless passion. Of course, his father was quite concerned about appearances and tradition, so when he discovered that Helena was pregnant, he was furious, as well as fearful about how his family would react. He sent her away, having the heart to promise to visit every few months, and she settled between Rorickstead and Morthal, making a new life for herself. When the child was born, Helena wanted to name him something traditional, old fashioned, like Tiberius, or Romulus, but wanted to honor her husband in some way. She settled for Romionil, and though she wasn’t pleased with the outcome, she was happy that she was remembering Anionil. Anionil visited infrequently, but as he did, he taught his son skill with magic, as well as the various techniques he had picked up with a blade as a soldier, and Helena taught him of the healing arts and how to talk his way out of almost any problem. One day, when Romionil was only ten, his father’s visits just stopped. At first, Helena was unwilling to believe, and waited almost a year before losing hope. She was never the same. Romionil had half a mind to go looking for him, but knew of the animosity between elves and men. However, in 4E 327, at just seventeen years of age, Romionil left for Cyrodiil. Hoping to become a diplomat and find his father in that way. He looked quite a bit like an Imperial, so he was a little less worried about going there. Of course, he feared that his name would be met with scorn, so he decided to go with Romulus, a more traditional, albeit uncommon, Imperial name. When the war broke out in 4E 330, Romionil was torn. He still had hope that he could help bring peace, but with so many warring factions, he was unsure as to how he could do so. He decided to remain on the fence for the first few years, but eventually joined the PGC. He did believe a democracy could better bring peace to the land, and hoped that with his ability as a diplomat, he would be able to convince Count Cayne to help settle things in a more peaceful manner. He hoped that he could find a middle ground, in which both the Militant and the PGC could be happy with the outcome, and maybe even find a way to appease the Altmer, and, if at all possible, find his father in the process.

Personality: (What are they like? What are their preferences?)
Romionil, being raised for most of his childhood by both an Imperial and an Altmer has adopted many of the main practices of both races. He is normally well mannered, especially at formal gatherings and during large meals around others. Being taught in the art of speechcraft, he always tries to talk things through before resorting to violence. However, being raised in the harsh lands of Skyrim have made him a rather strong fighter, and he isn’t a pushover in a fight. He also finds himself partial to elvish features, and has been raised to see the beauty of the strong features that most elves have.

Gear: (Set up like follows)
Weapon 1: Elven sword
Weapon 2: hunting Bow
Offhand: Magic
Armor: light PGC soldier armor
Items in possession: Backpack, bedroll, four days worth of food, sixty steel arrows, 4 healing potions, 3 stamina potions, two hundred gold (in coin purse), and few few spell tomes, mainly for complex restoration spells, but a couple of illusion ones as well.

Appearance: (Detailed description and/or a picture)
As his mother was an Imperial, Romionil has inherited most of her features and, for all intents and purposes, is an Imperial. However, while he does have her tan skin and brown hair, he has inherited a couple of features from his father as well. His skin has a slight tint of yellowish-gold, as do his eyes. He also has rather pronounced cheekbones, and his chin is slightly more pointed than the average person’s. He has a long and nasty scar down his back that continues on to his calf, which he obtained when he was attacked by a dragon as a child. He also has a few on his face and hands from years of struggling to survive. While Romionil is well built and strong, he has inherited his father’s slimmer physique as well, so he appears deceptively thin and frail to many around him. Romionil also wears his hair long to cover the slight point of his ears, as he as learned over the years that it is easier to avoid persecution than it is to embrace it or find those who accept you for who you are.

Special skills: (What do they exceed at? Magic, swordplay, etc.)
Skill 1: Speechcraft/diplomacy
Skill 2: Magic (particularly restoration)
Skill 3: Swordplay
@RangerOfTheRit

Okay, not sure if this is what you're looking for, but here he is:


Sorry it's a but long winded, but I couldn't find any other way to get my character across. If you have any suggestions or input, I'd be more than happy to implement it into my character, but I've tried to keep it as close to the lore as possible while still giving it my own spin.
Okay, I'll try to get my character up by Monday. Pretty busy, so I can't do it any sooner than that. Is that okay?
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