Avatar of Karos
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    1. Karos 9 yrs ago

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Bio

Salutations and Felicitations!

As my title alludes to I'm a student. I'm currently studying for my BA in History and Ancient History. I love diving into lore be it that of the past, or whether it be the brilliant product of the human imagination.

But just as fun I find is picking lore apart and making something new with it, and that's what draws me to good role-plays. Those little references shaped into new forms are really what helps to keep me hooked, just as much as good writing.

Most Recent Posts

Amon having walked into the Kitchen with Molly and fletcher kept his sword trained on the thief, he didn't like how at ease he seemed. His comments clearly designed to unnerve or impress only made Amon all the more wary. Amon contemplated using his powers, if he chose he could utterly shut down Fletcher's nervous system, he could shut off the nerves in his legs at any rate, but if he did it would be rather obvious what had happened, and he still didn't know how magic was regarded by the present company.

Ahh well he thought, if push comes to shove. Amon positioned himself so that he was between Molly and Fletcher, he reached down with his free hand and clasped the case of his scrying glass. It was warm in his palm so he kept his sword ready.

He looked at the thief 'So' he began 'you are going to tell me why you are here, you're going to tell me now and you're going to tell me everything.' He paused for a moment before continuing 'See unlike Ser Carver here who is honour bound by chivalry, I am not. Do you know, what happens to a man who breaks into the house of a lord where I am from? We round up his family and he is forced to choose one of them, that individual is then killed in front of the thief. Following that we chop off the thief's hands and feet and then he is cast out in the desert. Personally I find all that to be rather melodramatic but I can't deny its effectiveness. Perhaps the lord would adopt such a punishment? What I can say is that unless you answer my questions things aren't going to be very pleasant for you.' Amon smiled at this point before adding 'Or we can act like adults, you tell me what I want to know, I talk to the Lord on your behalf and maybe you just get thrown in a cell for a very long time. Surely that's better than ending up dead hmm?'
Lady Verain walked silently along the path leading into Whiterun, she saw scattered corpses here and there and could tell that the rest of the clan an it's minions had already got to work. As she walked calmly towards the screams of the dying and ring of weapons several civilians darted past her. She saw one a middle aged man, she smiled under her vale and flicked her right hand in his general direction. The man's faced locked into a grimace as his life blood was drawn from him, a moment later he fell to the ground dead. Lady Verain laughed the other terrified civilians darted past her trying not to meet her gaze.

Fools, what stupid little fools these mortals were... they were the perfect little playthings, even the Companions. She'd watched their charge, the beasts had surged forward to try and save what little the Vampires had left. Oh well, for all she cared ever last one of the other Vampires could die, she only had one purpose being here.

As she entered Whiterun proper she drew her rapier from where it was sheathed on her right hip. The weapon was lightweight and elegantly wrought the perfect representation of its mistress. She continued to walk towards her intended target the Hall of the Dead, nobody tried to stop her, not even the soldiers they were far to busy. A shame she thought, she could've done with some fresh blood after such a long trip. She did always find the blood of warriors slain in combat to be like sweet nectar, but she knew it was a rarity to be savoured and enjoyed rarely. To do otherwise would put her in harms way and she'd be killed like any of the many ferals she could hear dying in the lower districts.

As she approached the door to the temple of the dead she paused, turned and there was a single warrior. He looked like a companion large, strong and wielding a waraxe whilst wearing nothing more than a bearskin. She smiled, he just roared and barrelled towards her. As he drew close Lady Verain nimbly side stepped his attack and delivered a single cut across his left wrist. He turned around blood oozing from the wound her rapier had inflicted. He attacked again this time bring his axe down from above his head, this attack she dodged also but this time she plunged her weapon deep into the warriors heart. He froze as his strength left him his weapon fell to the ground useless. She smiled as she looked down at him, the last of his life seeping from him. She drew the sword from his heart slowly... the blood ran down the blade as she brought it up to her lips. She licked some blood from the blade, the taste was exhilarating, her senses seemed to sing as she tasted the still warm lifeblood. Then she turned and walked back towards the Hall of the Dead.
Name: Lady Jaina Verain
Race: Dunmer

Blood: Vampire (Harkon's line, gifted to her of course)
Appearance: Lady Jaina is a very pale skinned Dunmer thanks to the affects of Vampirism, if one weren't paying attention she might pass as human. She typically wears tight fitting black armour inlaid with silver. The armour consists of a solid bodice as well vambraces, small pauldrons and armoured boots that protect her shins. Under her bodice she wears a flowing black dress that reaches down over her boots. She wears a long cloak also that hangs from her shoulders attached by two pins fashioned into the image of Molag Bal. She wears a veil when in the company of her fellow vampires, or when adventuring out during the hours of darkness. During the day she adds a sleek black hood that is fastened to her cloak using the same pins that attach it to her armour.



Weapon of choice: Lady Verain's primary weapon is slender ebony rapier that she keeps attached to a belt on her right hip, she also carries a small ebony dagger tucked into her right boot. Other than this she is a powerful destruction mage, able to drain most mortals of their life force with a flick of her wrist, the use of her powers requires she keep well fed however, otherwise she is forced to resort to more mundane shock and ice spells. When she needs to be more subtle however she is known to make great use of vampiric seduction, this plus a piercing strike from her rapier tend to render ignorant targets dead before they know what has happened.

Personality: The epitome of the elegant lady, Lady Verain is an agile and utterly enchanting figure. She is a lady of great sophistication and high culture, well read and highly articulate she has a mind for plots. She is friendly to those of her own kind who are sophisticated and noble as she, but finds mortals and less sophisticated vampires to generally be beneath her contempt, or at the least worthy of nothing but condescension.

Bio: Hailing from an ancient Dunmer house long since lost to the sands of time, Lady Verain found herself in Harkon's court many centuries ago and has lived there ever since. She served Harkon faithfully until his death at the hands of the Dragonborn and Serana. She now serves Serana faithfully acknowledging her as the rightful heir and ruler of the Volkihar clan, not that the rest of the family agree with her assessment. She works quietly amongst the nobles of Skyrim trying to manipulate them to serve Clan Volkihar's interests and always revels in toying with mortals, most notably she has murdered several nobles associated with the Court of Windhelm and Solitude as of late, to what purpose however she won't say.
@Leidenschaft@gcold Sorry to be a bother, but is there anything else I need to do to get my character approved?
@Lady Amalthea Okay cheers, sorry 'bout that glad to be getting things back on track.
@Thantos My completed Character sheet awaiting your approval.

Name: Lady Jaina Verain
Race: Dunmer

Blood: Vampire (Harkon's line, gifted to her of course)
Appearance: Lady Jaina is a very pale skinned Dunmer thanks to the affects of Vampirism, if one weren't paying attention she might pass as human. She typically wears tight fitting black armour inlaid with silver. The armour consists of a solid bodice as well vambraces, small pauldrons and armoured boots that protect her shins. Under her bodice she wears a flowing black dress that reaches down over her boots. She wears a long cloak also that hangs from her shoulders attached by two pins fashioned into the image of Molag Bal. She wears a veil when in the company of her fellow vampires, or when adventuring out during the hours of darkness. During the day she adds a sleek black hood that is fastened to her cloak using the same pins that attach it to her armour.



Weapon of choice: Lady Verain's primary weapon is slender ebony rapier that she keeps attached to a belt on her right hip, she also carries a small ebony dagger tucked into her right boot. Other than this she is a powerful destruction mage, able to drain most mortals of their life force with a flick of her wrist, the use of her powers requires she keep well fed however, otherwise she is forced to resort to more mundane shock and ice spells. When she needs to be more subtle however she is known to make great use of vampiric seduction, this plus a piercing strike from her rapier tend to render ignorant targets dead before they know what has happened.

Personality: The epitome of the elegant lady, Lady Verain is an agile and utterly enchanting figure. She is a lady of great sophistication and high culture, well read and highly articulate she has a mind for plots. She is friendly to those of her own kind who are sophisticated and noble as she, but finds mortals and less sophisticated vampires to generally be beneath her contempt, or at the least worthy of nothing but condescension.

Bio: Hailing from an ancient Dunmer house long since lost to the sands of time, Lady Verain found herself in Harkon's court many centuries ago and has lived there ever since. She served Harkon faithfully until his death at the hands of the Dragonborn and Serana. She now serves Serana faithfully acknowledging her as the rightful heir and ruler of the Volkihar clan, not that the rest of the family agree with her assessment. She works quietly amongst the nobles of Skyrim trying to manipulate them to serve Clan Volkihar's interests and always revels in toying with mortals, most notably she has murdered several nobles associated with the Court of Windhelm and Solitude as of late, to what purpose however she won't say.
@Leidenschaft Right I'll rectify the weapon, originally I was going to go with Ebony but after re-reading the equipment rule glass made more sense. As for disintegrating the Altmer, a one off thing from the rage over losing his mother. It's not something he's typically capable of, I'll be sure to reign in the power of his spells in future though.

I'll look at lightening him up a bit, maybe I'll add a section about working with other soldiers? That seems a bit more like his style, I mean he's not foolhardy and stupid he knows teamwork is essential in war. Kind of like how he defeated the Thalmor commander with the help of his comrades, he's not a lone wolf type but he's not exactly a people person either. Somewhere in between.

Err what is the titanpad may I ask? I'm rather new here so I've yet to get all of the language nailed down.
@gcold

Sorry just wanted to ask, I am allowed to post there aren't I? By removing (or at least revoking, how does one delete?) my post, I assume I satisfy the 2 turn rotation rules?
Amon turned to the man who had rather artfully just fallen from the ceiling. He turned to Molly and Carver momentarily before wheeling back around to face the individual who had just joined them in such an unorthodox manner.

The figure introduced himself "Well that could have gone better." He said looking over at them. "Uhh... Name's Fletcher." He said sounding unsure. This was not what he had wanted to do. It could have gone better.

Amon stepped towards the figure and drew his sword from its sheath not sure what to make of this figure. Then he suddenly recognised him, his scrying glass seemed to burn within its case. The man who was out of place! He was certain of it, Amon said nothing, but continued to level his sword at the figure not daring to take his eyes from him. 'I've no idea who you are Fletcher' he began, addressing the figure 'But I am inclined to accost you for trying to enter a lord's home in such a manner, 'tis most unbecoming of a gentlemen to resort to such measures.'
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