Peik

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

Up for a collab, @Leidenschaft? I feel my post is going to be too short without Solveig's presence.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

Good news, everyone, I'm getting surgery on Thursday and I will forever be melded with steel. I'm getting plates and screws in this ankle.

@Leidenschaft

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

I was rereading the sheets of some of our characters and I rediscovered that Solveig has novice medicine skill. She can make basic poultices and sew wounds if anyone needs. She's not just an asshole, she's an asshole that can patch you up.

@Leidenschaft

I looked at Sadri's sheet upon reading this and found out myself that he's got Apprentice Mercantile and Novice Smithing. Makes me wonder what I had been thinking.

Projection

Eşref Nafiz Bey

Eşref Nafiz Bey

Male | 38 | 178 cm | 94 kg

Istanbul, Ottoman Empire, 1880 | Albanian/Circassian

Profile

Appearance:

Of average height and a physique more stout than slight, Nafiz isn't exactly a breathtaking sight, nor is he conspicuous. The man's head has a somewhat round, wide shape, with his full cheeks, prominent nose, rather large brown eyes and voluminous mustache making up most of the dominant features one can notice in first glance. His head rests upon a thick, short neck, with a shallow, but long dimple splitting his chin in two. He has a large mouth and meaty lips, although this is somewhat hard to notice underneath the cover of his mustache. His hair, having started to grey, is often well taken care of and parted to the side.

For his age, Nafiz is quite well-built, with broad shoulders and thick limbs, and walks with the stride of a strong man, having never gotten rid of the military discipline and Albanian machismo that had been instilled in him at a young age.

Personality:

Seemingly a simple man with a staunch poker face and an inquisitive, almost criticizing glint in his eyes, those knowing Nafiz easily consider him too volatile, and too zealous in his actions, to be a proper agent, let alone a respected member of society. This consideration wouldn't be incorrect. Nafiz has quite a temper (that, according to him, comes from his Albanian blood), which, in dislikeable situations, he lets to brew silently until it boils, at which point he acts out, often radically and physically, thanks to a natural sense of entitlement and dominance. Nafiz, while not stupid, sees the world in simpler, perhaps more animalistic ways, with a slight disregard for courtesy and non-physical punishment. He has, and wishes to continue to, get out of complicated situations by simply getting rid of all parties involved except himself.

While his radical, often life-endangering actions were (barely) tolerated in the Ottoman Empire, he has found life to be more complicated in Europe, having trouble adapting to life abroad, the lack of entitlement and the subtler operation methods required for his new theater of work. Henceforth, he is somewhat on edge, although this tension has led him to strive for a better record, trying his best to contain his fervor and adapt to the different environment of international spying.

Background:

Reportedly born in Salacak, Istanbul, to Atiye Hanım and Naci Bey, Nafiz had a rather simple childhood. His father, Naci Bey, was a government clerk-turned struggling tobacco trader hailing from Albania, and his mother came from a family of Circassian descent, a family that was once proud of its roots in the Harem, now devolved into nothing but a bunch of housewives with a flair for extravagance and nostalgia. Unlike Nafiz, his father Naci was a much more rational man, looking at the world from behind the lenses of law. It can be said that his son simply took a liking to more fundamental laws.

A dominant character in his childhood, Nafiz quickly became one of the bigger characters in his early education, often getting into scuffles, which, while outwardly chastized by his parents, either through shouting or a proper beating when absolutely necessary, were secretly celebrated for being signs of a true-blooded Albanian. However, his parents, no matter how proud, were still concerned about their son's well being in society, and decided to send him to military school, where they believed he could put his aggressive demeanor to good use.

Barely managing to pass the exam for enrollment in the Ottoman Military Academy, Nafiz quickly made an infamous impression with his radical, pro-constitutional ideas (inspired, but not educated, by the imam of the mosque near their house, Ismail Molla), and his insubordinative behavior. Almost expelled from the Academy, Nafiz nonetheless managed to pass all the courses, including the (for him, especially grueling) language classes, graduate, and become a non-commissioned officer, serving firstly in the Balkans as part of peacekeeping forces, going after bandits, rebels and criminals and making quite a record for, until the outbreak of the Italo-Turkish War.

Nafiz is recorded to have served alongside important figures such as Mustafa Kemal Pasha and Enver Pasha (whom Nafiz had served as orderly for) during the Italo-Turkish War, referred to as 'a fellow of choleric temperament, almost fearless yet paranoid, an excellent fighter and a smart small-scale tactician, but a horrible strategist'. A leader of various promising, but in the end repulsed assaults, Nafiz was set for dishonorable discharge for his summary execution of an officer a rank higher than him, but thanks to his relations with Enver Pasha and the Union and Progress Committee, was instead 'reassigned' back to the Balkans.

Upon the onset of the Balkan War, Nafiz was promoted to sub-lieutenant, and served favorably against Bulgarian forces, with a promising understanding of guerilla warfare, reigning free in the chaos as the leader of five hundred volunteers. Responsible for an amount of atrocities during the war, but also proving to be an effective skirmisher with a good grasp on psychological warfare, Nafiz was sent to Switzerland for physical therapy by the Army after getting wounded by artillery - even though his wounds were not severe enough to keep him from service. Nafiz theorized that his superiors had conspired against him, which was in fact true. His behavior had united both his superiors supporting the Union and Progress Committee and those against it - he was too aggressive to be kept around.

After the 1913 Ottoman Coup, Nafiz was recruited to the Ottoman Special Organization, and took part in various operations led by the Organization as an effective, but brutish enforcer. With the onset of World War One, however, Nafiz once again ended on the fronts, serving in the Dardanelles, Sinai and Caucasus fronts. Somehow surviving getting buried alive by artillery fire in the Dardanelles, and also surprisingly storming into enemy lines over and over in Sinai, Nafiz was begrudgingly promoted to Lieutenant for his unexpected effectiveness.

Serving as the commander of a small guerilla contingent, Nafiz played a part in the forced deportation efforts that would later turn into the Armenian Genocide, going after Armenian partisans. Later, he was ordered to focus more on the advancing Russian army instead, nearly losing a foot to frostbite in the cold environment of the Caucasus and Northeast Anatolia. Nafiz became bolder and bolder as the war went on, and with the lack of supplies, his maneuvers turned out more and more rabid, constantly attacking Russian supply convoys in a self-labeled war of attrition.

Upon a disastrous advance against the Russians which wiped most of his soldiers, Nafiz was honorably discharged from the Army and sent to Istanbul, something which he never forgave. In Istanbul, Nafiz was chosen by the Ottoman Special Organization for his 'unmatched skill in seeking out enemies of the state' to 'help their weary allies in the War get rid of internal enemies' (in truth, a ploy to keep him away and have Europeans worry about him). Hastily prepared for the mission, and sent to Europe to help the Central Powers, Nafiz, as expected, turned out to be trouble. But sometimes even trouble has its uses.

Capabilities

Languages:

-Native Ottoman
-Fluent French
-Fluent German
-Slight English

Skills:

-Combat Experience
-Riding
-Skirmish Tactics
-Interrogation
-Intimidation

Flaws:

-Easily angered
-Holds grudges
-Paranoid
-Tendency to react physically
-Fear of flight

Combat Style:

For Nafiz, almost every fight is a fight for survival, and thus, every fight is to be taken seriously. Having fought against the British, ANZACs, Hindus, Italians, Arabs, Russians, Armenians, and various other ethnicities, Nafiz is no stranger to combat, whether it be a brawl, or a shootout. While not a sharpshooter, he is experienced with most weaponry and handles them with familiarity and relative accuracy, and, always the macho, often opts for more stopping power. Nafiz knows he is strong, and likes to get up close and personal and finish the job before they have a chance to react.

Connections:

N/A

Opinions of Group Members:

TBA

Inventory

Cash:

-200 Austro-Hungarian Crowns
-100 British Pounds

Tools:

-Straight Razor
-Hammer

Weapon and Ammo:

-Gasser M1880 Montenegrin Revolver w/ 20 11.25x36R rounds
-Sawed-off Martini Henry w/ 20 11.45x55R rounds
-Switchblade

Outfits:

-Hat
-Fez
-Double breasted topcoat
-Sleeveless sweater
-Suit jackets
-White shirts
-Red shirt
-Ties
-Suit pants
-Leather shoes
-Cavalry boots

Jewelry, Valuables and Personal Belongings:

-Handmade brass pocket watch

Books and Documents:

-Austrian Passport
-Fake British Passport
-English-French Dictionary

Rations:

N/A

Packs and Bags:

-Wallet
-Suitcase
-Rucksack
-Two holsters

Misc:

-A pack of chewing tobacco

Projection

Eşref Nafiz Bey

Eşref Nafiz Bey

Male | 38 | 178 cm | 94 kg

Istanbul, Ottoman Empire, 1880 | Albanian/Circassian

Profile

Appearance:

Of average height and a physique more stout than slight, Nafiz isn't exactly a breathtaking sight, nor is he conspicuous. The man's head has a somewhat round, wide shape, with his full cheeks, prominent nose, rather large brown eyes and voluminous mustache making up most of the dominant features one can notice in first glance. His head rests upon a thick, short neck, with a shallow, but long dimple splitting his chin in two. He has a large mouth and meaty lips, although this is somewhat hard to notice underneath the cover of his mustache. His hair, having started to grey, is often well taken care of and parted to the side.

For his age, Nafiz is quite well-built, with broad shoulders and thick limbs, and walks with the stride of a strong man, having never gotten rid of the military discipline and Albanian machismo that had been instilled in him at a young age.

Personality:

Seemingly a simple man with a staunch poker face and an inquisitive, almost criticizing glint in his eyes, those knowing Nafiz easily consider him too volatile, and too zealous in his actions, to be a proper agent, let alone a respected member of society. This consideration wouldn't be incorrect. Nafiz has quite a temper (that, according to him, comes from his Albanian blood), which, in dislikeable situations, he lets to brew silently until it boils, at which point he acts out, often radically and physically, thanks to a natural sense of entitlement and dominance. Nafiz, while not stupid, sees the world in simpler, perhaps more animalistic ways, with a slight disregard for courtesy and non-physical punishment. He has, and wishes to continue to, get out of complicated situations by simply getting rid of all parties involved except himself.

While his radical, often life-endangering actions were (barely) tolerated in the Ottoman Empire, he has found life to be more complicated in Europe, having trouble adapting to life abroad, the lack of entitlement and the subtler operation methods required for his new theater of work. Henceforth, he is somewhat on edge, although this tension has led him to strive for a better record, trying his best to contain his fervor and adapt to the different environment of international spying.

Background:

Reportedly born in Salacak, Istanbul, to Atiye Hanım and Naci Bey, Nafiz had a rather simple childhood. His father, Naci Bey, was a government clerk-turned struggling tobacco trader hailing from Albania, and his mother came from a family of Circassian descent, a family that was once proud of its roots in the Harem, now devolved into nothing but a bunch of housewives with a flair for extravagance and nostalgia. Unlike Nafiz, his father Naci was a much more rational man, looking at the world from behind the lenses of law. It can be said that his son simply took a liking to more fundamental laws.

A dominant character in his childhood, Nafiz quickly became one of the bigger characters in his early education, often getting into scuffles, which, while outwardly chastized by his parents, either through shouting or a proper beating when absolutely necessary, were secretly celebrated for being signs of a true-blooded Albanian. However, his parents, no matter how proud, were still concerned about their son's well being in society, and decided to send him to military school, where they believed he could put his aggressive demeanor to good use.

Barely managing to pass the exam for enrollment in the Ottoman Military Academy, Nafiz quickly made an infamous impression with his radical, pro-constitutional ideas (inspired, but not educated, by the imam of the mosque near their house, Ismail Molla), and his insubordinative behavior. Almost expelled from the Academy, Nafiz nonetheless managed to graduate and become a non-commissioned officer, serving firstly in the Balkans as part of peacekeeping forces, going after bandits, rebels and criminals and making quite a record for, until the outbreak of the Italo-Turkish War.

Nafiz is recorded to have served alongside important figures such as Mustafa Kemal Pasha and Enver Pasha (whom Nafiz had served as orderly for) during the Italo-Turkish War, referred to as 'a fellow of sanguine temperament, almost fearless yet paranoid, an excellent fighter and a smart small-scale tactician, but a horrible strategist'. A leader of various promising, but in the end repulsed assaults, Nafiz was set for dishonorable discharge for his summary execution of an officer a rank higher than him, but thanks to his relations with Enver Pasha and the Union and Progress Committee, was instead 'reassigned' back to the Balkans.

Upon the onset of the Balkan War, Nafiz was promoted to sub-lieutenant, and served favorably against Bulgarian forces, with a promising understanding of guerilla warfare, reigning free in the chaos as the leader of five hundred volunteers. Responsible for an amount of atrocities during the war, but also proving to be an effective skirmisher with a good grasp on psychological warfare, Nafiz was sent to Switzerland for physical therapy by the Army after getting wounded by artillery - even though his wounds were not severe enough to keep him from service. Nafiz theorized that his superiors had conspired against him, which was in fact true. His behavior had united both his superiors supporting the Union and Progress Committee and those against it - he was too aggressive to be kept around.

After the 1913 Ottoman Coup, Nafiz was recruited to the Ottoman Special Organization, and took part in various operations led by the Organization as an effective, but brutish enforcer. With the onset of World War One, however, Nafiz once again ended on the fronts, serving in the Dardanelles, Sinai and Caucasus fronts. Somehow surviving getting buried alive by artillery fire in the Dardanelles, and also surprisingly storming into enemy lines over and over in Sinai, Nafiz was begrudgingly promoted to Lieutenant for his unexpected effectiveness.

Serving as the commander of a small guerilla contingent, Nafiz played a part in the forced deportation efforts that would later turn into the Armenian Genocide, going after Armenian partisans. Later, he was ordered to focus more on the advancing Russian army instead, nearly losing a foot to frostbite in the cold environment of the Caucasus and Northeast Anatolia. Nafiz became bolder and bolder as the war went on, and with the lack of supplies, his maneuvers turned out more and more rabid, constantly attacking Russian supply convoys in a self-labeled war of attrition.

Upon a disastrous advance against the Russians which wiped most of his soldiers, Nafiz was honorably discharged from the Army and sent to Istanbul, something which he never forgave. In Istanbul, Nafiz was chosen by the Ottoman Special Organization for his 'unmatched skill in seeking out enemies of the state' to 'help their weary allies in the War get rid of internal enemies' (in truth, a ploy to keep him away and have Europeans worry about him). Hastily prepared for the mission, and sent to Europe to help the Central Powers, Nafiz, as expected, turned out to be trouble. But sometimes even trouble has its uses.

Capabilities

Languages:

-Native Ottoman
-Fluent French
-Fluent German
-Slight English

Skills:

-Combat Experience
-Riding
-Skirmish Tactics
-Interrogation
-Intimidation

Flaws:

-Easily angered
-Holds grudges
-Paranoid
-Tendency to react physically
-Fear of flight

Combat Style:

For Nafiz, almost every fight is a fight for survival, and thus, every fight is to be taken seriously. Having fought against the British, ANZACs, Hindus, Italians, Arabs, Russians, Armenians, and various other ethnicities, Nafiz is no stranger to combat, whether it be a brawl, or a shootout. While not a sharpshooter, he is experienced with most weaponry and handles them with familiarity and relative accuracy, and, always the macho, often opts for more stopping power. Nafiz knows he is strong, and likes to get up close and personal and finish the job before they have a chance to react.

Connections:

N/A

Opinions of Group Members:

TBA

Inventory

Cash:

-200 Austro-Hungarian Crowns
-100 British Pounds

Tools:

-Straight Razor
-Hammer

Weapon and Ammo:

-Gasser M1880 Montenegrin Revolver w/ 20 11.25x36R rounds
-Sawed-off Martini Henry w/ 20 11.45x55R rounds
-Switchblade

Outfits:

-Hat
-Fez
-Double breasted topcoat
-Sleeveless sweater
-Suit jackets
-White shirts
-Red shirt
-Ties
-Suit pants
-Leather shoes
-Cavalry boots

Jewelry, Valuables and Personal Belongings:

-Handmade brass pocket watch

Books and Documents:

-Austrian Passport
-Fake British Passport
-English-French Dictionary

Rations:

N/A

Packs and Bags:

-Wallet
-Suitcase
-Rucksack
-Two holsters

Misc:

-A pack of chewing tobacco

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

<Snipped quote by Frizan>

Jorwen's a furry with a bisexual daughter

@Leidenschaft

Sadri is Venom Snake.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

@Aristo

Leif and self-pity.

Sagax and an imperial ghost.

Marcel and his baked goods.

Jorwen and his wife.

@MiddleEarthRoze

Marcel is pure! PURE!

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

It hadn't been hard for Marcel to kill the Spriggan, despite the fact he was not used to them, and the left over pieces of the dryad's body laying on the ground seemed to fill him with more determination and courage, rather than the usual feeling of melancholy he felt after a kill. Perhaps this was because the fight wasn't over, and adrenaline had not finished its rush through Marcel's veins. One way or another, he moved forward, smallsword at the ready, towards the Matron - only to witness the witch get chopped by an axe-wielding lizard. He hesitated for a moment, and realized that it was the Argonian from the party that had crippled the Spriggan.

It took a moment for Marcel to change targets, as right after the amped-up alligator's assault, the old brute of the party started to swing at the Matron, almost shearing off a good amount of Marcel's face in the process. Moving from behind the man to avoid an accidental faceful of zweihander, Marcel pushed himself forwards the last Spriggan, whose hands were wide open, perhaps in the midst of casting something, or perhaps simply trying to grasp the spear that had lodged itself in its bark. His silver smallsword pierced right through the witch's chest just as the glow of magick materialized around the Spriggan's hands, interrupting the dryad's action. It seemed quite perturbed by the sword impaling through the midst of its torso.

Marcel pulled out the smallsword shortly after the attack, and the Spriggan spent a few moments trying to perceive its seemingly lethal wound. Not wishing for it to do anything crucial before its death, Marcel lifted his sword and brought it diagonally towards the barky neck of the witch, chopping in deep, hard enough to take its life, but not hard enough to decapitate. Marcel found the strike well-placed nonetheless, and it would be asking too much to wish for a thrusting sword to chop through a beast of wooden make in one strike either way.

''I sincerely don't know how these witches come to be,'' Marcel spoke as he pulled out the Altmer's weapon from the carcass of the Spriggan. ''My master was able to speak their language. Shame I never learned it from him,'' he mused as he walked around, stabbing more holes into the bodies on the ground to make sure the party would not be surprised by a sudden regeneration.

-

Sadri was quite satisfied with the way the fight had went. Well, he was not happy about the pierced leg of Elmera, and Leif's crisped face, but he had seen such fights against the Automatons go much worse. He was fine, so was Solveig. Nobody had lost a life, or a limb (at least there was no need for immediate amputation). The Dwemer machinery were all dead. The rest he could pay less mind to. They still had a job to do, after all.

There was only one way forward, and go forward, the rest of them did. Leif had stayed behind with Elmera, to watch the elevator, and probably also to recuperate. Nobody could expect you to walk with a bolt through your thigh. That would be just plain rude.

Although he had hoped to go alongside Do'Karth, it seemed that the party was not able to decide on a second delegate, and thus, ever being the professional, he cursed internally at the ones he knew comparatively less for not letting him go alongside the Khajiit. He watched expectantly as Do'Karth moved out, and actually ended up happy that he wasn't chosen when bolts and arrows flew Do'Karth's way. Of course, he had a feeling that had he been alongside him, they wouldn't shoot - but then he remembered how he felt when looking at his reflection, and concluded that they'd have shot at him too, most likely.

He turned his head slightly to look at Solveig. He heard someone shout, and took an action-ready stance as the Imperial youth, Sagax, lunged forward like a headless chicken, shouting in the name of the Emperor, swinging his sword. One eye was still at Solveig. She was truly born graceful.

''Sagax, you fucking idiot!''

In these beautiful words, was partially the reason for his love of Solveig. She was honest, primal. Maybe he was just being too much of a romantic by trying to find aesthetic in his love's curses, but everything she did had an aesthetic of its own for Sadri. She moved forward, next to Do'Karth, and this was primer enough for the Dunmer to move.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

Dank.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

-Redacted in the name of the Holy See-