Red Wizard

Dungeon Keepers

I'm so in :D

The Elder Scrolls V: Cycle of War

Name: Arnand

Gender: Male

Race: Breton

Age: 25

Skills: Arnand is skilled with both sword, spear and shield. He is also used to wearing his heavy armor.

Equipment: Sword, spear, shield, chainmail haubergon, chain hood, open helmet with noseguard, clothes.

Background: As one of the middle children of a noble family, Arnand never had a shot at inheriting his parents fortune and had to carve a living for himself. The mercenary life came easy to him, mainly because of the sparring lessons he'd recieved as a young man in his parents hold. He's been cutting his way through Tamriel his entire life, living off of other peoples conflicts and wars. He was even the head of a crew of thieves and bandits for a while, until he got bored with it and moved on. The current conflict in Skyrim is just his cup of tea, and so he's come to offer his services to the Legion (since he dislikes the Nords and always go for the winning side).

Appearance

Personality: Easy-going but arrogant. Arnand doesn't take anything but his own life seriously and can be quite irritating at times, although you'd have to search far and wide for a better drinking partner. His goal in life is to get rich and famous, and he lives for the glory of the battlefield and reveling in wine and goos food.

The Elder Scrolls V RP

Interested!

Masked vigilante RP.

Ok, this got a bit too crowded for my taste, gonna bow out.

Masked vigilante RP.

Interested. CS under construction.

The Dark Ages [ALWAYS OPEN]

So I'm gonna be away for about 10 days. I know it's a long time, but I'm confident that you'll manage without me. I look forward to reading the pages-long IC thread when I get back ;)

The Dark Ages [ALWAYS OPEN]

It was raining outside, as it had been for several days now. It was a good thing. Heavy rain meant less fighting, and Saxon could really use a break from the carnage. He sat inside the thick walls of the castle and spied as best he could into the grey gloom of the forest outside. At least he wasn't out there, like the enemy was, getting drowned in the neverending downpour. He knew all too well what it was like for them. Knew what it was like when everything was wet, when it felt like even your mind had started to soak, how the panic felt once you realized you couldn't escape it. Or the cold. The days were all right, but the nights... that's when the fever started to set in. And fever or not, you'd have to get up and fight in the morning. There was no alternative. The christening of these barbarians had gone all wrong. They just wouldn't accept the salvation of the Lord Jesus Christ. And so they fought.
He admired them, in a way. They were a hard people. Others would have crumbled against the might of the teutonic order, but these people wouldn't quit. Rain or shine, snow or otherwise, they just wouldn't surrender. He was all dry and well up here now, and he had his doubts about the situation. But the enemy never complained. Not that he had noticed, anyway.
Castle was the wrong word for the building he was in. It was a tower with a small wall, nothing more. It had been erected in the middle of nowhere to shield other, more important settlements from harm. And it had certainly done it's duty. He wasn't sure how many raids they had stopped, how many people they had killed. He sometimes wondered how many of those bastards there really were out there. They seemed innumerable at times. Like the trees in the forest.

He heard steps from below and turned to see who it was. One of the servants climbed the stairs towards him. Their eyes met, and Saxon realized the servant had come looking for him. "Excuse me, sir knight" she said, "One of the other knights sent me to fetch you. It was urgent." Saxon raised an eyebrow at this. "Who sent you?" he asked. "Sir Osrik. He's down by the battlements." Saxon nodded thoughtfully and looked outside once more. He spotted Osrik there, looking up at him. They were not on good terms, Osrik and him, but the man outranked him and so he had no choice but to abandon his dry, warm spot by the window for the cold rain outdoors. "Very well", he murmured, "I'll go see him. You can go about your duties." The servant courtsied and left. I wonder what he wants now Saxon thought as he started descending the tower.

The Dark Ages [ALWAYS OPEN]

So, my character!

Character Sheet

Name: Saxon

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Appearance:

pic

Saxon looks older than he really is. A lifetime of fighting baltic barbarians have rendered him strong and tough, but tired and scarred. He has short blonde hair and a big bushy beard. His eyes are green. He wears simple and comfortable clothing when not in his armor.

Personality: An aura of self confidence surrounds the veteran knight wherever he goes. He seems calm, almost tired, when not in battle. When fighting he transforms into a raging lunatic, screaming at the top of his lungs. Saxon is generally methodic when dealing with everyday issues and is a very pious man.

Origin: Saxon was born in Baveria to a low ranking noble.

Background: Coming from a long line of warriors, Saxon had no choice but to follow the predestined path his ancestors had set up for him. He has fought against the enemies of the church and the order since he was old enough to carry a sword.

Equipment: Armor, sword and shield, clothes, a horse and travelling gear.

Miscellaneous: Conversational in a few languages, including german, french, english, italian and latin. Can write and read in latin.

The Dark Ages [ALWAYS OPEN]

Accepted, the lot of you! Been busy with real life, will fire this up today.

The Dark Ages [ALWAYS OPEN]

Leidenschaft said
Waiting. Watching. Lurking. Interested...Making a character.

Eeeexcellent ;)