Toxx

A Skyrim RP?

I was originally going with only five, but I believe that I can slide you in.

So, whilst I laze around and procrastinate, does anyone want a CS? I sorta have my character created, maybe kinda. I worked on it like thirty minutes ago.

The 'plot' will beeeeee....the prisoners thing. I hope the carriage can squeeze six people into that shoddy wooden wagon, lmao. Also, she could have been the next in line for the Arch Mage title? Seeing as my character was the soon to be Listener.

Name:

Age:

Species:

Personality:

Appearance:

History:

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Name: Malum Blackmoon

Age: 25

Species: Half Dunmer, Half Imperial. It's mostly noticeable by his tipped ears, midnight black eyes, and angular face.

Personality: Malum is...well, Malum is certainly an interesting individual once you first meet him. Sharp witted, with the brain and social attitude of a lashing whip, or a steel sword, Malum isn't someone you would want to get into an argument with. While he is a sarcastic, seemingly easy-going assassin who enjoys the solitary life rather than testing his lack-luster patience with annoying civilians, Malum also has a crimson tongue - no, not a silver tongue, but a crimson one.

He will slice you down with pure spat fire if necessary, which, when dealing with annoyances, it most definitely is, and he won't hesitate to simply decapitate you right then and there. As long as you're respectful, kind, and generally not an abominable hindrance, then you can expect him to treat you at arm's distance. If you're an asshole, then you can sort of expect a severe tongue lashing and a disdainful flick of the middle finger. Anymore then that, and he'll simply end your life. Malum doesn't bother with talking if he's angry enough, and despite his attempts at keeping calm in all situations, he's relatively easy to anger, and thus he's a hundred times more dangerous then someone naturally cool-headed. He has few morals - but they are strict - and so killing, murdering, and torturing is simply another chore. This may have something to do with his history...which is something you may not want to get in to, for if Malum ever hears you uttering anything that has something to do with his past life...well, let's just say you'd be dead within seconds of uttering it out loud

Appearance: Malum is generally a very, very mysterious figure, his face and body usually shrouded by his hair. Although, if you were to catch a glance at the man's face, you would see carefully pale, yet fair skin, with rather angular and lean jawbones that casts a hint at his Dunmer heritage. He has a bit of scruffiness of a beard, due to only shaving at certain intervals, although it doesn't do well to hide the pale, long scar that dots his left cheek. The man's eyes are of the midnight black variety, although one seems to be pure white, with black edges - further proving him to be of Dunmer heritage - although no one knows of, or have proven, this fact. His hair is a messy black color that's rather long, flitting around his head in rugged locks that seems to go well with his overall appearance. His build is that of a man that has controlled strength and speed; lean, sinewy muscles that are as taut as a wire, ready to snap in a blur when necessary. This gives him astounding agility and speed, while only helping his physical strength, seeing as he is capable of physically demanding tasks such as climbing, decapitating, cracking necks...yeah, a lot of things.

History: He was born, originally, in the mountains of Skyrim. This isn't very uncommon, yes, but most dramatic stories doesn't start off exciting and full of adventure. Well, his parents were both Imperial merchants, and the boy spent most of his life travelling throughout numerous strong-holds, fighting off bandits and wolves whilst his parents peddled and sold their fake merchandise. He became loving of the dagger and bow, and whilst his parents attempted to teach him to speak as if his tonsils were oiled with troll fat, Malum spent his time training everytime they went out into the world. Bandits - murdering humans became something as easy as cutting a toenail, and his parents obviously didn't care. The greedy buggers decided that, if their son became an experienced mercenary, this would help them with avoiding having to pay a few Septims to hire a simple guard. Yeah, this continued, until Malum - a sociopathic ten year old - was awoken by a gutted scream.

He ran through their little log cabin, and he can remember the sound his little mammoth-haired slippers made as they slapped against the wooden floorboards. Sure enough...his parents were dead, and a black and crimson figure was escaping through the window. Malum whipped out a dagger, flicking it towards the assassin with years of pent-up annoyance and skill. It severed the assassin's spine...and more of them converged onto his location like crows to a corpse. He tried to fight them off...didn't work. He was gagged and bound, and then sent off into the Dark Brotherhood. The rest is history. Just know that he was trained there, and would have became the Listener...if...well...until his little 'sector' was decimated by a sudden onslaught of guards, forcibly tamed giants, mammoths, and other large beasts. Apparently someone ratted, and it was all over. Malum worked quickly, a blur of blood as he slayed dozens upon dozens of bodies. It was an extremely bloody battle...but eventually...it was all for naught. The man had locked away all of his armor, weapons, and possessions, throwing on some common clothes right before he was found and hauled away.

A Skyrim RP?

Yooo, awesome. Got our whole cast here I'd say.

I'm making a Dark Elf, former Dark Brotherhood assassin............Dragonborn. Had to add that part to it.

Anyways, everyone cool with the first idea? If there's a lot of cloak and dagger people, then I'll go with my badass Barbarian Orc character.

A Skyrim RP?

Yes, Skyrim. I was thinking...maybe around five people with me included, and us being on the prisoner carriage...like in the beginning of the original Skyrim game. Maybe some old witch spoke of a prophecy; Five Dragonborns banding together, from shallow ends, to defeat Alduin.

Or not.

I'm fine with a free-roam-esque thing as well. I don't know; I'm pretty lazy, and not the best when coming up with ideas. Any suggestions?

LEFT 4 DEAD:

Did he just perform a 360 off the wall titty flip malatov cocktail bank shot trick shot?

LEFT 4 DEAD:

Apologies. The words 'a...midget,' has been deleted from my post.

Edit: My avatar really makes apologizing seem sarcastic and trollish. Sorry about that.

LEFT 4 DEAD:

With a grunt, Anthony pulled his blade out of the last of the Infected, wiping the combat knife against his fatigues as he glanced around. There was the African American boy that he saved, and a female that seemed way too cheery for such a grim setting. Giving the kid a nod of welcome, Anthony sheathed his knife and busied himself with reloading his pistol. There wasn't much for him to say, and he planned on moving towards that Ranger Station he had read on his map. He just needed a brief rest before moving on.

Crouching beside a dead Infected, Anthony took out a bottle of water, taking a large gulp from the purified liquid.

LEFT 4 DEAD:

Oh. Who'd you scare?

LEFT 4 DEAD:

wot

Hope you have a fun time!

Unless it's a funeral. Shit.

LEFT 4 DEAD:

Sorry about that, Manus.

I mean Pathfinder.

My avatar makes everything look sarcastic, so sorry about that as well, lmao.

LEFT 4 DEAD:

Judging from the map, he was coming close to some sort of campsite...

Folding the worn brown paper back into his pocket, Anthony frowned, taking out his long, serrated combat utility knife, and surveying the forest around him. There was the occasional infected walking around, but thankfully, no one had noticed the man due to his default steps being silent. He knew that he would have to kill the herd to make it to the campsite, where he would, hopefully, be able to scavenge a bit more MREs before moving on. Dashing forward, Anthony linebacker-tackled the first of the infected, the brutal takedown slamming the undead violently against the ground, and busting it's head open in a blast of blood. Lunging off of the mutilated body, Anthony ripped his knife through the second infected, throwing it's body to the ground before turning on his heel, and cracking his fist against yet another one of the infected's skulls. Within seconds, the former Marine had tore completely through the horde of ten or so infected, and he breathed out heavily, walking into the campsite.

"Final-" He began, but scowled at the scene of numerous infected slamming against a cabin. Obviously, there was someone inside of it. "Semper Fidelis." Taking out his Deagle, Anthony settled into a fluid Weaver stance, pistol cracking as bullet after hot bullet tore from the gun and accurately entered the back of each infected's head. As soon as his clip was spent, Anthony holstered his weapon and lashed out with a kick, brutally decapitating an Infected that had dashed for him. Spinning with the momentum, he unsheathed his knife and jerked it into the head of another zombie, pulling it out with a 'squelch' and sizing up the last of the Infected.

"Whomever's in there, I'd appreciate some help." He called out calmly, taking out his pistol and placing a few more rounds into the distracted herd.