Trigani

The Elder Scrolls: A World Torn

Where are we supposed to be?

The Elder Scrolls: A World Torn

Last time I checked... Vaynce punched some drunk loser in the face, inpressed Tarja Walks-in-light is dong some sort of smuggling deal with Brannus And Murkan is geting pissed off because his chatty employer keeps pestering him Although a few posts have happened since i checked last night so i probably missed a few things

@Vortex

You're spot on, chap.

The Elder Scrolls: A World Torn

"You're so interesting for an Orc, where did y-" The Breton was cut short, a drunken Nord was about to topple on them, until another one grabbed the drunk by the throat. What happened next was rather interesting. The drunk was swung about and ended up on the ground. The other one was bending down over the defeated man. "Name's Vaynce." the Nord said. "Go get a room. Long night." Murkan said to his employer. So the Breton went over to the bar and sat down, waiting for Mildred to come back. Murkan continued to look at the man before him. "Pathetic...weak.." He mumbled. Embry must have heard the Orc ridicule him,"Shove off, you pig." The man said through what was left of his teeth. Murkan frowned and ignored the man, he walked over the man and to the merchant. "Makin' friends are we Orc?" The Breton chuckled. Mildred finally came back. Murkan noticed the barmaiden give a few quick looks at the Nord who seemed to end some of her disguist, and a lass who was talking to the Nord. The lass was quite the specimen, she was rather tall, taller than some of the men-patrons who were in the tavern. She was also somewhat built, not a rare sight on a Nordic women, but impressive nonetheless. The pair of Nords seemed to have a type of aura about them that the Orc couldn't quite figure out. The Breton ordered up around for himself and the Orc, yet again. Murkan was silently slamming his mead whilst his companion was trying to interrogate him. "Like I was saying, where did ya come from, Orc? You from out of Skyrim?" The Breton peered from behind his cup. "Murkan thinks you ask too many questions, Breton. Drink more, talk less." Murkan stamped that with a slam of his cup, signifying it was empty. Mildred came over to get him more, he put his hand over the cup, signifying he didn't want anymore. The Breton continued on, asking questions and annoying the Orc as much as he could.

The Elder Scrolls: A World Torn

The wind howled and screeched as snow was blanketing the view ahead. The fact it was night made it only worse. The threat of wolves and other wildlife was ever prevalent, along with the fact there was no light to guide the way. The moon didn't seem to exist at that moment. The path ahead was covered with knee high amount of snow. The darkness made it hard to see where the cliff was. "Orc, it's so damn cold. I can barely feel my fingers." A Breton merchant cried out. Murkan grunted an affirmative response. "Does this weather not affect you, Orc?" The young Breton asked. Murkan ignored the question and continued forth, braving the elements. The Breton's father hired Murkan to escort and protect his son, along with a cart full of assortment of goods. The pay was to be negotiated upon arrival, and gold was at a shortage for Murkan so he had no choice but to accept the terms. It was several nights from Markarth, their starting point. The Breton hugged himself with his fur coat, riding on the cart as a duo of horses pulled it, leaving Murkan to travel by foot. "Weather is not what worries me, Breton. Your four-legged beasts are attracting attention." Murkan finally spoke, the air was so cold that his words froze as he said. "What are you talking about, Orc? There is only us." The Breton stuttered while he tried to mock. Murkan turned his head, as if he was addressing what attention was being drawn. The man only saw the vastness of darkness and snow. The Mer's eyes followed small shadows that danced around them. "Wolves." Murkan has watched the beasts track them since the storm began. He knew that the wolves sensed that the horses were getting tired and if they didn't reach the "safety" of Winterhold, the wolves would be upon them soon. It seemed as if the horses figured out what was happening too, they moved quicker, forcing Murkan to quicken his pace to stay along side the cart. Murkan gave only a slight grin that was hidden by his helmet. As they got closer, if night and the storm weren't upon them, the duo would've been able to see the College of Winterhold and the village it casted its' shadow over. They could see fragments of light fight through the darkness. "We are there, Orc. We shall rest at the tavern and then in the morning, we discuss how well you did." The Breton managed to smile through the wind. A dark outlined loomed over the duo, to both of them it was obvious it was the College. As they entered town, they could see how small it really was. Murkan had never been to Winterhold before, his distaste towards mages and magic made it an unacceptable place to go to, until now. As the Breton rode his cart into a narrow space, Murkan looked around. There were few shops, a tavern, and the Jarl's longhouse. "The chests are locked, and I don't expect anyone to try to carry them away during this storm." The Breton tuck a small box into his coat and pointed towards the tavern. "What of the horses?" Murkan asked. The Breton shrugged, "Father can always get more." and with that the duo entered the tavern. Warmth wafted over them, Murkan was silently relieved that they finally arrived. The Breton was quick to make his relief public. "Ah, time to let these fingers thaw and down some mead to really help with the warmth." Murkan ignored his companion's comment yet again, his eyes went over the patrons of the tavern. He noticed what seemed to be an Argonian and a rather large Nord speaking to each other. Another rather large Nord was at the bar, peering at the table before him. A houndish beast laid near the fire. The Breton called Murkan over to a small table in the corner, where the fire casted very little light, whom quickly joined the merchant who was already ordering up cups of mead for the both of them. "With these goods, Father shall be pleased, maybe he will let me take care of the family business while he is away." Murkan gave a quick frown, then proceeded to bring the Nordic swill to his lips. It tasted awful, but the feeling afterwards made the tips of his ears warm. The Orc downed it while the Breton took his sweet time. "So, Orc." The Breton set down his mead. "What were you doing in Markarth at the time?" Murkan's memory casted him back. At that time, he was busy with helping clear out Dwemer machines that were uncovered in a new part of Nchuand-Zel. The Breton continued to wait for the Orc to respond. "Murkan was helping in the Dwarven ruins." he finally responded. The merchant's eyebrows raised sarcastically as he brought the cup to his mouth. Murkan was getting annoyed with this Merchant's son, he wanted his coin and then to leave Winterhold.

The Elder Scrolls: A World Torn

It's just a graphics overhaul. Morrowind would have the graphics that Skyrim does.

The Elder Scrolls: A World Torn

Well now I really wanna look for it! Also graphics don't matter a whole lot to me. There's just one period of game graphics that I don't like.

@rocketrobie2

Some people don't play games unless the graphics are nice. I just hope the gameplay would be smoother due to the overhaul.

The Elder Scrolls: A World Torn

On PC, some modders are doing a remake of Morrowind's graphics to be similar to Skyrim.

The Elder Scrolls: A World Torn

That's what kinda turned me away from it first was the fee. Main reason I don't play WoW anymore, couldn't afford it :/ Blandness is kinda typical of MMORPGs honestly.

@Rusalka

I find MMORPGS hard to get into. Most of them are overwhelming

The Elder Scrolls: A World Torn

ESO is rather bland. Not much to it. But it's coming out as f2p I believe, well you buy the game and you don't pay the subscription fee

The Elder Scrolls: A World Torn

Murkan Gro-Dushbak Ex-Legionnaire/Sellsword Orc Warrior Male 37 years

Appearance

Personality: Murkan is short-tempered and sullen, preferring to cleave Man, Mer, or beasts in half rather than talking situations out, and to act rather than to ponder. Being raised in a stronghold, he was brought up to believe in bringing honor to him and his family. He’d rather die with honor than to fight and live as a coward. He has a sort of distaste to outsiders, those from outside the Imperial Legion and his stronghold, and comes off as wary to them. He also has a stronger and more violent distaste towards those whom dabble in the schools of magic, believing they are cowards and less honorable. Height: 5’ 9” Weight: 202 lb Weapons: Orcish Battleaxe, 2x steel daggers Bio: Born in one of the strongholds of Skyrim, Murkan grew up learning the ways of the orcish smith, the ways of the warrior and the “Code of Malacath”. Most of his life was confined inside the wooden palisades of the stronghold. One of his seven brothers and himself were destined to challenge their father, the Chieftain, in order to succeed leadership. Murkan had no desire to become chieftain and strayed away from the squabbles of his other siblings. When the Stormcloak Rebellion raged out, Murkan was one of the several brothers who went to join the Imperial Legion. Murkan had his own influences. He desired for adventure and to prove himself as a capable warrior to Malacath, hoping to gain favor. He also heard that the Stormcloak leader, Ulfric Stormcloak, used his magical voice to murder the High King Torygg, which Murkan viewed as a cowardice act. Murkan was sent to the front lines, along with one of his other brothers. They were encamped with around thirty other men. They endured cold days and even colder nights, lurking wildlife, and the looming threat of Stormcloak soldiers. During one of the coldest nights, Stormcloak troops snuck past look-outs that were stationed around the camp. It was a downright slaughter. Murkan came back from gathering firewood to watch as his brothers and comrades were slaughtered in their sleep. He let out of a bloodcurdling roar, which woke up the soldiers who weren't being gutted. They quickly gathered together to repel the attack. Murkan charged a duo of archers with his brother’s battleaxe. He tore them apart before setting upon the rest of the Stormcloaks. Murkan and his band of the tired and wounded managed to send the Stormcloaks back to the depths of the night. When morning arose, only the frozen bloodied bodies of the fallen remained. Murkan and the rest had to move back and join up with another unit to maintain full strength. Later in the day, Murkan received word that some of his other brothers died in similar attacks to the one he experienced. By the time Murkan had joined the war, it had soonly ended. The Stormcloak had taken Solitude and Castle Dour, the Fourth Legion that was stationed in Skyrim had crumbled. Word was spread that the Stormcloak had won. Instead of retreating with the rest of the Imperial Legion, Murkan shed his soldier’s clothing and took up arms as a sellsword. For years after the war, Murkan worked for Jarls, merchants, noble families, anyone who could afford him. He preferred working alone, using his brute strength to get the job done. He knew he could work all over, gaining vast amounts of wealth, but he could never get the will to leave Skyrim, as if something was keeping him there. Other: Has armor as shown in image above.