nethgros

Seeing the grand city invoked memories of his dream, or rather his vision of Shaundakul. He had finally arrived, and now all that was left was to find the temple. He stood admiring the city and thinking of the task at hand when Rhaine asked for the location of the temple, drawing his attention to her and then the woman behind her. The pile of ashes suggested he had just missed something, but it didn't really matter to him. "If I'm correct it should be a short distance from here. Possibly atop a hill or something of the sort. Truthfully I have no idea, though I doubt we'll get the chance to ask anyone around here." Othos spoke in a rather distant tone, wrapped in thought. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The vision Haxxon was given of his people being torn to shreds actually made the orc laugh quite loudly, for the first time in a long time. "Your threats are unnecessary devil, I accept your patronage. I would like to see my hordes take back this land, and more. Just what did you have in mind?"

Haxxon watched the two throughout their introductions, giving them time to explain themselves before speaking himself. At the end he finally spoke up, but not to the two in front of him, "Everyone, get out." A large group of orcs had followed the two through the Hollow Mountain as they barged their way through, all greatly interested in these two women who felt higher than the orcs. On the Orc-King's command every one of them turned and left, with few mutterings of displeasure heard. Once he could see that there were none left save for he and his 'guests' he turned his gaze back to them. "What do you want, demons? If you're looking for slaves, then you should know that I bow to no one, and my orcs are the same. I have no problem killing you both where you stand, but out of courtesy to your beauty I will give you time to speak before deciding your fates."

Kowolj was just about to order another round when Rhaine announced their departure, and Othos slapped him on the shoulder before he left also to signify that Kowolj needed to get moving. They walked out of the inn behind her, looking at the little kender as they passed by. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Haxxon sat on his throne with his elbow on the armrest and his head in his hand, drifting somewhere between sleep and consciousness. Just then one of his men ran in to the room hooting and hollering some gibberish, obviously excited by the news he had. Haxxon opened his good eye fully to meet the orc and after a few moments of listen to his incoherent talk Haxxon finally spoke up with the voice of low thunder, "You there, stop your jabbering. Just give me the news, nice and easy-like." The orc stop and took a breath before spitting it out, "There are two women that have entered the mountain. They seem quite powerful... the rats are all running from them!" Haxxon thought for a moment. He had no idea who these people could be, and not many besides the dwarves in this region even knew the precise location of this particular mountain in this range. Whoever they were, they must have had good connections. But to come here, they had to be suicidal or a completely new type of powerful. "Bring them here. I want to see these things myself." The orc bowed a few times before running back out of Haxxon's large chamber, running around through the tunnels toward the entrance. It wasn't too long before he happened upon the two, and they shimmered like goddesses. This orc dressed in old tattered dwarven mail that didn't quite fit with furs was nothing compared to these two, and he couldn't help but stare. He liked the way they looked, but whether that was as women or as food, it remained to be seen. He spoke up with a gruff uncivilized tone to address the two, "Hey, you there, boss Haxxon wants to see you two. I'm not sure why... but that's why he's boss and not me."

Sitting in the bar, even Kharek could tell that it was all about to go down. What it was had yet to be seen, but it would no doubt be bloody. The bar was extremely dirty in a rundown back alley in one of the worst sections of Omega, filled to the brim with only vorcha and batarians like himself. The gunshots started up and the flashbacks started, reminding him all to well of his old gladiatorial days; he loved it. He stood up from the bar and almost sprinted out of the place, headed directly toward the gunshots. He didn't know what was going on, but he needed to be a part of the action. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Dylan was dancing in Afterlife, his mind twisted from the red sand he had earlier. He wouldn't have noticed it if one of them hadn't bumped into him, but the few Eagles that occupied the club seemed to be getting really anxious, which was completely unlike them. There was only one person who could caused this, and he knew she would be coming right here... He couldn't think very well, but when the thought of killing them grazed his mind he picked it out and held it tight, his choice made. There were only six of them spread throughout the club, but they all seemed to be in touch through comm-links. He was intent on not giving them a chance to realize what was happening. He drew his weapons as inconspicuously as he could, starting off the bloodbath with beheading an Eagle in the middle of the dance floor, sending all the patrons running and screaming. The next moment he biotically charged at a member against the wall, sending him crashing into it, topped off with a stab to the throat for good measure. At this time the rest finally reacted, showering bullets in his direction. One stood at the bottom of the stairs leading to Aria's old spot, with the last three occupying said spot. He ran for the stairs, giving the man at the bottom a shot from his pistol. The sheer stopping power of the pistol made up for the fact that it shot once before needing to be reloaded. He flew back against the wall and on further inspection the man's chest sported a rather large hole slightly to the right of his heart: not a perfect shot. He sprinted up the stairs while empowering his blade with biotic power, unleashing it in a whirling torrent at the top that sent the men to their knees. He then dispatched them each one by one, pushing his blade down through the top of their skulls. There was no doubt that they had called for backup, but he couldn't help but feel pleased with his abilities. He sat down in the very spot where the Queen of Omega had sat and produced a small vial he had stashed away, intent on 'dusting up' before having to deal with any more fighting.

The argonian's blathering had no effect on Grimskar's wish to join them, but he couldn't help but think how bitter this fishwoman must be. "You speak of setting our petty differences aside, and yet you are obviously displeased with my presence. I am but one man; I do not represent the Companions. How about we just say that I have left them to lay down my life for this land? Just try to get over yourself argonian, and everything should go smoothly." Walking to the Jarl's hall it seemed as though more added on to their group with each step, with a khajiit woman jumping down from the rafters no less! They would be in for quite an excitable journey it seemed, and now all that was left was to see just what the Jarl had in store.

Sitting in Jorrvaskr Grimskar mulled over the recent losses inflicted by the Thalmor. He only wished their was something else that could have been done, but he knew there wasn't. Still, he was itching to bring the fight to them, since in his mind he couldn't protect everyone by just sitting around here waiting for the next attack. As if sent by the All-Maker himself, one of his fellow companions arrived with fresh news about newcomers to the city, "A group has entered the city, and there has been talk that they intend on fighting the Thalmor head on-" Before they could finish what they were saying Grimskar stood up and walked quickly out of the mead hall. Outside he could easily see the group moving toward Dragonsreach, and quickly moved to catch up with them. From what he could see the group consisted of a knight-woman, an argonian warrior, and what seemed to be a blind man. Of course, there could be others he didn't yet see. He approached the knight first, who seemed to be the most venerable, "I've heard word that you seek to fight back against the Thalmor. I am Grimskar, and I would lend you my aid in this task. I would like nothing more than to crush the skulls of these mer who so rightfully deserve it." He examined the two fighters before him, though their worth couldn't be seen until the heat of battle. The same could be said for the blind man, but Grimskar only gazed to him quickly as he couldn't put his faith in the abilities of a man with no sight. "They call me many things here: the Bear, the Frozen Hammer, Iceblood. But first and foremost I am a Companion, and I would ask if I could now be yours."

Thought of my third Name: Grimskar the Bear Race: Nord (Skaal) Gender: Male Age: 48 Appearance: A large old man standing 6'5 with the muscles of a young man. Grimskar has been through a lot, though his body is in top condition and devoid of scarring due to his regenerative nature as a lycanthrope. He has short, shaggy white hair and a long white beard, which added to his haggard face he has the look of a wizened veteran warrior, and he is. His right eye is blue and his left is dead, leaving the eye pale and whitened over. As a werebear his eyes are the same, and his fur is white. Skills: Two-handed blunt, heavy armor, light armor, destruction (frost), armorer, athletics. Equipment: Nordic Armor, without helmet >http://images.wikia.com/elderscrolls/images/f/f4/Nordic_Carved_Armor_-_Both.png Stalhrim Warhammer with frost enchant >http://images.wikia.com/elderscrolls/images/3/39/StalhrimWH.png Homeland: Skaal Village, Solstheim Personality: Grimskar has a cold, serious demeanor. He rarely laughs, and war is never ever something to laugh at for him. He is known to actually beat men to a pulp for their ignorance in he horrors of war. He believes in the All-Maker, along with his fellow skaal, and believes that each severance of life needs justification, even though that life is bound to return in another form. He doesn't share in the 'traditional' nord belief in finding honor and glory on the battlefield; instead he believes that honor and glory are to be had when you protect the things you care about and those that can't protect themselves. Background: Born in the Skaal Village, Grimskar was set to live his life with his people, always living each day for the All-Maker. However in a bold decision during his teenage years he committed a great taboo and created a warhammer out of sacred Stalhrim. This led to his exile, which saddened him greatly, and he walked into the cold north intent on death. In the north he found a Werebear, which are highly revered and feared by the Skaal, but Grimskar felt nothing for this creature, just as it felt nothing for him. After emerging victorious with his bloodied hammer he found an invigoration had taken him on a new path in life, and left Solstheim for a life of adventure. However his nature soon became apparent, and he could no longer hide from himself that he had gotten more that day then just a new outlook on life; he was now one himself. This still meant little to him and he continued on, making a name for himself and finding excitement wherever he could. By his 30th year he was married, and living a happy sedentary life. However, the civil war called to him, and he knew that if neither side won there would end up being more death than if one did sooner, and with that he joined the Stormcloaks to rid Skyrim not of the Empire but of the Thalmor who controlled them like puppets. For eight years he fought for Skyrim, and in the end they fell to the empire. As a fugitive, he tried his best to return to his wife, but was thwarted at every attempt. When he finally did return home, some time after the breaking of the White-Gold Concordat, he found his village burning to the ground at the hands of the Thalmor. With nothing left he left to Whiterun and became a Companion so that he might help those in need with his great power.

The time Mendil and Udilin spent in Windhelm amounted to them going through the city from the docks to the entrance. The city itself was in good shape but the people were in obvious fear, and talk of the Thalmor was present everywhere. Along with this was talk of Whiterun, which seemed to have taken quite a beating. This seemed like as good a place as any to start looking into the Thalmor, so Mendil arranged for a wagon outside of the city to take them to Whiterun. Soon they would see just what these evil mer were capable of...

Character Name: Kharek Character Race: Batarian Character Class: Soldier / Gladiator Gender: Male Age: 35 Height: 6'0 Weight: 250lbs Eyes: All black Hair(if applicable): None Appearance: http://th08.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2012/198/2/9/mass_effect_3__mp_batarian_soldier___blade_armour__by_troodon80-d57kzb5.jpg Weapons: M-96 Mattock, Kishock Harpoon Gun Armour/Clothing: He never wears clothing, always preferring his armor in any situation. His armor has very low shields but very thick defenses, including blades which stave off would-be melee attackers. Powers / abilities: He has access to several exotic abilities as a result of being a batarian and a gladiator. These include ballistic blades he can fire with a shotgun-like effect from his omni-tool, an omni-tool weapon known as an Enforcement Gauntlet, and a Submission Net designed to destroy shields while incapacitating enemies. Along with these he also makes use of inferno grenades. Weapon mods: None for the harpoon gun. For the Mattock: Piercing mod, and Extended barrel Skills: He really has no other skills besides his combat skills, which are very advanced Personality: Kharek is a disillusioned, sadistic, masochistic individual who holds very little value in life. His time as a gladiator erased any past racism he might of held, instead he views one's worth based on the power they possess. History/Background: Kharek was the son of a powerful batarian pirate before he was captured, enslaved, and raised as a gladiator. Most of his life in fact he was a gladiator, his very survival solely dependent on his ability to kill his opponent. This violent lifestyle changed him into a rather barbaric person, even by batarian standards. After winning his freedom at the age of 30, Kharek had to acclimate to a lifestyle that didn't fit him well, and he wound up becoming one of the most respected, feared, and sought-after freelance mercenaries in the Terminus. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Character Name: Dylan Byrnstrom Character Race: Human Character Class: Vanguard / N7 Slayer Gender: Male Age: 26 Height: 5'10 Weight: 180lbs Eyes: Brown, extremely bloodshot Hair(if applicable): Short black hair Appearance: He has tanned skin and a square jaw with high cheekbones. He has a rugged appearance that is augmented by his use of red sand, which gives him extremely bloodshot eyes and causes his teeth to lightly glow red. Weapons: Executioner Pistol in black, Monomolecular Blade Armour/Clothing: http://th00.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/i/2012/212/4/9/mass_effect_3__mp_n7_slayer_vanguard_ref__by_troodon80-d599j4g.jpg Dylan's armor is lightweight to provide ease of movement, and has no shielding due to his reliance on his biotic barrier. Powers / abilities: He has a wide range of biotic abilities, but his expertise lies in melee combat and the use of Biotic Charge, Biotic Slash, and Phase Disruptor which takes some of his biotic barrier and condenses it into a precise beam attack. Weapon mods: Ultralight materials, Heavy barrel, and power magnifier for his pistol. Skills: Biotics, melee combat, and lying. Personality: Dylan is a hedonist who loves doing what he wants, at any cost. Sometimes people get in the way, and he has no qualms about getting past them to his goal. His red sand problem has the effect of both increasing his biotic ability, while also making his behavior quite erratic. For the most part he is a fun-loving guy who likes having a good time, and never has a problem with anyone who can learn to mind their own business. History/Background: At a very young age Dylan was taken from his family and put into Jon Grissom Academy to learn to control his biotics. After spending his early childhood becoming a biotic paragon, he was transferred to Earth to take part in the N7 program for the Alliance. Upon graduating, he was sent on his first mission to Omega where he got into red sand, which eventually led to him defecting so that he might live the life he wished to live, instead of the life he was pushed into.

Othos didn't even need to say anything, opting instead to give Kowolj an expression that he had seen so many times before: that he had crossed the line. That along with the others reacting as suddenly as they did made Kowolj take back his hand and walk back to his seat without bothering to answer Hexol's question, where he once again began drinking. Othos looked down at Hexol to speak with him, "Sorry about that little one. Kowolj still has his moments where right and wrong doesn't register to him. As for where you are, you are at the inn which currently is largely occupied by our adventuring group, led by none other than the winged woman before you."

Today was the day, the day Mendil would be officially become a working extension of House Redoran. A week ago it was decided by the council that he would be tasked with looking into the Thalmor threat in Skyrim, and today was they day he would leave Raven Rock for Windhelm. Clad in his full suit of bonemold armor, save the helmet which hung from his belt, Mendil made his way down to the docks to board the ship. Arriving at the ship he found its nord crew and one extra passenger; one he had definitely seen before. This mer sitting here in chitin armor was none other than his childhood friend Udilin, who already knew of Mendil's journey and intended to join. No words were spoken, instead Mendil offered his friend a smile in appreciation of what he was doing; Udilin never really liked formal thanks anyhow, a trait he picked up from his Telvanni rolemodel, Neloth. He payed his fee to the captain, took his seat in the ship, and they departed soon after on the trip for Windhelm.

Othos spent the time Nawen took to make the antidote by looking over her shoulder, trying in some degree to absorb some of her medical skill, but to no avail. After she finished and gave him the antidote he took it up and offered her a large smile and his most sincerest thanks. He hurried to Kowolj who was still in a comatose state and grabbed him by the jaw, turning his head, opening his mouth, and pouring the antidote down his throat. The antidote kicked in within moments, and Kowolj quickly laid up out of the bed and looked around wildly until his eyes settled upon the dead pig laying half way out of the window. "Ohhh, thank the spirits! I kept trying to wake up, and I thought someone was going to steal my food. What happened Othos?" Othos shook his head and chuckled slightly before answering, "You don't even know what you did last night? Well neither do I, so I couldn't tell you... Just try to tone it down, alright?" Kowolj was already moving across the room to the pig while Othos spoke to him, and filled his mouth with raw pig flesh before answering with blood dribbling down his mouth, "Mmmm... H-yeah, toned down. Already done! This is sooo good..." ------------------------------------------------------------------- Three days later Othos was sitting in the inn doing pretty much nothing when Rhaine arrived with her brand new armor, which reminded Othos of his blade. He immediately become greatly excited, and got up to go get his sword. "It seems our friend was just as good as we thought he was. Your armor is absolutely exquisite; I can only hope my sword is of a similar quality." With that he left to the blacksmith to retrieve his sword. Kowolj had spent the last three days doing the opposite of what Othos had told him, and each night was full of more hedonism and debauchery than the last. By the third day he was a complete wreck, and would've been unable to stand had it not been for the fact he had four legs to balance on. He greatly resembled a monster that any mother might warn their children about, his fur caked with blood and his mind obviously in the throes of a drunken stupor. He was still drinking when Rhaine arrived, and what caught his attention was not her new armor but the small person hidden behind her. At first he thought he might be seeing things, but when it began speaking and the others acknowledged him Kowolj knew that this was no hallucination. It resembled a child somewhat, but no child would be here. Perhaps Rhaine had brought him something for his good behavior! The young ones were known to be quite tender. "Mistressh, that for me?" He asked with a cocked head and a large smile bearing his large teeth, "You know Kowolj so well! I've alwaysh wanted one of me own." He kneeled down on his front legs to address the little man, "Hey there lil' fellah, don't be scared! I won't hurt you (much he thought his neck looks pretty flimsy). Come here to uncle, I got something shiny for you..." He held out his hand with five gold coins in it with his retractable claws sticking out in anticipation. Meanwhile, Othos arrived at the blacksmith and entered while calling out for Dalindeg. The dwarf appeared with the sword in his hand, though it wasn't exactly the katana Othos had expected. "Like I said boy, my skill in making eastern weapons is a bit lacking, so I made you the best damn sword I could. I even folded the metal some, though not to the degree that them eastern masters might," The dwarf had a large smile on his face showing his pride in the sword he had made. Othos found his smile to be infectious as one appeared on his face as the dwarf handed the sword to him carefully to be inspected. The black blade had a distinctly green sheen to it, identifying it as adamantine. It lacked the curve of a normal katana, being a straight single edged blade, and was about an inch or so thicker. However, the strength of the blade was evident as Othos held it, and the sharp edge was clear as soon as he ran his finger across it softly, almost immediately drawing blood. In addition it had no guard and the handle was quite simple (a simple leather wrapping), but the quality of the blade was so great that Othos fell in love that instant. It reminded him of his previous blade, being as simple as it was, but it was of course of a far greater caliber. The sheath was a simple leather sheath with fur inside, likely to clean the blade when it is put away. "Gods... I have no words to express my gratitude... Just... Thank you, so much!" "No need to thank me boy, I was only do as was asked of me," though the look on the dwarfs face said otherwise, as he was certainly grateful that his fine work was so appreciated, "Now before we speak about payment, there is the matter of your leftover adamantine to talk about..." "Keep it, I don't need the rest," as he spoke Othos took out a large bag filled with gold and handed it to the dwarf, "Here, this is your payment. And thank you again." With that he left to return to the inn.

Great sheet mythic! ;D Though, your shining metal armor should probably be made of silver and ebony, rather than adamantine (no such thing in Elder Scrolls). :happy: Auri, excellent peoples! A mage, warrior, and rogue very nice. :biggrin: Nice thief Nightshade! ;D She'll definitely help out with all the stealthy stuffs.

Name: Udilin Andrethi Race: Dunmer Gender: Male Age: 29 Appearance: Near black skin, blood red eyes, and smooth black hair kept at a short length. He has an athletic build and a tattoo of House Telvanni's symbol on his back Skills: Blade Light Armor Illusion Enchanting Conjuration Alteration Speech Equipment: Chitin Armor>http://images.wikia.com/elderscrolls/images/f/f8/Chitin_Armor_-_Both.png Ebony Longsword with shock enchant on his back>http://static.skyrim.nexusmods.com/mods/images/26261-1-1354368669.jpg A heartstone necklace with a resist magic enchant he uses to bind ashspawn to himself Homeland: Raven Rock, Solstheim Personality: Ulidin is a staunch follower of the Reclaimation Boethiah and takes great pride in killing in her name. He has a great deal of pride in himself that dances on the border of arrogance, as he believes his heritage and power places him above the common mortal. He is also quite eccentric and finds little point in using formalities, preferring to get straight to business. In accordance with his patron, he has no qualms in using deception to accomplish his methods, and finds no fear in death. He is an adventurous soul who prefers to move around accomplishing things rather than staying in one place. From his time in a nordic mead hall he has also picked up a love for honor and glory, wishing for his name to be known by as many as possible. Background: Growing up on Solstheim, he was always a rather independent and adventurous child, making his way around Solstheim on various adventures. The only friend he managed to make was Mendil Redoran, who also enjoyed travelling with him on adventures. From an early age he frequented Tel Mithryn, where he was taught magic by the renowned master wizard Neloth. Beginning in his teens he also began to frequent Thirsk Mead Hall where he picked up some nordic traditions while also honing his combat skills, excelling in the use of one sword. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Name: Mendil Sarethi Race: Dunmer Gender: Male Age: 25 Appearance: He has ashy grey skin, bright red eyes, and long silky white hair he keeps in a top-knot with a light beard and mustache He has a very bulky muscular build for a dunmer stemming from his rigorous training and also many deep scars from said training. Skills: Blunt Block Heavy Armor Armorer Athletics Restoration Archery Equipment: Bonemold Armor>http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2013/040/c/d/skyrimbonemoldarmor_by_gameparkproductions-d5ubzm7.png Bonemold Shield>http://images.wikia.com/elderscrolls/images/b/b6/Bonemold_Shield_DB.png Dragonbone Mace>http://images.wikia.com/elderscrolls/images/d/df/Dragonmace.png Homeland: Blacklight, Morrowind Personality: Mendil is a warm hospitable fellow with many friends and few enemies. He has great respect for his house and his ancestors, following their code very closely. He is a staunch, stalwart, and stoic warrior with a jovial mood in most situations but can easily become as emotionless as stone when required. His loyalty to House Redoran has earned him a great deal of respect from many dunmer, who see him as a prime example of everything good the Redoran have to offer. Background: Growing up as a Redoran in Redoran controlled Raven Rock gave Mendil many expectations to live up to, and he was always determined to succeed. At a young age he was groomed to be a great member of House Redoran, as his father was a well respected Ordinator in Blacklight who sent him with his mother to be raised in Raven Rock. In his early years he had a bit more freedom, which he chose to use by adventuring around the island with his friend Ulidin. Upon coming of age he was put into a strict regimen to turn him into a great fighter. The only time he strayed from the orthodox Redoran way was when he chose to adopt the mace as his weapon of choice rather than the long sword as is commonplace, choosing to honor his father as an ordinator by sharing his chosen weapon.

It was so difficult to control his body at the moment, and he still wasn't sure exactly how he had managed to make it this far. In actuality he had no idea how far he had came, or from where, or where he was currently. Realizing he was lost he stopped and finally looked up from the ground to have his sight graced by a large tower directly in front of him, surrounded by (pretty much) nothing. The light was so bright he wasn't sure if what he was seeing was real, so he asked his robobrain to confirm, "H-hey, HEY! Skybot! You seein' that too? Looks preeeetty... fancy, yeah?" The robot was a short distance behind him and responded rather quickly to his questions, "If you are referring to the tower, yes, it is real. You don't need to worry about this being like the time with the elephant. As for it being "fancy", it would appear so." There was a wall surrounding the tower, but luckily the front gate was wide open, and no one seemed to be around. The place did look like it had been through some rough stuff too, and rather recently. Though that observation was only made by the robot, as Skyman was too busy staggering his way straight into the building. "Looks like we got the place all to ourselves buddy. You can look around if you want, I need a nap, this Med-X is hittin' me pretty hard now that we're out of that damn sun. How many did I have anyway?" "Five in the past twelve hours." "Five?! How long have I been awake?!" "Thirty seven hours." His mouth hung agape in shock at the revelation of the reality of his current condition, and the numb sensation he had been feeling intensified at this truth being revealed. He barely managed to make his way over to the counter before collapsing to his knees in a sudden lethargy that felt much like his sleep deprivation and his med-x binge had both collapsed on top of him. He crawled behind the counter and rolled over to his back before falling asleep. Skybot rolled up to the counter and stopped right in front of it, prepared to wait for his human companion to wake back up from his deactivation cycle.

Nice to be back ;D I updated his appearance because I felt it was a bit lacking. Edit: I edited some more too. Switched weapon and added a 'pet'.

Name: Skyman Gender: Male Age: 23 Race: Human (Tribal) Karmic Alignment: Neutral Appearance: At 5'8 his frame seems extremely stocky, as his musculature makes him look wider than most people tend to be. His brown eyes and shaggy brown hair aren't unique in the slightest, but together with his ragged face they show his tribal background rather well. His eyes are eternally encircled by dark rings gained through his extensive drug use and his common deprivation of living essentials. The insides of both his elbows are riddled with marks indicating his use of chems, but none of them are life threatening. In addition to these things his drug use has caused his veins to show distinctly through his skin, and his teeth have all fallen out and been replaced with sharp, animalistic gold teeth he managed to make. Clothing/armor: Leather pants with knee pads and moccasins. He wraps himself in a red blanket over one shoulder for a more formal appearance than being shirtless. Around his neck he wears a necklace needles of various sizes, most of which are broken off of hypodermic needles. (Optional) Pet: A robobrain named Skybot. After finding and 'reprogramming' him, which only consisted of giving the brain a drug dependence, Skybot became Skyman's number one go-to 'guy'. Through their travels Skybot has had most of his cylindrical torso emptied to provide storage space for Skyman's supplies, effectively making him Skyman's moving safe. During a rather psychotic trip Skyman decided that Skybot's little pincers were very bland and replaced them with deathclaw hands, adding a little melee power to his weaponry. His only other armament is a build in mesmatron. Starting Weapon: Spiked knuckles, balisong. Skills/Occupation: Chemist / Chem Maker He is profoundly adept at medicine, stemming from his knowledge of chemistry, biology, and anatomy. He may be a tribal, but he is by no means stupid. In addition to this he is excellent at sneaking, giving him the perfect set up to use his melee and unarmed skills. His use of melee and unarmed comes from both his tribal background and the fact that he is a naturally lousy shot, seeing as how whenever he attempts to aim his hands shake uncontrollably. Personality: His personality is not static, as it is heavily influenced by the many drugs he takes. He is unknowable, for the most part. His usual attitude ranges from the hazy and confused to the completely incoherent and dazed. History/Background: Skyman grew up as a tribal in the backwoods of who-knows-where (he doesn't). His name was given to him by someone, but he can't really remember who, but he does remember why: because he's always high as the sky. The likely reason the he used to be a tribal is that he has a natural fondness and affinity for chems, chemistry, and medicine which likely put him in a strange place with those who live in a primitive society. Either way, he is now a wanderer who does as he pleases.

"I'm not really sure how much help I'm going to be looking for wild plants, so I think I'll just go to the market and see what they have. I'm almost positive I've heard of basil used as some sort of cooking ingredient..." Othos thought back for a moment and tried to recall if this was correct, "Either way we can meet back here at nightfall. Kowolj will probably be fine till then." With that he parted ways with Nawen and made his way to the market, asking around to see if he could find the basil. It didn't take very long, and Othos bought five large basil leaves from the vendor and insisted they keep the change, not wanting to be burdened with 'worthless' change.

Othos followed Nawen down the stairs and allowed a chuckle to slip out of his mouth in response to her question. "Yes, he often does things of this nature. Disappearing, reappearing bloodied, comatose, or sometimes even accompanied by those who would wish us dead. I've come to simply accept his troublesome activities; I can really only work to lessen them rather than stamping them out completely." He waited until they were outside the inn to ask his question, "Where should we begin? I really don't have the slightest clue as to what we're looking for."

Othos sighed, "We best get to it then; what do we need?"

Very nice sheets mac, you set the bar pretty high with your physical descriptions. :P You want to wait for more or start sooner?

Othos smiled at Nawen's comment, "I'm quite sure that he wouldn't throw you out the window." Othos followed Nawen over to Kowolj's side, picking up the nondescript bottle on the floor that had likely held whatever poison he had drank. "Once, about a year ago now, we were sitting in an inn somewhere and we overheard a man talking about 'the nature of alcohol'. He said something along the lines that it was a poison that ruined lives, and blah blah blah... But Kowolj, instead of wanting to drink less, wanted more, and on top of that he made the connection that if alcohol makes you feel kind of good then real poisons must make for a great time. Naturally, I told him that wasn't the case, but it would seem that this idea never really went away. At least, that is my take on what is happening here." Othos took control of the breeze coming in through the window and moved it through Kowolj's black mane, lightly moving his hair around his head.

Othos thanked the dwarf for his time and followed Rhaine out of the smithy. But after exiting he parted ways with her and headed back to the inn to see if the situation with Kowolj was handled. Othos arrived to find what could only be the screaming woman sitting right outside the inn holding her legs in her arms and muttering something about how she'll never get any sleep. The only thing Othos had to ask was, "Which room?" To which she didn't reply. It took a few minutes but Othos eventually found the room with a large wemic occupying the bed and a dead pig hanging out of the window. The bottles and mugs strewn across the floor told the story of what had happened the night prior, and it was a story filled with alcoholic beverages and poisonous cocktails. Othos gave Kowolj a few light slaps on the face to see if he might react. When he didn't Othos was unsure of how serious the situation was, with the seriousness increasing with every failed attempt at waking his friend. Othos walked back down to the bar to see if any of his companions with healing knowledge was available. The first person he found was Nawen so Othos asked the drow if she could help out. "Hey Nawen! Looks like Kowolj had a rough night, I was wondering if you could come check him out? I'm pretty sure he drank some sort of poison, along with the alcohol, and I can't seem to wake him up."

The inside of the smithy was a beautiful place. Othos always had a great admiration smithing, but never had the time to actually learn himself. Meeting this venerable dwarven smith was very much a dream made reality and a perfect opportunity to create his perfect weapon; if he wanted anyone to make this sword it couldn't be anyone less than a master, and this man fit the archetype perfectly. "I need this melted down and reforged into a sword more befitting of my size," Othos set the black greatsword on a nearby table, "What do you know of creating a katana? It is a sword designed in the east, and it is said to be a near flawless design."

Othos heard the same scream that Rhaine did, and for a few moments he became greatly distressed at the thought of what Kowolj may have done to elicit such a sound. After realizing that many of his friends were still in the building his distress subsided, hopefully the situation could sort itself out without him needing to involve himself. "I really hope he didn't kill anyone. I've told him time and time again that it is a great evil to eat a sentient being." Othos held is face in his hand as he said this to Rhaine and let out a exasperated sigh afterward. Back at the inn the woman fled from the room as fast as her legs would take her, with her nature as a commoner clearly evident as she ran through the halls calling forth her fright as a loud (annoying) whine. She made absolutely sure that everyone who was not deaf or dead knew that she, a poor innocent human girl, was in great peril. Still, Kowolj did not move a muscle, his inebriated state rivaling that of the deepest coma.