mythicdawnmaster

Awesome to see you again Brown cow XD Here is my third and final sheet :happy: Admittedly a rather removed character from the actually vicinity of everyone else, her role will be played out in letters and messages delivered by courier for the most part, but she does play an important role in the plot, so I'm rather glad such an awesome character from Lore is taking up some space ;D Name: Morgiah/The Black Queen/Queen Of Worms (amongst other things) Race: Dunmer Gender: Female Age: 360 Appearance: Tall, proud, and darkly beautiful, Morgiah’s is an unforgettable face framed by proud cheekbones and narrow eyebrows, large lashes and a symmetrical nose, she possesses all the beauty her mother Barenziah possessed in her youth, mixed with the strong features of her father. Her hair is raven black, and her eyes a deep purple. Skills: Destruction, Conjuration, Necromancy, Speechcraft, Short-blade. Equipment: Finery would sum up the various articles of clothing that the Black Queen possesses the large majority red, purple, or black. Given her age she is certainly not an old woman by her people’s standards, and often dresses modestly, in a way which accentuates her body and assets without revealing an excessive amount of flesh. Her most notable possession is the Necromancer’s Amulet, she usually conceals the pendant itself beneath her clothing so not to attract suspicion, and no one knows just where she obtained it from. Homeland: Morrowind. Personality: Cold, ruthless, cunning, reserved and intelligent, Morgiah is a venomous game-player and manipulator, preferring to act behind the scenes by pulling little strings here and there to determine which way the fabric unravels, she is not the evil mastermind many make her out to be, simply a woman well versed in how to play the true game of politics, that being the dangerous, razor-coated version most are too scared to partake in. She does have a warm and compassionate side that surfaced as she raised her children, but is fiercly protective, and incredibly unforgiving, the current brunt of her strife is the Aldmeri dominion. Background: A shadowy figure and obscure even to those she holds dear, The Black Queen was born to the legendary royal figures Barenziah and Symmachus, as the younger sister to Hlaalu Helseth, once King of Morrowind. She lived in Wayrest for a number of years as the princess, and through means she never reveals, and most are not even aware about, formed an alliance of some kind with the King of Worms himself, Mannimarco. What transpired between the two has never been revealed, and is perhaps the most obscure secret Morgiah possesses. Obvious enough though, is that somewhere down the line she was enthralled by the dark arts, and through her covert practice in necromancy, was dubbed the Queen of Worms. Her early life however was almost forgotten upon her marriage to Altmer King of Firsthold, Karoodil, to whom she bore two children, the blood-heirs to the throne. It was at this time her people bestowed upon her the silently whispered name of “Black Queen” Not only for the dark complexion that was so uncommon to the golden elves, but due to her ruthless and unappealing nature that the peasantry had discovered. Perhaps the most notable event of her life to date (At least in the eyes of those who had read about her) was the rebellion she quelled with dirty tricks as detailed in the well-known book “The Firsthold Revolt”. But the situation for an alien queen in a land of prejudice was proven to be a life of false hope as the Thalmor seized power and lit the fires that started the Great War. Their leaders had cultivated an army of pure-blooded Altmer that believed it was their right, and their right alone to rule the isles from which they hail. Taking her children she fled the Summerset Isles, renamed Alinor, and made her way to Cyrodiil for refuge in the Imperial City. By all accounts she was as close to Imperial Royalty as was possible, her line came from Barenziah, and the Queen-Consort’s reputation ensured that her daughter would find comfortable living as the war broke out. After the sacking of the Imperial Palace she decided it was high time to swoop in and find a little spot in which to root herself. A member of the Imperial Court she has been present at meetings with the Elder Council for many years, perhaps with an eye on the throne herself, it cannot be certain exactly what game the Black Queen is playing, well, at least not to those uninvolved. Her desire to see the Dominion on their knees lead to her becoming involved in a plot to reform the Blades, acting as the bridge between the Imperial Court and Velanya Therys.

Once I've decided exactly what it is she's been doing for the last who knows how many years ;D She's not the type to grace taverns.

I really relish in actually being able to Rp with Adrynn, Faeryn and Velanya this time around, rather than observing them from afar, It was so interesting reading about them, but it's not quite the same as us meeting in character :biggrin: I do hope they and Iodiria get on, as despite us never having chance to write about it, it's clear enough they worked together in Mournhold :happy: Age just brings wisdom, and those old Redoran Councillors always struck me as rather difficult to fight, limp or not ;D

Thanks Auri,and Darkedge, glad you like this version :biggrin: Very interesting character Macman, I had wondered myself what would have become him. Oh I don't think she will be at all too alien to them, after-all, remove the fancy dye, and she is as much as a grizzled old solider as they ;D

Great sheet Auri! And a great sheet from you too Dark, I forgot to say so before :happy: Edited Iodiria a little so she isn't so much of a relic of the past- I felt it would be better if she eventually accepted the Reclamations.

"A dracolich?" Seraphine's eyes widened as she heard mention of the vile beasts. "It happens that the... quarry I am sworn to destroy turned to the dark paths in his youth, and like his brother he must be put to rest. While necromancy itself is not the greatest of crimes in the eyes of my god, unrighteousness is, and the deed of desecrating the remains of a fallen being for ones own amusement is by no means righteous. I am not kept updated as to the power the hunted now possesses in the dark arts, but I have found many a trace of him at desecrated crypts. It would be within my interest to travel to such a place where necromancy is in abundance, in the off chance he is there. if you would accept me, fair Doomguide, I would lend my assistance to your own battle in the hopes of finishing mine."

A few of you may also remember my old saint, who never got a chance to meet her fellows in SODS :happy: : Name: Iodiria Race: Dunmer Gender: Female Age: 466 Appearance: Iodiria is rather lithe and delicate, with the height of an average dunmer woman, she possesses a head of red hair, varying shades streak throughout and white blonde highlights accent it. Her most notable features are her bright red eyes, flecked with a large amount of gold the latter colour has gradually faded. Her skin is a light and washed-out gold, nothing to rival its former golden splendour at the time it was initially dyed; she has extensive tattoo work all over her body, however only a few retain the metallic golden coat they used to possess, most having faded to a much darker metallic shade of grey. Skills: Long blade, Destruction, Restoration, Equipment: Iodiria’s primary armour consists of the ancient Indoril plate she wore as the commander of Necrom’s forces, a cuirass of fine gold, engraved with intricate Indoril patterns, and deep scores from blades and other weapons alike, it is feminine and protective, featuring a protective collar that hugs the neck, made from black leather. On her shoulders she wears an Indoril pauldron and a half, the latter having been severed in recent years. Bellow this her legs are protected by guards that run along the inner length, her outer leg and it’s tattoo’s on display. Around her waist an ornate cincture from her time as saint, attatched to which is a long train of white-gold silk. On her feet a pair of golden-heeled sabatons. Her only weapon is her most prized possession: The golden scimitar mages bane, named so for it’s speciality at turning each of the destructive arts into a single strike. Homeland: Necrom, Morrowind Mainland. Personality: Iodiria was once an incredibly proud and pious individual, but her demeanor in recent times has turned to one of distrustful caution and fiery temper. She is a mournful soul who laments the death of all she has lost, and carries heavy burdens in her heart, she has seen much on the field of both battle and in the chambers of the clergy hall. Despite the difficulties she has faced, Iodiria still maintains her kind and mothering nature towards those around her. Background: Born Sedura Indoril, daughter of wealthy nobility in the grave-city of Necrom, the Tribunal’s teachings were fed to her from the moment she could walk. This indoctrination and incredibly devout following lead to her enrolling in both the order of the mournful (Necrom’s elite Ordinators) and the local clergy at the high temple. This strict upbringing meant that spare time was a luxury that never happened, and simple pleasures and enjoyments were unheard of. By day she honed her body to the point of breaking into a lethal weapon, and by night her mind into a librarium of holy knowledge. Day, night, her thoughts were of the Tribunal and her faith, and as each passed her skills too increased. Promotion after tiny promotion, in what is recalled as a rather minor and insignificant portion of her life, it was not until she neared a century of age that the name Sedura carried weight in Necrom, and considerable weight it had been. She was by all accounts the sole defender and holy mentor of the Tribunal forces stationed in the city, and her role encompassed both the ever-watchful duties of the cities blessed commander, and the monotonous preaching of the high temple’s matriarchal position. Both of these acts she balanced out in equal measure, and after countless battles and public gatherings, festivals and charity, she was officially recognized by the Lord Vivec for her deeds, and Sainted. Known as Saint Iodiria the Mournful Soul at the time of the coming of the Nerevarine, it was not until the prophecies were complete did she set foot on Vvardenfell. Almalexia’s death had both left a gaping hole in the hearts of the Dunmer people, and an empty chamber in mournholds high chapel, a spot that was filled, however by a mortal, with the new saint herself. After an intense ritual of magical dyes and eye-altering elixirs she stepped forth an omnipotent figure reminiscent of a young Almalexia, and the chambers of Mournhold did she take for her own. Through her time on her throne in the city of magic she did much for the people to ease their strain, and equally as much to tighten the strain upon Helseth’s governance, often going to drastic measure to see the corrupt king undermined. It was in this city she spent her last moments as a Saint, assisting a group of heroes whom told of the Neravarine’s corruption, and the presence of a Mythic Dawn cult beneath the holy cities new foundations. It followed shortly after with the true demise of the Tribunal in the heart of the people, and the eruption of red mountain seemed to further this, wiping the land clean. After years of hiding from the flowing Lava, Iodiria emerged once again to rally the people, hoping to rebuild under the name of the Tribunal. However this was all shattered when the temple of the Reclamations was set up, seeing the truth amidst the lies. It took Iodiria many years to truly realize and accept the truth that her faith was no longer valid, and her gods were nothing more than glorified thieves deeds as good as they may have performed. And so she willingly gave up her faith to the three and was welcomed into the new order, her initial goal was to help settlers to make themselves comfortable with the confides of Solstheim, however in recent years she has vanished from the island, rumoured to be dead, the truth is that her feet now take her to Skyrim, for she has heard of the plight her people face in it's borders.

Interesting! Very, very, very interesting actually, I look forward to your new sheets Auri, and your's Darkedge, it's so nice to see you Rping again :biggrin:

I really like this sheet dear, her history seems that little more polished this time- Awesome sheet! :happy:

Xallistine bowed upon his introduction, the warmest possible form of greeting he could offer a surface dweller without being able to smile. Of course, he could have invaded their minds to leave messages of euphoric welcome, but that wouldn't go down to well with people being rather protective of their cranial contents. "A twist of fate? perhaps... perhaps it was the gods themselves that set me upon your path, but alas, my hunt must not lead me astray, however splendid your expedition sounds, and to have company after many a century alone would be favourable. Returning to my task, I was told by my last... informant, that those I seek travelled this way- In which case sir Whitefang, you would most likely have caught a glimpse, or, at least heard something? I fear that I have been lead astray." Seraphine was as calm and focused as ever as she asked Conall, although something told her she had just killed a lead to an unfruitful end. ---- Ravenna continued to watch in sadistic amusement as Sefris toyed with the lizard-man, singing off his tail as she hovered above him really got the creature riled, and as it threw the severed arm of a prisoner at the Fey'ri, the infernal queen could help not but laugh loudly, walking elegantly to stand a safer distance away near Hakkon. "She is a rather sadistic little creature, wouldn't you agree?"

Me too :ohdear:

Ameline smiled slightly before replying "Too many for even I to put a number to... yet too little for me to safely guarantee us passage. London is under the grip of the Camarilla yes... but only the most respectable, the highest profile Vampires of this city have holdings we can enter, the rest are independent, they are new, fresh, unknowns. And as more of this city falls to ruin, fall to corruption and filth... so do those in it." She smiled again however after her rather grim rendition of London's state. "But why would I take you anywhere but the best of this city hmm? London is a paradise of the night my friend, and this whole country, this England... It is such a haven for us, although I know you can relate when I say no place is like your homeland." Ameline leant forwards and snapped her finger to the driver "Turn there" He complied instantly, and once they had finally exited the motorway, the road at last lead them into London itself. The city was huge, in all ways, in all proportions, in every little meaning of the word. From it's wealth to it's houses, to it's monuments and it's symbols, to it's diversity to it's divide, London was a place of rich and poor in clear setting. When you looked out of the window, when you walked a street, it was always clear what kind of place you were in, the poorer areas were downtrodden and dirty, once white paint grey and fading, the once freshly tarmacked ground crumbling and ruinous, the people who lived in this setting oppressed and unhappy, in the majority that is. However only the slightest glimpse of this was given in the journey Ameline was taking Bjorn upon, she wanted not to depress him, not to show him the filth and corruption he had been warned about on his journey, but to show him the very things that gave the British capital it's soul. She wanted him to see it all from up high... and where better to perform such a feat than suspended above the city atop the vast tower of The Shard? The Bentley made quick work of old Southwark's ancient streets, passing the ancient Southwark Cathedral, of which Ameline pointed out with a remark, their journey ended as the car pulled into the grounds of Europe's largest building, and stopped gently outside it's doors. The Chauffeur opened up the door for Ameline, who crawled out and let the cold air hit her again. Ah how such cool breezes reminded her of home. She turned to Bjorn with a smile. "This my dear friend, is what the British call The Shard... fantastic isn't it? The largest structure in all of the European union... and we are headed right for the top, oh the view is magnificent, I can show you everything from up there." She grinned and took his hand to lead him into the new building.

"Now? now we find the Thalmor heretics and end each and every one of their lives without mercy or regret, without a second thought and without looking back, we cut the head from their bodies and leave them where they lie, for murderers and pillagers such as they deserve no place in the heavens. Of course, that all follows us finding them... which could take some kind." Sienna spoke with amusement as she gazed around the vast expanse of Eastmarch, tracking the elves would mean a long and arduous search, to say the least. "They cannot be more than a day ahead of us, two perhaps... These towers, these Vaultheim towers, by chance we may see our quarry from their heights?"

"I regret my powers do not delve into the realms of bringing back the life taken by the forces of evil... Or I would grant such murdered priestess life once again. My earnest condolences, Conall Whitefang, I pray you have found some small measure of peace in destroying your attackers, revenge, while crude, does solve many a problem." Seraphine bowed her head to the falled priestess and wished her a safe travel to the next life. As the air genasi greeted her Seraphine bowed her head. "It is an honour to meet one such as you in these woods, La'Niabelleta Anemone Siale, It seems I have been blessed in meeting not one, but two pure souls in this tragedy." When the large lion-headed creature came bounding through the brush towards them, Seraphine immediately readied her magical abilities and set her aim upon the beast. However as he voiced a greeting the Deva lowered her hands and dispersed the swirling celestial magics that had gathered around her palms. Following him was the mis-matched company of the Lady Doomguide, all following their obvious leader cautiously into whatever danger may have been ahead- the howls certainly were disheartening to say the least, but it was a large relief that the vile creatures who has produced them lay in their own blood. Seraphine nodded in greeting to Rhaine once more "I have had the pleasure of your company twice today, Lady Alcinea, the pleasure is mine entirely to address you twice under one moon, it seems the drums of battle insisted upon playing another beat for me today, and for which I am grateful, for I was able to grant intervention in such a horrific event as this." She gestured to the bloody corpses of both beast and priestess alike. ---- Xallistine dismounted his steed and walked to stand next to Rhaine as she addressed the newcomers, both the werewolf and the genasi seemed to extrude a glowing aura of purity about them, the white haired man in particular, through those brilliantly bright sapphires that rested within his eye-sockets. The colouration of the surface dwellers eyes was rather diverse, as the underdark only really catered to one predominant colour: The red of the Drow. "What an interesting entourage... a good werebeast and a female genasi... not to mention our celestial Seraphine." ---- Ravenna sighed reluctantly as the lord Hakkon lead the two bedazzling women through the tunnels of his great complex, winding tunnel and narrow corridor infinitum seemed to lead into yet another, until they arrived into the rather disgusting bowels of the prison block... which seemed to be decorated with said organ in rather unexpected patches on the grotesque floor. Ravenna's disgust turned to utter amusement as the Orc overlord let loose a rather delightful little toy, the hulking lizard-man came menacingly at Sefris on all fours, rushing towards the Fey'ri with a maddening look in it's eye... oh she would enjoy watching how her companion dealt with this particular problem, and deal with it she would. Sefris may not have been the most dependable of playthings for sticking to the rules of the game, but she could always be counted on to find new and innovative ways to brutally murder her opponents.

Ameline filled Bjorn's glass a quarter of the way when he mentioned he only wished for a little, smiling as she handed it to him her own glass was filled three quarters, but she too wished to feed on something a little more... alive. Putting the bottle back into the small champagne refrigerator that sat between the two rear seats. At the mention of her heels Ameline held up her leg to show them off a little "Of course I still love my impossible heels, what's not to like? Apart from the risk of a broken neck..." She joked, lowering her foot again and settling back into the leather seat, taking a large sip from her glass with a small sigh. "What has happened? Well... so much happens in London my dear it's hard to take it all in... But we have been plagued by a number of... disappearances, but I don't to spoil the mood of your trip with such matters. Instead, why don't I show you around a little? I can explain the more heartening news as we go along."

Ameline perched herself gracefully upon the bonnet of the onyx-black Bentley and flicked her her hair, rolling her eyes at the men whom ogled at her, clearly they were here to pick up the other Swedish Kindred, but their eyes had wandered far from the plane it seemed, and onto the features of the Russian Toreador who so cruelly ignored them. She didn't imagine Bjorn would find it at all too difficult to spot her amidst the men in black suits, as if her brightly coloured coat was not enough to scream 'I'm here, look at me!' The glossy red head of hair so ritually dyed was another tell-tale sign. Spotting the young blonde Kindred dismounting the ramp of the silent jet, Ameline grinned and pushed herself from her perch like a feline, braking into something of a tottering run considering her heels (she was extremely well versed in how to do anything in heels) dashing for Bjorn with open arms. When she reached him she clasped her long arms around his back and embraced him warmly, moving one down to squeeze his perky bottom. "My my Bjorn, you still have your perfect rump? It is so good to finally see you again! Come, come I have 'wine' awaiting us in the car, come!" Ameline's smile was still present as she grabbed Bjorn's forearm and marched her way back to the expensive vehicle, clicking her fingers to have Bjorn's luggage taken care of. The chauffeur opened the door for them both and Ameline crawled in first, cracking open the bottle of red liquor and procuring a pair of fine crystal glasses, both marked with a black rose.

Xallistine remained silent as the events unfolded before him, a celestial hunting a lone man who had committed petty crimes, Othos's new found faith, and now the distant snarl of some beasts battling it out in the woods... Well, his life was most definitely not lacking in excitement, and he kept himself quiet as his thoughts rattled about carelessly in his over-active mind. --- Ravenna smirked "Why of course dear Hakkon... Devils to accompany your army? I'm sure my lord could... arrange for it to be so, should I make a convincing argument it will give him something of favour. Worry not, It shall be done... But my companion here grows restless, she is a killer you see, and not quite as... patient as I am, that and her methods are quite a few tones more messy than my own. Tell me, do you have any particularly dangerous prisoners? I'm sure Sefris wouldn't mind... looking after them for you?" --- Seraphine bowed her head to the great wolf as he uttered his thanks in a bestial tone, it was rather strange being spoken to by one of his kind, they certainly weren't renowned for being creatures of docility. As Conall returned a shining paladin with handsome features and the same, azure eyes, Seraphine's mouth upturned in the slightest degree. "There is no need to thank me, noble wolf, It is my bound duty to help those whom require assistance. From the vile aura that emanates from the recently deceased, and the blood that sits behind this humble shrine, I can only assume that these beasts were attempting to desecrate the sanctity of this holy gathering... A crime that is met, and has been fulfilled, with death. I am Seraphine of the Judicial order of Tyr, it is a pleasure to make such an acquaintance amidst the flames of battle."

Good Rule, I agree :happy:

Posted. Not huge but it gets the point across :happy: Thanks, I'm glad you like her :happy:

"Another one?" Came the velveteen voice of Ameline, reclined in the back seat of a sleek black Bentley Flying Spur (2014 of course), her legs crossed tightly and one heavily manicured hand gripping onto the above-door support handle. She was on her way to the airport to meet Bjorn, a friend she had met on her last trip to Sweden some three years back. She distinctly remembered the rather perfect-looking blonde who stuck out as a newborn amongst Kindred society in Stockholm... she had to give it to the boy however, he knew how to wrap people around his little finger, even in the early days of his Vampirism, But knowing his sire, it wasn't too hard to believe. "Yeah, found his apartment in a right state, and he hasn't been home in at least three weeks." Replied the voice of an informant, stood on the scene of the crime. Around him was a cluttered apartment room with upturned tables and chairs, smashed doors and broken walls, like whomever had been taken had put up one hell of a fight. Ameline sighed deeply and leant her forehead into the palm of her hand. Leaning back upright she responded finally. "Tidy it up and mark yet another disappearance on the list... I'll have to bring this up in the meeting once we arrive... I'd quite like to get to the bottom of all this, it's costing me eyes and ears by the minute." Her voice heavily accented as she deepened her tone with anger. "I know the feeling A, but we all know who's the main suspect here." "That we do Bronsky... with any luck the Prince and the other clans will have a little more for us, I've dug up what I can, but representatives from around Europe will be flying in with their own stories to tell." "But the focus of the meeting isn't these recent... events, Ameline, it's the same as it is every year." "Not this year Bronsky, I'll make it so. Look, I've got to go, but I should see you there .do svidaniya" There was a resolute calm in her voice at that point, she meant every word of bringing up these mysteries at the gala, whether it was wanted or not. "Do svidaniya." With that Bronsky ended the call and got to work. he had one hell of a mess to clean up before the landlords busted down the door to find out where their occupant had gone. After about ten minutes, Ameline got a bleep on her mobile phone, a crimson-cased I-Phone 5, reading 'We're getting close. Can't wait to see you!' Ameline smiled and replied back quickly 'I can see the plane already hon. Minutes now!' Getting out of the car as it came to a halt on the side of the runway, Ameline's huge fur coat blew about in the wind. She was dressed like a Gareth Pugh girl with a Cavali coat, the fur article layered in differing colours, all bright and eye catching, beneath this her entire body was cased in a crocodile and python skin catsuit, tight as can be, and on her feet a pair of bright red ankle boots, seven inches of quality custom Louboutin. She gazed at the sleek black vehicle as it slowly began to decrease it's altitude, nose turning up as it came into land. It was funny watching all these modern inventions at work, Ameline was born in the early 1700... but she'd gotten used to things fairly quickly, she was nothing if not adaptable.

Awesome! I'll get right to a post! :woot: Oh, and in other news I decided to change Ameline's look, blonde is just too... widespread to fit an ecentric Toreador like her, so I figured this would do for her new look. (Image isn't mine, it belongs to whmurai on DA) I just edited the original a bit to create this: http://i1295.photobucket.com/albums/b630/mythicdawnmaster/Ameline_zpsd0311ea3-1_zpsee84e88e.jpg