Macman253

I think I got a good story... gimme a minute to redo, hopefully it will be enough.

Lure Of Flames is a path in Thaumaturgy, similar to Evocation. It specializes in the use of vitae to produce fire.. for lighting candles or blowing up cars. As to the rest it is possible to leave your clan, it just means you no longer socialize with them or take orders from them. Basically he went renegade, he didn't approve of the House becoming Kindred but he was forced to nonetheless, which is why he left. I stuck the bounty thing in there to add some story since I am having a hard time writing a convincing story for the character. i'll rewrite the story...once I can find out what I am going to change it to... Also, wanted to add that he was in House Tremere before it became a Kindred Clan. He wasn't one of those that performed the ritual because he staunchly disapproved of it, at the time he was only 100 years old so he wasn't more then a Neophyte at the time. Barely out of his apprentice shoes and on his way to being a full blown Warlock. That was when the Turning happened and he was embraced.. then he left. So his actual age is 700. Mind you when I wrote this character sheet I was tired... had been working for 12 hours doing fetch and carry for my client so my brain was kinda inactive.

Wind smiled and nodded as he walked with Ruth. "Well... then we should take my ship, it has a crew and it is waiting right now." He said with a slight smirk, a ship that may have a crew isn't reliable enough and his was prepped and ready to go that moment. Ven stood rather close to Wind, his large stature overshadowing the small elf, his sword along was taller then Wind. "Captain... we are still missing half our crew. We will not be ready to go underway until morning." Said Ven, Wind rubbed his chin in thought and nodded. "Fair enough... the good lady will have to be our guests until then." He said then turned to Ruth, "Only if you want to?" He asked calmly, a slight smirk on his lips.

(talos most likely... he is a Nord)

GENERAL INFORMATION: Name: Nathaniel Wright Gender: Male Race: Caucasian True Age: 120 Apparent Age: 22 Religion: The Hunt Clan: Gangrel Bloodline: Country Gangrel Covenant: Covenant Faction: Independent Clan/Bloodline/Covenant Disciplines: Protean, Animalism, Celerity, Fortitude Path: (If applicable) Haven: APPEARANCE: Height: 6' 2 Weight: 220 Hair: Dark Brown (Now White) Eyes: Yellow Skin: Pale Handedness: Ambidextrous Scars/Tattoos: Numerous from his abusive father and many more from the various Gang fights in his mortal life. General physical description: Voice: Rough and low, comparable to a wolf growling. Clothing/armor: Dark leather jacket with a white wolf fur trim. Torn jeans and no boots PERSONALITY: General Personality Traits: Tough, strong willed and mostly solitary. Nathaniel is known for his strong sense of honor and his love for the hunt. He places the lives of his pack-mates before himself. Fears: Cages Attitudes towards friends/strangers: Friends he will die for... Strangers he avoids. Opinion of the world: "You are Friend... Or Prey? So What are you?" HISTORY: Past: Nathaniel was born in Yorkshire, his early life was a wild one. His mother died in child birth, his father a skilled woodsmen. His father often drank heavily and beat him relentlessly but during the early winter and spring they would spend months in the forest hunting game together. It was here that Nathaniel was at home, the hunt came natural to him. When Nathaniel was just nineteen his father passed, leaving the small farm to him. For three years he lived on the land, hunting game for food and selling the skins to tradesman. He gained a local reputation for his skill in tracking, often employed by the local village to track wanted criminals that escaped into the vast forests. It was these opportunities to hunt men that he enjoyed the most, one evening he was tasked to hunt a man that murdered a woman in the village. Setting out alone he pursued the criminal across miles of dense forest. He caught the man in a grove, trained his rifle on him and fired. The bullet struck him in the head but the man just smiled and attacked, the vampire he was pursuing was Antony Marks, a Gangrel. Marks embraced him and left him, his first night Nathaniel hunted several deer and a rich nobleman that had gotten lost on the road, butchering him and the three guards he was with. Before sunset he returned to his farm, his bloodlust sated. The next evening the villagers struck, they burned down his farm but Nathaniel was already gone, he had left into the wild with only his fathers leather jacket and his mothers gold bracelet. The next year he encountered Marks again, it was then that he learned the ways of the Gangrel and was accepted into a small but growing pack. Most were sired by Marks himself, the rest were adopted as stray Childes. A hundred years passed, Marks had been killed and the leadership of the pack fell to Nathaniel. He lead them wisely and they prospered, they had moved far to the north in Scotland and found the verdant hills ripe with game, they mostly lived green to avoid any mortal aggression, the strain of leadership began to grow on him. Mortal kind expanded into the forests that sheltered him, hikers and hunters became more frequent and his interactions with mortals began to grow. His pack grew in size aswell, the First Winter tradition still used by his clan his packs ranks swelled with first year Gangrel, growing to well over twenty, with the size of his pack growing and mortals looking deeper into the deaths of their own food became scarce and the pack nearly descended into chaos, so they began to feed on Deer and other animals, the humans did not call into question a deer with it's throat and innards ripped out. The crisis within the pack over they continued on in peace, but it did not last. One night, Nathaniel went out for a run and returned to find his pack dead, killed by Hunters that had been pursuing them for sometime. He tracked the hunters across England to London. Embrace: He was embraced when he was inducted into the pack by Antony Marks Birthplace: Yorkshire, England Family/Relationships: None Living/Dead Family Members: Mother (Deceased) Father (Deceased) Friends: Enemies: Current Nationality: English Current Place of Residence: An abandoned subway station. OTHER INFORMATION: Merits and Flaws: Backgrounds: Magic Items:

Svarn stood and nodded, his axe in hand. "For a chance to hunt the Forsworn... I will follow you." He said calmly. The burly Nord approached and offered his hand to the altmer woman. "If you'll have my axe?" He asked, Fenrir barked and wagged his tail happily, his long pink tongue hanging out of his mouth. Felix stood, his arm wrapped in a piece of cloth that held it in place. "I would go with you but with my arm the way it is... I cannot fight, I think I will return to Whiterun." He said with a slight smile, his adventure was done and he was ready to board up in the Bannered Mare for a few months.

I have been building a sort of buddy relationship between Svarn and Felix. Right now I assume they are camped around his campfire... to avoid confusion.

Wind smiled and looked to Ven. "Yeah... he is my first mate." He says to her before going over to Lianna's corpse, he closes the eyes on the head and mutters something in elvish as a final farewell. Wind then looked up to Ruth and smiled, "Read the note, where is our next stop?" He asked as he stood, he looked to Ven and tapped his cheek under his eye, Ven nodded and walked across the room towards the large doors and closed them. after checking to see if anyone was listening, he nodded to Wind to confirm that no one was listening in. The burly Qunari slid his scimitar into the leather bag across his bag and smiled. "All clear Captain." He said as he walked over to them.

Svarn took the freshly cooked hare from the spit and flayed off a hunk of meat with his knife. He seemed resilient despite the harrowing encounter deep within the tomb. Felix lay snoring beside him, a wine bottle loosely hanging from his fingers. Fenrir barked as he approached him and Sienna. The half-wolf sat next to him and Svarn cut off a chunk of meat for the house and tossed it to him. "You did well... you stood your ground. Most would not, not against that... horror." He said between bites of hare. "And because you stood, we got out alive and victorious." Svarn said as he looked into her eyes and then smiled.

I am still here, we can still do this. Mythic may be out I am not sure but I know we four are still here... I vote we keep it going.

I have a question... is my posts blocked or something because it seems to me they are largely ignored. I dunno what it is but it seems to me I get skipped or forgotten a lot.

So, do you like those cheesy 50's alien invasion movies or do you prefer Independence Day? Like Fallout and wish you saw more of the Alien's in Mothership Zeta? Well congratulations, Fallout: Invasion is the RP for you. For a long while I have thought about making an Alien invasion mod for Fallout but I am not really that good at modding, but the story is sound enough to bring to the RP forums, now I don't expect a lot of attention on this but I figured I would offer anyway. Here is the setting, 2278, two years after the fall of the Enclave and the Liberation of the Capital Wasteland. Lyon's Pride Chapter and the Outcasts still war and the Raiders roam the wilds of the Capital Wasteland while Super Mutants and Enclave Exiles raid and pillage at will. But that is not the real threat, three months ago a large Alien space-craft appeared above The Citadel and small alien creatures attacked, they drove the Brotherhood out of their home and into the wasteland. They found Megaton, the natural fortress like city was a boon to their plight and Mayor Lucas allowed them in so long as they protected the city from the Alien threat, using Moriarty's as a recruitment center they began recruiting wastelander's of every profession. Galaxy News Radio's DJ Three-Dog has taken up with them, broadcasting this message across the wastes and feeding news to the people. "This is Elder Lyons of the Brotherhood Chapter Lyon's Pride. To all willing and able wastelanders, report to Megaton for enlistment into the Resistance. We must liberate ourselves from this alien threat." Everything east of the Potomac is owned by the Aliens and everyday they move further into the Free Wasteland. Will you join the cause? Will you fight to free humanity or will you stand back and watch it be torn apart by an alien menace... Character Sheet: Name: Age: Description: Armor: (feel free to use mod armors, just provide picture and link) Weapon(s): (same as armor) Personality: Background: This RP is meant to be a Guerilla warfare and character-driven RP. So party conflict is somewhat encouraged but within reason. The rules are as follows. No Godmodding... example: Joe Average shoots thirty aliens with his 9mm. Feel free to pursue your own stories, I am a sucker for good stories so I recommend you read others posts before posting just to keep from having conflict. Try to avoid Player-Killing, I understand if the Enclave Exile and the Brotherhood guy don't get along but don't start blasting, the Aliens are meant to be a threat to all, so even foes must band together to defeat it. You can still not like each other but if your going to compare which is better, Laser or Plasma? Don't do it on each other. Try to allow others to post, I understand you sometimes get on a roll with someone and you want to continue but wait for others to post, no one likes to be left way behind. Not everyone can make it on regularly. Last but not least, Have Fun. Remember, this is supposed to be fun and wacky. When you blow an alien away with your favorite Plasma Rifle try and describe what his skeleton would look like or have your character react to having bits of alien on him but keep it within reason, try to be... realistically wacky.

Svarn and Felix followed, Felix's arm bled profusely and his skin was going pale. Svarn held him over his arm and called out to his companions. "He needs healing... I will take him back to the surface, tend to him there." He said as he pulled Felix over his shoulders like a dead deer and began to run back along the path they came, moving around the dead Thalmor and Draugr. It took him a few minutes but it wasn't long till they got to the surface. Svarn stopped outside the Labryinthian and set Felix down, "I am going to start us a fire, keep an eye out." Felix nodded, he was glad to be on the earth again but he was too tired to throw a witty remark at the Nord. And with that Svarn vanished into the nearby foothills for a few minutes, he returned with a large bundled load of firewood that looked heavy enough for a Troll to carry. Felix smiled, Svarn was indeed as strong as a troll. He threw the wood down on the ground and began building a fire by striking a piece of flint on the head of his axe, the sparks soon turned to flames and Felix felt the wash of warm cover him, Svarn opened his pack and tossed Felix a bottle of Alto Wine, which the Imperial deftly caught. He popped the cork with his teeth, raised the mug to the Nord and drank deeply. Svarn removed the bone needle and string he used to stitch wounds and sat down next to him. He took the Wine, drank some of it and poured some more on the string and needle. Felix quickly snatched the wine back and chuckled. "Well... aren't you the caring wolf-mother." He said as Svarn cleaned the wound with a rag soaked in wine, the pain filled him but soon vanished after he took a few extra drinks. Svarn then began to stitch the wound, Felix bit his lip and groaned, he knew that too much noise could give away their position. After a long while, the wounds were stitched tightly and Felix lay drunk beside the fire with an empty bottle of WIne.

Tordin pushed the door to the Inn open and walked inside. He found a packed room of armed adventurers and an unknown man. He looked around the room and met eyes with each of them, he spun his hammer around in his hand and locked on the stranger as he talked of Alduin. Thunder cracked in the sky again and Tordin strode across the room to the firepit. "Why does your call summon me?" He asked the strange man, his memories of Mundus were faint but he remembered Riverwood well enough, but the voices that compelled him to return silenced the moment he strode into the Inn. Tordin was tall, even for a Nord. His armor was old but hard, not made of iron or steel yet looked like it was in perfect condition despite it's old craftsmanship. His long blonde hair was tied back and his hammer had blue glowing runes with Dragon-Script along it and a name aswell, "Sahrot Strun Tu."

A thunder racked the nights sky, a lightning bolt struck the earth. Tordin had arrived on Mundus. A tall broad shouldered Nordic man wearing a heavy chestplate and wielding a large hammer sat in the road on one knee. He stood and slid his hammer into his belt and tied back his long gold hair with a leather strap. He looked around and recognized the hamlet, "Riverwood... " He said before walking towards the Sleeping Giant.

Username: Macman253 Name: Tordin 'The Thunderer' Gender: Male Race: Nord Age: 2024 years old Personality: Strong, hates dragons and dragon cultists. Strengths: Close combat, Storm spells and Words of Power Weaknesses: Fears deep water, he's no longer a spirit of Sovngarde so anything else a normal Mortal would be weak to. Appearance: Wears a thick Sovngarde steel breastplate, leather pants with bracers and shin guards and a red cloak draped over his left arm. History: Born during the height of the Dragon War he lived as a simple blacksmith, his parents had fallen to a dragon attack years before. His uncle the resident drunk had taught him a great deal of the trade but drank away all their profit, one night he got an order from a shrouded woman for a hammer made of strange steel. He labored for three days and when he had finished a hammer greater then any of the age rested on his anvil. Dinokviing, a mighty dragon attacked the small hamlet, nearly burning it down. Tordin picked up the hammer he had forged and used it to strike down Dinokviing. As he did a mighty thunderbolt struck the hammer and sent the great serpent reeling. The dragon retaliated, clamping his jaws around Tordin... using his foul necromancy to drain the life from him. Tordrin using the last ounce of his life-force channeled it into a mighty thuum that brought a Thunderbolt down on the serpent and killed it... the foul spirit of the dragon fled into the aetherium and Tordin perished, he arose with Kyne's Blessing and the Heart Of Thunder as... The Thunderer. Years later, a renowned dragon-hunter the Thunderer was ambushed by Alduin and his lieutenants. Tordin battled with the five beasts, he slew all of them including Alduin but he too was mortally wounded. Alduin perished, hailing an end to the Dragon Wars and the freedom of Mortals, Tordin died shortly afterwards and rose to the halls of Sovngarde. Faction: Other:

Elves were around but Snow Elves were present and the Dwemer still existed, a number of things. On the general whole not much has changed...

Thing is, skyrim is the oldest province in Tamriel... most of Skryim hasn't changed. Solitude... Winterhold and Whiterun were all there during the Dragon War. Riften and Markarth aswell, the major holds were all present during that period. Only thing that was different was that during that period the Empire didn't exist since Talos hadn't yet created it.

I have an idea, instead of breaking the lore let's go with it. Set it during the Dragon War. During that period mortals were ruled over by the dragons, Alduin was the tyrant and the Dragon Cult's reigned surpreme. There weren't Draugr because Alduin hadn't yet been defeated and the Dragon Cult's weren't destroyed and their members cursed to become Draugr. That way it doesn't deter people who hate to break lore and it is still within the boundaries of the RP you want.

The Dragon War was centuries before the return of Alduin, he was killed but his soul was not devoured and it took him hundred of years to reconstitute himself so he could return.

Interesting... I have an idea for this story that I think would be awesome. Based off a character I have been writing for a friend on the nexus... the same guy responsible for the Heart Of Thunder mod. Here is the lowdown. Once a simple Blacksmith in skyrim, a young man that had been orphaned by a dragon attack. He was taken in by his drunk of an uncle who taught him how to work a forge, his uncle drank most of the little gold they made and left the young Tordin to work the forge. He began to think his life was going nowhere but one rainy day he got a special order from a woman in a shroud to forge a hammer from a rock of strange earth. She offered him many times the normal price if he would forge it in three days. Tordin hurriedly accepted the offer and spent the next three days forging what the Dragons would one day call Sahrot Strun Tu, the Mighty Storm Hammer. On the third day he stood by his forge with the finished hammer and waited, it was then that Dinokviing attacked. The dragon began to raise the small hamlet to the ground, it was then that Tordin picked up the hammer and charged the dragon. He struck the hammer across the dragon's nose and as he did a thunderbolt struck sending the dragon reeling. The attack injured the dragon but not enough to deter him, the dragon came at him with jaws agape and ready to consume the young blacksmith it was then that the world stopped and the woman that had ordered the hammer came to him, she revealed herself to be Kynareth. It was then that she gifted him with the Heart Of Thunder. Dragons Blood began to course through his veins and with a mighty Thu'um he vanquished Dinokviing, before the Dragon's Soul could be consumed the spirit of the dragon fled and forever cursed Tordin. Tordin became known to the Blades as the Thunderer, he was crucial in the Dragon War, eventually falling to Alduin and five of his strongest Lieutenants. In the battle, Tordin killed four of the lieutenants and mortally wounded Alduin, as Tordin and Alduin lay in the pile of dragon corpses at the top of Ancient's Ascent they conversed, Alduin fell first, followed shortly by Tordin. Tordin was called to Sovngarde and the Dragon War was officially over... Mundus prospered and the heroes of the Dragon War became legends but the Thunderer was all but forgotten.

I have been thinking about dropping Nightshade... just having a hard time continuing with him.

Wind smiled and wiped the blood from his Crow-Blades off on his tunic, Ven stands with the tip of the large scimitar in the dirt with both his large hands resting on the pommel. Ven smiles and nods to Wind, Wind hated bounty hunters, lowest of the low for professions. To him they were one step above Slavers since they often sold their quarry to slavers. Wind tightened the leather strap that held his long light hair back and fixed the Huntress with his blue and green eyes. "It is sad that I have to kill you senorita... I should rather prefer to take you out for a dinner under the moonlight." He said with a charming smile as he circled her, his steps slow and meaningful. He looked like a shark swimming circles around a wounded seal, preparing for it's strike. Wind sighed and flipped his twin Crow-Blades around in his hand and crossed them across his arms, the etchings across them revealed the name of each weapon, the right blade with an ivory hilt was Isabela, the left hand blade with the ebony hilt was Luvana. The names of each were etched into the hardened steel of the blades with a rose pattern around it. Wind smiled and looked to Ven, Ven began to stamp his foot and tap on the flat of his sword as he chanted something in Qunari, the beat began to reverberate through the Warehouse and filled the room with a deep and looming sense of dread. Wind smiled and leapt at the Bounty Hunter, his knives flashing in a criss-cross pattern for the Huntresses stomach.

Felix and Svarn stood amidst a growling pile of Draugr and Skeletons, Felix parried and countered with a pair of black armored Draugr while Svarn cleaved through three skeletons. The pair sweated heavily and exhaustion began to envelope them, but as their stamina began to dwindle the numbers of foes also fell. "Get down!" Felix yelled, Svarn dropped to a knee as Felix extended his staff to it's full length and spun it and himself as hard as he can, the hard metal staff caving in the skulls of two Draugr and turning three skeletons heads into white powder. Svarn stood and smashed the pommel of his axe into the face of a Draugr, "Nice work!" Svarn said before headbutting another Draugr and caving in it's face. Felix flung a dagger into the eye-slit of one of the armored Draugr's helmet, the Draugr went stiff and fell back limply. The second armored Draugr took the opportunity and drove his sword deep into Felix's right shoulder, Felix let out a howl of pain and dropped to his knee. Svarn turned to see Felix down and the armored Draugr picking up a discarded sword and raising it high, preparing to finish off the wounded Imperial. Svarn dropped his axe and quickly drew his recurve bow and knocked a pair of arrows, he drew back the string and let out a whistle. The Draugr looked to him and Svarn loosed both arrows, one imbedding in the dead heart of the Draugr the second penetrated the thick iron helmet and went clean through the brain of the undead warlord. Felix pulled the blade free of his shoulder and tossed it aside as he stood with the help of Svarn. Felix looked to see the skeletal dragon finished off by the Knight, a wash of relief came over him. The horror in this cursed Cairn was finally defeated. Svarn saw the Khajiit woman pointing to a hole and grabbed his axe. Felix nodded and followed as they both ran after the Thalmor.

Wind dropped from the roof of the warehouse and landed behind the men with Crossbows, He drew his Crow-Blades and sunk one into the stomach of the closet man, he twisted the blade and with a savage roar he sliced it across the mans stomach to spill his innards all over the metal cat-walk. The man fell onto his back but before he did Wind stuck his foot under the crossbow he was using and popped it into the air, he slid his dagger into it's sheath and caught it and dialed down on the shocked assassin as he fumbled with his own crossbow. 'Hola... ' Wind said with a slight smirk as he fired the quarrel right into the man's eye. Wind dropped the crossbow and let out a loud whistle, as he did the large warehouse doors shattered into a cloud of wood fragments. In stepped a tall Qunari with a massive curved two handed sword. His body was covered in countless scars and his horns had been cut down to just a few inches from his skin and were black from the fire that prevented them from growing again. His sword rested on his shoulder as he walked in nonchalantly and looked at Ruth and the Bounty Hunter. Wind bound across the Catwalk, the last assassin raised his crossbow but Wind jumped up onto the handrail and swung around on a chain, he planted both feet into the man's chest and he fell screaming to the earthen floor of the warehouse, his screams were silenced by the sudden and loud crunch as he fell into a large wooden crate in a cloud of wood fragments and dust. Two more fired at Wind from the ground while another two fired at Ven. Ven swatted the bolts aside with his large sword, he handled the blade as if it was a stick. Ven charged with a loud roar that shook the warehouse. He brought up his sword and it came down on the first Crossbowmen and bisected him from shoulder to waist. Ven turned and hurled his sword, the blade sang as it twirled in midair, the Crossbowmen that had attacked him was trying to load his weapon when he looked up to see the sword come at him. He screamed loudly just before the blade parted him down the middle and stuck into the wooden crate behind him. Wind flipped off the catwalk and landed on a crate with a solid thud, then back-flipped off the crate and landed on the soft earth of the Warehouse floor. Ven pulled his bloodslicked sword from the crate and stuck the tip in the dirt and laid it out and a 45 degree angle, Wind jumped on the blade like a spring-board and went skyward, he spun in the air like a top and collided with the last two assassins, his blades stuck to the hilt in their hearts. Wind stood with a wide smile and dusted off his hands like had just finished cutting wood for the fire or plowed a field. "Well... that was easy." He said to Ven as the burly Qunari wiped his massive scimitar clean with a scrap of one of the assassins tunics. They both turned to face the now alone Bounty Hunter.