Macman253

By dawn he rode to a stop outside the ruins of Snow Veil Sanctum, the ancient nord ruins had been locked for countless centuries but it was far enough from Windhelm to be a suitable meeting place. Shadowmere stamped his hoof unnervingly, he had been very edgy since they left Windhelm and it made Aventus wary but this was the most dangerous part of most contracts, many people think that they can outwit or even murder the assassin they hire and numerous times they have tried which usually ends with him sending their souls to Sithis. Aventus slid from Shadowmere's saddle and felt the ice-covered snow under his feet give as he landed. He walked to the crest of the dugout crypt to see a their meeting place covered in blood but no corpse of which it belonged to, he thumbed the akaviiri katana loose of it's scabbard. A blade he affectionately called Dusk's Fang named after it's potent Lunar Enchantment. He moved slowly down the circular stone stair, the victim was likely his client but no assassin revealed themselves, even when he stood in the center of the ruin. "Aventus... good to see you again..." Spoke a soft voice from above, a tall woman wearing black and red leather armor stood above him. She had long golden hair and a wicked curved blade dangled from her hip. He knew her and the name of the weapon she possessed and how he hated them both, standing beside her were four assassins bearing the armor of the Dark Brotherhood all with bow's trained on him. "Or should I call you Nightshade?" She added with a evil smirk. Aventus chuckled and clapped his hands and bowed as if he was at court or meeting with the Emperor himself. Astrid smiled and curtsied in a mocking gesture, "What have you been doing these many months?" She asked as the four assassins spread out, they never took their eyes off of him and they were all prepared to kill him, Aventus could only imagine the lies Astrid had filled their heads with, only a few of those that knew she had broken the Fifth Tenet had escaped her wrath, him and Nazir chief among them. 'I killed the Emir of Stros M'kai with a fork... how about you?' He quipped as his mind raced with ideas to escape this deathtrap but none he could think of would let him walk away in one piece. Astrid laughed and nodded in respect but she was done with civility. "Kill him... cut off his head and bring it to me." She said as she turned and vanished from his view, the assassins drew back further on their bowstrings and took aim. 'Wait!' He yelled, they hesitated long enough for him to get in a last word. 'Spite me on steel... let me die with honor, as a true Son Of Sithis.' He said, the assassins all exchanged glances and nodded in acceptance. They dropped their bows and drew their swords and descended into the arena-like pit. They took places around him like those of a compass and readied, Aventus drew Dawn's Fang and held it in a reversed grip. 'When the sunlight strikes over the edge of the barrow...' He said calmly, the four nameless assassins held their stances and waited, it was only a few moments but to them it felt like hours. When the blood-red sun peeked over the crest the attack came in a heartbeat. Aventus parried the charging strike from the Dunmer assassin in front of him and turned to deliver a large slash across the back of the assassin as all the strength he put into the charge sent him sprawling, Aventus' mind snapped to his training sessions in his youth with Uriel and how he learned the hard lesson of sword-play, Never attack in anger. The second attack came from his right and left as the eastern and western brothers came at him, Aventus dove between them and narrowly avoided having his head cleaved from his shoulders by their blades. Aventus swiftly picked up the sword of the fallen assassin and deflected the incoming attack from the southern assassin and followed up with a slash from both blades that rended the brother in darkness into two halves. 'Two down...' He said to himself as he faced down the remaining pair, the brutal battle had been quick but now he had the advantage. The sun was at his back and it glared directly into their eyes. Aventus flipped his new blade into a reverse grip and charged, 'Sithis take you!' He yelled as he closed the distance fairly quickly, the western assassin held up his blade in a feeble defense but the weapon snapped under the strength of his attack and Dusk's Fang cleave through it and it's owner in a fell swipe, the Imperial fell to the snow with a large gash across his face. The last assassin and him circled one another, waiting and preparing for the other to attack. Aventus felt the pain grip him and he felt the source, a slash across his abdomen that bled steadily. He knew that it was not fatal but if left untreated he would see The Night Mother before his due time. He watched as his opponent held his blade high in a Hawks Strike stance which was good against a charging foe but ineffective for a defensive stance, he prepared for Aventus to strike first, after a long moment his changed his stance to that of the Coiled Serpent, a versatile stance he often employed but it was rough and had no technique which made the fabled stance as powerful as it was. The charge came when their silence was broken when Aventus stepped on a piece of drift wood, he deflected the vertical strike that would have cleaved his head in two and countered with a slash to the chest which his rival dodged with a quick step back, he lowered his shoulder and thrusted but Aventus was quicker and spun around the thrust and countered with a hard punch to the mans nose that sent him reeling and followed through with a slash that took him across the chest from ribs to shoulder, the assassin fell in a spray of arterial blood and fell face first onto the bloody snow. Aventus let a sense of relief overtake him as he wiped his blade free of blood and gore and slid it smoothly into the scabbard at his hip. 'First move is yours Astrid...' He said to the woman hiding in the shadows, she had stayed to watch the outcome of the battle. Aventus bowed his head to his enemy and limped up the stairs, he knew that at any moment she could have charged him and it would have been over but he mounted Shadowmere and rode away without harassment, and that made him very curious.

Felix instinctively side stepped an incoming arrow and batted away a second as he took cover, the Thalmor had been waiting for them and that should have been apparent to him earlier, he felt the last beat of Okuras' heart and he told himself to pray for her later. He slipped behind the rock and began to move around behind them. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Svarn heard a woman's war-cry not far ahead, it seems the Thalmor he had been tracking found someone. He readied an arrow and took off at a run with Fjorlag in the other hand and Fenrir at his heels. When he got to the treeline he saw a woman wearing shining platemail charge at the defensive line aswell as a Argonian woman laying in the snow not far away, he buried Fjorlag's axehead into the dirt and drew back on his bow and aimed for the Thalmor commander, he exhaled slowly as he drew back on the bow and lined up his shot. He whispered a prayer to Kynareth before loosing the raven-feathered arrow that struck the silver haired Altmer standing at the rear in the back of the head, he drew a second arrow and notched it with trained precision and aimed at the Thalmor next to him as he drew his sword, the arrow he fired struck the officer in the neck and he dropped to his knees. Svarn drew Fjorlag rom the earth and vanished back into the bushes with Fenrir until he felt he had the opportunity to attack.

Seeing as how I cannot get a screenshot to upload here I am linking the mod I used for the armor of Nightshade. I found the Evil Mastermind Armor to be an epic Brotherhood assassin armor so here is the mod, all credit goes to Satyr and ZeroFrost for their awesome mod I am just using it as a visual likeness for this Rp. http://skyrim.nexusmods.com/mods/25476/?tab=3&navtag=%2Fajax%2Fmodimages%2F%3Fid%3D25476%26user%3D1&pUp=1

Nightshade felt the cold air of Windhelm sweep over him, he had a long history with this city. Just a few steps from where he was now was where all of this started, the irony of this forced a smile on his face but the engraved facemask hid it. He had a target in Candlehearth Hall that he needed to take care of, he looked at the note once again and drew the sweet smelling Nightshade across his facemask as he read. 'Dearest Nightshade, Please remove me from my desperate plight, I offer you the blood and soul of Rolff Stone-Fist. Kill him anyway you choose but he must die for all the crimes he has committed against the Dunmer of the city.' Nightshade had followed the man for most of the day and witnessed his several encounters with the Dunmer of the city and witnessed as he insulted and threatened them. The moon drifted high over the city when a number of the patrons of Candlehearth came out of the Inn and greeted Rolff, Nightshade moved in the darkness, the familiar sound of metal on metal clung to his ears as he drew his Akaviiri katana, the blade smelled of sweet Nightshade Oil so even if his prey escaped the poison would claim them within a few hours. Rolff talked with three nord's outside of Candlehearth as Nightshade crept into the shadows of the stone statue behind him. "Yeah... dat' dark elf wench didn't put up much of a fight but now their kind knows they shouldn't be here." Bragged Rolff before he took a heavy swig, Rolff and Angrenor were known for their bullying but it seemed they had finally crossed the line. While the Nord's laughed Nightshade burst from the shadows, his hand slipping up under Rolff's jaw and grasping his throat as the akaviiri straight blade slipped between his seventh and eighth vertebrae and cut the artery. The blade was sharp and it swam through flesh like an argonian through water, Rolff was dead before he knew what happened but the blade severed his spine and left him paralyzed, his death would be slow and painful and no amount of healing done by magic or alchemy would heal him. The three Nords watched in amazement as their friend was butchered, Nightshade drew the flower he had received with the writ and dropped it on Rolff. The Assassin turned his gaze to the three nords as he held the blooded blade to the chest of the middle nord of the three. 'Should one more Dark Elf woman be harmed by anyone... you three will be the first to die.' He said coldly, he stepped back and wreathed himself in the shroud of an invisibility spell and slipped away before the city guard got there.

I had always wondered what would become of Aventus and everyone in-game said he would wander a dark path so I thought I would write out a future for him, I took some liberties with the in-game characters and if you don't like it I can change it but so far this is the best character I have written for this RP. Name: Aventus Aretino 'Nightshade' Race: Imperial Gender: Male Age: 20 Appearance: Tall with handsome features and dark hair. Numerous scars on his body from years of hard training. Skills: Sneaking, illusion, Blades and Destruction Equipment: Complete set of his mentors repurposed Blades armor and hand-crafted straight akaviiri sword. Various poisons and throwing blades along with his spells. Invisibility, Calm, Poison Cloak and Poison Spray. Homeland: Cyrodiil Personality: Cold and distant but holds a special place in his heart for orphans, respects the Dark Brotherhood but does not agree with Astrid turning her back on the Five Tenets which lead to his exile. His preferred poison is a highly concentrated extract of Nightshade hence his name 'Nightshade', when he kills a target he leaves a nightshade flower behind as a calling card. Background: Aventus grew up in Windhelm despite his birth in Cyrodiil, his mother died when he was young and he was sent to Honorhall Orphanage in Riften. There he endured beatings and humiliation at the hands of Grelod The Kind, she beat him regularly because he was smaller then the others and often used him as an example to keep the others in line. His best friend Samuel would tend to his wounds and eventually he escaped and fled to Windhelm, there by performing the Black Sacrament he met his mentor and assassin Uriel. Uriel captured Grelod and took her to Windhelm where Aventus himself dispatched her. Uriel took him in and trained him to fight as the Blades do and taught him the trade of an assassin while he tended to the Sanctuary until his fifteenth birthday when Uriel left him his armor and Katana after his death at the hands of Astrid who had become wary of Uriel's prowess. Aventus donned the name Nightshade because he left a Nightshade flower at the scene of his first kill, thus the public knew him by that name. Over the next few years he began to grow in skill and prowess until even the Shadowscale Veezara couldn't best him, when Astrid had Cicero The Keeper killed and the Night Mother's Coffin sealed away in a ruin he left the Brotherhood and set out as a freelance assassin, he never agreed with the way Astrid did things and she had more then a few times openly defied the Five Tenets but her actions against the Keeper had revealed she had turned her back entirely on their ancient ways, he fled to Dawnstar after stealing Astrid's prized stallion Shadowmere where he rebuilt the old Sanctuary to use it as his home and base of operations. Using his contact's he formed in the Thieves Guild thanks to his close ties with them he was able to secure new contracts, starting a new Ritual. For one to call for Nightshade one must simply leave a letter in the Ratway with a nightshade flower on it, this new system proved to be quite profitable for him and people began to turn to him rather then the Dark Brotherhood. Astrid sent Nazir after him but the old Redguard simply joined him, too old to take up the sword once again and no longer trusting Astrid he remained in the Sanctuary where he aids Nightshade with his many contracts.

Felix knelt down and placed a hand on the corpse of one of the bandits, it's core was still warm so it was no more then a few hours old. The cold of Skyrim frostbite bare-flesh in hours but the core temperature of a corpse could tell it's age if one had a keen touch, he reached up and closed the man's eyes and whispered a prayer to Arkay before standing and following his companions. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Svarn stopped in his tracks when the faint dimples in the snow that covered the main trail caught his eye. They were too close together and in file to be a caravan and there were no animal tracks, 'Could it be a Stormcloak patrol?' He thought, he grabbed a clump of snow and sniffed it. It stank of blood and sweet smelling perfume. 'Thalmor...' He said as he stood, the tracks weren't more then a few hours old and they went deep into Eastmarch, he notched an arrow and drew Fjorlag. The question he asked was this the main force or a rear guard, the snow eliminated any trace of the main force if it had passed by. "Stop right there!" Came a voice from behind him, Svarn silently cursed himself. The voice was down wind of him so he didn't smell his approach. Svarn raised his arms in a non-threatening manner and turned, three men in Stormcloak armor stood behind him. 'What is this about kinsman?' He asked, the nord that had spoken stepped forward with his sword held up. The amulet around his neck bore the marks of a Commander. "What are you doing out here..." He asked as he placed the tip of the blade to Svarn's chest. Svarn thought for a long moment, these men were to small in number to be a standard patrol so he guessed they were scouts. 'I am returning a bounty letter to Solitude.' He lied, since he caught the scent of the Thalmor he longed to track and kill them. The Commander approached and looked into his eyes, the man had a long scar down his face that left his right eye cloudy. The Commander smiled, "Give me the letter and go..." He said, Svarn chuckled and turned away. He doesn't pay bribes to corrupt guards. The Commander growled in anger at Svarn's defiance and raised his sword, Svarn turned and caught the blade as it came down on the hard oak axe-handle, he drew his dagger from his belt and placed it firmly against the Stormcloak's neck. 'A good soldier never raises a blade to an innocent man... a good man never steals another man's livelihood.' He said coldly as he stared into the frightened nords eyes. 'Because you never know when that man will take your life...' He said as he gently removed the dagger and continued on.

Yeah but they don't know that, usually it is fortified so if the Thalmor took it out we wouldn't know quite yet... it's fairly common, one group will come in and wipe them out and take over then get removed by another group or imperial forces who then abandon it and it gets occupied by bandits once again... it would be likely to change hands, but then again it isn't my RP so the status is ultimately left up to the majority.

Felix felt the chill of skyrim bite at him, he would very much like to retire to the warm breezes of Stros M'kai but his dream for the future would cost him a great deal of gold. He hated Eastmarch, it was one of the parts of skyrim that lived in eternal winter, an interesting country to him. The half by the sea lived in permanent winter and the other only saw snow on the coldest of days. 'Valtheim towers are usually occupied by bandits... if you want to examine the country side from there you will have to parlay with them or kill them and mind you, they will most likely have it fortified.' He said as he leaned on his staff which for the last few days he had been using for a walking stick and a guidestick. Svarn looked to the north, his bounty was due in Windhelm but with his status with the Stormcloaks he wouldn't be able to claim it, in the civil war he scouted for Markarth and its imperial supporter Jarl Igmund, while he mostly hunted Forsworn he also hunted Stormcloaks and they would remember him, the tales of Wild Heart told by the Forsworn had drifted into stormcloak ears. He packed camp when dawn broke, hunted him a few hares and moved north, he could turn in the bounties in Solitude but what worried him was the bandits at Valthiem Towers, they always demanded payment since they owned that stretch of road.

Salvador returned to his loft apartment to find a young dark-haired woman with deep brown skin, she was persian. A gift from the Shiekh and one from his herd. Salvador smiled as she danced nearly naked on the silk sheeted bed, he set Maria down on the crystal table and picked up the wine glass filled with the blood of his slain enemy, his preferred blood. Most Ventrue drank from young girls or boys and they drank from them exclusively, Salvador preferred the blood of his vanquished enemies, his current drink came from a buisness rival in his holdings in South America. The memory of his demise slipping across his mind with a faint smile. 'Jasmine... it has been sometime.' He said calmly as he sipped, feeling the blood swim through his veins and restoring him. His buisness affairs left him little time to feed, being the Sheriff gave him many responsibilities but left him with greater power and control. His rivals in the clans hated him because he defied nearly every standard amongst the Ventrue but they respected him because he upheld the greatest Ventrue methodology, earn power by any means nessecary. Jasmine smiled slightly, her dark eyes fixed on him. "I merely wanted to see you master... but I bring you a message, from a friend." She said without stopping her dance, her day job was that of an exotic dancer and he knew she mimicked the movements of a snake in her dance, remembering his family crest bore the symbol of a snake. Salvador's curiosity perked at her mentioning of a message, but what took his greater curiosity was the friend she had mentioned yet he made no notice of this as he swirled and drank his blood. Salvador smirked and peered into her eyes, he saw no hint of deception so he continued. 'Tell me the message...' He instructed. Jasmine slowly descended from the bedpost she was twirling around and climbed into his lap and kissed his neck. "Bjorn Gustafsson from Stockholm has arrived... a friend in the Stockhom court also informs me they have been dealing with numerous disappearences and diablarizations." She whispered into his ear, he smiled and nodded. Now the pawns were in order, time to take the king. Her information was good enough for him and for the rest of the day he rewarded her for her loyalty.

Salvador sat in his seat in the middle of the court of the Prince Of London. The court itself was a large room lined with marble flooring and pillars that also served as a ballroom when needed or a dining hall. Salvador was a tall man with a full dark beard and a thick head of hair that swept back over his head, he was muscular from countless years as a warrior and he never let that body go unlike the other members of his clan he didn't live for decadence and leisure and power-gathering he lived for a purpose he wore a dark armani pinstripe suit with a crimson red silk shirt, he preferred fine clothes, in the days of his life he was known for wearing the best clothes of the fashion, mostly because his wife made him. The suit clung to his body and nearly every finger held an expensive ring. His hand rested on the femur-bone hilt of a large rune sword as he stroked his beard and stared into the eyes of the bound kindred before him on his knees. His role as Sheriff was taxing, especially recently with all the disappearances. He hated these small fry Childes that break the laws of the Camarilla that keeps him in court until dawn, 'Warren Bolock, you are hearby sentenced to the Final Death for the crime of endangering the masquerade. How would you prefer your method?' He asked, the evidence was clear. The videos surfaced on youtube of Warren bearing his fangs at a mortal and standing over a body of a young woman. These new generation Childe's and their idiot sires have no sense of honor anymore, the man on his knees before him was fairly young in appearance but was close to fifty. The man was having a hard time with his decision, he knew he was fated for this the second he was brought into this court. "By steel Sheriff....." He said lowly, Salvador nodded. He at least had the stones to go out like a warrior. Salvador raised from his marble stone throne with the massive broadsword in his hand, the finely tailored suit clung to his body to reveal the muscles underneath. He flicked his hand and the two Kindred that held him down prepared him by pulling back his coat and pushing him forward to reveal his neck. Salvador took the phial of oil from his ghoul and gently coated the ancient blade with it and then took a two handed grip and held the blade high over his head, he exhaled swiftly and brought the blade down on the Kindred's neck with a single swift blow that cut through bone, flesh and sinew effortlessly and parted his head from his shoulders. One of his many servants stepped up and whispered into his ear as he wiped the black blood from his sword, "Sir, the meeting is at sunset... I suggest you feed and go to ground." Said the fair haired older man, a ghoul that was assigned to him as a personal assistant and a good one. He never learned their names he just called each one the same name, Jeeves. He nodded a thank you to Jeeves and snapped his fingers, 'Dispose of the body... court dismissed.' He instructed calmly as he left the main court room.

Gladly, start us up Altmer.

Felix smiled as they left, he quietly whistled a tune and trudged on with them, his preferred method of warfare wasn't in the open but he was fair in combat and he trusted his companions to fight well, he couldn't help but think this was the beginning to a tale he may one day inscribe. He knew that good adventure books were prized in Cyrodiil, particularly by the nobles who never leave their homes. Before they left he purchased a quill and ink bottle with a fresh leatherbound journal from Belethor. Svarn waited in a thick bush on the borders of Eastmarch, he had been pursuing a group of bandits for near a week. The bounty was good, would provide him with enough food for near a month. Fenrir laid by him, Svarn pulled the stripped piece of cloth he had recovered from the bounty officer in Shor's Stone that had belonged to one of the bandits, Fenrir sniffed it greedily and began to sniff the ground until he caught the scent, Fenrir turned his head to Svarn and the nord nodded. Fenrir barked and took off at a full run, Svarn picked up his hunting bow, strung it and pursued. They ran through the thick brush at full run for a very long time, the branches and snow covered limbs of the trees obscuring Fenrir to the point that all he was following was the steady crashing and frozen plant limbs breaking as the half-wolf ran through them. Fenrir was a trained war-hound and when Svarn wasn't in his direct sight he would bark so he could be found. After nearly a nights steady travel they broke through to arrive at the snow covered mountainous region known as Eastmarch, Fenrir breathed heavily as his curled tail wagged steadily and his pink tongue lulled out of his mouth. In the distance was a dim light that he immediately knew was the flicker of a campfire. 'Stay...' He said firmly, Fenrir sat on the command and waited as Svarn dropped low to the snow covered earth and moved quietly to a large rock not far from the camp, sitting around the camp were two nords, a bosmer woman and an argonian. The Argonian sat on a bedroll next to the flames and warmed his hand while a large grey haired nord roasted a large hunk of meat over the fire and drank steadily from a skin of ale, the younger nord next to him snored loudly with an empty bottle of wine next to him as he laid on his bedroll, the Bosmer woman sat on a rock nearby where she used it to sharpen her arrowheads and hum a tune, she had a beautiful voice not unlike his beloved wife Visna. These could just be travellers so he decided to wait until he was sure they were Bandits. 'Belora... would you stop that cursed humming... you are giving me a headache.' Said the surly older Nord, the Bosmer woman looked to him and just smirked and continued to hum. The Argonian laughed as the Nord gave her a hard stare and turned over the meat. 'Snorri... leave Belora alone, don't be angry with her because she would not share your bed.' Joked the Argonian as he read through some recently stolen scrolls, a large pack of them nearby. Snorri turned his one-eyed gaze to the Argonian, 'If you had just watched the guards of that payroll caravan instead of lighting them on fire! We wouldn't be hiding from the law!' The nord growled as he chucked a ball of snow at the Argonian. Svarn could see there was a strong tension in the group, he quietly drew and arrow and stuck it in the snow tip first and notched a second one. He drew back the bowstring and took aim for the Argonian. The power built into the wooden bow tensed as he drew back the bowstring to his ear, his muscles quivered with exertion as he held it there for a long moment, then he gently loosed the sting and the arrow stuck to the fletchings in the Argonian's heart, 'Were under attack!' Yelled Snorri as he jumped to his feet and picked up his warhammer, Belora dove for her bow. Svarn notched the second arrow and drew it, this time he aimed for the sleeping Nord. He loosed the arrow as he stood and it struck him in the neck, he never woke from his drunken slumber, Svarn ducked as the Bosmer fired an arrow at him that nearly hit him. He tossed his bow aside and pulled Fjorlag from the leather sheath at his lower back as he leapt over the rock only to meet the large head of a warhammer coming at him, he had just enough time to bring up the thick oaken shaft of his axe to block it before the strike took him in the face, the force of the blow rippled through his bones with excruciating pain. He pushed him off with all his might and the burly nord behind the large weapon fell on his rump. He managed to roll back just before Fjorlag's axehead bit into what would have been his torso but only found snowy earth, Svarn ducked the wild swipe of the heavy warhammer as the large Nord roared at him. 'You'll never take me alive!' Bellowed the nord as he raised the warhammer high over his head, he had Svarn dead to rights and he closed his eyes just as Fenrir burst from the bushes behind him and snarled as he leapt onto him and bit into his arm to drag him down where the half-wolf bite and mauled at the screaming nord, the wolf had ahold of his throat and soon the whimpering bandit silenced and laid still. Belora aimed her bow at the bounty hunter and slowly but steadily took steps back. 'Stay back! Don't come any closer!' She yelled, not willing to fire because she knew that if she killed one the other would kill her. Svarn turned to face her with Fjorlag in his hand. He knew he had to kill her to collect on the full bounty but he could never bring himself to kill a woman. Fenrir growled and slowly began to advance on the bosmer, 'Heel!' He said firmly, the hound looked up to him and sat down begrudgingly, Svarn turned his attention to the Bosmer woman, 'Don't hurt me...' She pleaded, Svarn drew back his hood to look her in the eyes. 'I will not... leave, never harm another soul again or I will find you... and I will kill you.' He said sternly, the Bosmer looked deep into his eyes and knew he meant his words, she grabbed her pack and quickly ran off. Svarn smiled and collected the marks of bounty he required, he buried the bodies and gave them their last rites. By then it was morning, he went back to the main road and setup camp alongside it.

Name: Svarn Wild-Heart Race: Nord Gender: Male Age: 36 Appearance: Skills: Archery, Axes, Tracking, Hunting and Stealth Equipment: Fur armor to protect him from the cold of Skyrim, His bow. His axe and hunting knife. Homeland: Skyrim Personality: Gruff, friendly to anyone that supported the Stormcloak movement and has a anger towards the empire but hates Forsworn the most. Background: Prior to the Civil war he lived as a forester for Jarl Igmund of Markarth, hunting game for the Jarl and protecting his forests from bandits and poachers. When the Forsworn began their rebellion he was tasked to scout for the Jarls army and he lead numerous raids on Forsworn camps, they gave him the nickname 'Wild Heart' because it seemed Kynareth herself blessed him with the gift of the forests heart. During the beginning of the war the Forsworn found his home in the forests and attacked him and his pregnant wife Visna, they managed to fight off most of them but they were overrun. The leader a very powerful Briar Heart and enigma known only as the Heir tortured him at first, interrogating him as to where the Markarth weaknesses were but when Svarn refused to tell him he took the wood-cutting axe and beheaded his wife with it. It was then that the Markarth Militia attacked, routing the Forsworn. Svarn was destroyed and he swore to Talos that he would hunt the cursed Forsworn to the ends of Skyrim, he left the Markarth Militia and vanished into the forests of Skyrim hunting down Forsworn and most of all, The Heir. He adopted the Forsworn name for him of Wild Heart which is whispered around Forsworn camps and is synonymous with death. His preferred weapon his the very axe used to behead his wife, he named Fjorlag and is hound Fenrir...

Monthly meetings if you like... gotta keep in touch. Just a general meeting I suppose.

Since London is basically the Hub of the Kindred in Europe I figure Ventrue are the current rulers of the city. But we should start at a gathering of the cities clans to discuss the recent vanishings, the 'Ball' is for the escorts and the clan members that don't deal in the affairs of the kindred as a whole, sort of business and pleasure mix.

Seems good, I like her concept but I had a story in mind for London but i suppose that can wait. Being the Sheriff for London's Prince (which I will leave unnamed since I don't know who the actual prince is) gives me a little room. I figure we could start it in a social setting... sort of a gathering turned into a ball, that way we can all meet one another in a less dark and shady thing, vampires are slaves to keeping up appearances

Name: Salvador Cortez GENERAL INFORMATION: Gender: Male Race: Spanish True Age: 427 Apparent Age: 27 Path: Religion: Catholic Clan: Ventrue Bloodline: Sons Of Cade Clan/Bloodline Disciplines: Auspex, Dominate and Fortitude Covenant: The Camarilla Covenant Faction: Ventrue Haven: London, owns an apartment there and act's as the Sheriff for London. APPEARANCE: Height: 6' 3" Weight: 220 Hair: Black Eyes: Dark (has rare birth defect, his eyes have no irises just black pupils) Skin: Brown Handedness: Ambidextrous (right naturally, comes from his extensive sword practice) Scars/Tattoos: Scar across his cheek. General physical description: Voice: Deep, slight spanish accent. Clothing/armor: Often wears tailored suits in dark black with a red silk shirt, has an appreciation for gold so he wears a golden Rolex and a gold medallion of Saint Joseph (patron saint of the dead) around his neck. PERSONALITY General Personality Traits: His personal honor means everything to him, to slight it often is met with a bloody reply. Upholds the laws of the Camarilla and the Masquerade in a brutal fashion, often committing the Final Death executions himself. Demands respect but gives respect, known to be a keen mediator and tactician (in war and business) Fears: Deep Water Attitudes towards friends/strangers: Approaches strangers with suspicion but loyalty to friends. Opinion of the world: Could care less. HISTORY Past: Born Savador Diego Ruinez, in his youth he fought for Philip The Fourth as one of his Privateer captains during the Thirty Years War. He learned the art of war on the high seas and in the new world aswell as in the courts of the king where he fought numerous duels and never lost. He had gained much favor with the king but when peace had reigned his services were no longer needed and he was abandoned by the King, it was then that he met Hernan Cortez, the once great Conquistador that helped discover the New World who had become a Vampire, Cortez took him under his wing and taught him much of honor and war. After the death of his Sire he killed his sire's assassins and took over his rivals business interests. He established himself as a keen businessmen when he bought out three of the five major shipping companies in Spain and once again found himself in the Kings court and climbing the ranks of his clan equally as fast, it was another two hundred years before he achieved his desire place as Sheriff of London, there he has resided for near a century but despite his age he has never made a move to go higher, preferring his place despite him being able to be a Prince he has survived many Princes and advised them all. Embrace: Hernan Cortez was his sire, he gifted Salvador with the Embrace when he realized the potential in the young man. Birthplace: Madrid Family/Relationships: None that are still alive. Friends: Many Enemies : Many Current Nationality: Spanish and British Current Place of Residence: His home in London OTHER INFORMATION Merits and Flaws: Backgrounds: (if applicable) Magic Items: Maria, an ancient blade forged from folded steel that has a human Femur as the hilt. http://www.hollywoodhardware.de/bladeii/blade3/pictures/drakesword.jpg Pets/Animal Companions: Gabriel and Miguel his hellhounds. Other:

Yeah, and to truly understand the V;TM stuff you need to introduce the Hunters and Werewolves since they are all apart of WOD. They both play a big factor in survival as a vampire. I will be doing a new character for this RP because my other character was set in the states so I will be building one for a more European setting.

Felix nodded, he never knew it's true location and he had only been in Skyrim for less then a year and he too was unfamiliar with it's terrain but being blind and unable to read a map also attributed greatly to that. Fighting in forests and caves made him nervous about engaging Thalmor forces, many of whom are potent wizards, they could likely burn a forest down with witch-fire or bring down an avalanche, he couldn't help but turn his mind back to Labryinthian, if he were to discover it's secrets maybe Nocturnal would gift him back his sight. The thought could not escape his mind as he dwelled on it. When Sienna declared they were to head into Eastmarch he felt pained that he wouldn't have his chance at the cavern but he will have a chance at the Thalmor and that is a good thing in his book. He walked up to Rilgumskar and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, 'I regret that when we first met I had not the opportunity to introduce myself... I am Felix and I offer my condolences to your late friend. May Arkay watch over her...' He said with a warm smile, despite his cocky and brash attitude he took death very seriously and could see that Rilgumskar was in pain.

Well I posted my sheet, since I don't know what city your basing this in I named a city off the top of my head. I hope this takes off... glad to be bringing an old character out of mothball.

<p>Turk Pitt<br /> <br /> <br /> GENERAL INFORMATION:<br /> Gender: Male<br /> Race: Caucasian<br /> True Age: 73<br /> <br /> Apparent Age: 23<br /> Path: Potence<br /> Religion: Catholic<br /> <br /> Clan: Brujah<br /> <br /> Bloodline: Anarch<br /> <br /> Covenant:<br /> <br /> Covenant Faction: (if applicable)<br /> <br /> <br /> APPEARANCE:<br /> <br /> Height: 6' 2"<br /> <br /> Weight: 210<br /> <br /> Hair: Dark, shaved into a mohawk<br /> <br /> Eyes: Blue<br /> <br /> Skin: light<br /> <br /> Handedness: Right<br /> <br /> Scars/Tattoos: Some scars from his youth, most notably a cigar burn on the back of his neck given to him by his father. Various tattoos from his youth on the streets, prison tattoos on his arms and chest.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> General physical description: Well built, fairly hairy and possesses a athletic physique.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Voice: Deep when angered but fairly normal.<br /> <br /> <br /> Clothing/armor: Black leather jacket with patch of a snake eating it's own tail (his gang's name is the Thousand Sons) a smiley face pin on the lapel, fingerless gloves with spikes on the knuckles and reflective rayban sunglasses.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> PERSONALITY<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> General Personality Traits: Doesn't tolerate disrespect, even to people he hates. A natural leader that leads by example not by might. Despite his martial preference to handling situations he is known for being fairly cunning in his dealings with other Kindred.<br /> <br /> <br /> Fears: Snakes and Nosferatu (they creep him out)<br /> <br /> <br /> Attitudes towards friends/strangers: Suspicious of strangers but very loyal to friends.<br /> <br /> <br /> Opinion of the world: He could watch it burn and not care, hates authority in all it's forms but respects the concept of the Masquerade.<br /> <br /> <br /> HISTORY<br /> <br /> <br /> Past: Raised on the New York streets to a junkie mother and an alcoholic dad that regularly beat him he learned to survive away from home, often living on his friends and girlfriends couches or squatting in warehouses. His childhood was often spent selling stolen booze or stealing cars and finding trouble. In school he played sports but never took to being a follower and often lead but his poor attendance had him removed from the team so he took to the streets where he found himself in the gang-life. It was there he met Marcus his longtime friend and cohort.<br /> <br /> They did pretty much everything together... breaking and entering and boosting cars for a local chop shop guy named Handsome Vinny. When Vinny got tired of Turk and Marcus' antics he had a rival gang take them out, Marcus was killed in a drive-by. Enraged Turk picked up a shotgun and a pistol and rode them down, killing the team meant to hit him. He found out Vinny was responsible and tracked him down and killed him. He was later picked up for the murder of the ganger and set to prison for six years.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Embrace: When he got out he met Lucas, Lucas was a Brujah that had learned of Turk's exploits and sought him out. He had taken an interest in the human because of his natural firebrand personality and cunning, knowing that the Brujah would need a kindred like him so he gifted him with the Embrace.<br /> <br /> <br /> Birthplace: New York<br /> <br /> Family/Relationships: Mother: Veronica (Deceased) Father: James (Incarcerated for life for the murder of Veronica Pitt)<br /> Friends: Lucas, Neil and Two-Coins (his lieutenants) The Thousand Sons<br /> Enemies: Lobos and his Los Lobos gang.<br /> <br /> Current Nationality: American<br /> <br /> Current Place of Residence: Villamook Lighthouse; abandoned Lighthouse not far outside of boston.<br /> <br /> <br /> OTHER INFORMATION<br /> <br /> <br /> Merits and Flaws:<br /> Fast Reflexes<br /> Disarm<br /> Ambidextrous<br /> Gunslinger<br /> Stunt Driver<br /> <br /> Notoriety<br /> Fealty (Lucas)<br /> Lost Love<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Backgrounds: (if applicable)<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Magic Items:<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Pets/Animal Companions: Gabriel the Hellhound, his most loyal friend and child-hood dog. When his father was locked away he had already received the Embrace and his dog Gabriel was on it's last years, afraid of loosing his good friend he gave the dog some of his blood to convert it into a hellhound.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Other: His motorcycle Jade, named after his first love this harley davidson is the only thing his father left him that didn't come with bad memories, his father and him built the bike together.</p>

WOD, been a very long time since I have heard this... I can barely remember anything about the setting. Figure I'll have to do some research....

Felix smiled, Labryinthian is a well known ruins that numerous thieves and treasure hunters have attempted to infiltrate to plunder its secrets, he relished the thought of going there and testing himself against the numerous traps and foes inside, his first thought would be the septims a relic from the Labryinthian would be worth and how could he sell it but he had to push those thoughts aside in favor of the bigger picture, why would they go to Labryinthian? 'Interesting...' Felix said as he caressed his beard, his thoughts turned to the legendary ruins once again. 'The magical secrets hidden there would be almost irresistible to the Thalmor... and the College.' He added, remembering the last time he was in their library he remembered reading a book on the ancient ruin and the 'Beast Within', which beast he knew not but he suspected it would be guarded by the dead. 'I recommend we go to Labryinthian, it is closer and the more immediate threat to Morthal and Falkreath...'

Felix listened to the words of his companions, he preferred to stay out of it. He listened to the khajiit, a khajiit Thane was rare but Balgruuf was known for his acceptance. He turned his head to Sienna, 'I think you should be the one to speak for us Knight...' He said with a slight smile, it appeared that Balgruuf was waiting for them and he had words for them, a job offer it seems. He turned to Okuras and leaned in. 'Don't worry Okuras...' He said with a slight chuckle, 'They didn't want me either, I guess they were afraid I would see their ugly faces.' Felix's joke was dry but it was meant to lighten Okuras sour mood. He smiled and continued to listen, what interested him was Balgruufs proposal and from what the Thane said it had something to do with the Empire.

I thought it would be best to re-up my character sheet and the sheets of his officers. So here they are in all their splendid glory. Character Name: Tripp O'Neill Character Race: Human Character Class: Sentinel Gender: Male Age: 33 Height: 6'1" Weight: 250 Eyes: Left Blue Right Green Hair(if applicable): Scruffy and wild but manageable Weapons: a Predator Mark XIII named Bianca, a few grenades and a knife. Omni Blade and his martial arts training Armour/Clothing: Armored jacket with jeans and sneakers, designed to look like normal clothing Powers / abilities: Throw, Slam and Pull. Overload, Sabotage and Tech Armor along with a bootleg copy of Tactical Cloak (Has a tendency to fail) Weapon mods: Heavy Barrel and Scope Skills: Pistols, Unarmed, Hacking, Sabotage, Battle-Tactics, Covert Operations and Starship Command. History/Background: Tripp was a Alliance Marine, his natural skill with tech and potent biotics landed him in the Intelligence Division. He quickly earned a reputation as a hero but his commanding officer betrayed him. Framing him for murder he was stripped of his rank and medals and sent to prison. Enroute to the prison the ship was attacked by Batarian Pirates and he was freed, the batarians took him in and two days afterwards he depressurized the ship and killed the crew. Taking control of their ship he renamed the vessel to "Lucky Lady" and refitted the ship into an intelligence gathering vessel disguised as a Freighter, he hired a crew of specialists and set out as a mercenary, doing any job that came to him with the clean tactical precision he was known for. His past with various intelligence operatives has aided him greatly in his career as a mercenary. He is often hired by governments and influential people to perform Black Operations across the galaxy, he is also a devote rogue. Working only for himself and his crew, although he has been known to show a soft side for the underdog he has also made a name for himself in the smuggling community, smuggling contraband has been the crew's cover story for many years and only those that can afford him know of his true purpose and the real firepower the Lucky Lady has. First Mate Tatiana Reyes: Race: Human Gender: Female Description: Beautiful features, slim and curvy body with long black hair and deep black eyes. Gear: Former Alliance Issue Marine Tactical Armor, Mark X Assault Rifle and Carnifex Pistol Background: Reyes served at Eden Prime, she lost her family in the Geth attack and has since harbored a passionate hatred of the Geth. She joined O'Neill's crew a year after she mustered out of the Alliance Marines and has served as his First Mate since then. His most loyal companion and trusted friend she also has harbored a secret romantic interest in the rogue but has never said much of it. Known to the crew as The Black Queen for her black hair and tough demeanor, she lost her eye to a stray round while on a contract for The Alliance in the Terminus system. Chief Of Operations Kex Race: Krogan Gender: Male Description: Burly (even for a Krogan) and heavily scarred, his eyes a fierce blue. Gear: Krogan Ripper Shotgun and a Grenade Launcher. Krogan Battlemaster Heavy Armor Biotics: Vanguard Charge, Pull, Thow, Lift. Background: This krogan mercenary joined the crew of the Lucky Lady not long after her founding, originally hired to kill Captain O'Neill he signed on when the Captain refused to kill him even though he was bested by him. Kex saw an ally where there was once an enemy and he agreed to join when the Captain offered it to him. He now acts as the Armory and Operations Officer along with his Krogan Commandos that he personally picks. Head Of Intelligence Dax Massani Race: Human Gender: Male Gear: Shadow Stealth Armor with built in tactical cloak and a pair of Silenced Predator Submachine Pistols and a long-range sniper rifle. Description: Long blonde hair, beautiful looks and a calm demeanor. Background: Dax grew up in the Terminus Systems, an orphan he took to thievery and grifting to make money. He was taken in by a mercenary named Zaeed Massani and Zaeed taught him to be a soldier for hire, his first fifteen years after that he became a trained operative. Using his natural charm and good looks to gather information and infiltrate. He joined the crew after Captain O'Neill offered him a place within his ship so he could strike back at Blue Sun to avenge the downfall of his adopted father. Quartermaster Kelzor Race: Volan Gender: Presumed Male Gear: His survival suit and on occasion a Carnifex Description: Hes a Volan what more can I say... Background: Kelzor was the person to talk to if you wanted anything, from the fresh off the line brand new nickel plated Carnifex to a Crusader Class Battle-Tank. He was a well known weapons dealer with close ties to The Shadow Broker, he earned quite a lot of respect from his enemies and business rivals for his cunning skills but that all proved useless when his nephew sent him to prison. O'Neill heard of this and broke him out to make use of his skills as a fabricator and supplier of contacts and weapons when needed in a pinch. Kelzor agreed to join on the condition that O'Neill put a bullet in his nephews head, O'Neill agreed and the next day The Lucky Lady became Kelzor's permanent home. Head Medical and Science Officer Leila Surari Race: Asari Gear: None Description: Light purple skin with glowing green along her head with bright blue eyes. Background: Leila was a promising academic in the years prior to her joining Captain O'Neill and his crew, she held multiple doctorates in Medicine and Science, published many works and was the go-to person for Prothean technology. She was fired from her job as a teacher and desperate for funds she took a job as the ships Medic, over time she came to like Captain O'Neill and volunteered to stay with him and the crew, bringing her a sense of worth and excitement to her life that she previously had not had. The Lucky Lady Class: Dyna-Corp Tramp Freighter Rigging: Twin cannons hidden in the bow, along with a torpedo launcher. Two Rotary Vulcan's on the Port and Starboard sections that give the Lady a full 360 cover from fast-moving spacecraft. Her engines are Ion Powered Helix Engines, designed for Frigates of the Alliance Navy they give the Lady a strong leg when it comes to speed and maneuverability. Despite her size she can move like a Gunship. Description: On The outside she appears to be a rundown freighter that is two oil filters away from a scrapyard. With a rusted hull and non-functioning turrets most just pass her off as a heap. http://www.kitsune.addr.com/Rifts/Rifts-PW-Vehicles/Merchant_Designs/EZ-XXX_Medium_Freighter.jpg Background: The Lucky Lady started out as a freighter turned pirate vessel, when Captain O'Neill liberated her he refitted her into the one-of-a-kind spy-ship she is today, giving her the firepower of a Frigate and the speed of a Gunship along with all the technology required to run a successful mercenary outfit. Her crew are all members of The Corporation, a mercenary company that Is owned and operated by its own. To the wider world The Lucky Lady is a smuggling vessel but to those with needs of her true skills and the credits to purchase them, she can be a powerful opponent or a fierce ally.