WolvenEdge

You might be slightly confused as to how felines (aside from cheetas and jaguars) use their claws. Canines use their claws for traction, rarely as weapons, because using them on the earth wears them down. A canine who is allowed to run like he/she should be has robust claws, made for gripping earth, rock and ice, allowing you to accelerate faster and turn fast, but worn dull from use, not well-suited for combat. Felines (aside from the forementioned exceptions) use their claws for combat or climbing, and as such have retractable claws that grow quickly and come in more fragile sheddable layers, to keep them sharp. Wear your claws down much, and you lose your most viable attack option, and your claws aren't designed to have much lateral force (like the forces placed upon claws used for gripping earth when turning) placed upon them. It's like comparing a broadsword to a rapier, each is superior to the other in different uses. Khajiit are designed feline, their base mode of attack is sneak and ambush. On another paw, the bones/animations for the claws would be so subtle that only the OCD folks would notice it, so the simpler way to go would be to make slightly smaller claws that are seeable when they need to be, and yet easy to ignore when not. In the end, it's up to the developers, just putting my paw in here.

>ears perk< Just clarifying here; the two towers with a thin bridge over the river that I described in my post was/were Vaulthume. I was trying to give the idea that the bandits who often take residence were already taken out by the Thalmor. It looks like Jharret is a little ahead in tracking. I am looking forward to meeting your characters in future posts. Hope this helps.

Could the 'bumps' described possibly be scent glands for argonians?

>ears droop< it seems that winning one of these is a lot of work. . .

>ears perk< My username came directly from the name of a wolf-sword in a book I wanted to write. It had stylized wolf paws for the crosstree, a talking wolf-head pommel, lightning powers and everything, but alas, 'The Search for Wolven Edge' had too many ideas behind it, and I have yet to truly pick just one.

>tilts head left< does this mean I win?

Pain. He felt like he was being crushed, his head ached from all the thoughts pouring into and out of him, each different and spinning into each other as he struggled to escape, but for some reason he could not move in one direction, and his scattered efforts failed. It was excruciating, the feeling of being ground together and apart, each piece of you abrasive and being forced against every other piece with no semblance of order, and above all the pain of compression as if being felt a multitude of times from many eyes. Jharret's eyes snapped open as he sat up. He took several deep breaths, and tried in vain to relax. He patted down his fur, and shook himself off as he rose. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, and it was cold. The sabercat fur kilt he was using as bedding was frosted over, and the air burned through his nose in a manner that was somehow familiar. He stretched, taking in the first rays of dawn, feeling some measure of peace returning to him. The dream again. It was only his second night, and he had had the same dream both times, but the memory of it was already fading into the mists of sleep. His right paw felt the pendant he wore, feeling it tingle through his entire being as he pondered the deep, bright blue, ever-shifting glow inside the pitch-black chrystal. He straightened the fine steel chain that held it to him, pulling any errant hairs from under it so that it sat more comfortably under the thick, longer fur of his dark mane, which he proceeded to run his claws through to pull out the tangles. Once he finished grooming, he proceeded to his morning training. He picked up his weapon, a sword with a broadsword blade on both ends of the handle, and started to warm up, idly spinning the dual blade through the fingers of his right hand, then his left, then back again. He closed his eyes as he moved to less idle drills, the fingers of his hands changing from a loose spinning grip between the fingers to a more stable one, his fingers gripping the hilt as he started the momentum, one hand firmly gripping the weapon at all times as he slid through the deadly dance. The dual blade spun through the grips of attack and defense as he flew through the katas that spun through his mind. His eyes opened as he moved to more difficult strikes, parrying and dodging imaginary opponents as his body and weapon glided through the stances as one. He spun, the blade spinning around him, and then coming to a sudden stop behind him in his right hand, his left hand extended forward. He held that stance until the sun was three quarter the way up, and then relaxed. He placed the dual blade within easy reach and shook the dirt and grass from his kilt, which he proceeded to fold around himself. He donned the greaves and bracers, also crafted from sabercat pelt, and cinched the steel fittings snug. The sword belt he donned last, across his body from right shoulder to left hip, and tied the dual blade into it, the knots in the leather of the ties and the folded scabbards, which simply hung off the belt when not in use, were designed to come undone quickly when the ends of the leather strips were pulled in a certain fassion. A morning routine, a feeling of familiarity, but from where, and when? He had only been for two days, so why did he have these habits? He snarled slightly and pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind. Right now, he needed breakfast, and he did not wish to so soon deplete his meager stores, so hunting it was. The rapids beside him were suitable for fish, but was moving too fast to swim in. He decided to follow the river northward until he found a place that would better suit fishing. He dug his bare foot-claws into the earth (his greaves had no covering for the feet), and set out northward. In a few minutes he saw a valley, nestled within was a city that appeared to be half ruin. The rapids had become a waterfall, but he could see that the river became broad and slow past a stone bridge. His stomach growled, his hunger pushing his curiosity into the back of his mind. He picked up his pace down the path, looking forward to the fish. It seemed the only things that swam in these waters were corpses. Jharret's hunger gnawed at him, driving him toward food. He decided to lay low near this calm water, for as much as the bloated contents of the river stank, there would still be deer or other prey coming for a drink. His patience was rewarded when a young buck crept to the edge of the water, and made the mistake of letting its guard down. Jharret struck quickly from downwind, digging the claws of all four paws into the creature's back, and digging his teeth into the back of it's neck. He clung on as the creature ran eastward, following the north side of the river's curve. As the buck began to tire, he releaset the grip of his left hand and grabbed the buck's left antler, then mirrored the action with his right hand. He then released the grip of his jaws, and when the buck bucked, he went with the momentum, directing his weight around like a pendulum, throwing the buck off balance. He also managed to throw himself upward, so that when the animal slid to a stop, he landed neatly next to it to finish it off with his dagger. >You fought well, now may your strength become part of my own. I wish you peace in your next life.< The words moved from his lips as though he had said them hundreds of times before, yet he also meant every ancient word. The deer's blood ran, and he began to skin the beast. He then used his dagger to dig out the turf and make a small fire pit, and proceeded to cure (fire dry, in this case) most of the meat, while he ate one hindquarter and a pawful of offal raw. The river had become rapids again, and there was the remains of a castle or watchtower that had a tower on either side of the river connected by a narrow bridge that spanned high above the river just before it became another waterfall. His curiosity got the better of him. Once he had cured the meat and other edible organs for travel, he hopped from rock to rock across the rapids and stepped into the tower. The only population here was corpses as well. The bodies had had their life ripped out by several means; sword, axe, and at least two varieties of magic. The way the corpses were arrayed suggested that they had come under attack from the west, and there were many traces of at least one group headed east. He wished to meet these warriors, if for no other reason than to see what people this land, so familiar and yet so new, had to offer. He had plenty of meat for a journey, and there seemed to be plenty of water about, so he smiled slightly, dug his foot-claws into the earth, and started to move eastward.

>ears perk< I read the rules, but please tell me if I mess up, and I will correct.

>ears perk< Hope this works. This is my first RP thread, so please bear with me. Name: Jharret Race: Khajiit (currently. In reality he is the result of the souls of fifteen Lilmothiit warriors being compressed into a black soul gem, which was then forged, along with the warriors' magically fused canine teeth, into the necklace his current body must always wear. He has no idea that he is really the pendant on the necklace.) Gender: Male Age: unknown, appears to be about 17 Appearance: Black fur with jagged orange/gold markings on sides of face, blaze(strip up forhead but not to the top of head), backs of forarms, backs of last joint in legs, and two Vs (one on top of the other, >> sort of) pointing down his back (tops of one behind shoulders, tops of the other just below last rib on either side of back), deep blue eyes with gold flecks. The jagged orange/gold fur on the backs of arm and leg are grown out three inches further than the rest. Grown out neck fur almost to mane appearance. Wears a kilt, bracers, and greaves(only on shin, no protection above or below) all made from sabercat pelts with steel fittings, and a pendant that appears to be a black chrystal with a strong blue glow. Double-bladed broadsword acrost back, right shoulder to left hip, and has an exceptionally bushy tail for a Khajiit. Skills: adept with Double-bladed sword (double broadsword or short bladestaff) both attack and defence, apprentice with broadsword defence, high-level apprentice(almost adept) in light armor, fast and fairly acrobatic (agility-based warrior class), a novice storm mage (knows sparks and shock cloak, can only cast shock cloak once before running out of magicka, he is only a novice), can cast healing(will restore damaged fur. he cannot progress any further in Restoration because most of his restorative abilities are contained maintaining his current body), an apprentice level smith(can forge steel and some elven and improve to exquisite) and a novice enchanter(only basic fire and shock damage/resistance as of yet). He is a werewolf, though the 'gift' affects him differently than most, because of his unique origin(he keeps his mind, most of it, his emotion is under much less control in this state though). Equipment: steel double broadsword, sabercat fur kilt, bracers(gloveless) and greaves, all with steel fittings(very light armor), a steel dagger, a pendant made from a glowing blue chrystal and unidentifiable canine teeth on a very thin, fine steel chain(really the necklace is him, though he doesn't know it), three potions of minor healing, a potion of stamina, a potion of minor magicka, a large chunk of preserved venison(about 2 weight units), two lockpicks, and two septims. Homeland: Skyrim, a long time ago, though. Personality: curious, strong-willed, and intelligent, though often seems haunted by nightmares stemming from his violent and apparently very painful origin. Has a hard time giving up, and his natural ferocity makes him a bit of a hothead. He is often lonely, though he tries to hide it. He has an innate fear/distrust of mages (but not spellswords or dabblers, it's generally the robes and the snobbish attitude that irk him) because he instinctively knows of his deaths at mages' hands. He is still learning current languages, and often has trouble communicating. He will often lapse into a strange, archaic dialect that sounds like a mixture of Ta'agra and ancient Nordic. Background: He barely remembers anything. The process that the mages of old used to compress fifteen warrioir's souls into a black soul gem and then forge it into a pendant has almost completely erased his memory (memories?). As mentioned, he is really the pendant, though he has no knowledge of this. Apparently he was tossed onto a random Khajiiti adventurer's body when a someone was looting a thalmor corpse. How he ended up in that particular justiciar's pockets is a mystery, but apparently the thalmor agent and the Khajiit had killed each other in their fight. The body, in response to the massive amount of energy it was exposed to, regenerated, and took on the fur markings of the amalgamaed soul(s?) within the pendant. The body served as a catalyst to fuse the soul together, and thus Jharret woke, knowing only his name, an ancient language, and his current skills. He forged his weapon and armor at a nearby abandoned town (the remains of riverwood), leaving the gold from the adventurer's pockets as payment for the ores he found in the smithy. He now wanders north, hoping to find out what on Nirn is going on and where his skills would best be used. >tilts head< workable? am open to opinion and/or constructive criticism and help.

>ears droop< so. . . even default Lilmotthiit is out? (Elder Scrolls; Lilmotthiit is the fox race thought to be related to the Khajiit. Also thought to be extinct, and I admit that I might be misspelling it.) because wolf here doesn't want to have to play as smoothskin, scaleskin, or cat. Will play cat if I have to though. >left ear perks< exotic weapons(bladestaff please)?

>tilts head< Do I have to play a race from Skyrim? because I would like to play as an obscure breed of Lilmotthiit (evolved more wolf-like for Skyrim's climate) if you give permission.

>ears up< I had some randome guy run up to a friends character yelling, "So you call yourself a mage?! I challenge you to a duel!" at which point he chucked lightning at me, and one of the Whiterun guards flattened him. Then the guard observed the body, and said, "I'm going to get whoever did this." It was a long night.

>looks up troy polamalu< . . . >mouth open, ears straight out< uuuh. . . my character has straight, reddish hair, black-->grey fur with tan facial fur markings, and DOES NOT PLAY FOOTBALL. I don't get it, this Troy fellow even wears shoes. I have never been much of a sports fan. . . >closes mouth, ears droop< sorry to upset, I had no clue. >ears perk< I noticed that I tend to collect skill books, and rare cloaks/capes, though I never really use them, and I am apparently nowhere near alone in collecting the dispatch notes of those sent to dismember me.

>ears perk< Well said, Elleh. Personally, as male, I play male, and prefer third person. >ears out< Let me explain before giving me that look! I understand that my point of view cannot always be considered human; I am far more wolf than man, and I have come to accept this through much hardship over the past several years of my life. >left ear perk up< First, the facts: Males are most often born with greater muscle mass; it is basic anatomy in most mammalian species, and this is compounded by biochemistry; chemicals of the androgen group are often natural steroids, boosting muscle growth for speed and strength, thus depriving most of us males of fine penmanship around our early teen years as our mind struggles to keep up with our development. The female keeps the fine tuning, the male gains greater force and speed. Females don't have this natural advantage in strength; they have to earn it. I have seen many females entirely capable of out arm-wrestling many men, but usually they had to work harder to gain that strength than the males do, often granting strong females a stronger will than many males. >right ear perk up, left ear out< The female also has different mental adventages than the male; the androgen Testosterone causes vast differences in the development of the male fetus' central nervous system, often giving us a reflex boost, a tendancy toward certain mathematics, and a strong tendancy toward risk. In any population dynamic the female carries the population, and the males are far more expendable, and instinctively, we know it. The female is gifted in finer thought; often not as quick as the male, but given to deeper, clearer judgement. Thus, based on thought as well, males often make better warriors than females, but females tend to make better politicians, attourneys, et cetera. There are notable exceptions, and genetics is the key to the entire puzzle, I personally know a family (whos name shall remain secret, but it isn't mine) where the above traits are almost entirely reversed, and they still fit into society very well. >both ears perk up< Now that the facts are out of the way, time for my pathos; I am a male wolf; my raison d'tre is to protect my pack, those precious to me, at all costs. The female gender is precious in both my sight and His, thus I personally cannot stand to see them hurt. I tried to play as a female once, but in the first fight she was almost killed and my protective instinct kicked in and I outside the computer became wolfishly ticked. My unfortunate door still bears the marks of my fury, as would my pitiful body's fist had I a tougher door. As for playing third person, I play a burst-DPS character; dual wielding longswords and wearing only light armor, so I use third person to simulate periferal vision, that way I don't get hit so often. Thus, for the sake of my doors and my psyche, I play as male. >ears half back< And before anyone else brings it up, I am straight. Very poor taste some comments. . .

>ears up< the mods I use; Grimoas plantigrade feet Dual Sheath Redux aMidianBorn Wolf Armor and Skyforge Weapons (the dark tint) XPMS skeleton (swords and daggers on back) Apachii SkyHair CoverKhajiit Smoother Khajiit Faces Immersive Animations Immersive Armor WATER RCRN >tilts head left< come to think of it, I am always trying to play an agility-based glass cannon. . . brobably also one of the reasons why I play as a werewolf.