Introductions

[floggingmolly22]

Introduction:

 

Name: Mordekai Pelius

Pronounced: More-deh-k-aye Peh-lee-us

Gender: Male

Age: 22

Race: Mix of human races, primarily Nord

Class: Undefined

Armor: Wears common clothing enchanted with powerful protection spells

Weapons: Two handed battle axe, one handed "dueling" (as it were) axe, boot knife, machete

Personality: Honourable, outgoing, has a subtle hint of a darker side that is no stranger to death and corruption

Parents: Nord mother-killed in raid

Redgaurd/Imperial/Elven father-Died in battle on the green hills of Valenwood

 

Story: Orphaned by rebel raiding party at age 13, hid in various parts of the mountains for five years. When he was 18, he did odd jobs for a band of mercenaries. At age 21, the mercenaries hired him once more: kill the children of a family, just to prove a point. He accepted and left. He returned late at night and slaughtered the swine who would dare send him to kill the children of an honourable family. Walked out, bathed in the river, and began a trek to nowhere. After a year, he decided to go South to see if he could find the relatives of his father.

[floggingmolly22]

Mordekai walks in and takes a seat at the back of the tavern. He surveys the people there, and sees that he recognizes no one. He calls for a pint of ale, and sips at it while contemplating what to do next.

[reaper13]

Introduction

 

name: wildfire

age:475 (ageing has stoped at 24)

gender:male

class:bioweapon

weapons: katana with a hidden tanto in the grip, combat knife, double barrel Revolver called 'the heart breaker' and whatever he can get his hands on

personality:he seems cold and uncareing but if you need help he'll go out of his way to help you. he has a heart of gold. his eyes can scare even gods.

 

you can find out about his past by reading my fanfiction storys at http://thenexusforums.com/index.php?showto...mp;#entry522830

 

you can see what he looks like at

http://www.tesnexus.com/modules/members/index.php?id=659645

 

he is a mercenary. if you are starting a game and want to hire him PM me. he needs the work :biggrin:

 

 

 

a man walked into the tavern and looked around like he was looking for someone. those who made eye contact with him felt their blood run cold. he than sat down in the back and started to clean his gun. as he did he muttered something that sounded like " why is she always late?"

[Osiris2010]

Introduction:

 

Name: Camuel Laureate

 

Pronounced: Sam-u-ell Lor-ree-art

 

Gender: Male

 

Date of Birth: Evening Star 20, 3E404

 

Age: 29

 

Race: Breton Vampire

 

Class: Rogue Necromancer

 

Armor: Although highly proficient in both Heavy and Light armors, I am not one to flaunt my abilities, lest one may become suspicious and my...hobbies may have to intervene. Instead I travel from town to town, hiding behind robes of the common mage.

 

Weapons: My old trusty Mages Staff from my naive teen years in the Arcane University, still serves me very well. But still, nothing beats draining the soul silently from a sleeping victim. A mere touch is enough, that is if I hav'nt become over zealous during feeding and torn their throat out...Accidents happen I suppose...

 

Personality: I mostly come across as trustworthy, usually thats because I have already clouded their petty mortal minds with charming thoughts. Unfortunately for man and mer, I hold no regard for life...Mannimarco himself realised that and immediately issued a killorder after he discovered I was using my brother and sister Necromancers in my...um...experiments.

 

Parents: Father was a male without a father of a man, he abandoned my mother, sisters and I. Now his corpse adorns the wall of Memorial Cave...What a fool to open a shop outside of the Imperial City, no guards to come to his aid as I burned the building to the ground. My mother and sisters were killed recently by that blasted group of amateur assassins known as the Dark Brotherhood...Apparently Mannimarco sanctioned the hit, even the King of Worms feels I am too great a threat...He will soon lie with the maggots, just you wait and see. So far I have succeeded in killing the last two assassins sent after me, unfortunately the latest unknown to me was wearing a ring which reflected harmful spells...Not even my hereditary resistances could protect me from the soul drain I have filled so many gems with...

 

'The shockwave unleashed by the exploding fireball brought a weak smile to the vampire Camuel's face. It was clear from the bloodcurdling yell that another brother of the black hand had failed to complete his task. Flicking one satin-black wind braid behind his right ear, Samuel approached slowly. There was a dead silence, even the crickets had sat back to watch the unyielding evil claim yet another life, the muteness was only broken by the crunching of charred twigs and leaves as he approached the gravely wounded Argonian. He was a strong one, the flames had seared clean through his armor, his right eye was gone...Burnt away...and his guts well...they reminded Camuel of the sausages he used to have on the spit as a child. Barely conscious, the Argonian began to drag himself towards his fallen dagger. A cold sense of delicious evil lust filled Camuel through and through. He stood, godlike, watching the Swampmeat attempt to pull himself hopelessly towards his only weapon was a futile image. Upon raising his right arm the Argonians plan was undone, with a simple flick of Camuel's wrist his glass dagger was cast away. Coughing thick foamy blood the Argonian, rolled onto his back.

"Looks like you won't be going home tonight" sneered Camuel.

"No matter, in a few seconds your soul will be mine!"

Whipping his arm into the air, Camuel held the Argonian telekinetically. Slowly lowering the semi conscious victim, Camuel approached. Reaching into his deep pockets he took out a black soul gem and placed it against the kneeling Argonians scaley forehead. With each soul removed the taker would become more and more powerful. Camuel was young in comparison to most other Necromancers and unfortunately his impulsiveness left him unaware to the true genius hidden behind the Dark Brotherhood. Camuel did not realise that they knew him better than he knew himself. As his eyes grew black and he placed his other hand against the Argonians head, the sly lizard slipped on a reflective ring. The ordinary process is a very simple one. Extracting the soul takes little more than a second...Camuel should've known better when he felt the skin of his hand begin to fuse with the gem. Screaming in agony, Camuel could do little but watch as the gem grew white with heat. The Argonians corpse began to convulse viciously, tearing the front of its skull out as it whipped its head back shaking as if struck by lightning. Cam was thrown back, collapsing onto the charred earth. Feeling his hand being absorbed by the gem, the light was intense, burning his skin as if he had wandered out in the sun. And then mercy came, as Camuel screamed in pain holding his hand high away from his scorcing body, he felt what he never hoped to ever feel. The gem began to cool, but as it did, it slowly began draining his soul. Behind Camuel's eyes the world went dark, every misdeed he had done, every murder he commited all struck him at once. His memories, his childhood, his life...They all began to drain away. All of a sudden reality struck him again. The gem was gone...He could feel blisters all over his body, looking up at the specks in the sky full consciousness began to flood back. The pain was gone, looking down at his hands there was nothing to see other than sun blisters...He had half expected to have no hand but, it mysteriously still remained. Realising his injuries, he dragged himself to his feet. He wasnt physically hurt too bad but, there was no way he could even cast a simple level spell to defend himself. It was time to move, and fast. The nearest city was Cheydinhal, but there was no way Camuel felt up to risking running into Dark Brotherhood spies. From earlier scouting around, he found there was a local isolated tavern not too far away. Limping, but moving as fast as he could Camuel managed to evade the odd wolf out searching for deer and shoved on the big oak tavern door. A bloodied handprint marked from his torn blisters, and he pulled his hood up n dwn obscuring his face. It was strange how no matter what public place he went to an uncomfortable silence would ensue. It was as if the people subconsciously knew he was a cold blooded murderer. After a quick glance around, Camuel sighted a number of people, but only one concerned him. Slowly walking and seating in an alcove corner, he watched the vampire at the bar...Vampires have a form of psychic connection and Camuel knew that one was an assassin. Leaning back in his chair, a jolly Nord rambled on about the pig-faced orcs, completely plastered on Mead. There was another vampire sat in a corner, her beauty masked her true age. Coughing quietly and having a quick scan around, Camuel realised the the Vampire 'Vulture' was the only one who was a threat...I'll deal with him later, he thought.

[MnorJium]

Name: Mnor'Jium

Race: Argonian / Dremora

Class: Half-Demon Valkynaz

Age: Thousands (Has lost memory of it due to Skooma overdoses)

Description: Has a scarred past of being dejected by his Dremora father for being part Argonian, and hates his Kahjiit mother, calling her an "annoying cat-lady who was never my mother." He claims to have been born in Dune, though still fights for his Argonian people (or does he?) (because) of how much his father hated them. Of course, much of this history is only claimed by Mnor'Jium himself. His mother and others claim differently. Mnor'Jium is primarily a pariah in the communities which he has passed through, and often is feared or put down by others as "insane" and "a half-demon reject" "Skooma-slurping hypocrite" and "rabid Churl scum." The reality is, this Argonian has been known to kill off many of his own race, the Dremora in Oblivion and has claimed to have killed his father at the age of 14, but this is not proven (nor is his father's existence). His only known Kahjiit mother, though, does not deny it. Mnor'Jium made his largest outbreak at the age of 43 (or was he?) when he stole a silver longsword from Skingrad and refused to give it back. From then on, he kept stealing and killing off more and more guards as his days went on, until he piled up a bounty of over 600,000 gold, and eventually spent his due 16 years in jail for it. He now considers himself Lord Mnor'Jium, saying his name was a rune destined to "lead the Argonian race to the top of the quintessential rainbow in Nirnian epistemology and conceive a new seed to their true Alien and multi-dimensional ancestry." Whatever this meant, he has apparently had some trouble following it due to realizing his most recent Lady in this leadership was just a physical apparition of his skooma.

Physical Appearance: Spikey fins on his head, dark-black-skinned with an eerie red glow. A demonic and foreboding facade. His face is bony and multi-colored. His trademark fashion is red silk robes. He has a magic carpet, but it is quintessential and doesn't always exist in the dimension of time.

<OOC> Not sure if I introduced be4 sorry.

[redcore]

Introducing Jacob of the Redcore Warriors

Name: Jacob of Ippin Getsue

Pronounced: Jay-Kub uv Eeppin Get-soo-ay

Age: 17

Sex: Male

Race: Human

 

Weapon of Preference: Katana

Fighting Tactics: Improvised with heavy samurai influence

 

Attitude: Kind and generous to those deserving. Cold and ruthless to others. Upon first meating another, keeps highest hopes, and allowing the other to form their own character before him.

 

Many years ago, a group from Reku Sono Getsuei Mabushii (Land of theRadiant Sun) came to this area to escape the harsh, turmoil ridden place. They formed a town, Ippin Getsue (Gem of the Moon), and began to live their lives. The area was rich in soil, making agriculture an easy thing to accomplish. They were also very open with other people. They married others, and brought the culture in, while spreading their own. It was a true cultural fusion. Not all was peaceful, though. Wild and evil creatures often would attack the village, so it was neccessary to keep a group of well trained warriors at hand. Children were offered willingly by their parents, with consent of the child, at an early age, usually around five. They would then become part of training regimen that would push their bodies to the limit. They were taught perseverence, bravery, and honor. Their strength, agility, speed, endurance, intellegence, willpower, and charisma were honed to a peak point. Those few who were unable to perform were sent back to their families, with no shame or loss of honor. They were taught important survival skills, such as how to hunt, gather, cook, and build shelter. But most of all, they were taught incredible skills in combat.

 

Each child was able to choose from a variety of weapons which included katanas, nunchaku, bo staves, tantos, wakasashis, and tonfas. After selecting the weapon, they were sorted into groups and placed under the mentorship of the master of the chosen weapon. They would train with these weapons for 5 hours everyday, with the exception of Sundas. Sundas was the day of pacifism in their religion. This was the day they focused on their gathering, cooking, and shelter building skills.

 

At the age of 16, when the training is complete, the new warriors are sent out into the world during a period called Nendo Saiban (Year of Trial or Trial Year). During this time period, they were not to return to the village, but to attempt to make life on their own. This is when their skills were truely put to test. They went out in pairs, this way they could report on the other when they returned. After one year, the pairs would return to the village. Those who did not return were assumed dead.

 

Those who did return were then given a choice. They could either stay and protect the village or head out into the world again to claim glory for themselves or their family, gain riches, or build a family. Those who stayed remained in the village for the remainder of their lives, protecting the village.

 

Jacob was born to an Mabushiin mother and an Imperial father. His name was taken from his grandfather on his father's side. He was smart, perseptive, and intuitive. His hair was of a dark brown hue, and he had eyes of the most strong hazel. He is much taller than average, but also heavy in figure.

 

Jacob, entering into the program, chose to learn the ways of the katana. He proved to be quite versatile, showing great potential in strength, speed, and agility. He became the best katana user of his class. At the age of 16, he left out into the world with his freind, Toshi. Toshi, however, was killed only two months into the year. Jacob and Toshi were attacked by a group of theives in their sleep. Toshi, a bo staff master, was able to take down two of the eight before one of the cowards shot him in the back with a bow and arrow. Jacob flew into a rage, slaying the remaining six in a mere 3 sweeps of his blade.

 

After this horrid and cowardly act, Jacob had made his choice. He swore that after the year had ended, he would return to the world to fight against such people.

 

When the trial ended, Jacob returned. He reported the year, and told of Toshi's death. He explained why he would not stay. After a week of protected rest, Jacob was ready to leave. Before he exited the gate, his father stopped him. Holding out a long object wrapped in cloth, he told Jacob that he would always be here. Jacob took the object and unwrapped it to find that it was the katana Taiyou Sen. His father explained that it was his marriage gift to him from Jacob's mother's grandfather. If holds the power to destroy evil. With this new, honorable blade in hand, Jacob exited the gate of the village. His journey had begun.

[wasder]

Introducing...

 

Name: Moradir (Although known by many other names)

Race: Dark Elf suspected, although never seen without a hood and mask

Weapons: Elven blade, a bow sung from the trees and knuckle bladed gauntlets

General class/fighting style: Blade, archery, h2h, destruction magic and sneaking

 

It is unknown where he lives, although people who have worked with him on various thefts, assasinations and missions have seen him neither eat or sleep. His mood can change dramtically, but he has never been heard to shout or be angry. He will say things thats meanings are unclear, but are usually true. He has occasionally vanished for months on the run, but for all his many dark deeds he is not evil, and has never spent a night in a cell.

[Zephyr2011]

Intrucing Kriak

Name: Kriak

Prounounced: cr-I-ak

Race: Sarosian Hellblade, native of the Armaggedon Isle of Saros, crimson eyes

Gender: Male

Age: 23

Preferred weapons: Bow of Shadows and Sithis's Hand (dagger)

 

Fighting style: just dip an arrow in a lil' o' this lil' o that and down they go, one shot one kill. Of course, there's nothing like a good ole' fasioned backstab, a la poison of course.

 

Attitude: quiet and cryptic, doesn't like being crossed.

 

"Barkeep, can I get a whiskey? Daedric Fire if you have it. Hello Moradir, been a while. Hows business doing, been a while since we last worked together."

[mjjking]

Introducing Katellio Vannodette

 

Sex Male

 

Race Breton

 

Age 27

 

Class Tinker/Dwemerologist

 

Appearence Rather tall at 6' 1". He wears copper colored robes and is bald; his head is adorned with strange dwemer optics of unknown purpose several buldges can be seen on his back and waist. His eyes are a striking copper swirled blue. his face is almost classicaly hansome save for an oddly crooked nose witch was broken on an unknown exploit; though most probably relating to the dwemer. he is rather thin, but years of climbing thrugh rubble and down ropes into almost unreachable sections of old ruins has made him wirey and rooster-strong. . .he often acts a little scatter-brained but is supremely intelligent and his reflexes; strange for a breton, are faster than many dunmer.

 

 

A tall, bald Bretonian walks into the tavern mumbling to himself about nothing in particular. He looks up long enough to signal a barmaid and does not even look at her as he orders his Mazte. as he sits he rmoves his cloak witch had been hiding several lumps on his back and waist. the lumps are revealed to be dwemer tools and artifacts. The one on his back in particular, turns out to be an extremely rare dwemer Zap-gun, while the ones on his waist appear to be a variety different objects including several small orbs with pins sticking out from them. . . . . .

[thewolffshaman]

Introducing Vagrant

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Wulffe_Mortez/VagrantCharacter.jpg

Name: Vagrant

Pronounced: The way it looks

Age: Unknown

Sex: Male

Race: Ghoul

 

Weapon of Preference: An old rifle

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Wulffe_Mortez/Mosin-3.jpg

Inventory: Small amount of 7.62 ammunition, an rather odd looking knife, and a Dwemer engineered pistol.

Fighting Tactics: Ranged

 

Attitude: Distant, very cold. Seems emotionless and cruel.

 

Appearance: Leather coat with old rusty bullets slung across his chest. Carries an unusual old rifle slung on his back. Has a distinct tattoo under his left eye. His eyes seem empty, soulless.

 

Some Backstory: Soul Searching, http://shamanphoto.blogspot.com/