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A few of you may also remember my old saint, who never got a chance to meet her fellows in SODS :happy: :

 

Name: Iodiria

 

 

Race: Dunmer

 

 

Gender: Female

 

 

Age: 466

 

 

Appearance: Iodiria is rather lithe and delicate, with the height of an average dunmer woman, she possesses a head of red hair, varying shades streak throughout and white blonde highlights accent it. Her most notable features are her bright red eyes, flecked with a large amount of gold the latter colour has gradually faded. Her skin is a light and washed-out gold, nothing to rival its former golden splendour at the time it was initially dyed; she has extensive tattoo work all over her body, however only a few retain the metallic golden coat they used to possess, most having faded to a much darker metallic shade of grey.

 

 

Skills: Long blade, Destruction, Restoration,

 

 

Equipment: Iodiria’s primary armour consists of the ancient Indoril plate she wore as the commander of Necrom’s forces, a cuirass of fine gold, engraved with intricate Indoril patterns, and deep scores from blades and other weapons alike, it is feminine and protective, featuring a protective collar that hugs the neck, made from black leather. On her shoulders she wears an Indoril pauldron and a half, the latter having been severed in recent years. Bellow this her legs are protected by guards that run along the inner length, her outer leg and it’s tattoo’s on display. Around her waist an ornate cincture from her time as saint, attatched to which is a long train of white-gold silk. On her feet a pair of golden-heeled sabatons.

 

Her only weapon is her most prized possession: The golden scimitar mages bane, named so for it’s speciality at turning each of the destructive arts into a single strike.

 

 

Homeland: Necrom, Morrowind Mainland.

 

 

Personality: Iodiria was once an incredibly proud and pious individual, but her demeanor in recent times has turned to one of distrustful caution and fiery temper. She is a mournful soul who laments the death of all she has lost, and carries heavy burdens in her heart, she has seen much on the field of both battle and in the chambers of the clergy hall. Despite the difficulties she has faced, Iodiria still maintains her kind and mothering nature towards those around her.

 

 

Background: Born Sedura Indoril, daughter of wealthy nobility in the grave-city of Necrom, the Tribunal’s teachings were fed to her from the moment she could walk. This indoctrination and incredibly devout following lead to her enrolling in both the order of the mournful (Necrom’s elite Ordinators) and the local clergy at the high temple. This strict upbringing meant that spare time was a luxury that never happened, and simple pleasures and enjoyments were unheard of. By day she honed her body to the point of breaking into a lethal weapon, and by night her mind into a librarium of holy knowledge. Day, night, her thoughts were of the Tribunal and her faith, and as each passed her skills too increased.

 

Promotion after tiny promotion, in what is recalled as a rather minor and insignificant portion of her life, it was not until she neared a century of age that the name Sedura carried weight in Necrom, and considerable weight it had been. She was by all accounts the sole defender and holy mentor of the Tribunal forces stationed in the city, and her role encompassed both the ever-watchful duties of the cities blessed commander, and the monotonous preaching of the high temple’s matriarchal position. Both of these acts she balanced out in equal measure, and after countless battles and public gatherings, festivals and charity, she was officially recognized by the Lord Vivec for her deeds, and Sainted.

 

Known as Saint Iodiria the Mournful Soul at the time of the coming of the Nerevarine, it was not until the prophecies were complete did she set foot on Vvardenfell. Almalexia’s death had both left a gaping hole in the hearts of the Dunmer people, and an empty chamber in mournholds high chapel, a spot that was filled, however by a mortal, with the new saint herself.

 

After an intense ritual of magical dyes and eye-altering elixirs she stepped forth an omnipotent figure reminiscent of a young Almalexia, and the chambers of Mournhold did she take for her own. Through her time on her throne in the city of magic she did much for the people to ease their strain, and equally as much to tighten the strain upon Helseth’s governance, often going to drastic measure to see the corrupt king undermined.

 

It was in this city she spent her last moments as a Saint, assisting a group of heroes whom told of the Neravarine’s corruption, and the presence of a Mythic Dawn cult beneath the holy cities new foundations.

 

It followed shortly after with the true demise of the Tribunal in the heart of the people, and the eruption of red mountain seemed to further this, wiping the land clean. After years of hiding from the flowing Lava, Iodiria emerged once again to rally the people, hoping to rebuild under the name of the Tribunal. However this was all shattered when the temple of the Reclamations was set up, seeing the truth amidst the lies. It took Iodiria many years to truly realize and accept the truth that her faith was no longer valid, and her gods were nothing more than glorified thieves deeds as good as they may have performed.

And so she willingly gave up her faith to the three and was welcomed into the new order, her initial goal was to help settlers to make themselves comfortable with the confides of Solstheim, however in recent years she has vanished from the island, rumoured to be dead, the truth is that her feet now take her to Skyrim, for she has heard of the plight her people face in it's borders.

 

Edited by mythicdawnmaster
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Name: Faeryn Sethandas

 

Race: Dunmer

 

Gender: Male

 

Age: 294

 

Appearance: Tall and broad for a Dunmer, Faeryn is quite a muscular elf. His skin is a dark blue-grey, his body crisscrossed with thin, light scars. He has a sharp, angular face, a chiseled nose, and a perpetually stern expression. His dark red hair is almost black at the roots, though it is beginning to grey here and there, and it is kept cut just above his shoulders. His bangs are loose and occasionally fall over his face in a rakish manner. He has sharp, brilliantly-red eyes, like glowing rubies.

 

Skills: Long blade, medium armor, heavy armor, destruction, restoration, athletics, block, speechcraft

 

Equipment: Faeryn's armor is a suit of golden Indoril half-plate, worn by all Ordinators of Vvardenfell. The fluted pauldrons and gauntlets have been repainted to reflect the AMB Daedric letter pattern of the New Temple, rather than the old ASV of the Tribunal. His scarf, unlike that of his other Ordinator brethren, is violet, not sky blue. When out of armor, Faeryn wears a simple brown tunic and breeches with a white shirt. In colder climes, this is accompanied by a thick, fur-lined brown cloak, gloves, and boots. He often wears his hood up.

 

His weapon of choice is his a Her Hand's Ebony Scimitar, with mild Absorb Strength and Health enchantments on strike. This is leftover from his training in Mournhold, along with his scarf.

 

Homeland: Vvardenfell, Morrowind, until the Red Year. Currently Blacklight.

 

Personality: Faeryn is quiet, reserved, and sharp-witted. His temper rarely flares, but when it does, he means business. He is generally distrustful of strangers and tends to keep to himself, though he has a certain soft spot for the legionnaire, Velanya Therys. He was once loyal to the Tribunal Temple, but that loyalty faded to just Vivec and Archcanon Saryoni, before finally dissolving after the fall of Baar Dau and the eruption of Red Mountain. He is fiercely protective of the Dunmer people, and so sympathizes with House Redoran.

 

Background: Faeryn was born an Indoril, and like many crusaders of that House, he found himself a servant of the Tribunal Temple in his early years. He trained in Mournhold to become a Hand of Almalexia herself, but he failed to pass the trials of faith and was transferred to Vvardenfell to serve under the command of Ordinator Berel Sala. Unfortunately, the two did not see eye to eye; Sala refused to accept him, but Vivec saw Faeryn's potential and took him under his wing as his own personal "Hand." The Tribunal god then tasked Faeryn with handling missions that the run-of-the-mill Ordinator could not accomplish, and these tasks took him far and wide across the island. Sometimes he would work with the legionnaires across the small harbor in Ebonheart, and it is there that he met Velanya Therys. He helped her with a serial murder investigation that spanned both Ebonheart and Vivec city. They were distrustful of each other at first. But, in the end, they had fought back-to-back against vampiric cultists of Molag Bal. Afterwards, they became steadfast friends...an enigma to both their respective organizations. Eventually, they went their separate ways - she to Pelagiad and then Buckmoth, he to side of the Nerevarine himself.

 

When the Nerevarine rose to power, Faeryn was one of the few Ordinators who saw the hero for what he was. In fact, Faeryn deigned to travel with the Incarnate and fought at his side to help rid Vvardenfell of Dagoth Ur's influence. The Nerevarine was just as much of a friend to him as Velanya...so when word came to him that the Incarnate was behind attacks on settlements several years later, it was almost beyond belief. He was, however, one of the ones who realized the Nerevarine's plight and sought to release the Incarnate from the chains of Mehrunes Dagon. Afterward, he returned to Mournhold with his newfound companions to route the Mythic Dawn. He also accompanied them to Cyrodiil and assisted in closing Oblivion Gates until the Crisis was over.

 

Faeryn was on mainland Morrowind when the Red Year hit, and he assisted thousands of refugees as they fled both the eruption of Vvardenfell and the Argonian invasion. His House quickly shrunk to the ranks of the Reclamation Temple, into which he was accepted as a guard. For a time, he served in Blacklight as both guard and priest before eventually hanging up his armor and simply living as a healer. However, when the Empire surrendered to the Aldmeri Dominion, it left a bad taste in his mouth. Then, when the Great War resumed, his urge to fight was rekindled, and his adventurous spirit pushed him to the Nordic island of Solstheim...where no one knew that a true Ordinator walked among them.

Edited by AurianaValoria1
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Name: Lokar Steel-Born


Race: Nord


Gender: Male


Age: 25


Appearance: He has rather unkept hair, as if he couldn't care less for his looks. He stands at 5'11 and is rather built. He has dark brown eyes with brown hair, much to his annoyance as he wanted his hair to remain blonde, but it darkened as he aged.


Skills: He can move unseen when he needs to, but has little patience for it. He is smarter than he seems, and less brutal than he wants to seem. In combat, he uses his Sword and Shield with some measure of skill and is used to his heavy suit of armour.


Equipment: Steel armour, Steel Sword, Steel Shield, Steel Helmet, Steel Boots, Small silver amulet, Gold Amethesist ring of the Minor Knight


Homeland: Skyrim


Personality: A liar, cheater and bandit. Playing fair never meant anything to him, summed up by what seems to be his motto in life 'If you can do it, it's not cheating'. Selfish and sometimes cowardly, he is motivated mainly by greed.


Background: Lokar was born in Skyrim, in Riverwood. His father was a former adventurer, who had spent a large amount of this time building a small fortune with which to enjoy retirement. He enjoyed his childhood, and enjoyed the many stories of heros and warriors his father routinely told him. At the age of 16, Lokar stole his fathers fortune and used it to buy himself equipment. At first he intended to become one of the many adventurers that had became heros in his fathers tales, but that never really worked out. After a while, he found it was profitable to steal from people. He became part of a bandit clan, rather ironically become one of the many generic villains from the tales of his youth. Though he often finds himself opposed to meaningless slaughter, do not let that fool you. He has spilt innocent blood before.

There isn't a word to use for the gang of cut throats that he joined. They were cruel, vicious and violent. One day, after refusing to butcher a family of three, Lokar was chased half way across the hold. He never did figure out what happened to that family, but he was alive and that is all that mattered.

Cautious from this, he didn't band together with other bandits for many years, as he considered it too risky. Lokar became more of a lone high way man than an actual bandit, and much pefered this as it put him incharge of what crimes he commited.




Name: Xenaxes


Race: Dremora


Gender: Male


Age: 280 (Current spawning)


Appearance: Xenaxes stands at 6'4. He has eyes which embody oblivion. They have an iris which looks as though it is burning, one can see the moving flames if they look close enough. The pupil in the centre is a darker red. He has black skin with a tint of red and he has two fair sized horns on his head that are neither large nor small. He has black hair that is rather short as he does not like it long, citing it as a disadvantage in combat.


Skills: A brilliant fighter who stops at nothing to achieve victory, that is where anything of note about Xenaxes end. He cannot sneak, knows very little magic past a few simple summoning and destruction spells.


Equipment: Daedric armour

Daedric Shield

Daedric Longsword of the Inferno

Daedric Bow of the Inferno

Daedric Dagger

Daedric Arrows



Homeland: Oblivion


Personality: Imbued with the sense of honour that burns so bright in the Kyn, Xenaxes is the perfect example of a Dremora who may one day hold a position of great importance, which he aspires to. Xenaxes can be extremely cruel to daedra and mortals, but respects those who show their worth in combat. Xenaxes follows a set of strictures that he devised long ago in a previous spawning.


Background: Xenaxes was a Kynmarcher in his previous spawning, but after he died and slipped through the soul drain, he was demoted to Churl, as was the custom of his clan. Xenaxes was sent to the Blood Feast, where he fought against the Kvatch city guard as they attempted to enter the gate. Notable for capturing Menien Goneld, the leader of the group sent through the gate and killing the three guards that accompanied him. Xenaxes was fighting a lone Kvatch guard to the north of the Blood Feast when the oblivion gate was closed, making him one of the few to survive. The dremora Kynreeve in charge of the keep was punished for his failure and Xenaxes commanding officer, Zorth, was promoted to replace him. Zorth promoted Xenaxes to Catiff, along with promoting several other Dremora.

The blood feast was linked now to another gate, appearing in morrowind, Xenaxes was a member of the army which stormed the city of Vivec and captured it's god-ruler. Xenaxes led a group of daedra into the sewers, pursuing the people who attempted to retreat through it. He chased them deep into the sewers and once they hit a dead end, descended upon them. There were no survivors.

Xenaxes played a prominent role in the battle for the imperial city, his forces stormed through the barracks, cutting off reinforcements. While it failed to win the battle, as Martin septim still made it to the temple of the one, he was promoted to Kynval for his actions upon the day

Xenaxes has spent the past few hundred years fighting with other dremora and being summoned by conjurers. Everytime he has managed to trick them into unbinding him and returned to oblivion. The last time he fought a Dremora Kynreeve and won after a tiresome fight. Disgraced, the Kynreeve gave his rank to Xenaxes and was demoted to Churl.



Name: Coation


Race: Imperial


Gender: Male


Age: 208


Appearance: Thanks to the unaturally long life achieved through his magic, he still appears rather young. Dark hair cut very short, though it is often hidden by his hood anyway. His eyes are Light brown


Skills: Magical prowess


Equipment: Mages robes of greater magicka, Gold ring of major magicka, Jeweled amulet of Resist magicka, Boots, Mages hood of magic regeneration


Homeland: Cyrodiil


Personality: It would seem that he is suffering from some form of Physcosis, probably Chronic reactive, brought on by the stressful and traumatic incidents that forced him to lose his way for near enough a century. As such, he is delusional, paranoid and quick to anger. Coation is not physcopathic nor sadistic, though others pain intrigues him it doesn't really make him happy or elated. Before his intoxication with power, he was a kind and forgiving man. No longer. Indeed, Coation doesn't even seem to recall his full name any more, not that it bothers him much. "Names are superfluous."


Background: A young, aspiring mage who showed great potential, he became afraid of death in spite of the fact that it would be a long time before it would come for him. Learning all he could on the subject, he managed to extend his life long past it's natural limits. He joined the mythic dawn, for some time this direction helped him. Mankar Cameron promissed even futher immortality to the members of the dawn. After it's disolution despite many attempts to keep what was left of the cult together, he lost his way for a while.

Stumbling around the world with absolutely no direction, it wasn't until he stumbled upon the college of winterhold that he finally managed to get his life back to... well, normality is much to generous a word. He is more stable, at least, and might even be starting to return to how he was before this. Coation uses the colleges extensive library to futher the two things he truly cares about, Knowledge and magic.

Most around the college regard him as mad, but he hasn't done anything which has endangered the lives of the students or teachers of the college, so they are fine with him for now. For him, this is a way of dealing with his problems. Who knows, eventually it may lead to him being cured. A small chance, but he knows something is wrong with him and will take any chance over nothing.



Had to be sure at least one would be accepted, so I posted three :laugh:

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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.
Edited by Macman253
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@ Mythic: Nice adjustments...I much prefer that version of Iodiria.

 

@ Brutii: Actually all three characters look good so far.

 

@ Macman: Considering Aventus pretty much stays a kid for the entirety of Skyrim, it would be interesting to see an interpretation of him as an adult.

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Oh, I keep forgetting to say thanks, mythic. XD It will be so cool to see Iodiria again, this time in person. I wonder what she'll think of the grizzled old warriors Adrynn and Faeryn have become. ;D
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