We will see eachother in CwF 
OOC (18+) Dirty Coin
- Thread starter The Phantom
- Start date
-
Hey there, and welcome to our roleplaying section. Please take some time to read two of these useful resources below, if you're already a roleplaying expert, then there's no need to read the following beginner's guide, but be sure to read the rules.
Free Form Role Playing Guide for Beginners
Valin Oakthorn
Vagabond Extraordinaire
Yup. See ya there.
The Phantom
Consulting Criminal
Valin, if you would like to rewrite your application that would be more than welcome.
Valin Oakthorn
Vagabond Extraordinaire
Ri'Zasha-Dar
The Panther
General
- Name Ri'Zasha-Dar
- Alias The Panther, Zasha
- Gender Male
- Age 37
- Apparent Age 35
- Race Khajiit
- Birth Place Somewhere in Elseweyr
- Childhood Quality Meduim-Low
- Class Pickpocket
- Career Crime Lord
- Alignment Chaotic Neutral
- Height 5"11
- Weight 160
- Build Muscular-Lanky
- Laterality Left handed
- Sexuality Straight
- Marital Status Bachelor
- Family Relationships Brother (Very Close), Mother (Exchanges letters)
- Properties Honeyside (Now expanded to contain what used to be Helga's bunkhouse)
- Affiliations The Dockworkers
- Afflictions Skooma Addiction
- Religion None
- Habits None
- Hobbies Crime, drinking, Smoking Skooma with Fire Salts, Playing with his brother/cat
- Description Zasha has almost split personalities coupled with anger issues. Most of the time he is a happy man making jokes, having fun, smiling, but when something sets him off he becomes nasty, intimidating, spiteful, and cruel.
- Good Traits When happy he is fun, Comical, Loves to Paty, Loves those close to him.
- Bad Traits When mad his is Spiteful, Sarcastic, Dark, Cruel, Hateful, Abusive.
- Loves His brother, money.
- Likes Skooma, alcohol, Women, Thievery
- Dislikes "Do-gooders", Buzz kills, Stupidity
- Hates Losing Business, Pain
- Honor System None
- Creed Let no one stop you from achieving your goals, but always make time for fun.
- Disorders Split personalities, Short Temper/Anger issues
- Face High Cheekbones, Strong Jaw, Light Grey Fur with Black Stripes
- Body Somewhat lightweight but muscular.
- Tattoos None
- Scars A scratch mark across his nose
- Hair Color Black
- Hair Style Pushed back behind his ears, goes down to jaw.
- Facial Hair None
- Eye Color Green
- Eye Shape Sharp and thin
- Head A reddish leather hood that is kept up in public
- Torso A ragged black robe with gold trim, covered around chest by lower part of hood
- Arms Sleeves from robe. Metal gauntlets going from wrist almost to his elbow
- Hands Black gloves with a golden design of the dockworkers symbol (see EC)
- Waist A Reddish leather belt
- Legs Ragged black trousers with gold trim
- Feet None
- Pockets Skooma, fire salts, gold, pipe.
- Melee Weapons Claws
- Ranged Weapon None
- Stealth Skills Sneak, Pickpocket, Lockpick, Alchemy, Speech.
- Combat Skills Unarmed
- Magic Skills None
- Description Zasha is in now way a fighter, but rather a sneaker or a briber. If he absolutely must fight, he can use his claws but is not very skilled in their use. He prefers to sneak around enemies, or if he must engage he likes to pickpocket their weapon and force them to give him their valuables before he lets them leave.
- Childhood Ri'Zasha-Dar was born somewhere in elsewyr twenty seven years before skyrim's civil war. At the time he was merely Zasha. He grew up in a poor home with a loving mother and father. His mother and father did what they could to make ends meet but struggled to find work or food.
- Teenage Years When Zasha was twelve his parents gave birth to his younger brother Sha'dul. Sha'dul was an Alfiq, a small cat that could not speak, but could understand every word out of another's mouth. Zasha cared for his brother for a year, but as the cat grew, the more he needed. His brother began to die of hunger, and for the first time Zasha would steal. It began with bread, one piece every day for his brother. Then more, for himself, then his parents. Eventually, he began to steal gold and jewelry and sell it for gold. He would give the money to his parents and for once, ends began to meet.
By the age of seventeen Zasha was a practiced thief and began calling himself Zasha-Dar because of it. He would now take his fully grown brother along with him. The cat would distract the mark and Zasha-Dar would steal their coin purse.
One day a large nord man would charge past Zasha in the street. Zasha swept in and reached for his coin purse, only to have his hand grabbed and a hand meet his face. As the man tackled Zasha, the khajiit fought back, biting a chunk of the mans ear off. That was when it all truly began. Enraged, the nord began to beat Zasha over and over again. Sha'dul ran back to his house and brought his parents to the scene. Zasha could see nothing but the blood covering his eyes when it all stopped. He wiped his eyes to see a sword through the mans stomach, his dad had killed the man.
That was when the guards heard, and came running to the scene. They attacked his father, binding his hands. Zasha ran in and pushed one of the large guards, the guard scratched Zasha nose, leaving a scar he would have forever. Zasha stayed on the ground that night, his brother curled up next to him.
A year later Zasha had matured and become a man. His thievery skills were now coupled with a silver tongue. His hood was now thick reddish leather, allowing his brother to dig in his claws and ride on Zasha's shoulders. He had however, developed some issues. He had began smoking skooma, and had developed a terrible temper with split personalities when triggered. He called this personality the Panther, and he did whatever he could to prevent it from coming out.
His fathers execution date had come, and the two brothers, along with their mother watched as the fathers head rolled away from his body. Zasha and his brother left Elsweyr that day, and only saw their mother again in the letters that were written to each other. - Adulthood Years later Zasha-Dar and Sha'dul found themselves in skyrim, riften to be exact. This corrupted city reminded them of their days in Eslweyr. The made a living at the thieves guild, but wanted more. They saw what Maven Black-Briar had and they wanted it. Zasha thought to himself about what sells better than mead, and he realized it, skooma.
It began simple enough. He learned how to make the skooma easily enough. He sold it, but could only make so much with the couple of bottles he made now and then. He heard rumors of another skooma dealer in the warehouse and soon made his way there. He soon met Sarthis Idren, a dunmer who was selling skooma, Zasha soon met the supplier and it inspired Zasha to do the very same thing, but first he had to get rid of the competition. With a simple mention of them to the Jarl, the competition was eradicated.
From their on, his business grew, he hired people, his influence grew and things began to work out. Zasha-Dar soon changed his name to Ri'Zasha-Dar and adopted the title of crime lord.
It is now ten years after the civil war, Ri'Zasha-Dar and Sha'dul are doing well. They run a crime empire they call the dock workers do to the fact that much of the buisness is done just outside the walls, near the fishery, at the docks.
The Dockworkers
General
- Name The Dockworkers
- Crime Lord Ri'Zasha-Dar
- Base Hold The rift (riften)
- Symbol Two cats linking arms and legs
- Symbol Meaning It represents Zahsa and his brother Sha'dul's love and bond that inspired the found of the empire.
- Base of Operations Honeyside Inn
- Organization The Crime Lord is in complete rule and leadership. Then there are the Distillers at the top, they make the skooma. Then there is the Distributers who decide where the skooma goes. Then there are the Suppliers who pay and decide which seller gets skooma based on how much they sell. Then there are the sellers who sell skooma to clients.
- Means of Income Skooma. Room rentals. Wolf pit fights. Mead.
- Security Carriages moving from Distributer to Suppliers are guarded by either a well trained agent from the empire, or a bribed guard from riften. Suppliers then hand the skooma to their Sellers in person, often accompanied by their body guard.
- Alliances Thieves Guid, Black-Briar meadery, Riften nobility, Riften guards.
- Rules 1. No smoking or snorting on the job. 2. No drinking on the job. 3. Avoid contact with un-bribed guards. 4. Always obey the Crime Lord. 5. NEVER, under any circumstance EVER even think about taking Sha'duls gold necklace.
Valin Oakthorn
Vagabond Extraordinaire
Theres the CC. I'm open to suggestions, I will now work on the EC
Edit: Okay, finished up. I might add more detail to the EC tomorrow. I can also change the color if so desired.
The Phantom, I've read through your CC/EC again and noticed something. Each of your inns is expected to create 100 bottles of Skooma a month, at 200 Septims apiece. That works out at 20,000 per month each inn, 100,000 per month from your empire (not 1,000,000 like you said). 100,000 Septims a month is still an awful lot of turnover for five inns secretly selling Skooma, though! I think the price per bottle is way too high, especially considering that most of it is sold on to dealers who then have to make their own profit, and considering that the some of the people who would use Skooma would be jobless addicts and beggars.
Thoughts?
The Phantom
Consulting Criminal
To clarify, I accidentally put an extra 0 at the end, I did intend 100,000. Secondly, that's his entire revenue from his product in the month. With that money, he still has to pay his employees, highly trained mercenaries, carriage drivers, his ingredient suppliers, master alchemists, food/drink suppliers, bribe countless guards and officials, work on the mortgage of his inns and set up essential pension funds for his ex-employees. He roughly gets only one third to a half of that sum for himself. Though it seems an unfair price, he employs master alchemists to mix it with Sleeping Tree Sap (considerably higher quality and more addictive than normal skooma) and I accounted for the fact that these buyers may well be addicted themselves (thus their willingness to pay) and their consumers would most likely be incredibly addicted to the product. Plus, he's had roughly twenty years to establish a revenue and system. Though of course if you would like to suggest an alternative?
Yeah I see your point, and thanks for clarifying the extra zeros
Is Skyrim really the place for mortgages and pensions, though? Other than that, fair enough I suppose.
Ponder
International Man of Mystery
Would we be able to get a kind of scale you had in mind for this RP? I'm working in my EC, and I want to make sure I keep things scaled on the level you imagined. So, for example, would we scale by a factor of ten plus relative modifiers, where Whiterun's population of about seventy becomes about seven-hundred? Or we're you looking at a smaller or larger scale?
Part of the question really concerns your opinion on allowing for the nameless masses. Do we want an actual population, part of the environment and background, large enough to allow for anonymity and regular lives beyond our stories, or do we want a small world where everyone knows everyone else on a first name basis and is directly affected by everyone else's actions?
The Phantom
Consulting Criminal
AS88, Sid and Ponder, how long will it be until you get your CCs up?
Okay guys, here's my CC. I think I may have got a little carried away The EC will be up either later today or tomorrow. Let me know what you think so far.
BASIC
Name: Remy Gerard
Alias: Gorlas Acilius
Gender: Male
Race: Breton
Age: 39
Origin: Breton parents, nobility
Laterality: Left-handed, somewhat ambidextrous
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Marital Status: Single
Health: In generally fine health as a result of his plentiful upbringing, occasional sore right elbow
Religion: Loosely recognises the Eight Divines, but pays more mind to Julianos and Phynaster
Affiliations: A couple of noble families in High Rock and Markarth, some Forsworn chiefs, several inhabitants of the Warrens in Markarth, a Temple of Dibella priestess, Endon the Silversmith (and in turn his ties to the Thieves Guild), a student at Winterhold
Current Residence: A medium-large house in Markarth’s wealthier district, tucked away from most of the city and predominantly carved into the rock, noticeable only due to a fairly unimposing Dwemer door. It has a treasure room accessible only by pulling a hidden lever and a small, inconspicuous balcony which grants access to a treacherous path between the crags and into the Reach, which is hidden by thick shrubbery. Gorlas is convinced that it was created by the Dwemer as a secret escape, but thinks that none of the other nobles know it exists
Empire Name: Gorlas doesn’t care for names in his venture; he prefers to wield quiet influence from the shadows. His brother did once class his affiliations as “the wild and the penniless”
Empire Base: Gorlas’ current residence, known between Gorlas and his most trusted simply as “the house,” is where most of the decisions are made. When conducting business with others, he will use a secluded room in the Warrens guarded by the tunnels’ inhabitants, or a place of neutral ground elsewhere
APPEARANCE
Height: 5’9”
Weight: 150lbs
Hair: As in the picture, or slightly longer. Swept to the side
Eye Colour: Blue, slightly darker than his brother’s
Build: Slim, but in decent shape
Notable Features: Gorlas wears dark war-paint when dealing with the Forsworn as a means of
achieving a kind of common ground quickly, as does his brother. Asymmetrical top lip due to a fall as a child, creating a small scar above his lip
PERSONALITY
Positive Traits: Gorlas can appear friendly, genuine and trustworthy; he is also very shrewd and intelligent
Negative Traits: Gorlas can be devious, malicious, paranoid and manipulative
Likes: When his brother behaves, when a plan runs smoothly, secretive influence, giving with one hand and taking away with the other, alto wine, fine jewellery
Dislikes: When his brother acts like an idiot, storms, hitches in the plan, disloyalty, unpredictable people, armed Redguards
Fears: Being found by those few who may still seek him, being backed into a corner, not having a plan B
Aspirations: Amassing enough wealth from the situation in Markarth to be able to disappear into southern Cyrodiil
GEAR AND COMBAT
Weapons and Skills: Gorlas is a fairly proficient Spellsword, but out of practice. He wields a steel sabre (similar in appearance to the Blades Sword) and is able to cast the lightning bolt spell a few times. He is able to use basic illusions to confuse and disorientate his opponents for a short time, and can use basic healing spells to heal himself and others well enough to save a life, but not well enough to hide a scar. He and his brother are also quite adept at staying unseen and can often blend into a crowd, when the need arises. Finally, he has a small dwarven dagger tucked into his right boot at all times
Armour: Gorlas wears a cloak similar to that of the master robes set in-game, with a dark fur trim and a hood similar to the Blackguard hood. When foreseeing trouble, he wears a thin dark leather doublet under this, which has a thin chainmail stitched between the leather. He also wears a pair of dark leather gauntlets and boots when trouble is likely, again similar in colour and design to the Blackguard set. His brother wears similar attire, but generally with a shirt slightly open at the top, depending on the circumstances
Clothes: Under his cloak, he will normally wear a set of fine clothes, or something simpler depending on the weather. He generally dresses in an understated way so as not to draw any attention, but still look smart
Other: Gorlas and his brother both wear silver necklaces with a small sapphire hidden under whatever else they are wearing; all that is left of what they found in their father’s horde. They both hold enchantments that increase their healing rate. When on upstanding business, Gorlas and his brother switch their mysterious cloaks for more delicate finery in the form of linen cloaks and deer hide gloves
HISTORY
If, like most, Remy and Rodyck Gerard told you their story, they would have you believe they were a pair of Breton/Imperial Great War orphans, raised by their mother’s destitute Breton brother in Anvil until they were old enough to start travelling together, and that their names were Gorlas and Godryn Acilius. Their story would start with their mother leaving High Rock, marrying a Legion soldier and joining the fight herself, only for them both to be killed by the Thalmor. It would continue with odd tales of their poor uncle, living near the port of what was left of Anvil, his insistence that they learn some magic, and his insistence that they travel to High Rock. They then would see portions of Cyrodiil and Hammerfell and eventually travel to High Rock, not particularly like it for a dozen or so years, then move on to Skyrim. Their money was apparently earned through noble questing and aiding towns and the like. Gorlas’ interest in the Dwemer and the opportunity to influence the silver market drew their interest to Markarth, and that’s where they stayed. Their story has earned them the ears of Empire supporters and some of Markarth’s moderately wealthy. That’s the official story, the truth is somewhat different.
Remy and Rodyck Gerard are in fact the sons of a once-noble family of Northpoint. Their father had been an explorer and mercenary of some regard, his wife being a temple healer before her encounter with her love. The pair had the ears of much of Northpoint’s nobility, and their father’s good name and deeds allowed him to build a decent base of wealth and some political influence. They had a few of guards of their own to patrol their modest estate and protect the family, a steward to tend to the running of the house and its small compliment of workers, and a mystic to keep the family in good health, read signs for the future and teach the children in history and the magical arts.
Their early childhood was simple and privileged, with a mixed education of blade from the guards, spell and tome from the mystic, and knowledge of etiquette and politics from the steward and many guests and dinners. However, their mother had become withdrawn, and their father slowly turned from a noble adventurer to a paranoid politician, obsessed with the machinations of those around him and the potential for plots against him and his investments. Although it caused the family to lose their close connection, it seems he may have been right to be nervous.
The storm had set in particularly badly that night, the rocky outcroppings and rolling hills were illuminated time and again by the flashes of lightning out at sea, forking across the teenagers’ view from their window. They sat closer than normal, and jumped at the same time when they heard the screams of the steward from downstairs. They slowly stepped down to the landing above the manor’s front door to see their parents lying in pools of their own blood, next to two of the three guards and the recently severed head of the steward, surrounded by a small group of men in black robes. The mystic and the final guard whispered to the pair from partway up the stairs, telling them to go back to their room. The boys obliged, but retrieved their packs, filled them with clothes and food from their room and headed down a hall away from everyone, towards the library and its secret exit out of the property, as their father had told them to do should anything like this happen. They heard shots of lightning from the mystic and the battle cries of the guard echo down the hall, but not the short scuffle and the muffled coughing. The storm had closed in even further, and the candles flickered and died as the winds blew out a section of windows.
They made haste towards the way out, feeling their way down the darkened passage, until Rodyck remembered his father’s small vault, unsecured except for the security of secrecy. The pair retraced their steps for a few seconds, and found the stash where it had always been. They opened it to find more wealth than they imagined; purses full of diamonds and rubies, and jewellery set with sapphires and garnets. They split the most valuable items they could carry between each others’ packs, and covered their tracks. As they slipped through the entrance to the secret exit, the lightning struck the manor directly, shaking the old stones and setting the wood frame of the building alight. Remy and Rodyck scrambled down the passage and finally made it out the other side. They watched the house crumble and burn until the morning, hidden under cloaks in the crags, a rocky ledge sheltering them from the weather. Rodyck pointed out the men leaving the house in different directions, presumably feeling safe in the knowledge that the rest of the manor’s occupants would have either been crushed by the building’s collapse or burned alive.
There and then they knew that their lives never be the same. They would have to be vigilant, false and trusting of no-one except each other. The pair thought of a new life, one that made enough sense not to draw any questions, one almost untraceable and irrefutable. Remy became Gorlas and Rodyck became Godryn, and took the last name of one of the cooks who lived in the manor. They left the scene shrouded in a thick mist which had followed the storm, and took a carriage to the other side of High Rock, near the Hammerfell border, with the cost of travel and the driver’s silence paid for by a silver amethyst ring and started afresh. The pair were in their late teens, and were both becoming capable young men, yet they used their anonymity to their advantage. They would spend a few months at a time working for other noble families and notable mages and warriors, in return for teaching and roof over their heads. They learned more about the problems their father had faced, treacherous political rivalries and ages-old enemies had been no place for a man who had earned his Septims on his good deeds, but Gorlas enjoyed it. He saw the tactics and espionage like a game of chess, one piece moving to further the other, allowing one opportunity to be cornered and severed to be able to sweep in and remove an adversary. Gorlas’ knack for making shrewd investments and then... maximising their opportunities earned the brothers some powerful friends, and a few enemies to boot. The money they had raised from selling their father’s items was replaced by more, but the pair always bought small trinkets as a method of safe-keeping and condensing their wealth into small, bejewelled items.
The pair were in their mid-twenties when the fear they had felt during the storm returned. They were sat in a tavern on the outskirts of Camlorn, camped in a corner with a pair of sultry maidens. Godryn told Gorlas that he was leaving the tavern for a little while to “stroll” with his lady-friend. This unsettled Gorlas at the best of times, but he’d come to expect his younger brother’s disappearance sometimes, especially when whoring. Nevertheless, he bade him a casual bye and continued to survey the tavern. A matter of seconds passed, and Gorlas was concerned to see a pair of purposeful-looking men in long cloaks leave the tavern, a Breton and a Redguard. Something seemed familiar about the Breton.
Despite her resistance, he removed the young lady from his lap and trailed after the pair, making sure to stay unseen and in the shadows. The cloaked figures seemed to know where they were going, and stalked quickly down side streets and into a curved alleyway. There, he saw the men come upon Godryn.
“You’ll get your Septims girl, now get lost.”
The girl slipped between the men and darted down a gap between buildings, splashing through shadowed puddles. Gorlas looked on as his brother was backed further and further into the dead end, surrounded by old houses of wooden frames and stone, similar to their childhood home, only much smaller.
“It’s been a long time, boy. We thought you were all dead, although my lord has kept me busy these past few years to make sure.”
Godryn spat on the floor, and received a fist to the gut in return.
“We were told we could keep whatever valuables you had on you, so you can give them up now and we’ll slit your throat, or we’ll cut you to ribbons and search your corpse. Then, we’ll find your brother.”
It was then that the Redguard unsheathed his blade, and struck the man speaking across the shoulder, opening up a gash on his arm. The Breton shouted and drew his own blade, turned to the now-dazed looking Redguard, and opened up his neck with his axe. Gorlas shouted down the alleyway, making the Breton turn his head long enough for Godryn to pick up a stone block and smash it against the older Breton’s head, knocking him out and opening up a large wound. As he spun to the floor however, he caught Godryn’s face with his axe, ripping at his lip and causing a trickle of blood to poor down his chin and neck. They rushed back to the inn, collected their meagre belongings and ran into the night, with Gorlas’ lightly glowing hand pressed against his brother’s face.
Years had passed since that day, and the brothers were about to cross the Hammerfell border into Skyrim. They had a full pack of valuables and were satisfied that their efforts had been well rewarded. They had spent the last few years in southern High Rock and north Hammerfell, working as mercenaries and spies, as well as earning a decent amount of coin on the side with small short-term investments and minor racketeering. Gorlas and Godryn passed Falkreath but spent little time there; the town held nothing of any interest and no opportunity. They then headed north, to Markarth.
Markarth was a strikingly beautiful city, the precise architecture carved into the rock itself was unlike what they had seen elsewhere, but much of the rest was exactly what they were hoping for. The city was full of corruption, hidden conflict and agendas, and a selection of nobles looking to curry favour with the winner at every turn. It held just what they had been looking for - opportunity. Markarth was, and is, a place of vast wealth, despite the fact that most of it is hidden from the general populace. The brothers quickly made themselves known to several nobles buy buying their way into exclusive taverns, and donating to the Temple of Dibella. They took their time to make a few friends and attend the odd event at Understone Keep, making acquaintance with Calcelmo and Thorek, and listening to the tales and reports of activity from the ‘Forsworn.’
Gorlas and Godryn spent more time apart, with Gorlas attending to the noble side of their image while Godryn tried to uncover some information from the city’s more unsavoury types in the Warrens. Godryn’s Breton ancestry and willingness to share Septims earned him favour with many of those living as beggars and thieves, and the pair would discuss their findings at the house they had purchased. It seemed that the opportunity was silver, and the means was the Forsworn. The plan was hatched.
The pair put together a small band of mercenaries, and accepted a bounty on a Forsworn settlement hidden in the mountains. One or two of the mercenaries were apprehensive, but were promised that things would go smoothly. They eventually found the smoke from the Forsworn campfires, and Gorlas and Godryn turned to the men they had hired. They had studied them closely on the half-day trek, and had made their decision. Godryn tossed full coin purses to two of the three men, as Gorlas spoke.
“You two, go. This will cover double your normal fee. Go east; don’t be seen in Markarth again.”
They turned to the last remaining mercenary.
“Set up a small camp here. Do not kill anyone and do not be seen. If you do this well, there will be a place for you within our little operation.”
The brothers pulled out a small tin from their packs, and used the viscous liquid to paint their faces in a tribal style, like the Reachmen they had seen in the past. They looked at each other briefly, Godryn with an eager look on his face, and they trekked over the crest over the hill towards the camp...
***********************************"THE WILD AND THE PENNILESS"Head of Venture: Gorlas Acilius
Venture Name: Once called ‘The Wild and the Penniless” by Godryn, which has become a running joke between the pair that Gorlas dislikes
Base Hold: The Reach
Base of Operations: “The house” - a compact manor in Markarth, sculpted into the rock as with most properties, is where much of Gorlas' legitimate business takes place. Less presentable business is often conducted in the Warrens
Nature of Operations: Through risky negotiations and quiet influence, Gorlas has organised a tentative peace between most of the Reach’s Forsworn and the city of Markarth, in return for a substantial share in the city’s silver. The deal is more or less a protection racket, with a sidearm of actual investment to protect the cause he is otherwise racketeering. Gorlas pays a contribution to the hill tribesmen and Markarth Guard to keep the peace and ensure safe passage of the silver, while remaining largely anonymous save for his infamy within the Jarl’s court as a tricky bastard.
Gorlas has used his influence among the guards and the city’s remaining Reachmen to gain influence in the Warrens, and inconspicuously funds a few shady black market and underground operations including smuggling, narcotics and prize-fighting. He makes sure to have a large enough stake to reap benefits from most of the questionable yet profitable activities in the city, without being so involved as to be held accountable.
Security: Gorlas’ ample contributions to the Markarth Guard means that he is almost always secure in the city, despite the secret wishes of the Jarl. This extra funding is also used to protect silver transportation through the Reach, by means of well-armed Reach Guards and Forsworn tribes keeping a quiet eye on the shipments from the crags, eliminating wandering bandits and the like in return for a valuable amnesty outside the city limits and a financial reward.
Gorlas himself is almost always accompanied by his brother, Godryn, and the large Imperial mercenary they both liked when they searched out the Forsworn for the first time. Gorlas also has a select few trusted acquaintances and operatives, spread through the Reach and Skyrim. These include a trader in Whiterun, a student at Winterhold, and a few Forsworn leaders in the Reach.
The man is not without enemies, however. The Jarl of Markarth would prefer not having give up vast amounts of Markarth’s silver to a man funding the Forsworn, though feels he has little choice. Also, members of the Forsworn who hold true to their ways are fiercely against the truce and hold Gorlas completely responsible. The Forsworn’s plague of fear had started to wane slightly since the turn of the century, but some still regard any who agree to any terms with the Nords as traitors to the cause. Therefore, Gorlas prefers to stay out of the wilds of the Reach whenever possible, preferring to communicate through trusted couriers who come and go under the cover of darkness.
Gorlas’ Rules: Gorlas has a set of rules for himself and those around him, and a set of rules provided by his dealings. The rules he abides by are as follows. 1) Always maintain noble behaviour, 2) Conduct honest business during the day, anything illegal by night, 3) Gorlas and Godryn always stick together, and only talk about business in total privacy, 4) Only meet with couriers at night, 5) No personal interest in illicit activities (eg, betting on a prize-fight, directly funding theft or fences, etc).
The rules imposed as a result of his dealings include 1) Amnesty for the Forsworn beyond the city limits, 2) Improved guard presence with silver shipments, 3) Forsworn to aid protection silver transportation, if practicable, 4) Certain business is only conducted a certain distance from the outside when in the Warrens (ie, no illegal prize-fighting spilling out into the streets, etc, guards never enter the Warrens)
*Cough*Showoff*Cough*
Did you already pick a dialogue colour? If not, what is it? If you did, what is it? RP Mod has to represent! Haha
I'd like the green I used in my headings, please
The Phantom
Consulting Criminal
*Clears Throat* Forgetting something?
No, I said the rest is to come soon
It may be today, but I've just received some exciting news which will monopolise my concentration for a couple of hours.
Any comments about the CC before I crack on with the EC?
The Phantom
Consulting Criminal
Ah, sorry. Your CC is fine as it is.Share this page
