Wolfie
Active Member
setting
The civil war continues in Skyrim. Legion soldiers and Stormcloaks alike harass Whiterun, the only province that remains neutral, pleading for their causes to be heard; both sides have turned this ancient soil black with blood.
Word of dragons has spread. It is said that Helgen was utterly demolished by one such beast – as large as a mansion, with scales as black and rough as Daedric armor and bloodred, bloodthirsty eyes.
Stories have begun to circulate about the Dragonborn – an ancient Nordic hero who is the only one who can permanently kill a dragon, and has mythical powers. Despite hopes, it appears that the legend of the Dragonborn was only just that – a legend. No such hero has revealed his or herself since Tiber Septim's time, and it seems that Skyrim is on it's own.
There are many mercenaries here, and brawls have erupted on numerous occasions Adventurers seem to be even more common than the wildlife. Vast amounts of travelers have entered Skyrim, most of them fleeing from Morrowind.
ooc
I don't know what to expect from this thread, but I do have my hopes. It would be pleasing to read full in-character posts, in third person with acceptable grammar etiquette. It's good to work out plot and character development with fellow members. I also hope to see people actively contributing to the thread. I promise that I will not disappoint those who decide to join this roleplay.
Please note that this thread will contain 18+ content – namely, nakedness, alcohol usage, drug usage and mentions of sexual activity. Despite this, however, please fade-out any in-character sexual activity. Thank you!
ic
They milled about like mudcrabs in water, their babble thinning as the sun fell behind Dragonsreach. Citizens began to drift off and head home; merchants locked away their wares beneath their hired stalls. Mercenaries and travelling adventurers headed outside of the Bannered Mare for a quick breath. During such tense times, nobody was alone.
Idoma Petirus sat on the roof of Belethor's shop in the market square, her heels digging into the aged wood to keep from falling. A book, Provinces of Skyrim, lay split open in her hands, rested on a bent knee. She stared at it, eyes flickering between the lines. Pressed within the pages was a letter, otherwise hidden from sight; the paper was white with youth, many straight lines running across it's face from numerous foldings.
Bounty
By order of Balgruuf:
To all able bodied men and women of Whiterun. The bandits located in Halted Stream Camp have been poaching on provincial land. This has caused issues with the local giants. A reward will be offered to anyone who kills their leader.
Proventus Avenicci
She closed the book and carefully set it inside her knapsack, a calm, almost bored expression plastered upon her face. Later, she told herself. In the morning, or tonight. She'd have to survey the nightly activity, in any case.
Idoma looked down at the market square – the stalls circled around a residential well. The air felt temperate and dry; it was the 14th of Midyear, and the weather had been uncharacteristically hot, but not at all humid. It's either this, or return to Falkreath, Idoma reminded herself, edging over to the side of the roof, where the tall fence post made it easier to descend from this height.
The civil war continues in Skyrim. Legion soldiers and Stormcloaks alike harass Whiterun, the only province that remains neutral, pleading for their causes to be heard; both sides have turned this ancient soil black with blood.
Word of dragons has spread. It is said that Helgen was utterly demolished by one such beast – as large as a mansion, with scales as black and rough as Daedric armor and bloodred, bloodthirsty eyes.
Stories have begun to circulate about the Dragonborn – an ancient Nordic hero who is the only one who can permanently kill a dragon, and has mythical powers. Despite hopes, it appears that the legend of the Dragonborn was only just that – a legend. No such hero has revealed his or herself since Tiber Septim's time, and it seems that Skyrim is on it's own.
There are many mercenaries here, and brawls have erupted on numerous occasions Adventurers seem to be even more common than the wildlife. Vast amounts of travelers have entered Skyrim, most of them fleeing from Morrowind.
ooc
I don't know what to expect from this thread, but I do have my hopes. It would be pleasing to read full in-character posts, in third person with acceptable grammar etiquette. It's good to work out plot and character development with fellow members. I also hope to see people actively contributing to the thread. I promise that I will not disappoint those who decide to join this roleplay.
Please note that this thread will contain 18+ content – namely, nakedness, alcohol usage, drug usage and mentions of sexual activity. Despite this, however, please fade-out any in-character sexual activity. Thank you!
ic
They milled about like mudcrabs in water, their babble thinning as the sun fell behind Dragonsreach. Citizens began to drift off and head home; merchants locked away their wares beneath their hired stalls. Mercenaries and travelling adventurers headed outside of the Bannered Mare for a quick breath. During such tense times, nobody was alone.
Idoma Petirus sat on the roof of Belethor's shop in the market square, her heels digging into the aged wood to keep from falling. A book, Provinces of Skyrim, lay split open in her hands, rested on a bent knee. She stared at it, eyes flickering between the lines. Pressed within the pages was a letter, otherwise hidden from sight; the paper was white with youth, many straight lines running across it's face from numerous foldings.
Bounty
By order of Balgruuf:
To all able bodied men and women of Whiterun. The bandits located in Halted Stream Camp have been poaching on provincial land. This has caused issues with the local giants. A reward will be offered to anyone who kills their leader.
Proventus Avenicci
She closed the book and carefully set it inside her knapsack, a calm, almost bored expression plastered upon her face. Later, she told herself. In the morning, or tonight. She'd have to survey the nightly activity, in any case.
Idoma looked down at the market square – the stalls circled around a residential well. The air felt temperate and dry; it was the 14th of Midyear, and the weather had been uncharacteristically hot, but not at all humid. It's either this, or return to Falkreath, Idoma reminded herself, edging over to the side of the roof, where the tall fence post made it easier to descend from this height.