Brantilius

Elder scrolls: Oblivion

Kyzerin did not usually follow orders from guards, but considering the current circumstances he decided it was probably best he listened. He looked over the battle, trying to formulate a plan to get to the chapel unscathed, but when no opportunity presented itself he charged into the battle wildly. He saw someone citizens being cut down by a dremora, and he was about to rush to their aid when a flame atronach glided towards him.

An fireball sailed towards Kyzerin, directed at his head, and only narrowly missing, searing the end of his fur as it passed. He mustered up an ice spike, grunting with effort as he blasted it towards the atronach, but it gracefully moved to the side. It shot forwards, swiping at his head as it passed and knocking him to the ground. He felt blood run from his fresh cut and he growled angrily as he rose. This time he was ready, and as it shot past he ducked beneath it's arm and swung at it's head, connecting with it and bringing the atronach to a stop. He took a second to catch his breath, and a moment later the atronaches body exploded in a torrent of fire, sending Kyzerin a few meters back. His body ached and he cursed his stupidity, forgetting an atronach body explodes after death could have been fatal.

He struggled to his feet, pain flaring in his right leg, and starting limping around the chaos of the battle towards the chapel, which was relatively untouched by the fighting. In all the confusion no-one noticed the big khajiit sneaking around the destruction, and so he made it to the chapel doors without any more drama. He threw open the great doors leading into the chapel, and considered saving himself and locking the doors, but he had seen the other fighters in action, and doubted an old wooden door would keep them out. Besides, making some friends could help him in the long run, and so he instead he began to usher the scared townspeople in inside.

Elder scrolls: Oblivion

Kyzerin growled as a scamp's claws raked across his face, drawing blood. He swung his axe towards the scamp's head, but it leapt backwards, and his swing past harmlessly through the air. It let loose a satanic laugh as it leapt further back, throwing fireballs, most of which sailed past Kyzerin, but one connecting with his chest and propelling him backwards. He landed roughly on a cobblestone path that led to a home that was eclipsed by flame, and struggled to get to his feet as he attempted to quench the flame developing on his leather cuirass. When he finally extinguished the flame it was too late to get up, and the Scamp was upon his, claws slashing at his face. He raised an arm to shield himself while he swung his axe with the other, but the scamp knocked his arm away and his axe skid away into a nearby bush, that was somehow untouched by the flame. Kyzerin tossed a fireball into the scamp while it was distracted, and in one smooth motion he drew his dagger and plunged it into the beasts throat, killing it instantly.

Kyzerin retrieved his axe from the bush before he checked on his armour's condition, and he was disappointed to find a hole had been burnt into it. "Damn Scamp." he muttered angrily, kicking the scamp's body as he did so. With the hole in his armour Kyzerin felt exposed, and so he proceeded cautiously, avoiding enemies, and looking for somewhere he could hide. Looking out upon the screaming masses from the side streets, he found solace in the fact that he was not the only one resisting slaughter, waiting to die, and rather there were dead daedra littered among the deceased. He snapped out of his stupor as a noise rang out from behind him, and he turned to see a man being impaled by a dremora. It stared at Kyzerin, with a demonic smile, and pulled his midnight black blade from the carcass, licking the blood off the blade as the man collapse. Facing off against a dremora was hard enough, but doing it with a gaping hole in his cuirass seemed too arduous to Kyzerin. He looked around, and was terrified to see a scamp behind him, cutting of his escape. Then he had an idea, and, without wasting a second, dashed into a burning building.

Kyzerin heard the dremora's distorted laugh as he rushed up the stairs, the building collapsing around. When he reached the second floor he was horrified to see there were no windows, and he could hear the dremora walking slowly up the stairs behind him. His heart almost stopped when it reached the top of the stairs, and he turned to face it. It drew it's blade, which it had sheathed while it had followed him, and spoke hellishly "No one escapes, mortal!"
"Clearly you've never met me" Kyzerin replied with a smile, before throwing a fireball at the wall and leaping through the weakened wood onto the street below.

He hit the ground hard, smacking his head against stone, and in his dazed state he looked up at the hole he had created. He saw the dremora peering through it, and it looked as though he was going to follow Kyzerin through it, but after he few moments he disappeared from view. Kyzerin stood, steadying himself on the side of the house while he got his bearings. After a few seconds he took some uncertain steps, but he regained his balance and looked around for somewhere to go.

He wandered the streets for a few minutes, even more cautious than before, and looked out for somewhere to go. He decided to get a better view, and so he hoisted himself atop a small wooden stall, which allowed him to see a small part of Kvatch. He saw a few people who were fighting back, but he saw that a few of the fighters were in one area, congregating around a guard in the nicer part of town. He jumped off his vantage point and began to make his way across town, still taking care not to be seen by any daedra, and after fighting nothing but crowds he arrived where the guard was. As he arrived he saw two people next to the guard, with a third fighting through a crowd. "Why the hell are daedra on the street" Kyzerin asked.

Elder scrolls: Oblivion

Kyzerin could not help but smile as the wolf's blood sprayed across his face. He loved seeing the look of amazement on his clients face after he proved his ability in battle, as he showed he was not a stereotypical sneaky khajiit. His client on this occasion was an imperial, and a trader, who had hired Kyzerin to kill a pack of wolves who had invaded his camp site, that was located just outside. He had almost turned down the job, the dark cloud on the horizon made him uneasy, but he never could resist a good wolf massacre, and so it wasn't long before he was slicing through their flesh. As his blade punctured the finals wolfs lungs he turned to face his client, who had collected his gear while Kyzerin had fought, and who was already retreating into the tree's.

"Where do you think you're going." Kyzerin called out angrily, pulling his blade from the wolfs carcass as he spoke.

"I'm leaving now. I suggest you do the same, before you get hurt." The imperial said savagely, in his deep, gruff voice, drawing his own dagger as he spoke.

Kyzerin let a small laugh escape his lips at the imperials pitiful attempt to seem intimidating, and he prepared to cast fireball as he approached the imperial. The imperials will broke as Kyzerin drew close, and he began to back away whimpering, dropping his dagger as he did so. "I suggest you give me all your gold, before you get hurt." Kyzerin said barbarically, raising his sword above his head as he did so, and the imperial fell backwards.

"I I I don't have any gold." the man blubbered, tears streaming down his face as he attempted to crawl away backwards. The rage had been building up inside Kyzerin ever since he had met this disgusting excuse for an imperial, until finally it exploded out in one violent axe swing.

Kyzerin could not get the image of the imperials decapitation out of his mind as he walked up the steep path that led to Kvatch, but the thought did not sadden him, and instead it brought a smile to his face. It was the first time since his return to being a mercenary that he had killed his own client, and he had to admit, he enjoyed it more than he let on. It was annoying that this particular client wasn't lying when he said he didn't have any gold, but he had decided it had been too long since he had committed a good old fashioned murder, and the decapitation was a nice touch, so he didn't really care. He shook all thoughts of murder from his head as a he became aware that the dark cloud was nearing the city, and he increased his pace.

"Why are you in a rush?" a guard stationed at the gate asked suspiciously.

Kyzerin caught his breath, cursing himself for not slowing enough, and also for not cleaning the blood off his axe, and he considered making a run for it, but decided to try talk his way out of it first. "I'm hoping to get a room before the storm hits." Kyzerin said without stopping, entering the city without waiting for a reply.

He considered stopping at The Crazy Horseman, but he didn't feel like beating off the muggers that lived in this part of town, and so he began walking towards the home in which he was renting a room. He had just reached the door when he first heard the screams, starting in the area by the gate, but spreading fast. He sprinted towards the nearest scream, which was coming from a woman he saw at the end of the street. He raced towards them, but just as he arrived a pitch black blade stabbed into the woman's chest, and as the dremora withdrew his blade blood spurted from the wound.

The dremora turned to face Kyzerin, "Are you prepared for your death?" it asked in it's cold demonic voice as it stepped towards him, blade held out in front of it. Kyzerin instinctively stepped back as it moved, and a terrible grin spread across it's face "I smell weakness." It said as it lunged towards Kyzerin, which Kyzerin barely managed to block.Kyzerin stepped back, taking a second to think, before stepping forward again, and swinging towards the dremora's head. It blocked the swing easily, but left it's chest open for Kyzerin to fling his flames into, causing the dremora to stumble backwards.

"I will feast on your heart." It yelled as it righted itself, before it charged Kyzerin, swinging towards his feet. He jumped backwards to dodge it's swing, stepping forwards before it could raise it's blade and burying his axe into it's head. It fell to the ground, shrieking in it's terrifying voice, and struggling to get back up. It attempted to speak as blood poured from it mouth, and it murmured a threat as it died. Kyzerin looked towards the woman, who lay, unmoving, blood still leaking from her wound. He offered a quick prayer to Arkay before he began to walked away from the bodies, eager to get more daedric blood on his axe.

Elder scrolls: Oblivion

Name: Kyzerin

Race: Khajiit

Gender: Male

Age: 28

Appearance:

Personality: Kyzerin almost always does whatever is in his best interests, putting his own needs ahead of the needs of others. He is willing to do anything to make money, but he hides his shallowness well, and does his best to appear friendly, to avoid making enemies. He has a violent temper, lashing out at people who anger him, and he is not above killing over petty arguments. He is not particularly intelligent, and he thinks that most problems can be solved with his fists, which often gets him into fights. He is very arrogant, and he believes the world owes him a fortune, and for that reason he does as little work as possible, unless the work includes violence.

Class: Shadow

Major Skills: Speechcraft, Blade, Destruction

Minor Skills: Light Armour, Marksman, Security, Sneak

Equipment:
- Leather Armour
- Steel War Axe
- 5 lockpicks
- Bed roll
- 50 gold
- Small hunting knife

Spellbook: Flames, Fireball, Fire Rune, Lightning bolt, Whirlwind cloak, Frostbite, Ice spike

Job: Mercenary

Brief History: Kyzerin parents were wealthy merchants in Cyrodiil, who decided that they wanted him to follow in their footsteps. This appealed to him for a long time, until one day he wandered from the camp site, and encountered a wolf. He killed it easily, and realised he had an aptitude for killing in the process, and also found he enjoyed killing. His parents were disgusted when he told them he didn't want to be a caravan trader, and that he wanted to be a mercenary, and they forbade him from being one. Because of this he decided to run away, and soon he found himself in Kvatch, living on the streets at only 16 years of age. He originally tried to make an honest living, but his parents wealth had made him accustomed to a higher standard of life, and he soon resorted to violence to make himself more money. He spent a few years committing petty crimes, mostly stealing coin purses, before he tried anything big. He attempted to break into a the home of one of the wealthiest people in Kvatch, and his lack of training led to his capture and imprisonment, but not before he killed two guards. The 6 years he spent in prison hardened him, and made him a much more violent person. He decided to stay in the imperial city after being released from prison on his 26th birthday, and he joined a group of pirates who were docked in the imperial city waterfront. He spent a year at sea before leaving the crew and returning to Kvatch, where he became a mercenary again, but he quickly learnt that most people were against hiring an ex-convict, and so he became a thief as well as a mercenary.

Fallout: New Vegas - The Slayers

Derrick Williams

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Specialty/Archetype: He specialises in the use of one handed guns such as pistols and sub-machine guns, and also has extensive knowledge of electronics.

Appearance/Gear: Derrick stands at just below 6 foot tall, and is quite thin, but deceptively strong. He has an old sheriff's duster that is riddled with bullet
holes, and stained with the blood of countless creatures. The old sheriff's badge is still pinned on the right of it, still shiny thanks to his constant cleaning of it. He keeps his sleeves rolled up to make the searing heat more bearable, but this makes the marks of light chem usage visible to all. He also wears an old desperado cowboy hat to block out the sun, along with sunglasses that he also keeps shiny. He keeps a small knife hidden in his boots, which are old and worn down. He has a 9mm sub-machine gun attached to the left side of his belt, which he tends to only use in serious situations, and a .357 magnum revolver that he keeps on his right, which he uses in most scenarios. He wears a belt beneath his duster which his ammo pouches are attached to, along with pouches for all his other things. He also keeps a bandana attached to his belt which he uses to cover his face in a sand storm.

Personality: Derrick is very sociable. Whenever he meets someone new he will do his utmost to become friends with them, and will not give up until they are friends. He will do almost anything for anyone he considers a friend, regardless of whether he has known them for a day or a year, and he will gladly put his own life on the line to save a friends. Despite his social nature he is not very forgiving, and should a friend not help him in a time of need he will consider them an enemy, and, depending on the circumstances, this can be anything from not talking to a person to violence. He is reckless in his actions, preferring to do something than sit around planning, which often lands him in bad situations. Although Derrick is not addicted to chems he is not above using them occasionally, and for a few hours after he does he is dependant on the rush, and so after the effects die down he becomes very dark.

History: Derrick lived a very simple life as a child. He and his parents lived on the Strip, in the vault hotel. Most days he walked the up and down the Strip selling food his mother made, and most nights he tinkered with scrap that had been thrown out from Michael Angelo's workshop. He spent his free days practising shooting with his BB gun across the road at the NCR embassy, where a friend of his father worked. When he turned 16 he started working at Michael Angelo's workshop, where his skill with electronics developed until he became a master, and found himself capable of turning scrap electronics into a robot. Everything was going well until the Tops sign broke, and he was told to fix it. The job itself was easy, it just required some rewiring, and he had almost fixed it within ten minutes, but after leaving the sign unattended to retrieve some more wire he returned to find someone had ripped out all the wiring while he was gone. After informing the Chairmen that it would take a few days they were furious, blaming him for the problems with the sign, and for that reason kicking him out of the Strip. At that point Derrick decided to live in freeside, getting a room at the atomic wrangler. It wasn't long before he was attacked by locals, and, after beating them off with a shard of glass from the street, he decided he needed a gun. He used the remainder of his money to buy a 9mm pistol and some ammo from Mick, and then he set out to found some work. He worked for a while as a bodyguard, but after getting muscled out of business by the Kings he became the debt collector for the Atomic Wrangler. He wasn't paid well, but he got a free room and food, so he stayed there until his 27th birthday, when he was fired after being found passed out in his room with chems around him. He then decided to be a prospector, trading his pistol for a sub-machine gun and searching for pre-war technology. He hasn't found anything like he hoped for, but he still gets plenty of loot from the raiders that inhabit the places he searches, and he finds plenty of electronic scraps he can use.

Other: Derrick mostly just scavenges, but will take most work he is offered, and still does jobs for the Atomic Wrangler occasionally.

World so Cold

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A Whisper in the Dark (Original Idea)

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Under Oath - A Unique Survival RP

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Wardens of Oblivion

Name: Kyzerin

Race: Khajiit

Age: 28

Appearance:

Personality: Kyzerin almost always does whatever is in his best interests, putting his own needs ahead of the needs of others. He is willing to do anything to make money, but he hides his shallowness well, and does his best to appear friendly, to avoid making enemies. He has a violent temper, lashing out at people who anger him, and he is not above killing over petty arguments. He is not particularly intelligent, and he thinks that most problems can be solved with his fists, which often gets him into fights. He is very arrogant, and he believes the world owes him a fortune, and for that reason he does as little work as possible, unless the work includes violence.

Equipment:
- Leather Armour
- Steel War Axe
- 5 lockpicks

Class: Warrior

Occupation: Mercenary

Brief History: Kyzerin parents were wealthy merchants in Cyrodiil, who decided that they wanted him to follow in their footsteps. This appealed to him for a long time, until one day he wandered from the camp site, and encountered a wolf. He killed it easily, and realised he had an aptitude for killing in the process, and also found he enjoyed killing. His parents were disgusted when he told them he didn't want to be a caravan trader, and that he wanted to be a mercenary, and they forbade him from being one. Because of this he decided to run away, and soon he found himself in Kvatch, living on the streets at only 16 years of age. He originally tried to make an honest living, but his parents wealth had made him accustomed to a higher standard of life, and he soon resorted to violence to make himself more money. He spent a few years committing petty crimes, mostly stealing coin purses, before he tried anything big. He attempted to break into a the home of one of the wealthiest people in Kvatch, and his lack of training led to his capture and imprisonment, but not before he killed two guards. The 8 years he spent in prison hardened him, and made him a much more violent person. And so, on his 28th birthday he finally left prison, and became a mercenary once again.

Birth sign: The Warrior

Warden of Oblivion

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