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New Idea- Nation + Gods Rp

Hmm... That thoroughly hurts my ideas. I tend to shoot for more fantastic factions, so I may have to pull out entirely.

New Idea- Nation + Gods Rp

The Narrator said
If you would do that, which is a actually nice idea, I would say he should be part of the nation. So if you want that than you wont play only one character but the nation with the demigod as their leader/high priest/general/champion etc.

Sounds about right? What is the setting like? Human focused or more broadly fantastic?

My plan would be for a dragon-god. Themed around fire, destruction, and the ferocity of nature.

New Idea- Nation + Gods Rp

How do you feel about a more physical god, or even say a demigod, that directly supports and leads a nation/faction?

Character Crossover Crisis City

To add my two cents: I agree that this situation would be ideal for killing off Whitney. For both dramatic and circumstantial reasons. I'd figure that all of her belongings would just fizzle out of existence with her death, leaving no dilemma regarding her Pokémon.

Edit: Whoops, missed your post, GS. It's in your hands, of course.

Skyrim: Dragonsbane

"Survival?" Vincent mused, almost purring the word as he rubbed his chin. "By the look of you, I should think that the life of a thief is not terribly hard on you." Again, he approached her and stroked her jawline with the back of his hand. "Such a fair, young face, without the hardness given by the touch of cold or hunger."

The smell of fear on this girl was only increasing. She seemed more apprehensive of him than she had just a moment before. Perhaps she had realized what he was? To have caught on so quickly, she was surely quite worldly. Vincent smiled one of his cruel smiles again. He decided that this girl was interesting, and that he wanted to talk to her a bit more.

He seated himself in the wooden chair by the table in the room, crossing his legs luxuriously. The amulet he had bern holding a moment before was tossed on the table carelessly as he returned his gaze to the girl.

"You may sit if you like," He said, gesturing to the bed near his own seat. "On this particular occasion, what drove you to steal from me? Did I appear to be an easy target? Or a lucrative one? I'm terribly curious, so please do tell me..." He paused suddenly, and a strange, pitying look came into his eyes. "Why, I don't yet know your name, my dear. My name is Vincent, won't you tell me yours?"

Skyrim: Dragonsbane

Turning back to face girl, Vincent was met with her attempt at talking her way out of her current predicament. He could tell by her practiced smile that she had attempted this before (and succeeded, judging by her mostly unmarred face). Perhaps she was a charming girl; Vincent's tastes were so warped that he had difficulty in objective observations of that matter. He was more focused on the fear that was shining through her bravado. Small things, like the slight twitch to her sweetly smiling lips, or the scent of her panic, like a subtle perfume. He was quite pleased by her reaction, she was very amusing indeed.

As Vincent approached her, he returned her smile. His, however, was made far more sinister by his glinting eyes and the fangs revealed by his curled lips. "A greater mistake than you realize." He said in a cruel tone of voice. He rushed toward her with a sudden burst of speed, pressing her against the wall and grabbing her face roughly by her chin. Turning her face from side to side, he inspected her, even tugging down her bottom lip to look at her teeth.

He released her, though kept his burning eyes locked firmly on the girl as he paced the room like a predator. "Far too well fed and equipped to be a common urchin. Exquisitely skilled, as well. Tell me, do you steal for excitement? A thrill? Vanity and pleasure?" He produced a jeweled, golden amulet from one of his sleeves, and dangled it temptingly before her. "Or do you chase the lure of wealth and treasure?"

Character Crossover Crisis City

Sorin once again began to lambast the blond man, "It no less than astounds me..." He left off, sensing a significant presence quickly approaching.

He silently tightened his focus, feeling out this mass of mana that was rushing toward them. It was Red and Black, both signatures equally distinct. Sickness and fury, hunger and death. Sorin immediately began to draw on the mana of the area, gripping his sword just as the dragon struck.

Sorin took no time to gawk at the strange beast, as he rushed about to evade the toxic attacks of the creature. However, the corruption of the environment had an added bonus for Sorin: the area became closer aligned to Black mana, making his spells easier to form and cast. Continuing to weave between attacks, he summoned a handful of vampires to harry the dragon, same tactic as before. However, with the more bountiful mana, he was able to expend extra effort in imbuing these vampires with the power of flight.

Seeing the blond man behin to lay into the dragon with a volley of shots from his weapon, Sorin laughed and called to him, "Have you come to value your life, now?"

Skyrim: Dragonsbane

Vincent was idly aware of the young lady stalking up behind him. It was really no fault of her own that he detected her when she was trying to avoid his notice; she was a perfectly decent sneak. It just so happened that the few signs she could not hide- the sound of her beating heart, or the smell of her living flesh -were clear as day to him. Even her hand slipping into his pocket was subtly and artfully done. Vincent decided that he could perhaps extract a little entertainment from this girl before he made his climb.

With startling speed his free hand shot down and seized the girl's wrist with strength that stopped just short of crushing it. He didn't bother to cover her mouth to stifle a scream; a trained thief knew better than to attract attention to themselves when they had been caught. Setting down his wine, he reached over to yank the girl's hood down, sending her hair cascading down her back. Brushing the locks behind her ear, he leaned into her at an almost intimate distance.

He coolly whispered to her, "If you wish to keep your hand, come with me, and do not make a scene."

With that, he stood up, still clutching her wrist, and made his way to the back of the inn. From there he led into the small room that he had rented for his daily rest.

Skyrim: Dragonsbane

The long shadow of the Throat of the World was cast over the small hamlet of Ivarstead as the sun sank behind the huge mountain. Even so, the orange shade of twilight filled the, the last remnants of the day. The Vilemyr Inn already bad its fair share of patrons, all shuffling in for the promise of a warm fire, a hot meal and a cool ale. However, one man stood in the inn sat alone, patiently awaiting night to settle in.

Vincent Storm-Born sat just outside the crowd gathering around the fire, a comfortable distance from the sweltering blaze. His fingers drummed on his leg and he slowly sipped at a bottle of cheap wine, his burning eyes watching the slow trickle of travelers entering the tavern. In this part of the world, the traveler crowd mostly consisted of pilgrims journeying to High Hrothgar, but the tonight the crowd was a tpuch more diverse.

Would-be dragonslayers filed in, drawn by the promise of honor and glory offered by the meeting offered by the Greybeards. Vincent supposed he couldn't judge them too harshly, given that he was among their number, but even as dark a person as himself had more altruistic motives. He figured that these adventurers were settling down for the night so that the Seven-Thousand Steps could be climbed in the warmth and safety of daylight, but Vincent had different plans.

As soon as the sun had fully retreated from the sky, he would make the climb alone, and shelter himself from the following dawn in the cool depths of High Hrothgar. For now, he waited. For one as old as him, a few hours was nothing. He had all of the time in the world, for as much time that the world had left.

Skyrim: Dragonsbane

Name: Vincent Storm-Born

Age: Approximately 400

Race: Breton/Nord (Vampire)

Class: Vampire (Focus Skills:
1HD, ALT, CON, DES, ILU, ALC, LTA, SNK)

Appearance: Tall for a Breton, but short for a Nord, Vincent is regardless a striking figure. Chiseled features, pale, nigh-translucent skin, long, snowy hair, and a fiery, piercing gaze make him a rather remarkable person to behold.

His usual attire consists of a long, leather coat wirn over a light breastplate, well-crafted trousers and fine hiking boots. Both his coat and trousers are inlaid with small sections of intricately-patterned armor, encrusted with rubies, matching his breastplate.

Personality: Vincent's centuries of life have given him an easy confidence, though he is often detached from the perspective of mortals. He spends his time following his whims and fancies, even if they prove to be cruel or deadly. Despite his paranoid and sadistic tendencies, Vincent does feel a sense of responsibility toward Tamriel as a whole, and often takes action to support the greater good.

Bio: The son of a Breton noblewoman and a Nord ship-magnate, Vincent spent much of his youth flitting between his mother's villa in Daggerfall and his father's manor in Windhelm. Due to his parents' obligations, he was mostly raised by his maternal grandfather, Edgar Rivoire. A talented mage and esteemed gentleman, Edgar schooled Vincent in the principles of magic, alchemy and courtesy from a young age. However, Edgar bore a dark secret; for years he had been experimenting with forbidden magic, seeking a means of granting himself immortality. When Vincent was but a young man, Edgar's research came to fruition. In a ritual involving dragon's blood and the petrified remains of an ancient vampire, he turned himself into a true-blooded vampire. Edgar celebrated his success by turning the first of his new lineage: his beloved grandson Vincent.

Though he lived for a time as the dark prince of House Rivoire, Vincent grew bored of the mindless slaughter and debauchery of his fellow vampires. Vincent exiled himself and spent many years traversing Tamriel. Over time he came to grips with the advantages his vampires brought him, and sought to make the most of his immortality. He traveled far and wide, learning and experiencing as much as he could. Wherever he found himself, there was always another adventure just around the corner.

Throughout the end of the Third Era and the beginning of the Fourth, Vincent has deeply involved himself in the machinations of Tamriel, dedicating himself to its preservation, fighting off the dragons most recently. After all, it's damn difficult to have a good time if there's nowhere to explore.

Equipment: Vincent's primary weapon is Blackfang, an enchanted ebony longsword of Breton design; the blade is of such ill omen that it does not reflect light. Believed to be empowered by the soul of a cannibalistic necromancer, Blackfang steals the life of its victims with every strike.

While it allegedly steals the soul of each of his victims, Vincent's armor is only simple leather and steel, though of luxurious quality. His coat has numerous hidden compartments and pockets, and a hood that can be deployed in daylight.

Otherwise, Vincent carries an assortment of daggers, empty vials and alchemical ingredients. He also carries a host of potions, poisons, small bits of enchanted jewelry, scrolls that interest him, and various other trivialities that he has collected in his travels.

Other: With the advent of the dragons, the dragon cults of ancient Skyrim have caught Vincent's interest lately. Rumor has it that he is trying to teach himself the Thu'um.