Frizan is a Contest Moderator.
canaryrose
tadcfnaf
Dion
parelaxis
SolScratch
Shadow Dragon
MaeB
Geraldo
SonnetNSunbeam
Captain UniWell, here he is finally! Orintur is up and ready to purge as needed.
Hammer Bros ain't got shit on this High Elf.
Hammer Bros ain't got shit on this High Elf.
Character Name: Orintur Graywatch
Age: 57, approximate
Race: Altmer
Sex: Male
Birthsign: The Tower
Specialisation: Combat
Class: Paladin
Skills:
Appearance: For the most part, Orintur is your typical yellow-skinned Altmer, standing at about a head higher than the average height of most other races, with pointed ears and narrow eyes, irises matching his skin. What makes him a bit different, though, is that Orintur is noticeably far more muscular than the slim and dainty everyday High Elf, thanks to his extensive training with large two-handed weapons and heavy armors. Orintur keeps his platinum hair short; he hates how bothersome long hair can be and would rather be able to wake up and not need to rearrange anything.
Of course it goes without saying that, as a Paladin, Orintur sees his fair share of combat. As such, he has a good number of scars to document his adventures. The most noticeable scar is a large burn mark on his lower abdomen, given to Orintur by a flame atronach summoned by an accursed warlock that had been terrorizing nearby villages. The Altmer's armor intercepted the fireball, but that didn't stop all the damage, for his armor had reached searing levels of heat where it was hit. Unable to take off his cuirass in the middle of battle, Orintur fought for several more minutes with it on, and with every movement he was scorched further. By the time the mage was dead, not even the most powerful of Restoration magics could have healed his wound completely. Far less epic scars line Orintur's body, mainly across his arms, some acquired during his training, others given to him by bandits and other foul creatures that lucked out and bypassed his armor.
Personality: Being a High Elf, one of another race would be inclined to groan at Orintur's approach, thanks to his race's less than tolerant view of anyone not their own. One would most certainly not expect, though, for the young(for a High Elf, anyway) Paladin to greet them with ecstatic glee; indeed, Orintur is as nice as nice gets...well, as long as you aren't a heretic. Following the dictations of his patron god, Stendarr, Orintur has unending love for the citizens of Tamriel, and is always happy to meet new people and offer his services to those in need. This love stops, though, for those that would bring harm to anyone under his protection, that being every person in Tamriel not openly against the Nine Divines. These villains are deemed heretics, and Orintur believes it is his mission as bestowed upon him by Mighty Stendarr to bring them to justice, be it at the end of a gavel...or his hammer. Bandits, conjurers of foul daedra, rogue wizards and necromancers, and thieves to a lesser extent all fall under Orintur's definition of "heretic", and such people would do well to keep their hobbies a secret from the ever-wary Paladin if they want to get in his good graces.
The good citizens of Tamriel and all other adherents of the Nine Divines, however, can feel free to approach Orintur with all manner of problems; whatever they be, most can probably be solved with his hammer. If a hammer is not enough, then the Altmer can turn to his magics of Restoration and Destruction, or even his limited knowledge of alchemy and smithing, for he is nothing if not versatile. Orintur takes great pride in assisting those around him, and would give his life if it ever came to such a thing, so strong is his faith in the teachings of the Divines. Unfortunately however, Orintur's zealotry has made some of even the most pious of church-goers fearful of him, worried that they may unknowingly engage in some innocuous activity that nevertheless draws the paladin's ire and would put them at the end of a warhammer. Many city guards are also not quite fans of Orintur, viewing his methods as too extreme and uncompromising, and disruptive to the general peace. If he is not barred from entering a city outright, the Altmer is under the strict watch of a detachment of guards who stand at a distance, waiting for him to step out of line.
Backstory:
Spells:
Restoration
Greater Convalescence(J), Heal Major Wounds(A), Convalescence(A), Heal Minor Wounds(N)
Destruction
Shock(A), Corrode Armor(A), Snowball(N)
Inventory:
Storage
1 x Large Leather Backpack
1 x Leather harness w/ three pouches
Alchemy Gear
1 x Mortar/Pestle
3 x Empty vials
Sufficient ingredients to make two potions of light healing, and one potion of light magicka recovery
1 x Healing/Stamina/Magicka potions
Tools/Arms and Armor/Clothing
1 x Green cotton shirt/black trousers/leather boots
1 x Set of fluted steel plate armor with gauntlets, greaves, and a bucket helmet w/ raisable face plate
1 x Steel warhammer
1 x Iron dagger, fastened to harness across cuirass
1 x Armourer's hammer and whetstone
1 x Small handaxe for chopping up bits of wood for fires, fastened to his backpack
Food and Provisions
1 x Medium sized waterskin
2 x Cuts of cooked venison
1 x Red Apple
3 x Half-loafs of bread
1 x Small leather tent and bedroll
Age: 57, approximate
Race: Altmer
Sex: Male
Birthsign: The Tower
Specialisation: Combat
Class: Paladin
Skills:
- Expert: Two-Handed Blunt
- Journeyman: Heavy Armor, Restoration
- Apprentice: Destruction, Athletics, Hand to Hand
- Novice: Speechcraft, One-Handed Blade, One-Handed Blunt, Foraging
- Crafting: Novice Smithing and Alchemy
Appearance: For the most part, Orintur is your typical yellow-skinned Altmer, standing at about a head higher than the average height of most other races, with pointed ears and narrow eyes, irises matching his skin. What makes him a bit different, though, is that Orintur is noticeably far more muscular than the slim and dainty everyday High Elf, thanks to his extensive training with large two-handed weapons and heavy armors. Orintur keeps his platinum hair short; he hates how bothersome long hair can be and would rather be able to wake up and not need to rearrange anything.
Of course it goes without saying that, as a Paladin, Orintur sees his fair share of combat. As such, he has a good number of scars to document his adventures. The most noticeable scar is a large burn mark on his lower abdomen, given to Orintur by a flame atronach summoned by an accursed warlock that had been terrorizing nearby villages. The Altmer's armor intercepted the fireball, but that didn't stop all the damage, for his armor had reached searing levels of heat where it was hit. Unable to take off his cuirass in the middle of battle, Orintur fought for several more minutes with it on, and with every movement he was scorched further. By the time the mage was dead, not even the most powerful of Restoration magics could have healed his wound completely. Far less epic scars line Orintur's body, mainly across his arms, some acquired during his training, others given to him by bandits and other foul creatures that lucked out and bypassed his armor.
Personality: Being a High Elf, one of another race would be inclined to groan at Orintur's approach, thanks to his race's less than tolerant view of anyone not their own. One would most certainly not expect, though, for the young(for a High Elf, anyway) Paladin to greet them with ecstatic glee; indeed, Orintur is as nice as nice gets...well, as long as you aren't a heretic. Following the dictations of his patron god, Stendarr, Orintur has unending love for the citizens of Tamriel, and is always happy to meet new people and offer his services to those in need. This love stops, though, for those that would bring harm to anyone under his protection, that being every person in Tamriel not openly against the Nine Divines. These villains are deemed heretics, and Orintur believes it is his mission as bestowed upon him by Mighty Stendarr to bring them to justice, be it at the end of a gavel...or his hammer. Bandits, conjurers of foul daedra, rogue wizards and necromancers, and thieves to a lesser extent all fall under Orintur's definition of "heretic", and such people would do well to keep their hobbies a secret from the ever-wary Paladin if they want to get in his good graces.
The good citizens of Tamriel and all other adherents of the Nine Divines, however, can feel free to approach Orintur with all manner of problems; whatever they be, most can probably be solved with his hammer. If a hammer is not enough, then the Altmer can turn to his magics of Restoration and Destruction, or even his limited knowledge of alchemy and smithing, for he is nothing if not versatile. Orintur takes great pride in assisting those around him, and would give his life if it ever came to such a thing, so strong is his faith in the teachings of the Divines. Unfortunately however, Orintur's zealotry has made some of even the most pious of church-goers fearful of him, worried that they may unknowingly engage in some innocuous activity that nevertheless draws the paladin's ire and would put them at the end of a warhammer. Many city guards are also not quite fans of Orintur, viewing his methods as too extreme and uncompromising, and disruptive to the general peace. If he is not barred from entering a city outright, the Altmer is under the strict watch of a detachment of guards who stand at a distance, waiting for him to step out of line.
Backstory:
Orintur has no knowledge of his homeland, where exactly he was born, when he was born, or even who birthed him. From what he could gather from his adoptive family at the Chapel of Stendarr in Chorrol, a young woman brought him to the chapel as a baby. The woman, who was in a heavy concealing cloak and scarf, said his name was Orintur Graywatch, and to the Primate's great confusion and frustration, she would not reveal any more details, no matter how much she was pressed. The only other words the woman spoke was a request to "please raise him to be kind". In the second the Primate turned his head to look at Orintur, the woman had vanished. Letters of inquiry to other chapels and contacts turned up fruitless; the woman could not be found nor was there anyone under the name of Graywatch in Cyrodiil. With no one else able or willing to take the infant elf in, the Primate decided to make the chapel his new home, and raise him under the guidance of the Commands of the Divines with the help of the other priests.
Orintur, under the wise tutelage of the Primate and priests of Stendarr, came to learn and hold dearly the teachings of the Nine Divines. Memorizing the Ten Commands and taking to heart the wisdom of revered saints, the Divines became the center of his life, and Orintur would spend many hours of the day praying and performing rites, taking short breaks to eat simple foods, help around the city, and sleep until the next morning where he would renew his routine. No doubt Orintur looked peculiar praying at the altars, being a High Elf and what all that entailed to those that didn't know anything of him, but everything just seemed to fit for the Altmer. He felt Zenithar fill his bones with the strength to live day after day, Mara fill his heart with love, and Julianos fill his mind with wisdom. The Divine that Orintur felt closest to, of little surprise, being raised in his chapel, was Stendarr. He felt compelled to help and protect the weak, and was overjoyed whenever he was able to do volunteer work to assist the needy. At twenty-five, fifteen years after beginning his general training as a devotee of the Divines, Orintur spoke to the Primate and requested he begin training to serve Stendarr. The Primate, naturally, was overjoyed, and asked what he would like to specialize in. Orintur thought long and hard on this, and eventually came to a conclusion: he would be a paladin of Stendarr. It just sounded right to him, marching across Cyrodiil, striking down evildoers and offering aid to those whose paths he crossed; it felt like something was calling him to take on the mantle of Paladin. To this day, Orintur attributes his choice to the guiding hand of Stendarr, who believed the Altmer would be best suited for that path above all others.
Orintur's training officially began with the arrival of a full-fledged paladin, whom the Primate called to the Chapel to teach the High Elf every other month; Orintur's lessons would alternate between martial and spiritual training, with the Primate instructing him in all the rites of Stendarr. Romana Marius was a behemoth of a woman, almost as tall as Orintur himself and with plenty of muscle to match. Her red hair was short and messy, with a face as plain as a foundation stone and a stare that could shatter one; Romana certainly had no time set aside for looking nice. With how mean she could look on the outside, however, Romana was surprisingly amicable. You had to listen for her smile, not look for it, as one of the priests familiar with her once said. She was glad that Orintur chose the path of the paladin, as according to her their numbers were running quite low, and made Orintur aware of their kind's high mortality rate. She was greatly pleased to hear her student's confidence and determination, and began his first lessons. They spent several weeks trying to find the aspiring warrior a weapon of choice, and went through many with little success. Sword and shield, spears, axes, none quite clicked with Orintur...until he came to the mighty warhammer. He was practically in love with the raw power of such a weapon, and asked to be trained in its use.
The first two years with Romana was specifically spent learning how to wear heavy armor and properly use a warhammer, along with a bit of hand-to-hand training. Proper footing, getting down the right amount of momentum, using distance to one's advantage, all the basics. When she believed Orintur could use the weapon confidently, Romana began engaging in full-on spars with her student. While obviously not on equal footing with his mentor, Orintur could still land his fair share of strikes. One day, Romana hit Orintur with an extremely heavy strike, bruising him terribly. What he initially believed was an accident was actually Romana transitioning into her next lessons: the art of Restoration, and how to heal oneself and others. She began by teaching Orintur a basic healing spell to ease his bruising, which he took it upon himself to learn quickly, as the wound panged quite unpleasantly...and then she made him do it again after the next spar when she fractured his index finger. Romana made it clear that she did not injure him for her own amusement, but rather to encourage him to learn how to heal himself faster and give him more experience with Restoration magics. Still, Orintur didn't quite appreciate the beatings even with that assurance, but the more potent spells she taught him after a few months softened the literal blows a bit. The next four years were a repeat of that routine of sparring and then healing, and going out to help those brought into the safety of the city after being attacked by bandits, wolves, and whatever else lurked the roads and forests. Romana had Orintur simply watch at first of course, no telling what an inexperienced student would get wrong, but eventually he was allowed to operate on his first patient. Using the most simple spell available, the Altmer successfully closed the gashes of an unfortunate victim of a mugging. He liked those lessons much more. Two more years were spent learning the art of Destruction; Romana admitted that while, yes, Destruction was quite an unsavory school, a paladin needs several methods of attacking, as one may not be able to get close enough to bash away with steel.
Another two years passed, all the time with Romana spent perfecting his technique after having learned all of the basics of combat and magic. When the time had come for Orintur's trial of initiation, he could manuever himself smoothly even in heavy iron, could close and mend the wounds of himself and others in under twenty seconds, and his prowess with warhammers was something to be feared. Romana, the Primate, and all others who had witnessed his training were confident in his ability...but were the Divines? Such was the purpose of his trial, to determine his worthiness in the eyes of Stendarr. Orintur's mission: Head to a nearby cave, once the lair of some goblins, and destroy the warlock hiding away inside. The warlock had been attacking travellers on the road to Chorrol frequently, and was the cause of all the recent burn victims carried into the city. He was to bring back their staff as proof of his success.
The moment Orintur stepped into the vile lair of the mage, the scent of death hit him in the face with nauseating force. In the second chamber was the cause: Six glassy-eyed corpses, reanimated by the darkest of magicks. They were the unfortunate travellers that did not make it the rest of the way to Chorrol, their flesh singed with intense magical flames. To profane the dead in such a way was heresy in the eyes of Arkay, and so Orintur dispatched them swiftly. The slow, shambling zombies were no match for Orintur and his warhammer, and the Altmer had little issue releasing them from their servitude. Deeper in the cave, however, was a sight truly horrible: piled up in a corner was a mountain of corpses, most much, much older than the poor souls in the previous chamber. Next to them were bloody carts; the blasphemer had been practicing necromancy far before moving near Chorrol. Filled with righteous fury, Orintur was going to make sure the bastard would not be able to relocate this time. At the very end of the cave was a large open room with torches, and sconces filled with bones. In the middle was a stone altar with a multitude of body parts arranged in a vaguely humanoid shape...with the sickening mage ogling at their handiwork with childish wonderment. The clanking of armor alerted the aging warlock, but she was none too impressed with her adversary, wondering aloud if the following of Stendarr was so weak that they had to send a boy after her.
Summoning forth a fire atronach, the warlock looked on amusedly as her minion went to work on Orintur. The atronach was swifter than he anticipated, and he missed his first swing. Now at a safe distance, the daedroth flung a ball of fire at Orintur, hitting the middle of his cuirass. Though not hit directly, the heated part of his armor would occasionally brush against his body, searing him painfully whenever he turned. Deciding his foe was too good at gaining distance, the Altmer switched to blasting the atronach with orbs of ice. Only when the summon was in a weakened state did Orintur charge forth and let his hammer crash down on his foe's skull. Turning away from the fizzling remains of the flaming abomination, the warlock and the paladin-to-be locked eyes, both glaring at the other. Lifting up her staff, the warlock let loose a fireball, crashing behind Orintur as he jumped to the side to avoid another unfortunate burn wound; the one he had already was getting on his nerves as it was. Retaliating with a lightning bolt, the furious High Elf advanced quickly, his attack sending the warlock's next fireball askew, far away from her charging foe. Before they were able to send out another spell, Orintur knocked the mage to the ground with a hard shoulder-bash, who followed up with a quick stomp to their arm, breaking it and forcing them to let go of their staff. The blasphemer's predictable last-ditch promises of unlimited power went unheard, and were ultimately silenced by Orintur's warhammer cracking them across the skull, snapping her neck at a disgusting angle.
After treating his burn as best as he could, Orintur grabbed the accursed staff and prayed to Arkay and Stendarr, praying that the souls of the dead so disrespectfully mutilated in the cave would be tended to, and that the warlock would hopefully be granted pardon by Stendarr the Merciful. It was dark by the time Orintur returned to the chapel, and he was greeted by the relieved cheering of its inhabitants. Handing the staff to the Primate, it was announced that Orintur would be made a paladin of Stendarr on the morn. Never before had rest felt so deserved to the anxious Altmer.
After waking and praying at the altars, Orintur met the Primate at the center of the chapel. He was surpised at how many were in attendance: there was Romana and the other priests of the chapel, which wasn't too shocking, but behind them in the pews were several citizens of Chorrol and even a few guards. Kneeling low, the Primate proudly began the induction speech, placing upon Orintur the blessings of Stendarr and the other Divines, charging him with the faithful service of the good people of Tamriel, to defend and protect the weak and innocent, and to forever hold the ideals of generosity and kindness to others in his heart. Accepting these gifts and responsibilities, Orintur rose and took in his hands the steel warhammer and donned the steel armor forged by Chorrol's blacksmith, ordered by Romana and the priests specially for the Altmer's coronation. After the ceremony, Romana told Orintur that the reason for the large amount of attendees was that a paladin of Stendarr hadn't been inducted in many years, and it was an exciting event for the townsfolk. He vowed to not disappoint the people of Chorrol, or of anywhere else in Tamriel. To that end, he geared up, said his great thanks to the kind priests that raised him, to and the Primate Romana for their teachings, and set out across Cyrodiil.
The following years weren't exactly full of epic adventures and quests to destroy evil artifacts. In fact, Orintur's new life as a paladin was fairly mundane, and that suited him just fine. Helping people with problems, big or small, filled Orintur with purpose, and his spirits were raised with every word of thanks and gratitude. He took very little in terms of rewards, accepting little more than pieces of fruit or refills for his waterskin. As a result of this, and his eventual reputation as a reliable but incredibly extreme man of the faith barring him entry from most cities by the guards, Orintur has had to learn how to find his own food in the form of berries and edible plants along with the uncommon pieces of meat from the game he is able to reliably hunt, and has also taken it upon himself to learn the basics of using small swords and handaxes, just in case he ever finds himself without his hammer or enough magicka for spells. The intricacies of smithing and alchemy are far beyond the Altmer, but he knows enough to keep his armor and weapons in decent shape, and can brew basic potions for healing, fatigue, and magicka recovery.
The news of the Emperor's death saddened Orintur greatly, and upon hearing of the event he gave himself to the Kvatch arena games, hoping to honor the late Uriel Septim with victory in combat. He planned to later pray and mourn in the Chapel of Akatosh, and unbeknownst to him them, pray and mourn he would, but not just for the dead Emperor, but for all people of Tamriel.
Then the time for prayer would end, and thus would begin the purging of heretics, blashphemers, and daedric abominations. The Princes themselves shall fear the name Orintur Graywatch!
Orintur, under the wise tutelage of the Primate and priests of Stendarr, came to learn and hold dearly the teachings of the Nine Divines. Memorizing the Ten Commands and taking to heart the wisdom of revered saints, the Divines became the center of his life, and Orintur would spend many hours of the day praying and performing rites, taking short breaks to eat simple foods, help around the city, and sleep until the next morning where he would renew his routine. No doubt Orintur looked peculiar praying at the altars, being a High Elf and what all that entailed to those that didn't know anything of him, but everything just seemed to fit for the Altmer. He felt Zenithar fill his bones with the strength to live day after day, Mara fill his heart with love, and Julianos fill his mind with wisdom. The Divine that Orintur felt closest to, of little surprise, being raised in his chapel, was Stendarr. He felt compelled to help and protect the weak, and was overjoyed whenever he was able to do volunteer work to assist the needy. At twenty-five, fifteen years after beginning his general training as a devotee of the Divines, Orintur spoke to the Primate and requested he begin training to serve Stendarr. The Primate, naturally, was overjoyed, and asked what he would like to specialize in. Orintur thought long and hard on this, and eventually came to a conclusion: he would be a paladin of Stendarr. It just sounded right to him, marching across Cyrodiil, striking down evildoers and offering aid to those whose paths he crossed; it felt like something was calling him to take on the mantle of Paladin. To this day, Orintur attributes his choice to the guiding hand of Stendarr, who believed the Altmer would be best suited for that path above all others.
Orintur's training officially began with the arrival of a full-fledged paladin, whom the Primate called to the Chapel to teach the High Elf every other month; Orintur's lessons would alternate between martial and spiritual training, with the Primate instructing him in all the rites of Stendarr. Romana Marius was a behemoth of a woman, almost as tall as Orintur himself and with plenty of muscle to match. Her red hair was short and messy, with a face as plain as a foundation stone and a stare that could shatter one; Romana certainly had no time set aside for looking nice. With how mean she could look on the outside, however, Romana was surprisingly amicable. You had to listen for her smile, not look for it, as one of the priests familiar with her once said. She was glad that Orintur chose the path of the paladin, as according to her their numbers were running quite low, and made Orintur aware of their kind's high mortality rate. She was greatly pleased to hear her student's confidence and determination, and began his first lessons. They spent several weeks trying to find the aspiring warrior a weapon of choice, and went through many with little success. Sword and shield, spears, axes, none quite clicked with Orintur...until he came to the mighty warhammer. He was practically in love with the raw power of such a weapon, and asked to be trained in its use.
The first two years with Romana was specifically spent learning how to wear heavy armor and properly use a warhammer, along with a bit of hand-to-hand training. Proper footing, getting down the right amount of momentum, using distance to one's advantage, all the basics. When she believed Orintur could use the weapon confidently, Romana began engaging in full-on spars with her student. While obviously not on equal footing with his mentor, Orintur could still land his fair share of strikes. One day, Romana hit Orintur with an extremely heavy strike, bruising him terribly. What he initially believed was an accident was actually Romana transitioning into her next lessons: the art of Restoration, and how to heal oneself and others. She began by teaching Orintur a basic healing spell to ease his bruising, which he took it upon himself to learn quickly, as the wound panged quite unpleasantly...and then she made him do it again after the next spar when she fractured his index finger. Romana made it clear that she did not injure him for her own amusement, but rather to encourage him to learn how to heal himself faster and give him more experience with Restoration magics. Still, Orintur didn't quite appreciate the beatings even with that assurance, but the more potent spells she taught him after a few months softened the literal blows a bit. The next four years were a repeat of that routine of sparring and then healing, and going out to help those brought into the safety of the city after being attacked by bandits, wolves, and whatever else lurked the roads and forests. Romana had Orintur simply watch at first of course, no telling what an inexperienced student would get wrong, but eventually he was allowed to operate on his first patient. Using the most simple spell available, the Altmer successfully closed the gashes of an unfortunate victim of a mugging. He liked those lessons much more. Two more years were spent learning the art of Destruction; Romana admitted that while, yes, Destruction was quite an unsavory school, a paladin needs several methods of attacking, as one may not be able to get close enough to bash away with steel.
Another two years passed, all the time with Romana spent perfecting his technique after having learned all of the basics of combat and magic. When the time had come for Orintur's trial of initiation, he could manuever himself smoothly even in heavy iron, could close and mend the wounds of himself and others in under twenty seconds, and his prowess with warhammers was something to be feared. Romana, the Primate, and all others who had witnessed his training were confident in his ability...but were the Divines? Such was the purpose of his trial, to determine his worthiness in the eyes of Stendarr. Orintur's mission: Head to a nearby cave, once the lair of some goblins, and destroy the warlock hiding away inside. The warlock had been attacking travellers on the road to Chorrol frequently, and was the cause of all the recent burn victims carried into the city. He was to bring back their staff as proof of his success.
The moment Orintur stepped into the vile lair of the mage, the scent of death hit him in the face with nauseating force. In the second chamber was the cause: Six glassy-eyed corpses, reanimated by the darkest of magicks. They were the unfortunate travellers that did not make it the rest of the way to Chorrol, their flesh singed with intense magical flames. To profane the dead in such a way was heresy in the eyes of Arkay, and so Orintur dispatched them swiftly. The slow, shambling zombies were no match for Orintur and his warhammer, and the Altmer had little issue releasing them from their servitude. Deeper in the cave, however, was a sight truly horrible: piled up in a corner was a mountain of corpses, most much, much older than the poor souls in the previous chamber. Next to them were bloody carts; the blasphemer had been practicing necromancy far before moving near Chorrol. Filled with righteous fury, Orintur was going to make sure the bastard would not be able to relocate this time. At the very end of the cave was a large open room with torches, and sconces filled with bones. In the middle was a stone altar with a multitude of body parts arranged in a vaguely humanoid shape...with the sickening mage ogling at their handiwork with childish wonderment. The clanking of armor alerted the aging warlock, but she was none too impressed with her adversary, wondering aloud if the following of Stendarr was so weak that they had to send a boy after her.
Summoning forth a fire atronach, the warlock looked on amusedly as her minion went to work on Orintur. The atronach was swifter than he anticipated, and he missed his first swing. Now at a safe distance, the daedroth flung a ball of fire at Orintur, hitting the middle of his cuirass. Though not hit directly, the heated part of his armor would occasionally brush against his body, searing him painfully whenever he turned. Deciding his foe was too good at gaining distance, the Altmer switched to blasting the atronach with orbs of ice. Only when the summon was in a weakened state did Orintur charge forth and let his hammer crash down on his foe's skull. Turning away from the fizzling remains of the flaming abomination, the warlock and the paladin-to-be locked eyes, both glaring at the other. Lifting up her staff, the warlock let loose a fireball, crashing behind Orintur as he jumped to the side to avoid another unfortunate burn wound; the one he had already was getting on his nerves as it was. Retaliating with a lightning bolt, the furious High Elf advanced quickly, his attack sending the warlock's next fireball askew, far away from her charging foe. Before they were able to send out another spell, Orintur knocked the mage to the ground with a hard shoulder-bash, who followed up with a quick stomp to their arm, breaking it and forcing them to let go of their staff. The blasphemer's predictable last-ditch promises of unlimited power went unheard, and were ultimately silenced by Orintur's warhammer cracking them across the skull, snapping her neck at a disgusting angle.
After treating his burn as best as he could, Orintur grabbed the accursed staff and prayed to Arkay and Stendarr, praying that the souls of the dead so disrespectfully mutilated in the cave would be tended to, and that the warlock would hopefully be granted pardon by Stendarr the Merciful. It was dark by the time Orintur returned to the chapel, and he was greeted by the relieved cheering of its inhabitants. Handing the staff to the Primate, it was announced that Orintur would be made a paladin of Stendarr on the morn. Never before had rest felt so deserved to the anxious Altmer.
After waking and praying at the altars, Orintur met the Primate at the center of the chapel. He was surpised at how many were in attendance: there was Romana and the other priests of the chapel, which wasn't too shocking, but behind them in the pews were several citizens of Chorrol and even a few guards. Kneeling low, the Primate proudly began the induction speech, placing upon Orintur the blessings of Stendarr and the other Divines, charging him with the faithful service of the good people of Tamriel, to defend and protect the weak and innocent, and to forever hold the ideals of generosity and kindness to others in his heart. Accepting these gifts and responsibilities, Orintur rose and took in his hands the steel warhammer and donned the steel armor forged by Chorrol's blacksmith, ordered by Romana and the priests specially for the Altmer's coronation. After the ceremony, Romana told Orintur that the reason for the large amount of attendees was that a paladin of Stendarr hadn't been inducted in many years, and it was an exciting event for the townsfolk. He vowed to not disappoint the people of Chorrol, or of anywhere else in Tamriel. To that end, he geared up, said his great thanks to the kind priests that raised him, to and the Primate Romana for their teachings, and set out across Cyrodiil.
The following years weren't exactly full of epic adventures and quests to destroy evil artifacts. In fact, Orintur's new life as a paladin was fairly mundane, and that suited him just fine. Helping people with problems, big or small, filled Orintur with purpose, and his spirits were raised with every word of thanks and gratitude. He took very little in terms of rewards, accepting little more than pieces of fruit or refills for his waterskin. As a result of this, and his eventual reputation as a reliable but incredibly extreme man of the faith barring him entry from most cities by the guards, Orintur has had to learn how to find his own food in the form of berries and edible plants along with the uncommon pieces of meat from the game he is able to reliably hunt, and has also taken it upon himself to learn the basics of using small swords and handaxes, just in case he ever finds himself without his hammer or enough magicka for spells. The intricacies of smithing and alchemy are far beyond the Altmer, but he knows enough to keep his armor and weapons in decent shape, and can brew basic potions for healing, fatigue, and magicka recovery.
The news of the Emperor's death saddened Orintur greatly, and upon hearing of the event he gave himself to the Kvatch arena games, hoping to honor the late Uriel Septim with victory in combat. He planned to later pray and mourn in the Chapel of Akatosh, and unbeknownst to him them, pray and mourn he would, but not just for the dead Emperor, but for all people of Tamriel.
Then the time for prayer would end, and thus would begin the purging of heretics, blashphemers, and daedric abominations. The Princes themselves shall fear the name Orintur Graywatch!
Spells:
Restoration
Greater Convalescence(J), Heal Major Wounds(A), Convalescence(A), Heal Minor Wounds(N)
Destruction
Shock(A), Corrode Armor(A), Snowball(N)
Inventory:
Storage
1 x Large Leather Backpack
1 x Leather harness w/ three pouches
Alchemy Gear
1 x Mortar/Pestle
3 x Empty vials
Sufficient ingredients to make two potions of light healing, and one potion of light magicka recovery
1 x Healing/Stamina/Magicka potions
Tools/Arms and Armor/Clothing
1 x Green cotton shirt/black trousers/leather boots
1 x Set of fluted steel plate armor with gauntlets, greaves, and a bucket helmet w/ raisable face plate
1 x Steel warhammer
1 x Iron dagger, fastened to harness across cuirass
1 x Armourer's hammer and whetstone
1 x Small handaxe for chopping up bits of wood for fires, fastened to his backpack
Food and Provisions
1 x Medium sized waterskin
2 x Cuts of cooked venison
1 x Red Apple
3 x Half-loafs of bread
1 x Small leather tent and bedroll
