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    1. HHShetland 11 yrs ago

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10 yrs ago
Current Please note: I feel like I'm not cut out for RPing, so I've chosen to leave. Will log off now.

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@hoppiholla391

Once again, I'd like to apologise if it seems like I'm pestering you, but from the looks of things, I'm guessing you've been unable to read PMs (if that's the case, then it wouldn't seem like I'm pestering you at all :V); perhaps something to do with viewing the site on mobile? Anyway, I just thought that posting something out in the forum itself might get better results. I hope you don't mind.
@HHShetland been a while for you too now, check in please.


Ah, I was wondering when you'd come a-knockin'.

Sad to say, I think I'm going to have to drop out of this RP as well. Ironically enough, this RP got me playing Skyrim again, and that's not exactly the sort of game that allows for multitasking. Plus, I found myself writing TES Fanfiction, too. And for some reason, I'm not 'connecting' with Tennant as a character anymore. And on top of all that, I'm supposed to be working, damnit. :V

(Hell, at least this time I have an actual excuse for dropping out besides 'I got bored'. Now I know why that psychologist diagnosed me with signs of ADHD. :V)

So yeah. As for what to do with Tennant, I figured it would make the most sense if he decided all the mercenaries were all too brutish and overconfident for his liking and quit to go it alone again. But if you have better plans, I suppose you could keep him around.

There, can I not get schafted now? ...Please? :V
That's one intro post. I tried something different this time; I went light on the character introspection and tried to let actions speak for themselves, as they say. If I royally screwed up did not use this technique effectively, please tell me.
Before the Night Raid
------------------------------


Tennant clenched his fists tight in front of his face. Squinting his eyes and slowing his breathing, he drowned out all the signs of his immediate outdoor surroundings. The howling wind became a mere breeze, the freezing cold became but a frosty tinge, the bright orange sunset turned into a pale haze.

The fighter assumed a Boxing stance, keeping his guard up to such a degree that it covered his already-impaired cycloptic vision, but he nonetheless knew what direction his fists had to take.

He began to count down in his head. 1... 2...

He suddenly burst forth from his guard and struck, with a jab, the overstuffed dust sack he had tied to the rock. The one on the upper left. The impact caused it to effectively explode, releasing a cloud of dust into his vision and forcing him to retreat behind his guard once again.

3... 4... 5...

He burst forth once again, this time ducking to avoid the bulk of the dust cloud, and throwing three punches in quick succession; mid-left, bottom-left, mid-bottom. With each fierce punch, he exploded three more dust sacks, throwing an even bigger cloud of dust onto his body, but he once again shielded his eyes.

6... 7... 8...

Tennant hopped backwards; while this was happening, one of the flour sacks could theoretically have contained a deadly Elsweyri insect, ready to launch itself at him and sink its poisonous fangs into his neck. That would not do. Peering downwards, he saw what looked like a small chunk of Earth. Wasting no time, he turned slightly to his right and stomped it flat. That was the insect that could have killed him. But it had not. His awareness had disallowed it.

9... 10... 11... 12...

But wait! There could be more insects hidden inside another sack. In fact, Tennant was sure one of them... the one slap-bang in the middle... had something solid inside it when he was wrapping them around the rock. It might have been just another bit of Earth, but no chances were to be taken. The large fighter hopped to his right with surprising agility, mirroring his previous position, before once again exposing his eyes to the dust for a mere moment. He ducked and lunged forward with a mighty Cross, aimed slightly upwards and slightly to the left, so as to burst the middle sack in such a way that any deadly insects contained within would fly harmlessly over his head.

"Ugh...ach!"

Though Tennant had already burst the middle sack and covered his eye once more, he practically froze in place once that hacking and coughing noise coming from behind registered in his mind. Somebody had managed to enter his general vicinity while he was preoccupied.. but the question was, who?

Holding up one forearm to shield his eye and keeping his the fist of his other arm reeled back in preparation for a potential defence, he swivelled around on the spot. The sight that greeted him was a rather young Nord, possibly a teenager, dressed in ragged clothing and waving his arms about to clear the clouds of dust Tennant had created with his training.

Tennant relaxed his posture, standing straight and resting his hands on his suspenders. He recognised this cub. He was one of the new fighters at the mercenary camp. One of those that was obviously way in over their head; though from what he understood, the Redguard in charge of the place knew this perfectly well.

"Agh..." The boy finally cleared the dust from his vision, and looked Tennant in the eye... as best he could, anyway. Being an extremely tall, one-eyed man will have that effect.

"Are you Tennant, uh... Ibnaz?" The boy said, nervously.

"Ibnazh." Tennant corrected him with lightning speed. It was a common mistake, a mistake that is corrected so often that it eventually turns from a chore into an automatic response. Tennant barely recognised he'd said it. The frown on his face was meant to convey annoyance at having his exercise interrupted, instead.

"S-sorry." The boy apologised after a pause. He then tried to stand straight in an admirable but transparent attempt to seem authoritative. "Ahem, the Head Scout had picked some names out of a hat and- well, not literally a hat, y'know, just... randomly selected some names for patrol duty. Well, not all of the names, he left out the names of people who'd done it already, and quite a lot of people have done it already, so it's not really much of a, uh, surprise that-"

"Get to the point, cub." Tennant cut in, figuratively and literally, since he also chose that moment to start walking past him. He already knew where this was going.

"Aye. Sorry." The boy apologised again, before seemingly noticing that Tennant was walking away. The boy power-walked to get back in front of him. "You've been picked for a nighttime patrol. Uh... now, I think. You should go to the main gate."

"...I see." Tennant replied, pinching the slightly sweaty bridge of his nose, as if to fire up his senses again; though one could be forgiven for thinking he was taken aback. He angled his view downwards, noticing that the boy was practically quaking in his shoes.

"Tell me, cub, do you really want to be here right now?" He asked, beginning to walk again, untying the now-dusty tunic previously tied around his waist as he did so.

"Um... well, not really..." The boy walked with him again, this time apparently making a conscious effort to walk with 'seriousness' and avoid shaking too much. "...But it's something that's gotta be done, yea? Everyone has to fight these days. I-if you don't fight, you die, simple as that."

"Maybe." Tennant stopped upon reaching an old tree stump where he had placed a cup of lukewarm water, crouching momentarily to pick it up. "...But when you tremble like that, it gives me the sad impression you're going to get yourself killed horribly because you felt the need to prove your manliness by going off to war ten years too early. Think about that."

With that bit of advice, Tennant downed the water in one go, enabling some of it to dribble out of his mouth and on to his chest. Carelessly tossing it towards the boy, he proceeded to slide his thick grey tunic over his large torso.

The boy managed to catch the empty cup. "But I-" He managed to half-heartedly stammer out, but it was ignored. Tennant simply lumbered his way towards the main gate with purpose, taking slow but long strides, and his expression blank.

He may have been confident that he was one of the few people who knew what he was doing, but really, whether he faced victory or defeat, both outcomes would force improvement out of him. All he had to do was take it all in.
Name: Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku
Race: Zizz (Human-sized Bipedal Lizards, leaning more towards Lizard than Human; think Dinolfos, as opposed to Argonian )
Gender: Male
Age: 303
Occupation: Hunter, Tracker and occasional Mercenary.

Personality/Interests: Rimau has a rather mercenary approach to life, who desires nothing more than an easygoing job that pays well; preferably one that makes use of his prime talent of 'shooting things'. He's actually quite friendly and chatty if you can get him going, though he has a rather dark sense of humour; he's the sort of fellow who finds flailing burn victims kind of funny, especially if he caused it. Though he can easily come across as cranky and senile (he has a habit of rambling incessantly and ranting about random things), he's actually quite intelligent, at least on a tactical level.

Appearance Details:

Body build: Possesses a rather lean musculature; is quite fit for his age, but that's not saying much.
Hair: What sort of Lizard has hair?
Hair colour: See above.
Skin colour: Dull, dark green. Can appear quite cracked and dry in places due to his age.
Eye colour: Orange.
Height/Weight: About 5'0'', but appears shorter since he's usually hunched over. Quite light.
Notable Features: Has about four 'whiskers' coming off his chin and jaw that resemble a beard. Also has two bullet scars on his chest, near his heart.

Clothing Description: His dress sense could be best described as 'eccentric'. Despite not being an aviator at all, he wears a black leather aviator hat with accompanying goggles, with a set of colourful feathers stitched to the side. He also wears a matching fur-lined leather vest (with the head of a mechanical dinosaur and the words 'Gekko Gras Muriak' stitched to the back), and a bandolier for holding bullets. Aside from this, the rest of him is bare; after all, his kind needs a lot of space to absorb heat. He doesn't have any visible 'equipment', either.
Equipment: He has a belt on which he carries assorted items necessary to make his special ammo, such as gunpowder for explosive hollow-point ammo, oil for incendiary ammo, and so on. Of course, these supplies are limited.
Weapon(s): His weapon of choice is a Repeating Revolver Rifle affectionately dubbed 'Skrin-Ko' ('Smart' in Zizz language). Like most Zizz technology, it is utilitarian in appearance and made of blackened metal and darkened wood (sort of like this), and has a custom scope attached to the top (made from an old telescope). He also has a machete with a splintered handle, which he uses more as a tool than anything else.

Powers: Nothing here. Born on the same level as the rest of his kind.
Abilities: As a Zizz, he possesses a tough, scaly hide that is considerably harder to penetrate than human skin. He also has an enhanced sense of smell (from his tongue) and sight, which is particularly useful for his line of work. The Zizz also have the ability to heal from injuries faster than other species, though due to his age it takes over a week at least, and he can no longer grow back entire limbs or anything similarly major.
Talents: Crack shot with a Rifle. Has shot people from a mile-and-a-half away (or 2.414 kilometres). He is also something of a handyman; besides repairing Skrin-Ko, he can also jury-rig his own ammo and construct and place an assortment of traps (such as Bear Claws, Trip Mines and anything else he can think of), provided he has the right materials, of course.
Magic: While he has no magic of his own, he once hired an enchanter to magically bind Skrin-Ko to him; this means that no-one can fire the Rifle but him. His machete is fair game, however.

Miscellaneous Notes: His name, 'Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku', translates to 'Rimau, son of Rimau, times twelve'. It's not his full name.
Due to the nature of his work, he often takes medicine to keep him awake for extremely long periods of time. As a consequence, when he's not working, he is something of a heavy sleeper.
He prefers warm, sunny, dry climates. He becomes infinitely more grouchy in cold or wet environments.
He particularly enjoys smoking various herbal substances with a pipe. Keeps him calm and alert.
<Snipped quote by HHShetland>

The PCs are the "others" that Jorwen mentioned in the intro that are sitting and waiting back at their fire. I had to heavily edit my original to accomodate the other PCs when it was said they were with Jorwen on his patrol. The night-raid on the Reachmen watching the road happens within the time-skip as well. I was originally going to leave it out, but with the introduction of the other PCs, I decided to get you guys together on the Pad and have some banter and set up the night-raid.


Oh, I see. That certainly sounds like a good tool to whip me into shape get things moving.

Well, shit, I made 3 NPCs. Figure the more's the merrier for a group sent to keep watch on the road. It was Sadri, Tennant and Felix there too...


Actually, it was Lucex, not Felix, if I recall. I'll go ahead and presume that the PCs were all busy keeping watch or keeping to themselves, or some combination thereof.

By the way, if I'm totally honest, I was a little confused by your opening post; apparently some scrape happened, but I couldn't see where it was. I had a feeling it was in the middle of the paragraph before the time skip, but if it was, there wasn't much in the way of announcing it to me.

Also, there didn't seem to be any acknowledgement of the PCs that were (apparently) with Jorwen out there, which struck me as odd... that is, presuming they weren't, as I implied, keeping watch in another group that was sort of loosely connected to Jorwen's. Just a suggestion.

@gcold

I have a question as well. For the purposes of furthering the RP along, are we allowed to control the NPCs? I'm not sure who would be responsible for picking people to go on patrol, you see, like the patrol that Tennant/Sadri/Jorwen/Lucex went on.

Anyway, I'm going to have a nap. I'll write the intro post tomorrow... uh... today.
<Snipped quote by HHShetland>

What else could it be?


I don't know, the Iceberg? :V
<Snipped quote by Leidenschaft>

just the tip bb


Tip of the Schaft?
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