Lovely Bones

Splintered / Reflections

Keeper's placid smile grew to a wide toothy one, then receeded again. Perhaps his eagerness was overplayed, still not being fully sure of these other beings and how they do their social dances, the lizards not least of all. Battle glee is consuming, but he'd have his time to slake his thirst for blood. Then Keeper heard the announcement by their commander, resting his fork on the half finished tray of the steaming culinary abomination. Change of Plans! Escalation. Direct route. Prep suits. Airdrop. "Judgement time." he growled cold and venomous. The pale gennari's posture straightening and his face hardening into a steely scowl.

He dabbed the food from his mouth with the napkin, swiftly redonned the black tactical gloves that tucked into the dull-metallic grey vambraces worn over the sleeves of his frock coat. Then he cupped the sacred mask and brought the face of agony over his own. The top of the mask slipping under the slight lip of the flak helm visor, before clicking into place with audible hissing resounding before ceasing. The black glassy eyes of the pained vissage briefly flashing red before dimming to black again, before pulling the obscuring black hood over his helm, the upper ridge of the thick cowl-like hood fixed in place with magnetic force letting out an audible click.

Keeper stood then, taking a step back from the table. He made an ovaloid symbol with his middle and index finger while he curled the rest and lightly beat the breastplate worn over his black frock coat twice. As he regarded his squad mates, solemnly, "I'wardrana." Before giving a subtle nod, turning heel, and bolting to his post with impressive speed. The metal tread of plated hooves pounding as he made way to the MAS suits.

Splintered / Reflections

Keeper shoveled the steaming mixture of food on his plate into his mouth as he listened to Kerris's offer to Veep. The clashing palete of sweet, savory, and salt anathema to him. The air, free of the chemicals his kind needed to keep breathing for extended periods, was overwelmingly sweet. He ate voraciously, keeping his mouth shut as he went. Kerris offered Veep a hunt and to join her on her racing escapades. Interesting.

Now the warrior priest knew full well the Dagorath siblings were particular with their words, the invitation was not given to him. Though, perhaps as a consequence of his time spent amongst those outside his own enclave, he could not quiet the urge to speak true. He swallowed, before speaking softly. "Ah, the starved spirit of battle..." He sat up straight with a rictus grin, eyes narrowing on the Darogoth sister, before exualting in that vigorous manner he often did, "I would also enjoy being a part of your righteous hunt." Keeper then leaned forward slightly, his face at rest and bombastic-warm demeanor taking on a sinister edge, "My home is night, only the Seeker finds Kithil in the dark." He then leaned back, a warm laugh and a placid warm smile on his face.

Splintered / Reflections

Keeper stood, saluting his commander before Silverwind nade his exit. His new commander was laxer then he was accustomed to, but the handsoff attitude to minor infractions was something he had grown to prize amongst leadership. He looked to the siblings, contemplating going to get some grub along with them, but remembering a joke of his could cause a brawl, decided against. Then he looked upon the other Gennari, the turncoat his right eye twitching with contempt. There was Fae, honestly he didn't want to deal with her eccentricity right before battle. Finally, he was concerned as to the state of Veep given his fleetness from the briefing.

Well that settles it. "I'm off to check our armorments. Don't eat all the good stuff before I get to the kitchen.", he said playfully, turning on his hoof and heading in the same direction as Veep and Fae, his paled tail flicking one of his black coattails free from the kneegaurd it had been caught on.

Splintered / Reflections

Keeper remained in his somewhat relaxed position, his gazed firmly fixed upon his commander as Veep rose and went to check on the weapons condition. Understandable, one could never be to prepared for battle, though the masked soldier was fairly confident in the condition and reliability of the weapons. Then the elf spoke up, drawing his gaze away from his Commander, her insistance the condition of the weapons perfect conditoin, her indignance barely concieled as she chased after him. As mildly amusing as that was, he wondered on the commanders temperment, what did the fox tolerate? His silent gaze retuned to his commander yet again.

Then the siblings raised another good question, had the defenders prepared? ...and the food, it would be good to get a hot meal before they are stuck with MREs again. Finally, the old one, she reinforced his question. What resistance would the SPEAR team be facing? There had to be more information about their enemies? Keeper's silent gaze remained on his commander, awaiting instruction, extrapolation, and watching for the steel or weakness of the ol' fox-face by his coming conduct now that the training wheels are off.

TES: Of Sellswords, Septims, and Sorrows

@Andreyich Nah man. ESO lore is MOSTLY made to sell microtransactions. I realize I need to edit my original post to add details in the setting. It is 4E.

Mercs in a Fantasy Setting

OOC is up for anyone interested. https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/197255-tes-of-sellswords-septims-and-sorrows/ooc

TES: Of Sellswords, Septims, and Sorrows

Of Sellswords, Septims, and Sorrows

It is the year 167 of the fourth Era. The promise of coin or blood has drawn you to the chaotic border zone between Morrowind, Skyrim, and Cyrodiil. You have made your way to a shady inn erected at a way station to one major mining settlement, The Toads stand. Coming out of the bitter wind chill and rain you pull up a seat as a hooded patron takes a seat near you.

"Allow me to formally welcome you to Sellsword to the dreadcrossing. A locally contested terrirtory at the borders of Skyrim, Morrowind, and Cyrodill in the 4th Era. Why is it locally contested you may ask? Gold and soulgems. They are rich beneath Nirn here. Though formally no nation nor province are at arms over the site, smaller groups of interest are... pressing for dominance.

That's where you come in! I assume you looking so scary and murderous. The region as chaotic as it has become has much work for men and mer of a *flexible* persuasion. The roads frought with highwaymen and brigands smelling opportunity, organized crime on the rise in these mining towns who have sprung so swiftly, private interests of certain companies from the three nations, hostile wildlife, and there are murmurs of darker things being unearthed. Oh! Oblivion, how rude of me. What did you say your name was..?"

Character Creation

The fun stuff. A format for the character you may wish to play.

The Nature of a Sellsword:

Something to consider when you create your character is that sellswords tend to be of adept talent in arts of war and that they are sellswords rather than an inkeeper or noble which denotes a lack of wealth, lack of influence, and perhaps a general disposition towards high risk occupation.

Race:

A list of races to pick from for the RP. There will be some cherry picking.

Men:
Breton
Imperial
Nord
Redguard

Mer:
Altmer
Bosmer
Dunmer
Maormer
Osimer

Beastfolk:
Argonian
Khajiit-Cathay
Khajiit-Ohmes
Khajiit-Pahmar

Architype:
What kind of warrior is your char exactly? A battle mage? Archer? Pugilist? Etc.

Special Skills:
Your characters extra talents. Do you pick locks? Talk the pants off of people? Etc.

Arcane Arts:
A listing of magicka schools available for characters magickally inclined

Destruction:
Restoration:
Necromancy:
Conjuration:
Alteration:
Illusion:

Character Sheet Format:

Name:
Race:
Gender: M/F
Age:
Hieght:
Weight:
Image: (optional)
Countenance: a physical description of the character
History: a brief description of a characters life up until they arrived at the dreadcrossing
Architype:
Minor Skills:
Arcane Arts:

Feel free to ask any questions in OOC and post a Character Sheet in OOC to apply.

Mercs in a Fantasy Setting

People certainly seem to be interested in the TES setting for this kind of RP. Give it a day or two to see if any other ideas peak interest and then I'll create a basic outline and get ready to kick off this kind of thing.

Mercs in a Fantasy Setting

@Raqueltrper Fandom settings in general would be easier. People interested likely already know quite a bit about the setting, making it easy to set boundries in the IP's setting.

As for a TES RP, I have a few ideas, but "write what you know". So likely some 4th Era chaotic province in Skyrim, Hammerfell, or Cyrodiil where foriegn fighters are more welcome (Morrowind don't take too kindly to a band of s'wit n'wahs gettin' uppity as we all well know). Likely I'd give a list of races, hardcap how potent player magics are (can't have you achieving Chim on an underdog story), and throw in some options for what materials our arms and armour get to be made of (if we're all packing adamantium and ebony, not much to threaten us, aye?).

Mercs in a Fantasy Setting

I would like to tell a more personal tale of a small band of mercenaries (2-4) plying their trade in a sudo-medieval fantasy setting. The nature of the RP is grim and gritty in tone with subject matter not suitable for children, hence the 18+ tag; suggestive themes, adult situations, use of drugs and alcohal, graphic violence, etc.

As for the setting as a whole, I have a few ideas:

1.) Custom Setting: some kind of island continent territorilly severed in twain by to hostile nations, obviously this option would be a lot more involved and time consuming.
2.) Effectively Fandom: a province in The Elder Scrolls, a Nation in westeros, a messy region in Warhammer Fantasy (oldhammer of course, damned be AOS and The Endtimes), etc. Something very self contained with as little interaction with important characters and events in those settings as possible