POOHEAD189

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

In the CS tab

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

i’d love to start writing again - i’ll throw a character together :)

@LadyTabris

Fat fingered the laugh reaction, but glad to have you onboard Tabby!

My CS should be finished this weekend.

@Shu

Nice!

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

@POOHEAD189 Is Padomay or as she is more popularly known, Sithis; is she applicable?

@Dark Cloud

Only the nine divines. So Akatosh, Arkay, Dibella, Julianos, Kynareth, Mara, Stendarr, Zenithar, and Talos.

You can certainly worship Sithis, of course. They just wouldn't be the representation Akatosh chose you to be.

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

So far we have Stendarr, Mara, and Zenithar!

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

I'm surprised no one's mentioned their deity so they don't copy each other. Also make sure you're using the updated CS. After the first night, GCold made an addition to it.

Corsairs of Fortune: A Sword & Sorcery RP

The Cutthroat

Name: Rayth Gerak

Race: Male

Career/Class: Bladesman and Thug

Sex: Male

Physical Description: A lean, fit, rakishly handsome man with brown hair and glimmering dark eyes, with a navy blue tunic over chainmail (covering leather) and loose fitting dark brown trousers. He has a fair face, albeit with a scar at the left of his chin and running down his jawline. His hair is wavy, loose and tousled. Not entirely groomed as he was raised, he still looks more or less presentable, and perhaps charming when he feels the need to present himself as such. He has the look of a man stepping out of youth, refined and matured like silver through a fiery crucible.

Personality (can be small): There's always an intensity about Rayth, be it with fighting, betting, or love. He prefers to strike when the iron's hot, and the only thing as quick as his blade is his tongue. Growing up as a thief and street tough, he was inducted into a hospital that raised him from adolescence to adulthood before he joined a military campaign in the Dread Wastes, which ended in disaster. It left him with a lower value on life, so he'll not be too dismayed if he's paid to cut a throat or spill a bit of blood. The life of a mercenary has given him useful survival skills and some wisdom, but he's still vibrant in health and life.

Equipment:

• Saber
• Dagger
• Traveling clothes

Corsairs of Fortune: A Sword & Sorcery RP

Rayth Garek

---

The merciless sun was torn from his shoulders as he stepped within the shade of the porch, the cool wind kissing his skin like a lost lover. But it paled in comparison to the smell of fresh cooked food that wafted out of the half lidded windows and ramshackle door. Rayth pulled the door open and stepped into the Tacklerock, seemingly just beginning its lunchhour. He must have been early. The patrons were outnumbered by the staff for once. The rakish rogue shrugged, figuring it just meant quicker service that way. Unshackling his baldric, he was about to take a seat when the door swung open behind him and near half a dozen street toughs stepped in, guffawing at what was likely a poor joke. One shouldered Rayth out of the way as the pack crashed through the doorway. Had they been on the street, Rayth would have bled the man out without the others even noticing he was wounded before it was too late, but as it were they were in a very enclosed space. He'd let it pass without conflict.

Scratching his 5 o'clock shadow, he lazily stalked over to the counter and planted himself down, keeping his sword and dagger close at hand in case of thieves. A portly but confident woman, likely the matron of the establishment, made her way over to him with a smirk. "What will it be, honey?" She asked him, hands on her hips. Rayth gave a lazy smirked back, his every moment like a lounging panther, as if he was merely saving his energy to use it when it counted.

"Anything but fish. I've had enough fish the last week. I'll take a spirit too, whatever you recommend. I trust you." He remarked with a wink.

"Oh you flatter me, but you're far too young and skinny. Might want to try your luck with someone else. Maybe that cute little thing over there." The matronly woman pointed to the corner of the common room and gave him a look, before wiping her hands and going into the back to fetch the food. Rayth glanced over his shoulder to where she had indicated, and he blinked. She hadn't been kidding. Resplendent in swathed robes and bedlah pants that hugged her figure delectably, the very pretty woman in question ate gingerly. Briefly, it registered in his mind she was either a mage or an initiate of some sort, and he nearly took the older woman up on her advice. It was a rare sight to see a beautiful woman sitting alone in a city such as this. But usually there were reasons for those outliers, and so he decided to just keep to himself. It was likely better for both them.

He placed a hand on the side of his neck and rubbed, patiently waiting for his food and easing the tightness from his muscles, still stiff from the brawl at Moonie's two nights ago. That was, until his keen ears caught a gruff voice lift in the air.

"How'd you like some company, girl? A real man'd lighten your day up, I'd say."

Rayth snorted, recognizing the voice as one of the ruffians that had come bumbling in off the street. Ever curious, he peeked behind his shoulder again and realized it was a bit more than he had expected. It was not one, but all five of the brutes standing around the woman's table, smiling like jackals before a fresh kill. One gave a lewd gesture with his fist and another offered his lap for her to sit on. Rayth didn't know why he was going to get involved, but he guessed he was a glutton for an adrenaline rush.

"Come on, darling. Don't look so lone-"

"By Eruvar, I had no idea you sat all the way over here," Rayth interjected, his head poking in amongst the crowd. As the men were suddenly flummoxed at a new voice cutting through their jeers, the cutthroat patted one of them on the head and smacked another playfully on the cheek. "Thank you gentlemen. All this ruckus helped me find her! You-" He wagged his finger at the woman, shaking his head as he sat on the booth beside her. "You scamper about taverns and expect me to look everywhere. Just because I arrived late, you're already eating without me..."

"Oi, who the fuck are you, mate?" A gap-toothed man demanded, reaching for a hidden weapon; likely a cudgel.

Rayth gave him a look like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm her lover? Don't tell me you are too." He chortled and gave the woman a side eyed glance, and plucked a gold coin out of thin air, as if by magic and not the sleight of hand it was. "Thanks so much for keeping her company, fellows. Here's something for the trouble. She's a handful, believe me." Idly he flicked the gold royal it into the crowd of men, a few of them grabbing at it and the others looking more than a bit annoyed. Eventually they found it wasn't worth the trouble of hitting a married man at lunchtime for some foreign tail, so they dispersed muttering amongst themselves.

"I figured," Rayth began quietly, "we could both benefit by having a non-violent meal together, rather than a violent one that would get everyone kicked out of the tavern. Do you agree?"

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Neil wasn't too perturbed. They had plenty of alcohol on the ship, and the cider was sweet. As much as it would likely kill him to stay here, there was a homemade quality to the food and drink. Unprocessed and fresh off the stove. A small vacation here wouldn't kill him, though the twinkle in Sayeeda's eyes did make him want to drink some hard liquor with her, preferably alone and naked. If their God was watching, Neil hoped he understood the pilot had an active imagination.

"Amen!" Neil cried with them, all too eager to get some of the delectable smelling food into his mouth, but he was yanked up by Junebug onto the dance floor.

He flushed, but laughed with her as they made it to the green and began to move with the music, hands and fingers intertwined, hips and feet moving in practiced step. Neil could dance to a few tunes, but he never did ask if Junebug could. It was a pleasant surprise, and soon the two of them stepped closer than even the married couples. It wasn't provocative to most dances at bars like the Hammered Cock, but to some of the more conservative onlookers, they were practically fucking in broad daylight.

At the aghast watchers, Junebug smirked. "Think they're jealous?"

"I'd be jealous too. Not every guy has a hot commando girlfriend."

Junebug gave him a look that was practically an order to kiss her, but if he did he wouldn't be able to stop. Glancing to the right, Neil saw Gerome watching them. Not only the two spacers, but everyone. Brother Gerome did not look pleased either, but it was hard to tell if it was due to Neil and Junebug or something else. A fat colonist sitting at a table raised a pie in salute, causing Neil to chortle and nearly break up their rhythm. Close by, Taya was being chatted up by a few of the younger men, and one was even gesturing to the green to dance, like as not.

"Let's grab a bite. Tonight we can continue this..."

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

Altmer it is, even if that will likely give me the 'dislike' buff straight away. But who cares!

@Fetzen

Luckily the Thalmor do not currently exist, so Altmer aren't the huge assholes they're usually thought of.

Corsairs of Fortune: A Sword & Sorcery RP