Sundered Land - A post-apocalyptic TES RP

[Kerr]

Updated Attributes:

Hidden:

S: 6
P: 5
E: 5
C: 6
I: 7
A: 6

[Archer]

Updated stats

Hidden:

S:4
P:7
E:6
C:5
I:9
A:4

[Hissien]

Spoiler:

SPECIA:
S:7
P:6
E:5
C:2
I:8
A:7

Updated stats, changed a few things around so it would actually make sense

[Emzi 43]

Well I can't see anyone else joining up, so we can begin on a start date, since I imagine most of you are involved with other RP I imagine anytime soon should be fine right? When's best for y'all?

[Hissien]

Anytime for me

[The-Shadow-One]

Well any time is good for me, but with batman coming out next week...

[The SheoDovah]

TIME DOES NOT APPLY TO DOVAHS! WE ARE THE RULERS OF TIME AND MORTALS. THE RP SHALL BEGIN SOON!

Or any time is good for me.

[Kerr]

I don't really mind when we start.

[Emzi 43]

So shall we say July the 1st? If that's fine that's when the first DM post will be. See you then I guess.

[The-Shadow-One]

B-but I want it now

[The SheoDovah]

But we brits are busy on that date. It's the annual howling at the sun ritual until it sods off back to France. Damn French. And i can't delay it in favour of an RP. Joking aside, i'm pretty much cool with any date. 6th and 7th are a bit iffy due to two long work days due to 2 hours of traveling.

[Emzi 43]

Sorry Shadow, you'll just have to give me a week. Once everything's tied down, we can start it up. That said, there may be some problems, as I've had to sign on to a ship July/August, and I can't say what internet access I'll have. In that case, keep you character sheets, or I'll keep them, and I'll redux in about September. But nothing is certain, I may just start it anyway.

[The SheoDovah]

Then i will have no choice but to undergo an 80s training montage and prepare to slowly walk after you before hitting you on the nose with a phone.

[Emzi 43]

Well, this is a hella long post, so hidden. If you are busy on certain days, I really don't mind some delay, I'll try and keep my DM posts as regular as possible.

Hidden:

And so the adventure begins…

Quenthel

The Mazken awoke to the booming sound of a war drum. With each beat, the feet of a passing unit of soldiers struck the ground in unison. Initially she panicked; how could she have possibly overslept? But looking around her, she saw that there were many slumbering cultists. All around her part of the camp, soldiers were moving into formation, preparing to march away. Following them were throngs of the less organised militias, raggedly walking rather than marching. Finally, the deadra heard the crack of a whip from the left, probably slaves brought to move supplies, or drunken soldiers. Quenthel couldn’t help her wandering eyes, and found she was looking beyond the camp towards the almighty Valus Mountains. Their allies would be fortifying a similar gap on the other side, in what was once Morrowind, to close the gap on these insurgents; any other in the army might call them scum for even thinking that the ‘great one’ Alduin, was mortal in any way. The shouting of an officer brought Quenthel out of this maze of thought, and she begun to collect her gear. As she prepared to leave her bedroll, she was approached by an out-of-breath young man, barely growing his first chin hairs. “You are the Mazken?” he barely managed, and, satisfied by her silence, continued “Priest Darius… in his tent…very urgent…can’t say more” he finally finished between deep breaths.

Anise Saren

“Get moving, come on!” hissed the ragged looking fellow in old mail. To his credit, some response was garnered from the slow moving resistance members. Crawling along the floor, Saren remained ahead of them, moving away from the campfire the idiots had lit, bringing the draconic scouts straight to them. They had relied too much on the natural protection of the Valus Mountains, and it had cost them. Saren stopped to rest, under the cover of some thicket, and noticed one of the dirty, reeking rebels crawling up alongside her. Initially fearing Smalltalk, the hairs on her neck rose when she noticed the hostility in his eyes. “By Ah’kay of old, why we got one of them black elves ‘ere?” he whispered, with more than a hint of malice. Not a great conversation starter. Still, Saren began to think back on the events that brought her here, deep in the Valus Mountains and away from her home. As many good stories begin, it was a dark and stormy night. However this night, a stranger approached the Undervillage. Following their detainment and questioning, it was revealed that they were in fact from there, and told of a number of other Dunmer of the clan who had gone to the rebels hidden in the Valus Mountains. Babbling incoherently, they managed to discern that they were now lost, and possibly in peril. Whilst many were content to let these runaways deal with their own affairs, Saren volunteered to attempt to find them, these were her people, after all. Snapping back to reality, under the thicket, she realised her timing could not have been worse, what with the assembly of resistance members and the siege by the cult.

Arnand Maceil

Two soldiers of the dragon cult dashed straight past the small hollow in which Maceil was forced to hide. Assaulting them would have been highly unwise, the area was thick with their ilk. They had harried him across half of the old province of Cyrodill. With few permanent military forces, the hordes under the command of the Dragons simply converged in a frenzy on their targets, which Arnand had unfortunately been on the way to. On no less than four encounters had they pursued him like this, becoming twitchier the closer he got to the Valus Mountains. With the increasing mass of soldiers and fanatics, he could only assume a battle was to take place. Perhaps their enemies, presumably the rebels, could offer assistance in hiding him? Or he could wait until it was all over, but more of the cult were incoming, and there was a great risk of being found.

Faeth Avlest

“Heave! Come on you fools! The priests want this by tonight!” bellowed the man in plate armour, presumably the leader, to the ‘soldiers’ pulling Faeth’s cage in a wagon. The men looked at him fearfully, twitching and jumping at any movement he made. Perhaps they didn’t know of his abilities, but they knew he was dangerous, a weapon and to be avoided at all costs. Unlike the men who had taken him from Valenwood, helmed fiends in near impenetrable armour, to which the secrets of its crafting were known only to the dov and the smiths forced to make them. One or two he could have taken on, or outrun, but the number they brought, twenty? Thirty? There were simply too many. But now, maybe this was his chance. They had brought him far, before these helmed guards left him with less competent and less significant soldiers. Many had set off in pursuit of another man, mage by the looks of him, in a black robe anyway, leaving him with three fairly soft looking cultists and their leader. They had him bound, and in an iron cage on cart. But ropes can be cut, locks can be picked. And they hadn’t bound his magic…

Rahgol

Even mountains look tiny from the clouds. The dragon soared high above the events taking place below, enjoying the terror he must inspire in those below, and an elevated view of the environment. Rahgol could see the various camps of the cultists, and hidden away, deep within the mountains; the smaller rebel camp, protected by a stick fence *ahem* palisade defence. This little bit of light reconnaissance was refreshing after flying above the ‘army’, or rather rabble, sent with him from the Throat of the World. He was not the only Dragon sent by their reclusive king, Alduin, here, many other flew, conducting similar scrying. When the time came, they would prove even more useful, but for now the dragons were to prepare for the inevitable battle against the heretics, living in the dirt. News had come about that they had in fact found a way to fight and kill Dragons effectively. To a population who believed that their overlords were absolutely and wholly immortal, this would be devastating. And now the conclusion, the dragons knew this could never be allowed to happen, and Rahgol was here to stop it personally. The rumours would end in one bloody, fiery day…

Short version, you're in the Valus Mountains, Cyrodill, where cultists are converging on the rebel not so stronghold. Your characters are embedded in the fray somewhere. Sorry to start this way, but yeah, gotta keep this together. I think I got everyone, so if I've missed anything don't hesitate to just ask what the heck's going on.

[Hissien]

Quenthel

Quenthel looked at the Hunan, pitiful and weak he seemed to her. She didn't even bother responding to him and just walked past him, heading for Darius' tent. She hadn't seen full-scale mortal warfare in quite some time. Whatever happened, the Daedra would yet live. Of that at least, she could be certain. Quenthel continued casually observing the mortals as she walked towards the tent.

[The-Shadow-One]

Faeth grinned at the soldiers carrying him, they're making themselves easy pickings for the bosmer. "I suppose all of you are fairly afraid of me. Would a demonstration make you feel better?" He asked mockingly bringing forth a sharp sliver of ice to his beckoning, manipulating it to discreetly cut the ropes.

[The SheoDovah]

Rhagol was eager to burn the mortals who dared to defy his godking's will. He had killed thousands of them since his rebirth and was noted for being the angeriest Dovah alive by the mortals. He was responsible for single handly destroying the city of Whiterun after dropping giants on it for a few weeks just to test their defenses. He crushed Morthal with his body. He roasted the generals of the so called imperial army and he had an excellent record of achieving success.

He had heard of the rumours of the men and woman of mortal kind finding a way to kill his kin and he was looking forward to fighting them. He would melt their very skin from their bones and today would be known as Rhagol's day. He disliked working with the mortal men of the cult as they were too squishy, too fragile and more likely to get in the way of his voice or complain about getting an arrow to the knee.

[Kerr]

Saren was disappointed to see the rebel base in the process of being crushed under the heels of the Dragon Cult. She was glad her own home was not as exposed. Saren stared at the rebel. For some reason she didn't trust him. "Because I walked. Maybe you never noticed, but Morrowind is on the other side of the mountains." whispered Saren. "Have you seen any other Dunmer?" Saren asked still in a low tone.

[Archer]

Arnand made a conscious effort to minimize any noise he could make. Likely death vs a likely death. he thought as he pondered whether he should try and make for the rebel stronghold or try and ally with the dragon cult. After a few moments of listening, he settled on a choice. The rebels are more likely to be somewhat tolerant should the secret slip. With that, he cautiously attempted to start moving.

[Emzi 43]

Quenthel

The priest's tent was not far, and easily distinguished due to its extravagance. Entering, she could see that the occupant was no different, dressed in dark steel armour tinted with gold, and a great fur cloak. "Ah, the Mazken" he said without looking up. As Quenthel made to acknowledge him, he held up a hand, quieting her. "No need for a sermon with you, I'll get straight to the point. You're too valuable to waste among the regular infantry, so you're going to another camp. From there, you'll take command of a small number of your own troops. That's right, you'll lead. Your objective will be their camp itself; once the majority of forces have committed to the battle, you and other, similar units, will move around them and into the camp itself. Clear?" he said, not taking his eyes off the map on his table once.

Faeth

The men didn't respond, but the tension rose. As the ice shard did its work, the man nearest to Faeth was having difficulty concentrating. Faeth could see he was making a conscious effort not to look at him, but every now and then, his head would turn slightly. Finally, he relented, and turned to look at Faeth. His face fell, upon making eye contact his jaw dropped and he turned his head away quickly. Faeth felt the final ropes fall free. Since they were avoiding looking at him, no one noticed.

Anise
"Naw, but I eard enough tales about you people, yer homes were all ash before the drakes came! And why'd ye come? Safer to stay where you was if you ast me" replied the man, his voice getting slightly louder.
"Alright, everyone up, move quickly but keep low, no need to crawl though" whispered the one leading the group.

Arnand
The soldiers had rushed on by, and although there were others around, there were enough sounds in the forest to hide his movements. Around him was dense thicket, but he could make out the path the soldiers had taken, leading down. There was some sort of commotion coming from down below.

Rahgol
The sky was good, but the they had seen what they needed to see. The mortals were positioning themselves perfectly. And yet for a moment, Rahgol felt uneasy, and unfamiliar feeling. And then they felt the passing of something, they new not what. The confidence of the slaughter ahead was exciting. But they would have to return lower down, isolated skirmishes were breaking out, and cover 'fire' was part of a dovah's role on the battlefield.

[The-Shadow-One]

Faeth looked at the man who was 'discreetly' looking at him, stepping close to his place. "So, tell me. Where am I going? Who to?" He asked, rubbing his wrists as he talked, pushing his cloak back so it fell over his shoulders.

[Kerr]

Hidden:

Sorry, but I'm confused. Is Saren inside the rebel camp sneaking around or his she near the Dragon Cultists and sneaking to the rebel camp?

[Hissien]

Hidden:

putting an immortal daedra in charge of a bunch of squishy mortals >:D I like it

"Of course... Father" Quenthel said to the priest as if the man's title had been dragged out of her with a rusty blade. She hoped whomever was at the camp would have a bit more to say on the matter. "Do you have anythjng else you'd like for me to know before proceeding?" She asked, looking down at the human.

[Archer]

Arnand followed the path towards the commotion, mentally preparing himself should things go sour.

[Emzi 43]

Hidden:

It's fine, Kerr, I was ambiguous, sneaking towards a larger camp. there isn't so much of a fortress, just one large camp and a collection of smaller ones. You've been forced to leave one of the smaller ones due to some [censored] lighting a fire. Hey, they're just rebels, I never said they were smart...