Tнe Elder Scrollѕ V: Sĸyrιм // Oρeи!

[lion's tooth]

Erald
Erald Sorarsen groaned as fire swept the area once
more and drew his hand back down. A man nearby let
out a shout and the merchant chanced a glance at him.
"Good sir, I've spent my entire adulthood working for
these wares and I'm not going to just leave it to get sc-
orched or picked over by lowly thieves! No sir, I won't.
Not today. Put to much to keep myself aloat for some-
thing like that," he replied, his voice lowering with ea-
ch word until he was muttering the last part. The man
reached over to scoop up the last of his fraudulent am-
ulets and peered up at the dragon once again to see
when he ought to make a run for it.

Name;;Erald
Race;;Nord
Age;;Twenty-Four
Location;;Riften
Marketplace
Tags;; Dragon -
Zachariah

[★ nirvana,]

Zachariah let out a snort of disbelief, but knew it wasn't the time to be arguing over something as petty as this. He shot a few more bolts at the dragon, yet it still didn't appear to do much damage. Not as much as he had hoped it would, anyway. He thought perhaps his magicka was running low today, but then he remembered what was wrong. None of his stats could regen in the sunlight, preventing him fighting the dragon at full force. He cursed again, then started crawling away from his hiding place, searching for a magicka or stamina potion.

[lion's tooth]

Erald
Above Erald Sorarsen's head, the flames spread to his
vendor booth and he began to panic. If the booth burnt
down while he was there he could get seriously burned.
Or worse yet, some of the fire could spread to his mer-
chandise and burn them as well. Sweating now slightly,
Erald looked around to see the other man making his
departure from the dragon. If he thought it was safe to
leave, then surely it was safe for Erald to run off. He cr-
awled out from under his booth and hastily stood as a
loud pop of burning wood sounded from one of the legs
of the vendor. He flinched slightly and began to run in
the general direction of one of the Marketplace's main
exits.

Name;;Erald
Race;;Nord
Age;;Twenty-Four
Location;;Riften
Marketplace
Tags;; Dragon

[★ nirvana,]

Zachariah stared in disgust at the stranger's retreating form. Obviously the man was a coward, and he, for one, was not very fond of those people afraid to defend themselves, even if they were fighting against a dragon. He did not have time to dote on this for long, however, as the dragon circled overhead before locking it's gaze on Erald. "Watch out!" he shouted at the man, his eyes widening in alarm, because even if he was a coward, that didn't mean he deserved to die. Not at all - Zachariah had more honor than that, despite being a thief.

[quill.]

Name; Vaynce the Slayer, surname unknown.
Age;; Unknown.
Gender;; Male
Factions;; The Companions;; The Harbinger.
Race;; Nord, Alpha Werewolf.
Sexuality;; Pansexual
Class;; Slayer ;; One-handed/Two-handed, skill, grit, and strength. His 'class' is basically using his hard-earned skill, strength, and athleticism to just eviscerate the opponent. His weapon depends on his mood for the week, but generally you can see him wielding a large two-handed axe, or two long, jagged, and razor sharp swords. His defense is his offense, and the enemy is generally gutted and decapitated before he even knows what happened.

Hair Color;; Dark brown/black.
Eye Color;; Deep amber, slitted.
Height;; 6'3
Weight;; 238lbs
Build;; Ripped, muscular physique that boasts extreme strength, agility, and stamina, what with his long legs and defined calves.

Main Trait;; Gruff.
[+] Traits;; Sharp minded, serious, skilled, mature.
[-] Traits;; Jaded, calloused, black-humored.
Likes;; Killing beasts, ale/mead, travelling.
Dislikes;; Being cooped in one place, loud, obnoxious people, and hangovers.
Strengths;; Strong, fast, and durable. Skilled with most forms of melee weaponry. Has immense survival skills, and is a master blacksmith.
Weaknesses;; Can be a bit...wreckless in battles, especially with large beasts.

Wife;; She's passed.
Offspring;; None that he knows up.

Other;; Is a werewolf, and he has a pet wolf-bear; Yes, a wolf-bear. A bear bred with a wolf, creating a creature that has the large, bulky, and muscular body of a bear, but with a wolf's sharpness and head. It's called 'Fang'.

[★ nirvana,]

{ - accepted! thank you for joining, I will add you to the front page soon. jump in whenever, mostly everyone is in riften fighting a dragon - }

[lion's tooth]

Erald
Erald Sorarsen looked back at the other man who had
been in the marketplace with an expression that was a
mixture of alarm and mild confusion. Following his gaze,
the Nord shifted his head to face the dragon. He locked
eyes with the dragon for a moment before backing up
piteously and running towards the Bee and the Barb. It
was certainly closer then the marketplace exit and if it
came to it, there were some of his belongings in the ro-
om he had booked for the week. It was bad enough to
stay in a city that was positively over-run with thieves
without dragging dragons into the picture.

Name;;Erald
Race;;Nord
Age;;Twenty-Four
Location;;Riften
Marketplace
Tags;; Dragon -
Zachariah

[quill.]

{{Sounds good.}}

As civilians streamed around him, some yelling Dragons, other yelling for their Gods, Vaynce slowly walked through the gates of Riften, golden, slitted amber eyes staring up at the behemoth with a dark hunger. "A dragon, hm?" He smirked wryly, revealing elongated canines. Already, there seemed to be guards and mages fighting the scaled beast, but everyone seemed afraid to call it down into close-quartered combat. A coward was running towards the Bee and the Barb, rather than the exits, and an Argonian mage was seemingly scrounging for some sort of item. He was a mage...most-likely a...

"Here." A leather-bound Solution of Magicka went flying through the air, towards the Argonian, while, at the same time, Vaynce unsheathed two long, razor-sharp and jagged Ebony blades. Fire runes ran along the dark black steel, ready to cast it's fiery blaze with only a slash through flesh. It started off as a fast walk, and then a jog, and then an outright sprint. Dark brown, shaggy hair flew through the air as Vaynce sprinted down the Marketplace, a powerful leap sending him flying on top of a vendor's stall. As wood splintered below him, Vaynce gathered all of his stamina into his legs, bounding off of the tall stall, and flying straight for the dragon, as it was inhaling for another fire attack. Razor-sharp ebony slid into the scaled behemoth's snout, forcing it to release a roar of agitation. As fire blasted out of it's mouth, Vaynce swung up with his blades, a steel boot slamming into the dragon's open eye.

"Damn monster." He growled lowly as it began to flap it's wings, trying to fly off of the building it was perched on. Using the movement as momentum, Vaynce jerked out his blades, slamming them into the left eye of the dragon...one...two...three. By now it was haphazardly flapping through the air, the Slayer sliding off of it's face and down it's ridged neck, the two blades dragging through the beast's neck scales along with Vaynce, burning and cauterizing the flesh as they went.

[★ nirvana,]

{ - Zachariah is a Breton, actually - }

Zachariah glanced up just in time to be able to catch the potion. He breathed out a sigh of relief, quickly gulping down it's contents. Magical power immediately coursed through him -- he wanted to thank the Nord who had thrown him the magicka potion, but it would be silly, and not only that, but suicidal, to do so right now. He praised Nocturnal under his breath for giving him such luck, and whirled around to face the dragon just to see that the Nord man had almost slaughtered it already. He opened and closed his mouth several times in astonishment, then shook his head in order to snap himself out of his amazement. His hands began glowing, arcane power coursing all the way through his arms as he quickly switched spells, opting instead for a chain lightning spell. Making sure that he didn't accidentally target the man riding on the back of the dragon, he staggered the foul creature with his magic, causing it to crash land. The dragon was two times more angry now, and five times more vulnerable, what with it being on the ground. Now would be the perfect time for the Nord man, whom he was beginning to recognize as the Harbringer, to finish the dragon off.

[Exoneration]

Tar-Ra sat blissfuly unaware of the horror unfolding above, picked at the loose shed on his tail. He grunted as a drop of freezing water plunked right onto the tip of his nose. He hated the Ratways. Stupid Guild, he thought, stupid Brynjolf. Stupid Delvin. It was his fault anyway. Couldn't take a joke. He had been scolded by Brynjolf for making fun of Delvin's unrequited crush on Vex. Well, not so much scolded as pummeled. He hadn't even said anything that bad! One off color remark sent Delvin into a rage. How was he supposed to know he got denied? Again.
So they brawled. No weapons, of course. Just fists. Tar-Ra even made sure to keep his claws turned inward. It wouldn't do to scar up his guildmate. Delvin, on the other hand, wasn't so considerate and didn't hold his punches. The lizardman would have a few mighty bruises in the next few hours. Even more from the thrashing he had gotten by starting the fight. Though, if anything, Brynjolf was fair. He had punished Delvin just as bad.

A large thud and roar jolted him to his feet, peeling tail forgotten. Running out through the Guild's crypt entrance, he snagged his weapons. One ebony waraxe and another.. more imaginative sword of his own creation. The Bringer, he called it, had a blade that was entwined with itself to produce a triangular, razor sharp triblade. While ebony spurs shot out at odd angles.Three of th Te lower spurs curled around to form a spiked guard. The blades melded seamlessly with the grip and to top it off, the sword-mace ended with a flawless sapphire as the pommel. It was beautiful to Tar-Ra. And extremely deadly.

No matter the beauty, he stopped dead, but for only a second, as he saw the lumbering beast, before jumping into the fray. He watched a Breton catch and gulp a potion thrown by a man who smelled more like beast than man. He sent them both a cruel smirk and jumped straight at the dragon, full speed, and tore into it's hide with his sharp weapons. To his dismay there was not the rending of flesh and bone he was used to. It was like he was a hatching again. He may as well be. Even at seven foot, this monster towered over him. Backtracking quickly, he looked around him as his fellow fighters and wondered just how they were going to get out of this alive.