StormWolf
12-17-2016, 04:47 AM
https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/1c/25/97/1c2597a3151cf812d0bbae5d92f8786e.jpg
The infamous sailing of the Nord ship, the Storm Breaker, has been heard by many. Tall tales and whispered words in particular circles, speaking of encounters with Snow Elves and even a hand in a coup within the walls of Daggerfall. Doubt and disbelief drips heavy upon such stories, for how could a crew of criminals, rebels, and miscreants topple the ancient barrows of the Wolf King? What business could they have cutting across the high seas and upsetting the balances of power?
No... For most, it is simply impossible. A story to set alight the imaginations of youth and keep boredom at bay during nobleman's balls or around the caravaneer's fires. However, some are not amused by these sea-faring malcontents, and sets shadow-steeped plots in motion against the crew, seeking to bury the very memory of them beneath the crushing weight of the abyss.
Since the Daggerfall Incident, the Storm Breaker crossed the Illiac Bay, continuing their mission to every sovereign land of Tamriel, their Captain acting as an extremity of High King Ulfric's will. Docking at the Hammerfell capital of Sentinel, the desert jewel of the Illiac, the crew of the Storm Breaker wanders unknowingly into danger.
(This is based on the Elder Scrolls and the Voyage of the Storm Breaker RP by Sikstaslathalin)
- - - Updated - - -
Name: Starkad Long-Fang
Race: Nord
Age: 30
Gender: Male
P.o.B: Castle Asahiem (https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bEL51QS3YBQ/UdP4vLQGESI/AAAAAAAAAIk/ekoYWayNk3o/s1600/wyvernRockExt02.png). home of Clan Long-Fang. Found in the mountains near Solitude.
Occupation: Former Stormcloak, estranged Thane
Starkad stands at a towering 6’7” and weighs in at 235 pounds with a bodily physique meant for one purpose – to destroy. His hair is flaxen and his eye is like blue chips of ice from the Throat of the World itself. His skin is crisscrossed with scars from his years fighting the Empire. Around his neck he wears a leather chord adorned with sabercat teeth, a snarling wolf head amulet hanging right below his collarbone. While he can be found mirthful as any Nord at times, a mask of stony sternness will be found upon Starkad's face as he dwells on his thoughts and broods. Something he has grown accustomed to doing in his fortress of solitude over Dragon's Brigde.
Art
https://i.gyazo.com/1b9ef5308adad942c43cdb4d14819f2a.png
In Game
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/8fc7d932-9dde-4357-a4aa-627563f2a0f8_zps9c74fec9.png
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/ScreenShot5_zpsf6c842be.png
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/dadc63b6-e2fb-4bf7-9c67-0b2e949ab509_zps36e27369.png
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/e0813dae-f0c2-4453-9509-6295dc30bb49_zpsc830fd33.png
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/5c5e3ec6-62a4-4629-a5a2-37c926a25e54_zps3707dadb.png
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/6d52f8db-43c9-4fdb-8c33-6f58016a6a24_zpsc7bce57a.png
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/b134a474-8992-4553-9001-7821a8aa59b4_zps0e7a141e.png
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/ScreenShot39_zps4dab13cd.png
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/ScreenShot42_zps828d61ce.png
Weapons:
"Long-Fang" (ancestral skyforged steel greatsword)
Banded iron shield
Steel belt knife
Personality: Starkad was a shining example of what a true son of Skyrim should be: Strong of body, mind, and will. He was a patriot and a worshiper of Talos, proudly wearing his loyalty to Skyrim on his sleeve. A man of great mirth, he could commonly be seen boasting in the mead halls and taverns. He changed when he befriended a young Khajiit woman by the name of Zah’raji. He matured, tempering his youthful fire. He grew from a boy to a man with Zah’raji by his side, but her sudden disappearance after he proclaimed himself to her struck a primal chord, exposing the young Nord like a nerve. His love for an outlander, a Khajiit no less, cast an ugly stigma over his name. Hostility from fellow Nords pushed Starkad to the solitary home of his ancestors, making him bitter.
Because of this, he is generally quiet and self-secluding, and will generally assume that no one will approach him without an agenda of their own. Prying into his social and/or romantic life is not advisable, and slandering his romantic involvement with a khajiit woman, or insulting the virtues of said khajiit woman (or khajiit in general) will result in a beating.
Background:
Born and raised in the cold halls of Asahiem, under the roof of Clan Long-Fang. Starkad was raised on the base fundamentals of orthodox Skyrim beliefs, the beliefs of the StormCloaks. At thirteen, Starkad signed on to the Stormcloaks. Always a boy of large stock, he was put in a combat position early, feeling the blood of another man between his fingers before he was old enough to even grow a beard. His service only continued after that, but with greater intensity and greater violence. Starkad became intimate with the bleak harshness of his motherland, spending more nights in the cold mud and snow rather than before the blazing hearth.
When he was sixteen, Starkad fought in a folly of a battle, the Battle of Fort Neugrad. It was a one sided battle in the favor of the Imperial forces, three quarters of Starkad’s unit was crushed in the assault, the remainder, including himself, were taken as prisoners of war within the Fort, held for interrogation before getting shipped off to Helgen to meet the headsman. Months passed as hunger and sickness crept into the hearts and minds of those kept behind bars, their wills slowly breaking. Still, even for those who did break and told the Imperials what they wanted, the prisoner was given the courtesy of a clean death, nothing more, but away from the eyes of the other prisoners, so that they could cling to hope. Starkad, in his desperation, turned his eyes from Talos, who seemed deaf to his prayers, and offered prayers to gods much darker. After making his sacrifice of his own blood, as well as the life of one of his broken comrades, the tides began to change.
A young Khajiit woman was thrown in his cell, and while the two of them remained distrusting at first, they realized that they needed to rely on one another to survive and escape. The Khajiit, named Zah’raji, was able to pick the lock on their cell after accumulating the right materials for such a task. Together, they made for their escape, but Zah’raji was fast and nimble, able to sneak and stalk through their surroundings, while the bulky Starkad had little more to do but stumble. Making a ruckus, Starkad attracted a handful of guards, but he had no memory of what happened next. He just remembered waking up, bare-bottom nude, with a too-small coat draped over him, a small fire an arm’s reach away. Zah’raji was stoking the fire, cooking two rabbits on a spit when Starkad awoke, and greeted the Nord with the warmest, slyest smile.
The next morning, the two parted ways, but that would not be the last time these two crossed paths. Upon returning home to Windhelm, Starkad found his family crypt full. Some nasty disease of unknown origin, the alchemist said, but Starkad knew the reason, and he still bears the guilt heavily upon his soul. Taking charge of Long-Fang Hall, Starkad resumed his service to Ulfric Stormcloak as an officer now, commended and decorated for his heroism and courage, to endure so much at the hands of the Imperials. With the influx of orens, Starkad was able to sustain his household and their holdings, as well as drown his sorrows and dull his impulses in mead. Months passed, battles were fought and blood was shed, Starkad’s fair-colored skin becoming leathered and patch-worked with scars. One night, Starkad sat alone in his usual dark corner of the tavern, the stink of mead hanging around him heavily when he felt someone occupy the seat next to him. He knew that voice anywhere. It was Zah’raji. The two of them ended up drinking and talking deep into the night and early into the morning. So it went, every other Fredas, the two would meet at the tavern and share stories. Some nights the two of them would stumble back to Starkad’s home, usually after getting kicked from the tavern by the owners. More than a few times, the two of them awoke in a state of little to no decency.
After nearly a year of this, Starkad, despite being a true Nord, confessed his feelings to the Khajiit, and while it made her apparently a little uncomfortable, they spent a sober night of passion together. She told him that while he was her favorite, Starkad was not the only man in her life, due to the nature of her work. It hurt, but he understood, and took pride in being the favorite, at least. They let themselves free for a single night, keeping each other warm against the oppressive cold of the far north. In the morning, Starkad remembers a kiss, planted with the utmost tenderness on his lips while he slept, but when he woke up, she was gone, not to be seen for some time.
It has been years since Zha'raji vanished. Uncounted days of sitting in the cold confines of Asahiem with naught to do but stare down upon the world through frosted glass and drink his mead stores. In the midst of his nightly drunken stupor, a courier came to his door and delivered a cryptic letter written in Zha'raji's handwriting. At first glance, it was nothing but a flirtatious letter in Zha'raji's usual tact and fashion, but the more he stared at it, the more certain things started to catch his eye. It was a cry for help, that she was being pursued by a violent past and she was forced to leave Skyrim's shore for her own safety, that she needed sanctuary, and could think of nowhere else to turn.
That was all Starkad needed. By dawn the next morning, Starkad was on his way to Solitude to seek out a capable Captain, a strong ship, and a strong crew, the name, location, and criteria of which were provided by yet another letter sent from an old friend from the war. Starkad knew Zha'raji, and the safest place for her to go until he was able to find her would be to her homeland. By sea, the ship would stop at the Summerset Isles before she continuing to Elswyr's southern shores. Starkad hoped his deduction was not wrong and that the Lord-Captain would remember Starkad from the war and take him on board.
Through hell and high water, Starkad served aboard the Storm Breaker with distinction, fostering a kindred loyalty to the Lord-Captain, an old officer from Starkad's soldiering days. Often the first into the fray and one of the last to leave, Starkad has earned his share of fresh scars from the ship's passage to Daggerfall. Not all on the voyage was hardship, though.
When visiting a secluded Snow Elf refuge, Starkad found himself intimately enamored with a member of the crew. Khinada, another khajiit. Wiley and clever, she helped Starkad come out of his shell, steadily easing him off of the crutch of drink and to forget the ails of which he attempts to ignore. What started as a lengthy night of passion became something far more meaningful as they endured the dangers of barrow and high sea with the rest of the Storm Breaker crew.
Other: Co-op between Stormy and I (https://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=45778&page=22&p=1779675&viewfull=1#post1779675)
The infamous sailing of the Nord ship, the Storm Breaker, has been heard by many. Tall tales and whispered words in particular circles, speaking of encounters with Snow Elves and even a hand in a coup within the walls of Daggerfall. Doubt and disbelief drips heavy upon such stories, for how could a crew of criminals, rebels, and miscreants topple the ancient barrows of the Wolf King? What business could they have cutting across the high seas and upsetting the balances of power?
No... For most, it is simply impossible. A story to set alight the imaginations of youth and keep boredom at bay during nobleman's balls or around the caravaneer's fires. However, some are not amused by these sea-faring malcontents, and sets shadow-steeped plots in motion against the crew, seeking to bury the very memory of them beneath the crushing weight of the abyss.
Since the Daggerfall Incident, the Storm Breaker crossed the Illiac Bay, continuing their mission to every sovereign land of Tamriel, their Captain acting as an extremity of High King Ulfric's will. Docking at the Hammerfell capital of Sentinel, the desert jewel of the Illiac, the crew of the Storm Breaker wanders unknowingly into danger.
(This is based on the Elder Scrolls and the Voyage of the Storm Breaker RP by Sikstaslathalin)
- - - Updated - - -
Name: Starkad Long-Fang
Race: Nord
Age: 30
Gender: Male
P.o.B: Castle Asahiem (https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bEL51QS3YBQ/UdP4vLQGESI/AAAAAAAAAIk/ekoYWayNk3o/s1600/wyvernRockExt02.png). home of Clan Long-Fang. Found in the mountains near Solitude.
Occupation: Former Stormcloak, estranged Thane
Starkad stands at a towering 6’7” and weighs in at 235 pounds with a bodily physique meant for one purpose – to destroy. His hair is flaxen and his eye is like blue chips of ice from the Throat of the World itself. His skin is crisscrossed with scars from his years fighting the Empire. Around his neck he wears a leather chord adorned with sabercat teeth, a snarling wolf head amulet hanging right below his collarbone. While he can be found mirthful as any Nord at times, a mask of stony sternness will be found upon Starkad's face as he dwells on his thoughts and broods. Something he has grown accustomed to doing in his fortress of solitude over Dragon's Brigde.
Art
https://i.gyazo.com/1b9ef5308adad942c43cdb4d14819f2a.png
In Game
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/8fc7d932-9dde-4357-a4aa-627563f2a0f8_zps9c74fec9.png
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/ScreenShot5_zpsf6c842be.png
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/dadc63b6-e2fb-4bf7-9c67-0b2e949ab509_zps36e27369.png
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/e0813dae-f0c2-4453-9509-6295dc30bb49_zpsc830fd33.png
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/5c5e3ec6-62a4-4629-a5a2-37c926a25e54_zps3707dadb.png
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/6d52f8db-43c9-4fdb-8c33-6f58016a6a24_zpsc7bce57a.png
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/b134a474-8992-4553-9001-7821a8aa59b4_zps0e7a141e.png
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/ScreenShot39_zps4dab13cd.png
https://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk215/agnulfr/ScreenShot42_zps828d61ce.png
Weapons:
"Long-Fang" (ancestral skyforged steel greatsword)
Banded iron shield
Steel belt knife
Personality: Starkad was a shining example of what a true son of Skyrim should be: Strong of body, mind, and will. He was a patriot and a worshiper of Talos, proudly wearing his loyalty to Skyrim on his sleeve. A man of great mirth, he could commonly be seen boasting in the mead halls and taverns. He changed when he befriended a young Khajiit woman by the name of Zah’raji. He matured, tempering his youthful fire. He grew from a boy to a man with Zah’raji by his side, but her sudden disappearance after he proclaimed himself to her struck a primal chord, exposing the young Nord like a nerve. His love for an outlander, a Khajiit no less, cast an ugly stigma over his name. Hostility from fellow Nords pushed Starkad to the solitary home of his ancestors, making him bitter.
Because of this, he is generally quiet and self-secluding, and will generally assume that no one will approach him without an agenda of their own. Prying into his social and/or romantic life is not advisable, and slandering his romantic involvement with a khajiit woman, or insulting the virtues of said khajiit woman (or khajiit in general) will result in a beating.
Background:
Born and raised in the cold halls of Asahiem, under the roof of Clan Long-Fang. Starkad was raised on the base fundamentals of orthodox Skyrim beliefs, the beliefs of the StormCloaks. At thirteen, Starkad signed on to the Stormcloaks. Always a boy of large stock, he was put in a combat position early, feeling the blood of another man between his fingers before he was old enough to even grow a beard. His service only continued after that, but with greater intensity and greater violence. Starkad became intimate with the bleak harshness of his motherland, spending more nights in the cold mud and snow rather than before the blazing hearth.
When he was sixteen, Starkad fought in a folly of a battle, the Battle of Fort Neugrad. It was a one sided battle in the favor of the Imperial forces, three quarters of Starkad’s unit was crushed in the assault, the remainder, including himself, were taken as prisoners of war within the Fort, held for interrogation before getting shipped off to Helgen to meet the headsman. Months passed as hunger and sickness crept into the hearts and minds of those kept behind bars, their wills slowly breaking. Still, even for those who did break and told the Imperials what they wanted, the prisoner was given the courtesy of a clean death, nothing more, but away from the eyes of the other prisoners, so that they could cling to hope. Starkad, in his desperation, turned his eyes from Talos, who seemed deaf to his prayers, and offered prayers to gods much darker. After making his sacrifice of his own blood, as well as the life of one of his broken comrades, the tides began to change.
A young Khajiit woman was thrown in his cell, and while the two of them remained distrusting at first, they realized that they needed to rely on one another to survive and escape. The Khajiit, named Zah’raji, was able to pick the lock on their cell after accumulating the right materials for such a task. Together, they made for their escape, but Zah’raji was fast and nimble, able to sneak and stalk through their surroundings, while the bulky Starkad had little more to do but stumble. Making a ruckus, Starkad attracted a handful of guards, but he had no memory of what happened next. He just remembered waking up, bare-bottom nude, with a too-small coat draped over him, a small fire an arm’s reach away. Zah’raji was stoking the fire, cooking two rabbits on a spit when Starkad awoke, and greeted the Nord with the warmest, slyest smile.
The next morning, the two parted ways, but that would not be the last time these two crossed paths. Upon returning home to Windhelm, Starkad found his family crypt full. Some nasty disease of unknown origin, the alchemist said, but Starkad knew the reason, and he still bears the guilt heavily upon his soul. Taking charge of Long-Fang Hall, Starkad resumed his service to Ulfric Stormcloak as an officer now, commended and decorated for his heroism and courage, to endure so much at the hands of the Imperials. With the influx of orens, Starkad was able to sustain his household and their holdings, as well as drown his sorrows and dull his impulses in mead. Months passed, battles were fought and blood was shed, Starkad’s fair-colored skin becoming leathered and patch-worked with scars. One night, Starkad sat alone in his usual dark corner of the tavern, the stink of mead hanging around him heavily when he felt someone occupy the seat next to him. He knew that voice anywhere. It was Zah’raji. The two of them ended up drinking and talking deep into the night and early into the morning. So it went, every other Fredas, the two would meet at the tavern and share stories. Some nights the two of them would stumble back to Starkad’s home, usually after getting kicked from the tavern by the owners. More than a few times, the two of them awoke in a state of little to no decency.
After nearly a year of this, Starkad, despite being a true Nord, confessed his feelings to the Khajiit, and while it made her apparently a little uncomfortable, they spent a sober night of passion together. She told him that while he was her favorite, Starkad was not the only man in her life, due to the nature of her work. It hurt, but he understood, and took pride in being the favorite, at least. They let themselves free for a single night, keeping each other warm against the oppressive cold of the far north. In the morning, Starkad remembers a kiss, planted with the utmost tenderness on his lips while he slept, but when he woke up, she was gone, not to be seen for some time.
It has been years since Zha'raji vanished. Uncounted days of sitting in the cold confines of Asahiem with naught to do but stare down upon the world through frosted glass and drink his mead stores. In the midst of his nightly drunken stupor, a courier came to his door and delivered a cryptic letter written in Zha'raji's handwriting. At first glance, it was nothing but a flirtatious letter in Zha'raji's usual tact and fashion, but the more he stared at it, the more certain things started to catch his eye. It was a cry for help, that she was being pursued by a violent past and she was forced to leave Skyrim's shore for her own safety, that she needed sanctuary, and could think of nowhere else to turn.
That was all Starkad needed. By dawn the next morning, Starkad was on his way to Solitude to seek out a capable Captain, a strong ship, and a strong crew, the name, location, and criteria of which were provided by yet another letter sent from an old friend from the war. Starkad knew Zha'raji, and the safest place for her to go until he was able to find her would be to her homeland. By sea, the ship would stop at the Summerset Isles before she continuing to Elswyr's southern shores. Starkad hoped his deduction was not wrong and that the Lord-Captain would remember Starkad from the war and take him on board.
Through hell and high water, Starkad served aboard the Storm Breaker with distinction, fostering a kindred loyalty to the Lord-Captain, an old officer from Starkad's soldiering days. Often the first into the fray and one of the last to leave, Starkad has earned his share of fresh scars from the ship's passage to Daggerfall. Not all on the voyage was hardship, though.
When visiting a secluded Snow Elf refuge, Starkad found himself intimately enamored with a member of the crew. Khinada, another khajiit. Wiley and clever, she helped Starkad come out of his shell, steadily easing him off of the crutch of drink and to forget the ails of which he attempts to ignore. What started as a lengthy night of passion became something far more meaningful as they endured the dangers of barrow and high sea with the rest of the Storm Breaker crew.
Other: Co-op between Stormy and I (https://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=45778&page=22&p=1779675&viewfull=1#post1779675)