Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-29458028-20160428143857/@comment-29458028-20160501015002

(Oh yeah, we can start)

(So far I see no reason not to approve anyone. Do remember armor is mostly aesthetic XD, so steel and daedric is the same.)

The night was cool, as the winds whistled through the gaps in the branches of the trees that surrounded Falkreath. Spring for Skyrim was coming soon, as the cold air of winter had lifted. Yet, the flowers had not bloomed, and the animals had not awoken. It was a period of change. Of transition.

A lone, armored man walked into Falkreath, carrying a pair of swords strapped to his back, as he surveyed the area for activity, the wind blowing through his hair, ruffling it. There didn't seem to be much to look at, and the overall air was gloomy and heavy. His blue eyes seemed to shine in the dark, as he took note of his surroundings.

His reflexes were fast, and he was very strong, but that wasn't enough to stop a werewolf from rushing clean out of some bushes, the body of a fallen man recently eviscerated lying nearby. The armored man was sent flying with a swipe, but he landed on his feet after twsiting midair to right his stance, drawing his black, shiny sword.

With a smile, the man seemed to dissapear, and he reappeared behind the werewolf, as a black explosion knocked the beast down. Shadowy blades flew from his origin, and pinned the wolf, slowing it.

The werewolf gave a loud, brutal howl, as it proceeded to swipe furiously at the man, who blocked with his sword, the sheer quality of the blade shattering the claws of the werewolf, as he parried with unnatural strength. With bestial roar, the werewolf performed and two handed uppercut, sending the man flying into a building.

The man staggered to his feet, and three unnatural bolts of crimson fire flew from his hand and converged on the wolf, revitalizing him and draining the essence of his foe. A few golden strands of energy blasted the werewolf, before the man again seemed to teleport forward, this time his blade driving into the beastbonw of the werewolf. With a twist, he opened the ribs of his enemy.

"You really shouldn't take on a high blood vampire, Werewolf" smirked Michaelis Laplace, as he pulled his sword free. The werewolf gave a raspy sigh and fell dead, its organs spilling out. Michaelis swiped his sword and took the werewolf's head as a trophy, as he trudged towards the Jarl's longhouse.

(Well, ya can either start in Falkreath, to immediately jump into the story, or start somewhere else. I don't recommend you start too far though.)