Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-10197675-20170202101117

This RP is abit weird/different, I know, but whatever, I like it. Hopefully it will work, enjoy :P

Nirn, a desolate and empty plain, ruled by the wind. Its reaches reduced to that of mostly debris and ash. Barren landscapes of death and ruin echoed among that of all species of life. Since the incident of Motoa, the face of the planet had changed forever, all races of beast, men and mer wiped. Whole animal and plant species destroyed. Those who had survived the initial impact only lingered as the destruction reeked and the agony began, driving those who still willed life to insanity. There was no light, only a grey dim darkness that beckoned above in the distant heavens, for the power of the sun had been diminished, all weather systems were set into a torrent mess. Only that of the wind survived, plus that of the enduring rain and snow, servants to the wind. Nature was now in control with the wind at the helm, no mortal governed the ways of regularity anymore within Nirn, their time had come.

Only a hand full were still alive, and those who were still breathing were extremely weak, two years after Motoa occurred, one Khajiit had dwelled within a cave within southern Skyrim surviving with a powerful will for most the time, focusing on one priority, survival. He didn’t know if he was the last, maybe more had survived, he did not care…

Arjoir felt his spine tingle once again as he looked out from his cave staring at the revolving grey clouds above, twisters and storms raged over the land as nature raged, tearing earth up from the ground and sending it high into the skies. The Khajiit did not step far from his cave most of the time, for he still wished to linger on, he didn’t want to give into the wind, he would never walk through the door of death freely, Arjoir grasped a hold of any slivers of hope that still could be in reach, so he lingered with that very sight hope that things would return to normality. But to turn things back and to prevent this destruction was now next too impossible, the damage had been done and Arjoir knew his days were seriously limited. The Khajiit was as thin as a stick, his diet consisted of that of the corpses of the dead of all species, including that of Men, Mer, Beasts and even the undead. To be a cannibal in these times was to be considered as a regularity within the basic instinct to survive. It was either eat and drink what you could find, or die, no matter how wasted the corpse, it must be eaton. This was the survival of the bravest and the wiser. Friendship didn’t exist within the Khajiit’s world any longer, anything or anyone he found alive would be considered a rare treat, and he would fight for his hunger to survive, as that was the only thing that mattered now. The Khajiit feared nothing, his old worries were gone, there wasn’t anything worth fearing anymore… except that of the wind. Since Motoa, the power and speed of the wind had increased dramatically. Its howls were deafening screams of anger, it pursued all within its grasp, the force of it had become sentient since that of the incident, it wasn’t a simple piece within the forces of nature anymore. Arjoir… anyone would stand no chance against its wrath, if one was to traverse open plains within its sight, they would be a fool wishing for death, one would have to sneak and try to hide from it. But you would have to be extremely skilled in sneak to do so.

The Khajiit stepped back into the cave, his wiry face poking out from its darkness, as flashes of lightning resembled that of the only type of natural light produced by the skies. And deafening roars of thunder were the closest to what the Khajiit would consider a voice of something that he did not consider an opportunity for a meal. Arjoir now respected the wind, for it was his governor. He would not attempt in facing it again…

Rules…

You can only have one character within this RP at one time. So only when your character dies can you create another.

No Dragonborn, no summoning Daedric princes or any of that, but you might be able to with my permission.

(This is more of a tip) Be careful, the wind is your biggest danger in this RP. I will kill any character, including mine, who cross the wind. This isn’t like a normal RP, expect your character to die if you encounter the wind.

Once your character is dead, they’re dead, not coming back.

I have the control to kill any character at any time.

I don’t know when the year is..

Don’t try to be op, you’ll just be wasting your time, the wind will take you.

Don’t be a silly billy and take this RP seriously, respect your fellow RPer and all that shiz. (No messin around!)

Enjoy yourself, really though if you don’t I will just be disappointed and have to take you.

If you don’t understand what’s going on… then don’t question it… or just ask

Create a CC if you want, keep it basic though, add a backstory if you wish, will enjoy reading 

There are no NPC’s, maybe a couple of survivors, but most are dead. That’s the same with animals too.

Be a mage, fighter, whatever. But be aware, the main point of this RP is survival, not fighting an evil antagonist of some sort, so yeah, just don’t put a lot of effort into really going into depth with your character’s skills/powers, as it won’t really matter, keep it simple.

The wind cannot be harmed/killed… of course.

More rules will be added; I am certain…

My CC, use this as a template if you wish 

Name: Arjoir

Race: Khajiit

Gender: Male

Age: 35

Weapon/Armour: Currently has no weapon nor piece of armour, the Khajiit adorns himself with an old tattered imperial tunic upon his torso and some ragged brown trousers. Arjoir is also barefooted, not currently owning any boots. Sanity: Draining on the edge of turning completely insane.

Backstory: Before Motoa struck Arjoir was an ‘important’ merchant to many hard working Men and Mer, he was based on the outskirts of Solitude. The Khajiit’s special goods were bought, and stolen by many. His trade within the Skooma market was revered throughout Skyrim by those who took the potion. Arjoir was a straight up trust-worthy seller, he didn’t mess with any of his contacts, each deal was fair and reliable. However, the Khajiit was rather lonely in his trade, the only time being he made contact with others was when they were purchasing his goods and that would be mostly done by note exchanges, so forth Arjoir did not have any close friends. So as Motoa struck and many deaths occurred, killing of all those who did not go into hiding, Arjoir was left without business and only surviving for his basic needs. The Khajiit had dwelled within a deep empty cave for most of his life within a nearby mountain next to Solitude, therefore at first he survived… but, the struggle then began. As food sources depleted under Motoa’s influence, those who had survived were having to resort to extreme measures to avoid death, that being cannibalising on any fellow survivor who strayed into their territory, or consuming the bodies of the dead, whatever their form. Some would even go to the lengths of self-cannibalisation, but Arjoir had not yet gotten that desperate…

Present Day...

Arjoir awoke with a scream from his bed of hay in his cave. He had dreamt that the wind had caught him, as he was standing at the entrance of his cave and was ripping him limb from limb, he tried calming himself as he splashed some bloody water against his face from a puddle in the centre of the cave. Arjoir didn’t know what the cause of Motoa was, but he knew it was some curse upon Nirn as the wind had turned into a savage beast literally overnight. The Khajiit witnessed it on the day it turned, birds were torn out the skies and spread upon the ground, Arjoir couldn’t even recognise them as birds anymore. Innocent animals of all species were tossed into the air and mashed into pulps as blood, which rained down turning vegetation and land space red. The strongest of trees were up rooted and snapped like twigs and those any weaker were obliterated in an instant. The only places of refuge away from the wind were deep in cover in caves, behind solid shelter or under water, however one did not know if the currents of the oceans had also turned. Arjoir wondered some days if there were still nobles deep within he Blue Palace, if the building had stood, but he would be a fool to try and venture out there to find out, plus he didn’t really care to much for safety, but that they would perhaps make quite a nice meal. The Khajiit looked out towards the entrance of his cave, noticing that the wind seemed to be quiet today, meaning it was a great day for chancing abit of scavenging. The Khajiit picked up a thin stick, should he need it in aid, and a headed out into the open… 