Post by Deceit on Aug 30, 2009 22:53:09 GMT -5
Name: Klariov Causte Manwicky
Age: 100
Sex: None. ( Previously Male. )
Sexuality: Heterosexuality.
Race: Undead Imperial.
Birthplace: Imperial.
Current Home: Cyrodiil; Falwart caves. ( Made up location in Cyrodiil. )
Profession: Klariov has no set profession. Being undead, he needs no food, water, or any clothing. He's a bit of a free-spirit as well, and he's totally crazy. So I'd say his profession is...Amusing himself and being annoying.
Height: Five feet and six inches.
Weight: 40 lbs ( This is because he has no body fat or muscles. )
Positive Traits: He's undead, that counts for something right? He's enjoys life wherever he goes, and isn't easy to literally anger, though he may joke around and pretend to be angry.
Negative Traits: I'm going to have to go with evil, mean, crazy, and slightly retarded. Being undead for eighty years of his life, he's lost all sense of mortality. He kills for fun, and laughs wickedly and coarsely afterwards, and once decapitated a man in jest, forgetting that "Mortals can die like that."
Likes: Amusing himself; creeping out others; massacre; Madness; Sheogorath; and Aedra.
Dislikes: Monkeys. The Law/structure/order. Hippies/killjoys/peace activists.
Talents: Sneaking. Killing. Stealing. Joking.
Inabilities: Social interactions.
Hobbies: Going into public and hanging himself from a large ceiling until the guards come, swaying back and forth singing a merry li'l song, freaking others out. Then he runs off before the guards can hurt him. He also collects shiny things, and goats. He is currently trying to gather one hundred goats for sacrifice to Sheogorath.
Strengths: His wit, his will, and his stealth.
Fears: Apples; heights; running water; crosses; and well organized enemy regiments.
Pleasures: The amusing face on an innocent bystanders face when you ask if they need a hand and hold out the severed arm of your last victim.
Appearance: Klariov is made out of bones. He has no flesh, meat, eyes, tongue, or any such human things except for a very strong bone materials and healthy marrow. His bones are the color of crimson red; some say this is because of his various kills and subsequent bathing in his enemies blood. ( He's crazy, so of course I actually mean it. ) Klariov's bones are actual stained red by fire tinging.
Attire: Scraps of his former clothes, papery and barely clingy. he also wears leather pauldrons, bracers, and greaves. A steel helmet; open faced.
Markings or Scars: Well, the complete lack of bodily fluids, cells, or anything that would be needed for scar tissue is technically a scar. His bones are tinged blood red.
Items: His armor. Everything else is situational dependent.
Spells:
Conjuration: Summon Ally: He can summon up to two skeletons from others realms. He repeatedly summons the same ones, and are on first name basis with them. They arrive and fight until slain or the dawn of the next day. Huge drain on magicka.
Weapon: A very long knife, with a jeweled hilt wrapped in leather. The blades material is of standard silver; but it is sharp and dependent. This weapon is magically imbued as well; a creation of Sheogorath from the times he was the Mad God, instead of Jyggalag. The enchantment is powerful necromancy, keeping Klariov alive so long as the jewel on the hilt remains unbroken.
Speciality: Stealth
Allegiance: N/A
Faction: Cult of Sheogorath ( Fallen )
Rank: Leader.
Bio: Klariov was born in Cyrodiil. His mother and father were pure bred Imperials. His Dad was high up in the legion; a high-end political adviser. His mother was the champion of a local fort. Of course, Klariov was taught the importance of values such as honesty, fairness, and caring. He was well versed by his father in politics and his mother in justice.
When he was ten; he decided he began to slowly view things differently. Klariov could be considered as many as an intellectual. He looked around him, to see how everyone, without question, served the emperor. Everyone served their governments. He compared the people who followed the orderly ways of Uriel Septim to domesticated animals. They moved within the system without fear or question, without assurance or anything. They were herded straight through, and put to work. If they weren't needed anymore politically, they weren't used. Or they were killed.
And even if you set a lamb free, its spirit is broken. It would simply stare at the freedom, and not know what to do. Klariov hated this structure. He hated society. He hated the restrictions. He wanted some sort of Anarchy. So, he dedicated himself to such a life.
When he was fifteen, Klariov crept out of the capital, and took to the back roads of Cyrodiil. He joined a group of highwaymen, not really knowing what to do.
The Highwaymen didn't last long. A month into their raids, a well organized band of troopers came to break them up. It was a slaughter, and Klariov cautiously crept away from them, fleeing into the wilds of Cyrodiil, where he lived off the land. He was alone for a very long time. Almost a year. Moving from area to area, creating small shelters, hunting, and collecting berries for food. Klariov's wildlife adventure was rather unimportant to his living. He didn't enjoy the harmony of nature, either, he found. Everything was too perfect, everything was structured.
Klariov enjoyed messing with the local wild populations; messing with the food chain, causing catastrophes. He was a misfit. It wasn't event that he vied for attention; he simply had a natural affinity for causing chaos. Sheogorath saw him, and knew his talent was wasted.
When Klariov was sixteen he was approached by a Scamp. There was a quaint battle, and he slayed it. However, the Scamp had left behind a ring after dying it. Klariov picked up the ring, looking at it oddly. It was enchanted. The ring teleported him. He did not leave Cyrodiil. He arrived in an unknown cave; now known to him as the Falwart Caves.
These caves were infested with eight followers of Sheogorath, and a large statue at the very rear of it. Klariov witnessed the antics of this rather uncouth band, and knew he enjoyed it. There was no structure, no real rank. Just a leader, and a god. A god that asked little to nothing, and rewarded as he saw fit. They also had a large band of Goblins, native to this cave. The Goblins obeyed the commands of the eight cultists, and Klariov was psyched at having such followers.
He lived here, worshipping and performing odd tasks, strange rituals, none of which were really worth mentioning. A few pranks were rather grand, and a few times the group would go out with their band of Goblins, and raid traveling caravans, far from their caves. The caves were far, far south inside of Cyrodiil, almost at the southernmost section.
With the raids, they managed to keep themselves alive; well stocked and well equipped. They also managed to remain secret, never raiding close to their own place, and more importantly, leaving no survivors.
When he was twenty, Klariov noticed that they had a great number of goblins, their small tribe having multiplied. And, then, Klariov decided that he would begin his campaign of Anarchy. An attempt to free this world of wretched structure and government! He was naive, and though he knew he couldn't do it, he prayed to Sheogorath for the assistance of his summons.
Klariov planned on attacking Leyawiin; him and his small band wished to conquer it. Their caves were on the river just east of it, and it would be relatively easy to move their troops in. They waited for a storm, a day which Sheogorath could be summoned. Sheogorath did not personally appear except to watch, and secretly from afar. He did, however, send several Golden Saints in for assistance.
The battle failed miserably. The Goblins were massacred, barely making it passed the front gates. Only the cultists themselves and the Golden Saints made it into the heart of the city, fighting off several guards. Everyone died, Klariov was the last on to go. He was slain by a guard in heavy armor. His body was dragged out, along with all of the others, and burned in a large pile. Sheogorath had a random moment of pity, kindness, and a benign plot.
There are only four KNOWN artifacts of Sheogorath in Nirn. On that day, he made another. It was unknown to all but Klariov. A magical weapon that resurrected the bones of Klariov and kept him alive as a skeleton. Unfortunately, the fire did irreversible damage to his skeleton...
Klariov returned, shamed, to the Falwart Caves. Sheogorath did not explain why he had revived the odd boy, he merely said to 'start anew'. Klariov bitterly began to raise and train the surviving Goblins of the tribe. He continued this trend for a very long time, eventually having to expand the caves. He worked his whole life overseeing the project of digging out a larger cavern; or at least overseeing the Goblins digging and leading them. Occasionally he would go out and return to the town he'd tried to conquer.
A rumor spread about the town that once a year the skeleton would appear above the town, hanging from a rope singing a strange song. Of course, the rumors were true; except that it wasn't a single appearance a year. Klariov had many appearances in this town, usually only showing himself to one person, and using his stealth to get around.
He continued the trend of raising an army; gathering supplies and such, for several decades without incident.
Then Sheogorath's curse was lifted and he turned to Jygallag. Needless to say, Klariov was crushed. He came up with a benign theory that if he sacrificed enough goats Sheogorath, resurrect-or of his life, would return to him. He figured the mass sacrifice would cause a stir within Jygallag. Thinking that the chaotic display would stir some distant memory within the prince of order.
Crushed but not defeated, Klariov dedicates himself to the defeat of Cyrodiil and all organized government, hell-bent on turning the world into Anarchy. His first stop would be Leyawiin.
When the peace began to fall, and Tamriel felt a great schism within it, Klariov was overjoyed. Chaos may once more ensue! But he knew he couldn't fight all of these factions, so instead he would have to join them. In particular, he privied Orcs and Khajjit. The choice seemed obvious, he would help Elsweyr conquer Cyrodiil!
Currently, he establishes relations through various visits with Elsweyr, trying to forge some sort of alliance.
DONE!
Age: 100
Sex: None. ( Previously Male. )
Sexuality: Heterosexuality.
Race: Undead Imperial.
Birthplace: Imperial.
Current Home: Cyrodiil; Falwart caves. ( Made up location in Cyrodiil. )
Profession: Klariov has no set profession. Being undead, he needs no food, water, or any clothing. He's a bit of a free-spirit as well, and he's totally crazy. So I'd say his profession is...Amusing himself and being annoying.
Height: Five feet and six inches.
Weight: 40 lbs ( This is because he has no body fat or muscles. )
Positive Traits: He's undead, that counts for something right? He's enjoys life wherever he goes, and isn't easy to literally anger, though he may joke around and pretend to be angry.
Negative Traits: I'm going to have to go with evil, mean, crazy, and slightly retarded. Being undead for eighty years of his life, he's lost all sense of mortality. He kills for fun, and laughs wickedly and coarsely afterwards, and once decapitated a man in jest, forgetting that "Mortals can die like that."
Likes: Amusing himself; creeping out others; massacre; Madness; Sheogorath; and Aedra.
Dislikes: Monkeys. The Law/structure/order. Hippies/killjoys/peace activists.
Talents: Sneaking. Killing. Stealing. Joking.
Inabilities: Social interactions.
Hobbies: Going into public and hanging himself from a large ceiling until the guards come, swaying back and forth singing a merry li'l song, freaking others out. Then he runs off before the guards can hurt him. He also collects shiny things, and goats. He is currently trying to gather one hundred goats for sacrifice to Sheogorath.
Strengths: His wit, his will, and his stealth.
Fears: Apples; heights; running water; crosses; and well organized enemy regiments.
Pleasures: The amusing face on an innocent bystanders face when you ask if they need a hand and hold out the severed arm of your last victim.
Appearance: Klariov is made out of bones. He has no flesh, meat, eyes, tongue, or any such human things except for a very strong bone materials and healthy marrow. His bones are the color of crimson red; some say this is because of his various kills and subsequent bathing in his enemies blood. ( He's crazy, so of course I actually mean it. ) Klariov's bones are actual stained red by fire tinging.
Attire: Scraps of his former clothes, papery and barely clingy. he also wears leather pauldrons, bracers, and greaves. A steel helmet; open faced.
Markings or Scars: Well, the complete lack of bodily fluids, cells, or anything that would be needed for scar tissue is technically a scar. His bones are tinged blood red.
Items: His armor. Everything else is situational dependent.
Spells:
Conjuration: Summon Ally: He can summon up to two skeletons from others realms. He repeatedly summons the same ones, and are on first name basis with them. They arrive and fight until slain or the dawn of the next day. Huge drain on magicka.
Weapon: A very long knife, with a jeweled hilt wrapped in leather. The blades material is of standard silver; but it is sharp and dependent. This weapon is magically imbued as well; a creation of Sheogorath from the times he was the Mad God, instead of Jyggalag. The enchantment is powerful necromancy, keeping Klariov alive so long as the jewel on the hilt remains unbroken.
Speciality: Stealth
Allegiance: N/A
Faction: Cult of Sheogorath ( Fallen )
Rank: Leader.
Bio: Klariov was born in Cyrodiil. His mother and father were pure bred Imperials. His Dad was high up in the legion; a high-end political adviser. His mother was the champion of a local fort. Of course, Klariov was taught the importance of values such as honesty, fairness, and caring. He was well versed by his father in politics and his mother in justice.
When he was ten; he decided he began to slowly view things differently. Klariov could be considered as many as an intellectual. He looked around him, to see how everyone, without question, served the emperor. Everyone served their governments. He compared the people who followed the orderly ways of Uriel Septim to domesticated animals. They moved within the system without fear or question, without assurance or anything. They were herded straight through, and put to work. If they weren't needed anymore politically, they weren't used. Or they were killed.
And even if you set a lamb free, its spirit is broken. It would simply stare at the freedom, and not know what to do. Klariov hated this structure. He hated society. He hated the restrictions. He wanted some sort of Anarchy. So, he dedicated himself to such a life.
When he was fifteen, Klariov crept out of the capital, and took to the back roads of Cyrodiil. He joined a group of highwaymen, not really knowing what to do.
The Highwaymen didn't last long. A month into their raids, a well organized band of troopers came to break them up. It was a slaughter, and Klariov cautiously crept away from them, fleeing into the wilds of Cyrodiil, where he lived off the land. He was alone for a very long time. Almost a year. Moving from area to area, creating small shelters, hunting, and collecting berries for food. Klariov's wildlife adventure was rather unimportant to his living. He didn't enjoy the harmony of nature, either, he found. Everything was too perfect, everything was structured.
Klariov enjoyed messing with the local wild populations; messing with the food chain, causing catastrophes. He was a misfit. It wasn't event that he vied for attention; he simply had a natural affinity for causing chaos. Sheogorath saw him, and knew his talent was wasted.
When Klariov was sixteen he was approached by a Scamp. There was a quaint battle, and he slayed it. However, the Scamp had left behind a ring after dying it. Klariov picked up the ring, looking at it oddly. It was enchanted. The ring teleported him. He did not leave Cyrodiil. He arrived in an unknown cave; now known to him as the Falwart Caves.
These caves were infested with eight followers of Sheogorath, and a large statue at the very rear of it. Klariov witnessed the antics of this rather uncouth band, and knew he enjoyed it. There was no structure, no real rank. Just a leader, and a god. A god that asked little to nothing, and rewarded as he saw fit. They also had a large band of Goblins, native to this cave. The Goblins obeyed the commands of the eight cultists, and Klariov was psyched at having such followers.
He lived here, worshipping and performing odd tasks, strange rituals, none of which were really worth mentioning. A few pranks were rather grand, and a few times the group would go out with their band of Goblins, and raid traveling caravans, far from their caves. The caves were far, far south inside of Cyrodiil, almost at the southernmost section.
With the raids, they managed to keep themselves alive; well stocked and well equipped. They also managed to remain secret, never raiding close to their own place, and more importantly, leaving no survivors.
When he was twenty, Klariov noticed that they had a great number of goblins, their small tribe having multiplied. And, then, Klariov decided that he would begin his campaign of Anarchy. An attempt to free this world of wretched structure and government! He was naive, and though he knew he couldn't do it, he prayed to Sheogorath for the assistance of his summons.
Klariov planned on attacking Leyawiin; him and his small band wished to conquer it. Their caves were on the river just east of it, and it would be relatively easy to move their troops in. They waited for a storm, a day which Sheogorath could be summoned. Sheogorath did not personally appear except to watch, and secretly from afar. He did, however, send several Golden Saints in for assistance.
The battle failed miserably. The Goblins were massacred, barely making it passed the front gates. Only the cultists themselves and the Golden Saints made it into the heart of the city, fighting off several guards. Everyone died, Klariov was the last on to go. He was slain by a guard in heavy armor. His body was dragged out, along with all of the others, and burned in a large pile. Sheogorath had a random moment of pity, kindness, and a benign plot.
There are only four KNOWN artifacts of Sheogorath in Nirn. On that day, he made another. It was unknown to all but Klariov. A magical weapon that resurrected the bones of Klariov and kept him alive as a skeleton. Unfortunately, the fire did irreversible damage to his skeleton...
Klariov returned, shamed, to the Falwart Caves. Sheogorath did not explain why he had revived the odd boy, he merely said to 'start anew'. Klariov bitterly began to raise and train the surviving Goblins of the tribe. He continued this trend for a very long time, eventually having to expand the caves. He worked his whole life overseeing the project of digging out a larger cavern; or at least overseeing the Goblins digging and leading them. Occasionally he would go out and return to the town he'd tried to conquer.
A rumor spread about the town that once a year the skeleton would appear above the town, hanging from a rope singing a strange song. Of course, the rumors were true; except that it wasn't a single appearance a year. Klariov had many appearances in this town, usually only showing himself to one person, and using his stealth to get around.
He continued the trend of raising an army; gathering supplies and such, for several decades without incident.
Then Sheogorath's curse was lifted and he turned to Jygallag. Needless to say, Klariov was crushed. He came up with a benign theory that if he sacrificed enough goats Sheogorath, resurrect-or of his life, would return to him. He figured the mass sacrifice would cause a stir within Jygallag. Thinking that the chaotic display would stir some distant memory within the prince of order.
Crushed but not defeated, Klariov dedicates himself to the defeat of Cyrodiil and all organized government, hell-bent on turning the world into Anarchy. His first stop would be Leyawiin.
When the peace began to fall, and Tamriel felt a great schism within it, Klariov was overjoyed. Chaos may once more ensue! But he knew he couldn't fight all of these factions, so instead he would have to join them. In particular, he privied Orcs and Khajjit. The choice seemed obvious, he would help Elsweyr conquer Cyrodiil!
Currently, he establishes relations through various visits with Elsweyr, trying to forge some sort of alliance.
DONE!
