Legend of Krystal Forums

by **Stickasensi** » Wed Nov 06, 2013 11:53 pm

Ok guys here is where youll post your CS.
1. DO NOT post you CS here if you have not been notified of acception
2.I will post a Spell Book here so you guys may reference it as needed, and spells will be added upon discovery.
3. For the most part i will be the only person to post here due to it merely being a CS list/GM data dump
Cyrodill Map

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: Spellbook.jpg (159.14 KiB) Viewed 1330 times

Tome Of Spells

Alteration

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Destruction

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Illusion

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Restoration

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Conjuration

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by **Grape Me** » Thu Nov 07, 2013 3:33 am

Level: 1

HP: 100

MP: 150

Exp: 0/50

Name: Anita Tecier

Race: Altmer (High Elf)

Description:

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Background:

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Anita is a high elf who spent her young age in the outskirts of Cloudrest, a city on the Summerset Isles. She was a part of a secret organization called "The Order of Flames". Her parents were middle-class traders who were surviving on selling enchanting materials and tools. Ever since she was born, her father Aldaril trained her in the ways of magic, despite her mother's opposition. She wanted her to live a happy, family life as a trader.
Anita progressed very rapidly and shown much talent for magic in her training. When she turned 16, her father decided to send her to the military academy, stating that he had nothing else to teach her, nothing new to show her.

Military academy was a hard part of her life. Since the academy mostly consisted of weapon-wielding warriors, she was constantly being mocked and bullied for being a mage.
"You think you can actually achieve anything with your fancy magic? Few resistance potions and you're worthless, good for nothing" they told her. This eventually proven to be true. She was defeated in almost all the battles at the academy, and was making no significant progress. Until she met Leo, a fellow mage on the academy. Leo observed Anita ever since she came to the academy, it was most unusual to him since he was the only mage on the academy until then. He saw himself in her, in all her defeats, and decided to help her. He approached her one morning, with a potion in his hand. "Here, drink this, it should help you in your next battle", he told her and left immediately.
Anita's next battle was set to be with Tauryon Fireheart, the youngest member of a renown warrior family.
He spent most of his previous days bragging about how he got set up with Anita, how he got to progress the easy way. At the beginning of the battle, Anita drank the potion Leo gave her without even thinking what it could be. As the battle began, Tauryon started approaching her saying: "You're mine, filthy mage". Anita was scared, frightened to death. She felt like nothing changed. Tauryon had already approached her close enough to hit her and she didn't know how to defend herself. She suffered a heavy blow to the chest and fell on the floor. Tauryon turned around and started walking away, pointing to the judge how the battle is over. But it wasn't. Anita got back on her feet, channeled a fire spell in the form of a ball and aimed it directly towards Tauryon. Tauryon got struck by it and fell unconscious immediately. She realized that the potion Leo gave her amplified the power of her magic somehow. It was her first victory in almost half a year. She eventually grew stronger as each day passed, along with her new friend and mentor Leo.

Eventually, however, these happy times would pass.

In her later years in the academy, she was politically a moderate. While Anita did not doubt that her race was superior to all others, and rightfully deserved to rule Tamriel, she felt that the Thalmor's methods were too extreme. She believed that given time, the lesser races would acknowledge Altmer superiority. They would gladly accept Altmer guidance, and her race would become the mentors and leaders of the rest of Tamriel. She made the mistake of voicing these opinions, which put her under Thalmor surveillance. When the Great War broke out she openly criticized it, and the Thalmor, for making a terrible blunder. The next thing she knew she was in prison, along with everyone else who made the mistake of speaking out against the Thalmor. She spent the entire war in prison, and languished there for many years afterward. Finally she was tried in absentia for treason, found guilty, and exiled. Her final moments before her departure with her family and her mentor. "I shall return," she promised them, even if she was unsure of herself. Anita was put on the first ship out, givin what belongings were taken from her before being imprisoned. She and the rest of the exiles were left at Elsweyr. Having no desire to remain in Thalmor-allied territory, she made her way north to Cyrodil. This is where her journey begins. Being imprisoned for those years, she hopes to reawaken her abilities in the magical arts.

Inventory:
100 Gold
Elegant Altmer Wear - 3 Armor
5 health potions
5 mana potions
Elven Dagger - 8 base damage

Skill Levels

Combat
Archery: 15
Block: 15
Heavy Armor: 15
One-handed: 15
Smithing: 15
Two-handed: 15

Magic
Alteration: 20
Conjuration: 20
Destruction: 20
Enchanting: 20
Illusion: 25
Restoration: 20

Stealth
Alchemy: 15
Light Armor: 15
Lockpicking: 15
Pickpocket: 15
Sneak: 15
Speech: 15

Known Spells:
Healing
Flames
Sparks
Conjure Familiar

Skills/Passives:
Highborn - Regenerate 25% of the character's maximum magicka for one post
Elegant Altmer Wear - Magicka regenerate at 75% faster

by **[Brand_Name]** » Mon Nov 11, 2013 12:22 am

Level: 1

Exp:0/50

HP: 100

MP: 100

Name: Caslandra Ivywood

Race: Bosmer

Age: 60 (which, in elven years, is young)

Description (Picture or Words):

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Background:

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Everything changed her 50th birthday.

Caslandra awoke, stretched out, strapped on her hunting outfit, and set off to find breakfast. She and her father had planned this previously; typically, he found their food, but today, now that she was considered an adult in their small rural village in Valenwood, she could take the job on herself. Her father had lent her his personal bow for the job, Armala, and a quiver of 20 arrows. She should only need one, but he gave her the extra in case she ran into trouble.

Her attempts at finding food went unrewarded for quite some time, but after what seemed to be ages, she heard peaceful noise that she couldn't quite describe up ahead. She snuck up behind a rock overlooking the vale where the noise was coming from, and peered over at soon-to-be-breakfast.

She nearly collapsed from awe when she saw what was really in front of her. There stood a snow elf, highlighted by a streak of sunlight that seemed to come from the heavens themselves; he was, and simultaneously was not, there. Just like the sound he was making, he seemed translucent in a way that could not be articulated. She didn't understand- the snow elves had been gone for millenia; only the falmer existed in modern days in place of the ancient snow elves. And to make matters worse- or better, depending on how she looked at her situation- he was looking right at her.

"Caslandra. I must ask of you a favor with consequences you may not ever understand. I am an incaration of Auri-El, and your aid will prevent the loss of our precious sun, that which gives all life. I ask you to find my bow, and deliver it to its proper resting place, to await its next owner."

And with that he disappeared. Nothing to help her more than vague commands. She didn't know what to do, what to say.

She returned to her home, and decided that it may be best to simply keep quit about the situation, at least for a while. She looked throughout the whole house, but her mother, father, and brother were nowhere to be found. But the smallest sound from behind her made her turn around and ready her blade. To her dismay, a falmer had jumped and was nearly on top of her already! Without hesitation, she plunged her knife Nagoori into the creature's abdomen. She gazed deep into its eyes, and thought she saw a resemblance to someone she once knew, but couldn't quite place it. Out of nowhere, the monster burst into dust which flew away with the wind. She followed it with her eyes and spotted two more falmer in the distance. They hadn't seen her yet; she readied her bow and sent two arrows, one after the other, into her unsuspecting victims. Both arrows flew true, and struck the falmer dead. But just like the first one, when these two died, they turned into mere dust, as if they had never been there at all.

Caslandra took years to think about this incident. She never found her parents or brother. She never made more contact with Auri-El, or his apparition. She knew that her race, the Bosmer, shared a piety with the snow elves towards Auri-El as the creator of all things. And, equally important, she knew that the snow elves were natives of Skyrim, back before they became the falmer. What she couldn't figure out was the connection between Auri-El's bow, the snow elves and falmer, and herself. She remembered that Auri-El had told her that she "might not ever understand." But after ten years of silence, she packed her bags and set off for Cyrodil, and took a boat to the city of Anvil. She hoped to discover the true past of Auri-El, and knew full well that she would need to cross into the cold, unforgiving land of Skyrim before her quest was finished.

Inventory:

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Skill Levels

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note to GM regarding sexual interaction:

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by **CrimsonNutcase37** » Mon Nov 11, 2013 2:02 am

Level: 1

Exp:0/50

Name: Myr'Sun Large-Muscles

Race: Argonian

Description (Picture or Words):

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Myr'Sun stands at average height for an Argonian, with dark grey scales with crimson red undertones, though his body is more muscular thean normal Argonians, showing great physical strength. He had sharp horns sprouting from the back of his head, with two horns curved around the sides of his head. His eyes are a vibrant, almost hypnotic green with lizard-like slits
http://www.deviantart.com/art/The-Argon ... -282356313
[I do not own image, Image belongs to IsangKapatid]

Background: Myr'Sun was born in Black Marsh as an Argonian egg, but was stolen as an egg and raised as a Khajiit in Elsweyr. Everybody hated him, except his foster parents, who raised him as their own, teaching him how to be sneaky and stealthy. The young cats bullied him and beat him up. His parents were probably the only Khajiit he liked, maybe even loved...as his family. On one brisk Mondas morning a group of Orc bandits raided his village and home. They came in, shortly after Myr'Sun's Khajiit mother told him to go hide in the attic, and they murdered his foster parents. He watched from the safety of a small window in the attic facing down. His foster parents weren't given the chance to draw a weapon. After the raid, Myr'Sun went downstairs and looked at his parents, he was only 12 counting in Nord years. His father had sword slashes in his face and across his chest. When he looked at his mother, her eyes were open and she was breathing slightly. He ran to her and looked into her eyes. She spoke to him in 1 sentence before she died. "Myr'Sun, you must go to the province known as Cyrodil in the north, go to the Imperial City and meet a man named Ja-ree he will take care of you. Then...she died. He cried and hugged her lifeless body for what seemed like hours, heart broken and... alone. After some time, Myr'Sun slowly recovering, he grabbed his pack and went downstairs. He arrived in the armory, grabbing his father's dagger, and whatever belongings he felt he still needed. There was always the guilt he feels to this day about leaving his mother and father in the state they were, not giving them a burial... But during the time he ran, went outside... and ran.

At the age of physical maturity for an Argonian, Myr'Sun was an odd example of an Argonian. Where a normal Argonian had a thin, lean figure to help with their sneaking and stealthy ways, Myr'Sun had a broad, powerful figure and while his stealth skills were not as good as other young ones, he could still be very sneaky, finding a love for dual-wielding blades, whether they be daggers or sword, though he held a mild disdain for archery as in his opinion, there were many being in Tamriel who had gotten away with a surprise arrow to the shoulder, but very few who could survive a blade slicing through their flesh, though he did admit that the bow was a useful weapon. He held a larger disdain for magicks however, as in his eyes, while there are some magic and enchantments that can be useful, knowing how to create large, flashy spells when you are supposed to be hidden and unspotted was as useful as teaching a Khajit to bark.

Inventory:

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Skill Levels

Combat

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Magic

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Stealth

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Special Abilities:

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by **ChibiKitsune** » Sat Nov 16, 2013 2:46 am

Level: 1

Exp:0/50
Name:
Khyt'ti Rassinja

Race:
Khajiit

Description (Picture or Words):

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Background:

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Khyt'ti was born on the road with her family's caravan. She lived quite a happy life with her parents and sister. But then everything changed. When she was only ten years old her caravan was attacked by bandits. Her mother and father were killed, but she and her sister were spared. Later she would come to find out that the young Dunmer, whom her parents had taken in, had betrayed her new-found family.

So Khyt'ti, now in the employ of these bandits, was forced to do as they said. No matter the order. And she was only a child at this time. So for several years she worked under them, slowly learning their trade and all their tactics. She took whatever abuse was thrown at her silently, every day gaining more and more of a hatred of her oppressors and also of the Dunmer. Mostly they had her do little menial tasks; cooking, cleaning up after them, the usual. But once she came of age they began to see her as something different then just a servant. They now noticed the small but perky breasts, her lanky but beautiful form. The young girl they had kidnapped had become a woman.

So now the lewd orders started. As before, Khyt'ti took them in stride, simply waiting for the right chance to escape. And soon enough she found it. One of the men had thought to have her on his own. This was a mistake on his part. She pretended yet again to enjoy herself, but then just as he was the most vulnerable she pulled his own dagger out on him. The man died on the spot. Without any thought to the consequences she took his gear and bolted. No one saw her make her escape.

The Khajiit is now on her own. She watches every day for any trace of the bandits. They will likely find her again. Yet, she has to wonder what they do now. Are they still a disorganized mess? Have they formed into a better group? Does the group even exist anymore? These thoughts cross her mind often. And so does something they mentioned while she was still among them. A blackmarket of slaves? What exactly had happened to Cyrodil? And had not slavery been banned even in Morrowind?

Khyt'ti has taken to thievery do to both her time with the bandits and the few possessions she has. Yet there is one odd thing she has taken to. Her targets all seem to be Dunmer. And more specifically Dunmer women. She also seems, if she doesn't take from the Dunmer, to only steal from men.

((Note: despite the time with the bandits Khyt'ti is still a virgin.))

Inventory:
Iron dagger: 4 dmg, leather armor: 26 protection, leather boots: 7 protection 100 gold, 10 lock picks, 5 minor health potions.

Skills

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Regarding sexual interaction:

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by **Cookies** » Sat Nov 16, 2013 11:41 am

Level: 1
Experience: 0/50
Inventory:
- Novice robes, +50% magicka regeneration
- basic wooden stave
- 50 gold

Name: Zanik Hlaalu
Race: Dunmer
- 50% fire resistance
- fire cloak (once a day)
profession: healer
Age: 27
Birthsign: Atronach
(stumped magicka regen, 50% spell absorb)

Description

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Background

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Some people have more reason to complain than others. This truth wasn't hard to swallow for Zanik, for his entire life has been one catastrophe after the other. But wounds heal as they say, and pain makes you stronger. How strong exactly would be anyone's guess, but Zanik has a right mind to eventually turn his anger into a mighty weapon to behold.

Zanik was never your average dunmer boy. Since birth he was gifted with an affinity for magic -in particular the restoration school- but cursed by his birthsign 'the atronach' which kept him from regenerating magicka. He stubbernly refused to give up on his affinity to casting spells, and in fact made others hurl fireballs at him just so he could hurl them back. While others saw his enthousiasm for a fondness of pain, he instead decided to overcome the hurdle his birthsign proved to be.

The great house Hlaalu is a great house no more.
While Vvardenfell was destroyed around 4th-5th year by an enormous eruption of the Red Mountain, the capital of House Hlaalu, Narsis, was on the continent of Morrowind. However, Argonians invaded southern part of the province, where Narsis is located, in a 6th year of Fourth Era.
During the Oblivion Crisis, the Empire withdrew most of its armies from Morrowind to defend Cyrodiil. While House Redoran was able to organize the Dunmer into an effective fighting force against the Daedra and eventually the Argonians, the Dunmer people's hatred of the Empire greatly increased. Since they couldn't take their anger out on the Empire itself, they targeted House Hlaalu, who had always been staunch Imperial supporters. The other Great Houses revoked House Hlaalu's Great House status. The House fell into obscurity due to their new-found pariah until it became a mere shadow of its former power. The last thing they wanted was some distant cousin making a fool of himself with his childish attempt of magic, not while the very house itself was struggling not to fall entirely. There was little Zanik could do as his mother disowned him, and his father pretended like he had never seen him before. They had no son, they told him. He was dead to them.

With nowhere else to go, Zanik turned to the Mages guild in cyrodiil. It had always been a dream of his to study under the wisest of mages the land had to offer, and reluctantly they had taken him in. But his condition soon met a wall of animosity- not in the least for choosing one of the 'lesser' schools, restoration, which was severely looked down upon. Eventually he was forced to leave to roam cyrodiil as a hedge wizard, where his ability of healing (that is, until his magicka ran out) would be more appreciated.

Skills

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by **Sortaix** » Fri Nov 22, 2013 3:06 pm

Level: 1

Exp:0/50

Name: Say'lora Kraytan'ya

Age: 19

Race: Khajiit

Description (Picture or Words):

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Background:

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Inventory:

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Skill Levels

Combat
Archery:20
Block:15
Heavy Armor:15
One-handed:25
Smithing:15
Two-handed:15

Magic
Alteration:15
Conjuration:15
Destruction:15
Enchanting:15
Illusion:15
Restoration:15

Stealth
Alchemy:15
Light Armor:25
Lockpicking:20
Pickpocket:15
Sneak:20
Speech:15

Regarding Sexual Interactions

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by **Stickasensi** » Fri Nov 29, 2013 2:51 am

Inventory Changes:

Crimson

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Chibi

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Brand

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by **Stickasensi** » Fri Nov 29, 2013 2:51 am

Again pay no mind to this, this is just me keeping check on status's

by **Stickasensi** » Sun Dec 22, 2013 10:34 pm

Level: 1

Zues Kabob

Name: Jamgon Chorster

Race: Orsimer

Age: 24

Description: A pale green color alights his skin, and despite being of Orcish heritage some would call him handsome. He is tall and strong, his bulging muscles perfect for carrying his heavy armor and swinging the various weapons he carries. He has dark brown eyes and short black hair, and his chiseled jaw highlights his strength.

Background: Jamgon had as normal a childhood as one can when your parents families are mortal enemies and when you have live a nomadic life. He always wanted to be strong, so he wouldn't be pushed around by guards and so he could keep his parents and younger sister safe. When he entered his teen years, Jamgon started to train with the Imperial Legion, who were much more accepting of Orsimer. Over time he gained skill with his weaponry and heavy armor, and through his fascination with combat in all its facets he also spent a year as a blacksmith's apprentice. Through his hard work in the Imperial Legion, he earned the respect of his officers and his comrades though he never advanced past a basic legionnaire.

One morning, Jamgon woke up outside the Legion camp, nude but for a loincloth. He quickly looked around, finding naught but a stick to defend himself with. Exploring the surroundings, he found himself lost in the country.

Inventory: Large Stick (2 handed weapon)

Skill levels:

Combat
Archery: 15/100
Block: 20/100
Heavy Armor: 25/100
One-handed: 20/100
Smithing: 20/100
Two-handed: 20/100

Magic
Alteration: 15/100
Conjuration: 15/100
Destruction: 15/100
Enchanting: 20/100
Illusion: 15/100
Restoration: 15/100

Stealth
Alchemy: 15/100
Light Armor: 15/100
Lockpicking: 15/100
Pickpocket: 15/100
Sneak: 15/100
Speech: 15/100

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