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https://forums.elderscrollsonline.com/en/discussion/668861
• PC/Mac: No maintenance – November 18
• ESO Store and Account System for maintenance – November 19, 9:00AM EST (14:00 UTC) - 6:00PM EST (23:00 UTC)
• PlayStation®: EU megaserver for maintenance – November 19, 23:00 UTC (6:00PM EST) - November 20, 17:00 UTC (12:00PM EST)
https://forums.elderscrollsonline.com/en/discussion/668861
Echelle DuBlanc
SeñorCinco
✭✭✭✭
Name: Born Alabard Larocque; aka Echelle DuBlanc; aka One-White-Scale; aka Wud-Ne
Race: Breton
DOB: 20th of Second Seed in 2E 560, on the eve of the Fire Festival
Age: 23 years old
Birthsign: Shadow
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 195 lbs
Stature: Muscular - Athletic
Marital Status: Single
Class: Nightblade
Armor Preference: Medium / Light
Weapon Specialization: Dual Wield Swords - Daggers - Archery
Occupational Prowess:
- Gorilla Assault Tactician
- Intelligence Agent
- Alchemist - specializing in poisons
- Assassin
NATALITY FATALITY
Echelle was born Alabard Larocque, unto a Breton merchant family. His father, Perard Larocque, merchant and brother to Master Chef Gilbard Larocque, the renowned author of...
"Cheeses of Tamriel"
His mother, Lucrezia Monet, was born 2E 542, by her single mother Elara Moniel. Lucrezia's father was believed to be an unknown Reachman during the invasion of High Rock in 2E 541. However, his true identity was that of a Morag Tong splinter agent that had fallen in love with a Dark Brotherhood Assassin.
Elara was targeted by the Dark Brotherhood for fraternizing with the nemesis organization and changed her name to escape their wrath and slip into hiding, where she would carry the term of her unborn child. Knowing she would forever be hunted down by the Dark Brotherhood of High Rock, Elara gave her newborn daughter to the unsuspecting Monet family, the owners of a small farm in the province of Northmoor. An early morning knock at the front door revealed an infant swaddled in a black shroud with a note that simply read... "Take care of my dear Lucrezia."
The Monet's would trade their crops and stock in the city of Northmoor. There, the coming of age Lucrezia would fall for a young merchant named Perard Larocque. Following a brief courtship, they would marry and on the eve of the Fire Festival would bear a son, Alabard. In the coming months, Perard makes an endeavour to take his beloved and child to seek their family fortune in the Market District of the Imperial City.
The Dark brotherhood has had insurgents working diligently over the years to root out the whereabouts of the illusive Elara Moniel. Their intelligence agents reported that the child lived and was abandoned to a farmhouse in the Northmoor province of High Rock.
Torturing the innocent family revealed the newlyweds intent and the Dark Brotherhood set out to intercept them, with explicit instructions to eradicate the decedent bloodline of Elara Moniel. The family was not spared and their bodies were hung from the gable of the small estate, naked and fleshed.
With family in tow, Perard crosses the border of Hammerfell and into the rolling hills of NW Cyrodiil. They hope to make it to the City of Coral by nightfall.
.. a hope that would not see it's desired end.
As the family descended the Colovian Highlands, so would the Dark Brotherhood descend upon them. Perard was removed from the wagon's helm by an arrow through the neck, that was launched from a distance so great, the wagon itself could be hidden behind a grain of salt. Fearing for her life, the young mother leaps form the carriage with the child in her arms and flees into the wood and seeks refuge behind a fallen tree.
Her restless newborn is threatening their location. Attentive to her surroundings, she picks the soft underbelly from a Mora Tapinella growing on the weathered stump. Her knowledge of Alchemy, taught to her by her only known mother, gave her son the only hope of survival.
She quickly rubs the fungus in the palm of her hand with some of her own saliva and rubs it upon the lips of the infant boy. He settles and drifts into a deep sleep. She's somewhat confident that it's a small enough dose as to not take the child's life. It is a risk she must endure. She conceals the child in the cover of fallen debris among the hollowed tree and the birthsign of the Shadow blankets the child.
With a heroic and unselfish leap of faith, she attempts to draw any attention from her dear baby boy. She screams out as she flees further into the forest.
... a moment passes and the screams abruptly subside.
"Cheeses of Tamriel"
His mother, Lucrezia Monet, was born 2E 542, by her single mother Elara Moniel. Lucrezia's father was believed to be an unknown Reachman during the invasion of High Rock in 2E 541. However, his true identity was that of a Morag Tong splinter agent that had fallen in love with a Dark Brotherhood Assassin.
Elara was targeted by the Dark Brotherhood for fraternizing with the nemesis organization and changed her name to escape their wrath and slip into hiding, where she would carry the term of her unborn child. Knowing she would forever be hunted down by the Dark Brotherhood of High Rock, Elara gave her newborn daughter to the unsuspecting Monet family, the owners of a small farm in the province of Northmoor. An early morning knock at the front door revealed an infant swaddled in a black shroud with a note that simply read... "Take care of my dear Lucrezia."
The Monet's would trade their crops and stock in the city of Northmoor. There, the coming of age Lucrezia would fall for a young merchant named Perard Larocque. Following a brief courtship, they would marry and on the eve of the Fire Festival would bear a son, Alabard. In the coming months, Perard makes an endeavour to take his beloved and child to seek their family fortune in the Market District of the Imperial City.
The Dark brotherhood has had insurgents working diligently over the years to root out the whereabouts of the illusive Elara Moniel. Their intelligence agents reported that the child lived and was abandoned to a farmhouse in the Northmoor province of High Rock.
Torturing the innocent family revealed the newlyweds intent and the Dark Brotherhood set out to intercept them, with explicit instructions to eradicate the decedent bloodline of Elara Moniel. The family was not spared and their bodies were hung from the gable of the small estate, naked and fleshed.
With family in tow, Perard crosses the border of Hammerfell and into the rolling hills of NW Cyrodiil. They hope to make it to the City of Coral by nightfall.
.. a hope that would not see it's desired end.
As the family descended the Colovian Highlands, so would the Dark Brotherhood descend upon them. Perard was removed from the wagon's helm by an arrow through the neck, that was launched from a distance so great, the wagon itself could be hidden behind a grain of salt. Fearing for her life, the young mother leaps form the carriage with the child in her arms and flees into the wood and seeks refuge behind a fallen tree.
Her restless newborn is threatening their location. Attentive to her surroundings, she picks the soft underbelly from a Mora Tapinella growing on the weathered stump. Her knowledge of Alchemy, taught to her by her only known mother, gave her son the only hope of survival.
She quickly rubs the fungus in the palm of her hand with some of her own saliva and rubs it upon the lips of the infant boy. He settles and drifts into a deep sleep. She's somewhat confident that it's a small enough dose as to not take the child's life. It is a risk she must endure. She conceals the child in the cover of fallen debris among the hollowed tree and the birthsign of the Shadow blankets the child.
With a heroic and unselfish leap of faith, she attempts to draw any attention from her dear baby boy. She screams out as she flees further into the forest.
... a moment passes and the screams abruptly subside.
ADVERSARY PARENTAGE
As the sun starts to melt away beyond the Eltheric Ocean a young Breton female by the name of Elara Moniel begins another training session in the bowels of the Daggerfall Sanctuary as a Dark Brotherhood initiate. Her teacher and mentor, an Argonian female named Skee 'Ra, is instructing her in the arts of the blade. She is battlescared and well aged to still be within the ranks of the Brotherhood. Nonetheless, she is one of the top officials as the Speaker of the Daggerfall chapter.
The cocksure young Breton has folly with the elderly Argonian.
ELARA : Are you certain you don't need to rest old one? You seem to be slo...
Before the Breton could utter the completing syllables, she finds herself seemingly teleported to a horizontal position on the damp and moldy bottom of the training room floor, cobbled with a mixture of stone and muddy residue. The skilled Argonian hovers atop her with one dagger buried in the crotch of Elara and the other angled down her body as the blade leaves a small red line across her milky white cheek.
What starts out as a series of clicks and hisses, evolves into the familiar spoken language.
SKEE 'RA : If you are ever in question of my potential speed, know that if self restraint is not exercised, the sound of my blades against one another would be heard before the sound of your pitiful excuse for a body hitting the ground. Uniting them would be as effortless as clapping my hands and your entire torso would be opened like a coin purse.
A lesson well learned, and Elara would never scorn the old Argonian again. The years pass and the young Breton grew into a highly skilled instrument of death. Skee 'Ra's position of Speaker is up to be challenged and she knows her time within the Brotherhood, as Speaker is short lived. The Listener is already conducting dialog with a seasoned Redgard Assassin, named Relldon. Elara's recent actions, or lack thereof, has drawn suspicion and idle banter among the ranks. What initially seemed to be a fling, of sorts, proved to be a lasting affair with the enemy. Skee 'Ra knows it will not end well, unless she can talk to Elara before the inevitable is put into motion.
Two days concluded and the expected comes to pass. The Listener calls upon Relldon and utters a single name into his ear...
- Elara Moniel -
While anticipation was paramount, twas to Skee 'Ra's surprize that Relldon had been chosen for Speaker. Alas, the Nightmother has spoken and thine will must be carried out. Relldon wastes no time and approaches Skee 'Ra with the appointed task. Reluctance is the unwelcomed emotion but she knows she has no choice. Her thoughts changes to hope in that she may prolong the execution of the frail little girl that first entered the harrowing halls of the Sanctuary. For the elderly Argonian had a warm spot in her cold and blackened heart.
As time passed, Relldon would assume the position as Speaker, full time. Skee 'Ra would stay on at the Sanctuary as an instructor and follow Elara closely and watch over her. All the while trying to throw suspicion off of her true intent and masking the truth with veils of deceit. Long after the child was born, Skee 'Ra would often observe the young Lucrezia and even enter the Monet household and sit by her bed at night. Mothering over what would have otherwise been a grandchild of her own, if for only a brief moment and then vanishing into the Northmoor night.
Convinced that the Brotherhood had given up on Elara years before, she was getting older and growing more careless. It has been almost 10 years since she last saw Elara. She only hoped that the once loved initiate had found piece. Her focus was on the young child, now young woman, that she so adored for the past 18 years.
Shrouded in commoner's clothes she attends the wedding of Lucrezia. And even poses as a midwife assistant during the birthing of the baby Breton boy, Alabard.
Over the next few months, it became known to the Brotherhood, the lineage that Elara has left behind. Relldon allows for Skee 'Ra to bow out gracefully and vow to return to the Black Marsh without contest. For she has been watched and her actions over the daughter were only known to him and his informants. Elara has believed to have fled Tamriel all together, but the Brotherhood would sorely disapprove of Skee 'Ra's allowances for the bloodline to continue.
However, Relldon is forced to contain the Argonian aboard a ship in the Iliac Bay until the matter at hand is dealt with. Without doubt, she would give her life for the sake of the target. Still, against the grain of the Brotherhood, had it been anyone else, he would not have initially approached them with a sheathed blade.
The next few days of torture on the small farm of the Monets puts Relldon in pursuit of the merchant wagon, now well into the crossing of the lands of Hammerfell. Skee 'Ra is old but she is far from being without skill. Even under heavy guard, she removes a scale from her own flesh and hones it down to fashion a lockpick. She was one with the night and into Hammerfell, before they even knew she had gone.
As Rellon atops the Colovian Highlands, he can see the mark in the far distance. Although the Dark Brotherhood is prevalent in Cyrodiil, chapters are somewhat territorial. They need to end this before they get too far into Cyrodiil. He nocks his arrow and watches the flowing leaves of the trees about the path to the the wagon's driver. He aims high and releases in rhythm with the sway of the branches. The arrow would find it's mark as if he had placed it by hand.
Lucrezia's flee is met with a simple gesture from Relldon's hand and a Brotherhood Assassin counters her retreat with a lateral decent to her heading. The desperate mother, in an attempt to get as far as possible before her last breath, would only travel a short distance from her son, when the stealth mastery of the Assassin would interrupt her dash of escape with a dagger through the throat that seemed to appear from the air itself.
Fate would acquire the young Breton mother but to her studious knowledge of the flora properties and quick thinking, together with the gift of the stars, her newborn would escape the black hands of murder as Relldon would never find the child.
In hopes of acting as mild sedative, the lingering effect of the fungi would keep young Alabard at rest until the morning of the second day. The belongings from the wagon and the bodies of the fallen family would be hours past and into the hands of passersby. Yet the babe would awaken and missing the comfort of his mother, he begins a weep that crescendos into a cry of desperation.
The cry echoes across the wood and is nothing short of announcing a dinner service to the local predators. A small pack of wolves and a mountain lion arrive to further investigate the commotion. The lion is first to arrive and has focused on the rustling of the leaves by the flailing of infant arms. The wolves are no match for the lion as a single opponent, but the advantage is in the numbers and the lion will yield to the pack.
The alpha stands over the babe as his exposed incisors are slowly engulfed with a flood of saliva. The others anxiously await their turn as they circle the fallen tree, with yelps that need no translation to understand their meaning. The Alpha nips at the unraveled swaddle and pulls the newborn from the niche, exposing his tender creamy white flesh. He plants his forelegs and steadies himself as he lunges his head down with an outstretched mouth. The cold wet canine snout brushes against the belly of the babe as he broadens his bite.
He would not dine upon the flesh this day. The sweet bloody nectar would be replaced with the bitterness of forged steel as the longblade of a savior would penetrate the jaws of death and bring the downward lunge of the creature to a rising failed attempt at an easy meal. The savior's blade would open the wolf's head like the clam on a fisherman's wharf. The others, now intoxicated with anticipation would charge into the fray at any chance of reaping the wondrous reward that still lies on the ground before them.
Closing form three sides simultaneously, the remaining pack leaps with the efforts of sheer instinct. However, instinct is a flame that's quickly doused with unprecedented reflex. While a series of motions and several attacks was needed to defend the onslaught, any onlooker would only glimpse of a single step and the settling of a hooded cloak as the thud of three carcass to the ground was only met with the rustling of the leaves that were shuffled by three heads that rolled form the fallen wood.
The Breton babe, unbenounced to what had just transpired, was coddled and whispered to in a short series of repetitive hisses and clicks. The native tongue of the Argonians would translate into...
SKEE 'RA : There, there child. You need to find comfort, as we have a long road ahead of us.
The cocksure young Breton has folly with the elderly Argonian.
ELARA : Are you certain you don't need to rest old one? You seem to be slo...
Before the Breton could utter the completing syllables, she finds herself seemingly teleported to a horizontal position on the damp and moldy bottom of the training room floor, cobbled with a mixture of stone and muddy residue. The skilled Argonian hovers atop her with one dagger buried in the crotch of Elara and the other angled down her body as the blade leaves a small red line across her milky white cheek.
What starts out as a series of clicks and hisses, evolves into the familiar spoken language.
SKEE 'RA : If you are ever in question of my potential speed, know that if self restraint is not exercised, the sound of my blades against one another would be heard before the sound of your pitiful excuse for a body hitting the ground. Uniting them would be as effortless as clapping my hands and your entire torso would be opened like a coin purse.
A lesson well learned, and Elara would never scorn the old Argonian again. The years pass and the young Breton grew into a highly skilled instrument of death. Skee 'Ra's position of Speaker is up to be challenged and she knows her time within the Brotherhood, as Speaker is short lived. The Listener is already conducting dialog with a seasoned Redgard Assassin, named Relldon. Elara's recent actions, or lack thereof, has drawn suspicion and idle banter among the ranks. What initially seemed to be a fling, of sorts, proved to be a lasting affair with the enemy. Skee 'Ra knows it will not end well, unless she can talk to Elara before the inevitable is put into motion.
Two days concluded and the expected comes to pass. The Listener calls upon Relldon and utters a single name into his ear...
- Elara Moniel -
While anticipation was paramount, twas to Skee 'Ra's surprize that Relldon had been chosen for Speaker. Alas, the Nightmother has spoken and thine will must be carried out. Relldon wastes no time and approaches Skee 'Ra with the appointed task. Reluctance is the unwelcomed emotion but she knows she has no choice. Her thoughts changes to hope in that she may prolong the execution of the frail little girl that first entered the harrowing halls of the Sanctuary. For the elderly Argonian had a warm spot in her cold and blackened heart.
As time passed, Relldon would assume the position as Speaker, full time. Skee 'Ra would stay on at the Sanctuary as an instructor and follow Elara closely and watch over her. All the while trying to throw suspicion off of her true intent and masking the truth with veils of deceit. Long after the child was born, Skee 'Ra would often observe the young Lucrezia and even enter the Monet household and sit by her bed at night. Mothering over what would have otherwise been a grandchild of her own, if for only a brief moment and then vanishing into the Northmoor night.
Convinced that the Brotherhood had given up on Elara years before, she was getting older and growing more careless. It has been almost 10 years since she last saw Elara. She only hoped that the once loved initiate had found piece. Her focus was on the young child, now young woman, that she so adored for the past 18 years.
Shrouded in commoner's clothes she attends the wedding of Lucrezia. And even poses as a midwife assistant during the birthing of the baby Breton boy, Alabard.
Over the next few months, it became known to the Brotherhood, the lineage that Elara has left behind. Relldon allows for Skee 'Ra to bow out gracefully and vow to return to the Black Marsh without contest. For she has been watched and her actions over the daughter were only known to him and his informants. Elara has believed to have fled Tamriel all together, but the Brotherhood would sorely disapprove of Skee 'Ra's allowances for the bloodline to continue.
However, Relldon is forced to contain the Argonian aboard a ship in the Iliac Bay until the matter at hand is dealt with. Without doubt, she would give her life for the sake of the target. Still, against the grain of the Brotherhood, had it been anyone else, he would not have initially approached them with a sheathed blade.
The next few days of torture on the small farm of the Monets puts Relldon in pursuit of the merchant wagon, now well into the crossing of the lands of Hammerfell. Skee 'Ra is old but she is far from being without skill. Even under heavy guard, she removes a scale from her own flesh and hones it down to fashion a lockpick. She was one with the night and into Hammerfell, before they even knew she had gone.
As Rellon atops the Colovian Highlands, he can see the mark in the far distance. Although the Dark Brotherhood is prevalent in Cyrodiil, chapters are somewhat territorial. They need to end this before they get too far into Cyrodiil. He nocks his arrow and watches the flowing leaves of the trees about the path to the the wagon's driver. He aims high and releases in rhythm with the sway of the branches. The arrow would find it's mark as if he had placed it by hand.
Lucrezia's flee is met with a simple gesture from Relldon's hand and a Brotherhood Assassin counters her retreat with a lateral decent to her heading. The desperate mother, in an attempt to get as far as possible before her last breath, would only travel a short distance from her son, when the stealth mastery of the Assassin would interrupt her dash of escape with a dagger through the throat that seemed to appear from the air itself.
Fate would acquire the young Breton mother but to her studious knowledge of the flora properties and quick thinking, together with the gift of the stars, her newborn would escape the black hands of murder as Relldon would never find the child.
In hopes of acting as mild sedative, the lingering effect of the fungi would keep young Alabard at rest until the morning of the second day. The belongings from the wagon and the bodies of the fallen family would be hours past and into the hands of passersby. Yet the babe would awaken and missing the comfort of his mother, he begins a weep that crescendos into a cry of desperation.
The cry echoes across the wood and is nothing short of announcing a dinner service to the local predators. A small pack of wolves and a mountain lion arrive to further investigate the commotion. The lion is first to arrive and has focused on the rustling of the leaves by the flailing of infant arms. The wolves are no match for the lion as a single opponent, but the advantage is in the numbers and the lion will yield to the pack.
The alpha stands over the babe as his exposed incisors are slowly engulfed with a flood of saliva. The others anxiously await their turn as they circle the fallen tree, with yelps that need no translation to understand their meaning. The Alpha nips at the unraveled swaddle and pulls the newborn from the niche, exposing his tender creamy white flesh. He plants his forelegs and steadies himself as he lunges his head down with an outstretched mouth. The cold wet canine snout brushes against the belly of the babe as he broadens his bite.
He would not dine upon the flesh this day. The sweet bloody nectar would be replaced with the bitterness of forged steel as the longblade of a savior would penetrate the jaws of death and bring the downward lunge of the creature to a rising failed attempt at an easy meal. The savior's blade would open the wolf's head like the clam on a fisherman's wharf. The others, now intoxicated with anticipation would charge into the fray at any chance of reaping the wondrous reward that still lies on the ground before them.
Closing form three sides simultaneously, the remaining pack leaps with the efforts of sheer instinct. However, instinct is a flame that's quickly doused with unprecedented reflex. While a series of motions and several attacks was needed to defend the onslaught, any onlooker would only glimpse of a single step and the settling of a hooded cloak as the thud of three carcass to the ground was only met with the rustling of the leaves that were shuffled by three heads that rolled form the fallen wood.
The Breton babe, unbenounced to what had just transpired, was coddled and whispered to in a short series of repetitive hisses and clicks. The native tongue of the Argonians would translate into...
SKEE 'RA : There, there child. You need to find comfort, as we have a long road ahead of us.
ABRUPT ETERNITY
... to be continued.
Words contained in posts, at which point I stop reading and will not respond...
Toon / Mana / WoW or any acronym following "In ___" /
Pets (when referring to summoned Daedra) / Any verbiage to express slang (ie, ending in uz,az,..) / Soul Stone
... to be continued.
Now, get off my lawn.
Toon / Mana / WoW or any acronym following "In ___" /
Pets (when referring to summoned Daedra) / Any verbiage to express slang (ie, ending in uz,az,..) / Soul Stone
... to be continued.
Now, get off my lawn.
0