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5 mos ago
There are many reasons not to look at the 1x1 interest checks.


27 | M | GMT
Greetings friends, partners, enemies, acquaintances, and strangers. I am Kassarock, or just Kass if you prefer, welcome to my profile. Anyway, I am a 20 something male roleplayer from the UK and a long time user of the site, although I have come and gone a fair bit over my time here. I used to be more active on the old site, and I still am relatively active in the off topic sections today, as well as in the guild's discord. So you might see me around.

I generally consider myself to be an advanced writer, I pretty much always write multiple paragraphs, and will drop walls of text if the mood takes me. My grammar is okay, but not formally perfect, so I do not expect that from my partners either. I normally like quite dark and dramatic themes in terms of content in my roleplays, regardless of genre. Unless I have got an interest check up, or have messaged you, I am not usually looking for new partners to write with.

I think that covers just about everything. Message me if you want to know more.
Original Join Date: 07/04/2009

Advanced, Casual, 1x1, Nation, Tabletop

Historical, Fantasy, Sci-fi, Romance, Drama

Writer, Archaeologist, Cymro


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Current Avatar & Signature | Abbadon | Kill Six Billion Demons

Check out my Character Archive for other/old character sheets.

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F A Z A H R A A L - H A M I N A

Art from TES: Legends



Name - Captain Fazahra al-Hamina
Gender - Female.
Race - Redguard.
Age - Late twenties to mid-thirties.
Height - Taller than average, around 5'9".
Profession - Sailor.
Family Origins - Hammerfell, Abah's Landing
Birth Sign - The Thief.


S K I L L S & A B I L I T I E S


Redguards are said to be the most naturally talented warriors in Tamriel, Fazahra is no exception to this. Shipboard life can be violent, put a blade in her hands and she will produce dead men for you.


A lifetime of climbing rigging and running over heaving decks has left Fazahra more nible than most, with an excellent sense of balance.

Commerce and trade is the lifeblood of most ships. Goods must be acquired and sold, ships provisioned, crews hired and paid.


Hauling rope and canvas makes one develop certain muscles.

Minor repair work on vessels is often undertaken by the crew, Fazahra has a working knowledge of cold metal working and carpentry.

The greatest danger at sea is the sea itself, what sort of fool wears armour on a boat?



A curved steel sword and dagger, of traditional Yokundan design.

Nothing put some light cloth and leather boots.

Miscellaneous Items
A water skin.
Unenchanted gold jewellery and medallions, carriable wealth.
Several bottles of good Stros M'Kai Rum.
Carpentry and miscellaneous tools.
A suspiciously large bag of gold, well hidden.
Rope, so much rope.
One ship, in a ruinous state of repair.
A broken compass, kept close to the heart.


Captain Fazahra al-Hamina is an imposing Redguard woman of larger than average height and build. Wide hipped and thick waisted, her figure looks stocky and strong. She has spent over half her life hauling rope and canvas or pulling at an oar, activities which have placed a significant amount of muscle on top of her already oversized frame.

The dark skin of her muscled arms are lined with the pale scars of old injuries, some from the lash of an overtightened line snapping free, others from slash of a steel blade. Her hands are similarly marked, they bear callus upon callus, forged through hard and heavy work, leaving them as tough and unyielding as the timbers of a ship.

The features of her face bear a similarity to that of her build. A broad nose, a wide forehead, dark eyes spaced perhaps a little too far apart to be considered a model for classical standards of feminine beauty. The lower half of her face is dominated by a set of full lips, most often parted in a open smile showing white pearlescent teeth.

She wears her hair long, pushed back away from her face, but left to hang freely about her shoulders. The tightly coiled black hair is teased into numerous braids, adorned with beads and golden rings. Her ears are clearly visible when her hair is worn in this fashion, showing off a glimmering array of golden earrings, some simple hoops, others dangling large pedants of semi-precious stones or seashells.

The captain dresses simply, loose linen shirts tucked into tight fitting dark breeches. She wears thigh high black leather boots of undeniable quality. From a shoulder slung sword belt a curved Redguard scimitar of plain and mean looking steel hangs along with a matching dagger. The adorned hilts contrasting with the gilded medallions and talismans they jingle alongside with. This are utilitarian weapons, tools for killing.

In colder and wetter weather she has a long oil skin coat that she wraps about her person, along with a wide brimmed hat to keep the sun from her eyes and the rain from the face.



Fazahra is undoubted a woman who has endured much and led a tough life. One might expect evidence of this toughness, this hard and unyielding nature, to give her character a similar quality, that she would be some stern figurehead from some veteran warship, harshly carved from the boughs of a blackened oak.

But the demeanour of Captain Fazahra could not be further from this image.

Her face most often bears a smile so wide and open, it disarms those around her of the dangerous nature that hardened body forebodes. It is a friendly face. One that welcomes bosom buddies and heart companions to entrust their hopes and desire to her. Her husky voice has a singsong quality to it, and when she laughs they are full and hearty.

Fazahra has a temper to her though, one that can whip up as quickly as a summer squall, though it is as apt to disappear just as fast as it emerged. She is not particularly violent by nature, even when wroth she is unlikely to reach for her sword unless threatened. And there is not much she feels threatened by.

Overall the captain gives of an air of confidence and easy bravado. She seems self-assured of her abilities, and at ease in any company. This combination of self belief and friendliness makes her a very outgoing and extraverted individual. When at port and in taverns she draws in the people around her, making friends easily, attracting lovers easily.

But like the seas she calls her home, many may swim in those warm and shallow waters without ever knowing the abyss that lies beneath them. A chasm of dark fathomless depths, in which one could easily drown. There is an ocean of hurt and pain inside of this woman, no matter how much sun shines on the surface.

She rarely shows it when around others. Perhaps only when particularly deep in her cups might those mournful truths take hold and the perpetual smile she wears falters and fades. Her hand might creep to the pouch on the sword belt, the one that lies closest to her heart, close around the broken compass that resides there. Glass shattered, no direction left to give.

Her greatest regret is the man that owned that compass once. The one who loved Fazahra more than anything, who would have done anything for her. The one she killed.

Her goal? Happiness, Freedom, Escape. Escape from the past, the past of who she was, what she did, and what she had others do for her. Maybe out there, on the open sea, the wind at her back once more, she will be able to leave behind all of the pain and all of the guilt that has brought with her to Anvil.



Captain Fazahra is a talkative individual, she will freely converse on many different themes and topics. She tells many tall tales of the strange far off lands that she has seen, of the raucous nights spent in ports all over Tamriel, of ghost stories featuring phantom ships and dread sea monsters. If required she will even talk of more mundane things, of her craft as a sailor, of the fluctuating price of trade goods, even of the weather.

But there is one thing she very, very rarely talks about directly. Who exactly she is, where she comes from, and what exactly she was doing before she came to Anvil.
Despite her silence on these matters, a discerning mind and well trained eye would be able to puzzle a good deal of her history out of her just by looking and listening, filling in the gaps with the odd well reasoned guess.

Firstly, Fazahra is a Redguard that much is clear by her dark skin. Her accent places her as a native of Hammerfell, and to a trained ear, south east Hammerfell with a enough Tamrielic creole mixed in to presume that she grew up in one of the large port cities that dot the coast along those bleak shores. Rihad or Taneth, Abah's Landing perhaps.

Secondly, Fazahra up poor, that's in her accent too, as well as the evidence of a lifetime of hard work on those callused hands of hers. The flashy displays of gold that she wears at her ears and belt speak to this as well, it is most often those who come into some deal of wealth later in life that have the greatest desire to flaunt it.

Third, though she claims to be a sailor and merchant, Fazahra is no stranger to violence. The scars on her arms, her self assurance around dangerous company, and the casual way she carries the blade at her hip makes this all to evidently clear.

Then there's what can be learned about Fazahra since she arrived in Anvil a month past as a passenger on merchant vessel. The first thing she did was sour the docks for a ship to purchase herself. She found one that satisfied her, although in need or some serious work, and set about repairing and provisioning the vessel herself. All of this was paid for upfront, in cold hard cash. Golden septims, not letters of credit or bankers drafts.

So, we have a woman who grew up poor, spent her life at sea and around violence, who suddenly finds herself with a significant deal of hard currency, and is purposefully obscure about what exactly she was doing before she arrived in her current port of call.

There is one explanation for these traits that fits much better than any other:

Fazahra is a pirate.

Or rather, Fazahra was a pirate. Anvil is not generally known as a safe harbour for the the buccaneers of the Abecean Sea, its a well maintained Imperial Port, not a haven of criminals like Port Hunding or Abah's Landing. A Pirate Captain, flush with gold in need of a new ship could certainly find somewhere much better to buy a raiding vessel and raise a crew of marauders.

Perhaps that explains the slight edge that the good Captain seems to have developed of late, the one that keeps her checking the shadows, and has her always sat in the taverns where she can keep one eye on the door. A pirate who broke faith with their compatriots, especially one who may have swindled more than their fair share of booty, would certainly have reason to keep looking over their shoulder.

But then again, it seems that everyone in Anvil is watching the shadows these days...

I'll cast a vote for 10 steps. Thematic and clever, I liked it a lot.
Okay, I am finally done.

What is this I see? An TES RP, GMed by one of my favourite role players? I could be tempted, I could be tempted
Tentative interest, I love the concept, but not 100% sure I have the time


The reception dinner was a restrained affair compared to the outpouring of general merriment that could be found outside. The delegation of Karitu's high nobility had booked out the upper floors of a well appointed inn overlooking the plaza that lead to the Ruby Palace. Important members from two dozen clans, including several Tochihai and the Seshkyo's own brother, rubbed shoulders with their Folk counterparts from the Imperial Capital.

The finest and oldest families of Karitu were all represented here, and representing the Ishiya, was the venerable clan's young heir apparent, Ryutaro. As he picked at his food and listened to the droning murmur of polite conversation, the slight youth's crimson eyes could not help but be drawn toward the open balcony doors, and the festival beyond them.

Outside there was a world of mirth and excitement, it was his first time in the capital unaccompanied, and he longed to explore it. But he was not here for his own longings and desires. He was here to reaffirm the bonds and alliances the Ishiya had with the nobility of Bianwei, and to offer tribute and submission to the Emperor. But that would come later, first, there would be plenty of 'mingling'.

He almost sighed at that, it was not one of his favourite activities.

While lost in his own thoughts there was a lull in the conversation. Ryutaro tore his eyes away from the fireworks in the night sky to the portly Folk nobleman seated to his right. Lord something of Domain such-and-such. He had been talking at such length about agricultural exports Ryu had almost forgotten that he had been included in this particular conversation. Did they expect him to say something? Had he been asked a question?

"My apologies, I did not quite catch what you were saying, my lord."

"As the designated heir of the Ishiya, surely you could put this mat-"

"Heir apparent, my lord." He quickly interrupted with an apologetic smile. "My grandfather is yet to formally designate his successor. But rest assured, no matter whom succeeds him, the Ishiya clan shall treasure the continued friendship of your family."

The portly lord harrumphed and stroked his beard before launching back into another long monologue about rice tariffs to anyone around him who would listen. Once he deemed he was safe from being drawn into another discussion, Ryu allowed his eyes to drift to the balcony once more.

"Are you watching the fireworks?"

The voice this time came from his left, on that side he had been seated next to a Honfokun girl of a similar age to him. He didn't know here particularly well, though he was reasonably sure that she was some cousin of the Nakamuras who lived in the capital. A decent match potentially, Ryu was sure he saw his grandfather's hand in this.

"Oh errm- yes, they are... very pretty." He tried not to stumble on his words, but they still came out awkwardly. He had to get a hold of himself. Now was not the time to make a fool of himself in front of all of Cimanu and Bianwei.

"I was watching them too." She smiled at him, he supposed she was pretty too. "Perhaps you could accompany onto the balcony? We could watch them together, before the Emperor makes his speech."

"...I would be delighted to."

He rose from the table in the graceful motion and extended one hand for her to do the same, before he lead her out onto the balcony.

He had found himself a date. With a girl. Great.

To uphold the legacy of the Ishiya clan is both a duty and an honour








Health Points



- Traditional Honfukun Lute - the Shamisen.
- Several changes of fine clothes.
- Porcelain tea set.
- Flask of plum wine.
- Large pouch of gold.
- Parchment and Calligraphy tools.
- Lacquered and Gilt Sword Case, sealed.



- Two handed Honfukun katana, highly decorated.
- Matching wakizashi.
- Close fitting Lamellar of lacquered iron plates.



Might: 10 (+0)
Dexterity: 14 (+1 racial, +3)
Perception: 14 (+2 racial, +2)
Wisdom: 15 (+2 racial, +3)
Charisma: 14 (+4)
Constitution: 11 (+1 racial)


Ishiya Ryutaro is a young Honfokun of relatively small and slight stature. Like the majority of his kind, his complexion is markedly different from the Folk of the Yongcun Empire, in this case a dark shade of dusky blue. His hair is similarity dark, black with the very faintest hint of an iridescent sheen, like that of a crow's feather. From beneath his short wavy locks a pair of slim curved horns emerge, which while well proportioned, would not be considered particularly impressive headgear by most Honfokun.

His face is more pretty than handsome. There is a delicateness to his features, which though none could doubt to be aesthetically pleasing, could also be seen as slightly too effeminate on a man. The softness of youth is still very much in evidence in Ryutaro's face. His skin is smooth and supple, his cheek and chin still hairless.

The eyes that gaze out from this youthful visage are of a bright and brilliant crimson, a colour that Ryutaro clearly favours in his choices of clothing. Several of the silken robes he has with him of this hue, as well as the lacquer that coats his armour.


In social situations Ryutaro's youth belies his conduct, he is smooth and confident, having an excellent eye for the finer points of etiquette and appropriate behaviour. He is an engaging conversationalist, with knowledge on a great manner subjects and topics, but without a hint of arrogance or self-aggrandisation. In general he is pleasant, likable, friendly and humble.

He has an excellent level of control over his emotions, rarely appearing visibly angry or upset in any situation. This self control can at times make Ryutaro feel as if he is somewhat evasive, or opaque. He is so good at disguising his own emotional state and behaving appropriately at times he struggles to reveal in his inner feelings.

There is also an element of cautiousness, or perhaps even timidity to his person. He is never one to talk over another, and is quick to yield the centre of attention whenever it happens to fall upon him. Ryutaro is someone more focused on pleasing others above himself. An unusual trait in an heir apparent to a great and powerful noble house.

The Ishiya clan can trace their lineage back as far as any of the great Honfokun families of Karitu. There were Ishiya who walked the ancient isles of Mosati, who fled the wrath of the yaoguai, and were amongst those two thousand weary souls who landed upon the shores of the Empire half a millennia ago. In the years since then, they have built a legacy that places them as one of the foremost clans of Karitu.

Three Ishiya clan leaders have reigned in Cimanu as Seshkyo, elected rulers of the Honfokun people. And though they do not currently bear this particular dignity, Ryutaro's grandfather, Ishiya Tamotsu, is still considered a Tochihai, one of the feudal lords who command wealth, respect and power in Karitu.

The Ishiya are noted amongst all Honfokun clans for their martial legacy. They were one of the families who brought the teachings of Senshodo with them when they travelled across the sea, and to this day the influence of these teachings runs strong in them. There is even a style of swordsmanship named after the family, the Ishiya style, which focuses on aggressive attacks and powerful static blocks. Ishiya Tamotsu was a noted warrior in his youth and is a highly respected fencing master and teacher. In addition many Ishiya have served as soldiers and commanders of Imperial armies, including Ryutaro's own father, before his untimely death.

Sometimes Ryutaro wonders what his life would have been like had his father survived. Would the pressures placed upon him by his grandfather been lessened? Or would his father just been another elder who's expectations Ryutaro felt he was continually falling short of.

Ryutaro was raised by grandfather. His father died when he was a small child, and his grandfather separated him from his mother when he decided having too many women around little Ryu was having a bad influence. He had always been small, weaker than his many cousins, and painfully shy as a child. But he was his grandfather's only male heir, and so Ishiya Tamotsu tried to make him into an heir worthy of the Ishiya name.

In part he succeeded. Ryutaro is cultured and intelligent, he overcame his childhood shyness even if he still is a little timid and reserved. He trained diligently at swordsmanship and is a competent fighter, but no more than competent. Where his skills shine are in his poetry, music, and dancing, all desirable skills in the scion of a noble family. But there are still those who see him as unworthy within his own clan, and his grandfather has never formally acknowledged Ryutaro as his heir and successor.

M O T I V A T I O N & O U T L O O K

Ryutaro want to live up to the expectations that others have placed upon him. He wants to be the diligent grandson, dutiful heir, and great warrior his grandfather has trained him to be. At the same time he feels stifled by it all. The weight of the Ishiya legacy his heavy, and he worries that it will crush him beneath it.

Deep down part of him wants to live his own life, free of what others think of him, and able to choose his own path.
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