About The Poisoned Blade
We are the Poisoned Blade and we seek to protect and defend the forces of the Aldmeri Dominion. We are primarily a stealth focused guild for the Aldmeri Dominion but we accept all builds and classes into our guild. Our goal is to better organize ourselves and the dominion so that we can be more effective and lethal against our enemies. We are seeking players who can accomplish stealth missions including sabotage of the enemy, spying on their movements, ambushing caravans, and causing mayhem and destruction to their forces and special ops teams to perform a wide range of missions for the blade. and while stealth warriors are important, every guild needs capable warriors to fight on the front lines and charge into battle. We only ask you be flexible with your methods and be able to work with a diverse group of people and be respectful.
our guild has several officers, all in charge of a certain aspect or focus of the guild. all our officers work together to ensure the survival and cohesiveness of our forces.
Atherium117-Guild leader- Guild Chest Manager- Spec-ops Leader
The Cello Guy- Regional Commander
Shd0w Assassin- Counter Intelligence and Diplomat
White Arrow-Caravan and Calvary officer
ShyAries- Assassin manager
_______-Head tactician and strategist
Oswald-Ground troop commander
Beridhren Nightwood- Guild trainer of recruits
Ranks and Titles of the Poisoned Blade
Ceysel – Hall of Shadows (keep name)
Nagasel – Hall of Death (keep name)
Basic Ranks (from new to experienced)
Corollary (extra servant)
Lorkaran (Dark Armor, Assassin)
Rid t’har (Leader)
Generals (these are titles, not ranks)
Sunna As Goria (Blessed by Obscurity) -_______
Mathmalatu (Home Of Truth) [Shd0w Assassin]
Belle-meld (Thunderous Leader) [White Arrow]
Pellani Tarnabye (Outsider’s Passage) [Beridhren Nightwood]
Akudarr-meld (Searching Leader) [______]
Atalaloria (Mother of Dark Times) [ShyAries]
Rhatan-meld (Land leader) [Oswald]
Rellais-meld (Stream leader) [TheCelloGuy]
Kha-jay Pelin (Moon Knight) [Atherium 117]
Maaszi-ja’aran (Necessity Prince) [ChronosTimeCarver]
Due to the differing time zones and schedule conflicts, we understand that not everyone will be present at the same time, including our officers. If the leader, myself, is not present then the current officers will make a decision until the guild master returns.
The blade is a guild that can be hired by fellow aldmeri guilds, groups, or person to perform tasks for the Dominion. We will be able to perform a variety of contracts for other guilds, be it recon, sabotage, assassination, or the protection of supplies. These will be done for an agreed price and while a large portion will go to the members who completed the contract, a small portion will go to the guild chest for guild spending.
The Blade has a long and important history to all of Tamriel, albeit largely unknown for many years. Now you shall know the beginning of the Blade.
Vanus Galerion. Known to many as Trechtus and as the founder of the Mages Guild. In the year 2E230, Vanus would create one of the most powerful, one of the most radical, one of the most intelligent mages that ever lived. Fed up with the ethics of the Psijic Order, he founded the Guild with the intent to allow aspiring mages an opportunity to learn about magic in a free manner, and without stringent procedures to follow, and without arrogant fools commanding them day after day. Parallel to his peer Mannimarco, he strongly opposed necromancy. Trechtus founded the Guild off of these principles in which he taught throughout the land. Eventually, a young mage caught his eye. There love blossomed within Jorviana and Trechtus. Their love transformed into a secret obsession of each other. Trechtus, being the one to doom the Psijic Order could not reveal this weakness to a mere mortal. No book ever told of this, no man ever spoke, no women ever gossiped. They grew closer and closer until Mannimarco created the monster army that threatened to enslave the living. Mannimarco ripped them apart through constant conflict, like a flower from the sun. Jorviana was whisked to the Isles by Vanus to keep her safe. She was not alone however, as the unborn child grew within her womb.
Jorviana was left with only a handful of gold, a bag of magical books, potions created by Trechtus, and a dagger to defend her. Months passed until young Rymarius Galerion was born. Rymarius, Remus as his nickname suggests, was born into the High Elf society poor and alone. Jorviana worked as a maid in the house of Iachesis, the very family that mentored Trechtus. As Remus grew up along sidewalks and powdered root, he learned to live off of his resources. The books his father had left him taught him basic skills in the area of Alchemy and magic. He could create potions from the very trees that surrounded Arteaum. Arteaum was no village, but the very academy that taught his father to be the mage he was only a few years ago. Astute mages gave no eye Remus as he watched them pass by, twirling magic orbs between their fingers and summoning small creatures. Remus never liked the idea of magic casting. People would mysteriously disappear and reappear later as someone else, dismember themselves, turn air into liquid, even blow up. Alchemy was his passion. One of the mages however stumble d upon him and noticed his potion rack fashioned out of rabbit bone and sinew. “What in the devil are you doing with these? Have you no sensibility? Alchemy is for mages and scholars, not street rats!” As the mage kicked this rack over in disgust, potions spewed over the ground. The mage scoffed at the mess and walked off, only to find something strangely askew.
The mage looked behind him and saw a sight he would not soon forget. A fiery glow appeared against the contrast of the stone walkway. As the glow became unbearable to see, Remus saw the image of his father, and at his feet, the ground turned to gold. Remus only glared in horrific astonishment and began to weep. The mage however just stood there, unmoving. The air seemed to stand still, and the trees stopped submitting to the wind. Then, he awoke to a familiar sight. The black alley stared at him with a never ending doubt. But at his feet lay a gold cap. This cap was all that remained of his precious potions. He found a dumped skooma bottle and corked it as his new collection began anew. He ventured to get water from the nearby well and filled the small glass to the brim. The light green blown glass seemed to shimmer with an unknown light, one that the ground glistened of when the potion rack was tipped. Too thirsty to care, Remus knocked back the glass and downed the small glass without a second thought. When he went to re-cork it, the cap was gone. Again, the ground began to shimmer. This time, a strange figure materialized in front of him. A Khajiit fellow with a dark hood. Then, he awoke in the night with only the lonely well for company.
As Remus and his mother grew hungrier and mages began to leave the Arcane Academy, Remus became desperate. A young adult now, his mother withered with the deplorable conditions provided to them. Only with an occasional caravan and charity were they able to get affordable wants. One caravan in particular came around quarterly with supplies from Morrowind and Skyrim. They brought news about the war with Mannimarco, and would occasionally slip a few rare ingredients to Remus. One year however, only one came with the caravan. This Khajiit came with a strange black cloak and hood. The bearer of bad news, he explained the war with Mannimarco, or as he would call himself the King of Worms. His father was the worst part however. In his last act, he banished Mannimarco into a state of transience, one where he could not be killed, or kill. But in his efforts, he fell to the swarms of the undead and the possessed. Remus felt sad and depressed, but he knew if he were to ever meet him would be a pipe dream. This, however, convinced him to take action and get out of his squalor. He crafted the last of his ingredients into potions that would fetch money for his mother and keep her safe. He left with the Khajiit and headed for Cyrodiil.
Along the lonely road, they encountered bandits and creatures, but also discovered many strange things in the Realm. Memories of his books flashed through his head as the long journey progressed. The dagger given to his mother almost 20 years ago at his hip, he felt a sense of safety with the only memory of his father in the small engraved blade. With the Khajiit, he learned to fight in the shadows, survive the harsh winters and brutal summers, and only harm those who lie. Along with the principles of the Guild that grew so quickly and were held as law, a strict creed began to form in the mind of Remus. As they approached Cyrodiil, familiar faces began to appear. Elves and Khajiit in camps together, caravan mates, and even the mage that started this journey cropped the coast of the Niben. These were members of the Dominion that fought to protect the land of the Elves. Although they were not listed in the rosters, they were considered brethren. They even received orders from the captains. Near the White-Gold Tower though, Remus’s heart plummeted into the bowels of Nirn. The image before him horrifying and demoralizing. The face in which he sought since he was a boy stared at him. An all too familiar face without the eyes of passion, skin crawling with pests, and hair thin strands of thread, put Remus and the Khajiit to the ground. The rotten corpse of Vanus Galerion swayed in the hot summer breeze.
Remus crafted the most powerful of poisons he knew, with intent to harm. Bubbling as a boiling pot would, steaming like the morning fog, and black as the very robes the Necromancers wore. He dipped the dagger into the alembic and withdrew the blade. Corroded to the point of wearing the ancient text down to the bones of the blade, and the edge chipped like the Jerall Mountains, a dark look filled Remus’s eyes. With the Khajiit and other members of the Dominion, they went to the layer of Mannimarco. The soldiers fought a great battle with the Necromancers and finally, they came to the crypt of Mannimarco. Mannimarco lay there, unmoving and still, Remus thrust the dagger into his chest. With this poisoned blade, Remus sent the necromancer into a state of decay. Mannimarco was so weakened by the poison; he would not be able to return for another 800 years.
Remus’s dagger now lay in the possession of the ancestors of the group that raided the unholy crypt. Dedicated to protecting the Dominion on strict codes of stealth and truth, the following have named themselves after the very ability the son of Trechtus. The Poisoned Blade. Stopping through shadow we stalk, killing without remorse, and revealing the greatest of truths, the Blade fights for the survival of the Dominion and of the beliefs of Trechtus and Rymarius. Withheld life ends with the swift fury of rightful killing and with the help of the instrument of ultimate destruction. The Poisoned Blade.
Now you know how we began. We strike where we are needed and protect the Dominion from the forces of darkness. Will you join us in these times of war to rid Tamriel of evil and serve the Dominion?
We are seeking all players for our guild to help improve ourselves and prepare for launch. If you have questions contact Atherium117.
For the Blade!
The Poisoned Blade
by TheCelloGuy on Jan 30, 2015 at 05:15 PM}