A Skyrim Roleplay Server
Built by a team with years of experience in FiveM and RedM, SkyMP has given us the ability to unlock the full potential of fantasy roleplay. Set in a lore-friendly, alternate timeline, our server offers a rich and immersive world shaped by the Elder Scrolls universe — yet entirely its own. Whether you're a veteran of thousands of hours in Skyrim and beyond, or stepping into Tamriel for the very first time, you'll find a home here.
Features and systems for Mereth Roleplay. Status reflects current development priorities.
The year is 4E 185; ten years have passed since the signing of the White-Gold Concordat and the end of the Great War between the Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion. Skyrim, the frozen fatherland, is at peace, but her people are increasingly divided, and that peace is slowly becoming fragile. The Empire, finally getting back on its feet, has not yet returned to its proud stature, and in 4E 176, the Thalmor got their foothold within the province. Local recruitment, trade routes and travel to and from Cyrodiil, and Legion patrols have all seemed to rise in the recent years, and the establishment of a Thalmor Embassy - a tool to ensure that the terms of the Concordat are enforced - has circled like a brewing storm around the bases of Nordic identity, preparing to tear up root and stone in the ban of Talos Stormcrown.
Skyrim is a land renowned for its frozen peaks and harsh storms, but one cannot truly appreciate what it means to be of this land until they have weathered the jagged shores battered by the Sea of Ghosts. Glaciers drift in the frozen fog as massive ice sheets pretend at being land - until they crack upon and plunge the unwary wanderer into a fathomless frozen sea. It is upon these shores that myth and memory are preserved, almost drawing out from the Ghosts what memories they retain of ancient Atmora, and are safeguarded at the College of Winterhold.
The College traces its history to the Cleverfolk, the shamans and spellsingers of the ancient Nords, and the worship of the Nordic Owl Totem. Though now mistrusted by the denizens of Skyrim, a great many Nords still hone their Craft under the watchful gaze of Jhunal, and are more than willing to impart their history and knowledge upon the stranger and foreigner alike. Many former Mage's Guild neophytes have been drawn to Winterhold out of curiosity, as the philosophies of spellwork found within - the perception of magicka as a force of nature - are vastly different from the more manufactured and Aetheric teachings of Vanus Galerion.
However, the true depth of this ancient land's mystical history cannot be contained within the walls of a reliquary; the history lives on in the wilds of Skyrim, continued in its living praxis by hedgewitches and Ternion monks and everything in between. Nords of today still live in the long shadows of their ancestors, and while few may wish to give it the respect it deserves, the Clever Craft dies in name alone, for its lessons are evergreen.
The fields of Whiterun, the heart of the Fatherland, have for millennia been home to the storied Hall of Jorrvaskr and the valiant Nord Companions. From the days of Ysgramor, the Companions have ever held the honor of all Nords and the growing realm of Skyrim in their words and deeds, unyielding in valor and strength; however, darkness has fallen upon the Meadhall of the Hoary King, and mirth rings out in the ancient ship's bones no more.
Ere some 60 years, shield brother and shield sister took up arms against one another in vile disagreement over one question: Who shall uphold the honor of the Companions and take up the mantle of Harbinger? It was decided that to claim Jorrvaskr was to prove the honor of one's claim, and from the division between Jorm Orc-born and Lok Merkiller came the 20 years of infighting known now as the Blood-Score.
It has been twice as long now since either would-be Harbinger died a gloriously bloody death, and yet the mighty hall remains unconquered. Some say it is fear of more bloodshed that prevents these so-called Companions from stepping forth, others believe that the ancient warriors are no more. The legacy of the Companions is not gone, however, and if a band of brothers and sisters had only the courage to stand once again for the honor of Skyrim, of ancient Nord culture, and of Ysgramor, then it need not stay in the history books.
To outlanders, Skyrim is a land of harsh storms, enduring traditions, strong warriors, and honorable - if brutal - cultural inheritance. The Nords are equally hardy, sons and daughters of storm and sky, and none would imagine first among Nords the ways of stealth or subterfuge; regardless, where there is light, there must be shadow. Where there is law, there must be crime, and not all criminals of the land are brazen challengers and highwaymen. Like in all places across Tamriel, the quick-witted and sly meet with the unscrupulous and deft to create a mutually beneficial system of advantage - in short, a Thieves' Guild.
In stark contrast to this grand Atmoran legacy, hidden in the shadows of betrayal and coin, the Thieves' Guild thrives buried under ice. Some say that the Guild exists solely as an interloper of Imperial culture, that true Sons and Daughters of Kyne would never engage in such dishonorable criminality, but others argue that this Guild shares only its name with the provincial counterparts: clans, both storied and new, trade alliances, services, agents, and gold, all sharing the same mask of the most notorious of collectives.
In the wake of the Great War, the clans and collectives of Skyrim's Guild have enjoyed a berth of opportunity and profit. In harmony with its nature as a dark mirror to society, the Thieves' Guild thrives with tragedy and must prepare to face the hardships of peace - with the White-Gold Concordat growing ever further behind, the threat of stability might mean a lack of desperation. Furthermore, the machinations of individual clans are unending, and none can ever feel certain of the loyalty of thieves.
Even after the betrayal of the White-Gold Concordat, Imperial banners fly peacefully above Skyrim's cities; taxes are collected in the Emperor's name, the moot still continues to recognize a High King, and Skyrim remains loyal to the Empire. Yet, beneath this steadfast and rugged landscape, where men of honor gather together and speak with the freedom of night, trust in Imperial authority slowly begins to rot. Growing nationalism fuels this erosion of trust in the Empire, the Empire that withdrew its forces from its provinces during a time of crisis. At the onset of the war, Hammerfell withheld the brunt of the Thalmor. In 4E 174, the Reachmen took control of Markarth with overwhelming force during the Forsworn Uprising. But to aid in the defence of the Imperial City, these costs were acceptable, and at the end of the war, so was the freedom of many Nords' faith. To this day, that scar has not healed in the Reach, and if the threat of stronger Imperial oversight looms while chaos reigns in the Fatherland, what will Kyne's children be left to do?