[hider=Rhasha'Dar]

[center][h3]"Rhasha’Dar"[/h3][/center]
[center][sub]Male Khajiit | 36 | The Shadow[/sub][/center]
[h3]Basic Information:[/h3]
[indent][b]Place of Origin[/b]: Senchal; Elsweyr

[b]Appearance[/b]: 
Rhasha’Dar is unusually large for a Cathay – standing at 6’2 and weighing about 210 pounds, he’s not what you would call a small housecat. Heavy-set and muscular, with a broad back and shoulders, one would assume to look at him that he would move slowly. However, he is incredibly light on his feet. Large hands, claws none too small, are surprisingly gentle when it comes to finer things. His fur is a light golden brown; fur around his muzzle, throat, inner torso, inner arms, inner thighs, soles of the feet and palms of the hand are a short gradient into a light cream. 

Hair on his head is grown out to shoulder length – this shade being a darker brown than his overall fur. Lots of plaits braided throughout – including several ones of different colours, ranging from an ebony black to a light caramel, from his family members. This came about before his sister fled the country – each member of the family cut and braided their hair so that each of them had a braid from each family member in their own hair; this was done in a similar manner to The Mane, whose hair is braided with countless other Khajiit’s hair. The seven braids that belong to each family member are bound with a small golden clasp, the remainder of his own simply being bound with minute leather straps. 
All stripes on his body are the same darker shade of brown as his hair: including the fur above and around his eyes, which seems to give him a perpetual scowling look.

Eyes are a deep gold; flecked with hazel. Ears are more rounded than pointed; each ear has four to five golden hoops pierced within. 
Tail is much akin to a Jaguar’s in terms of length and size – although not as long and slender as most Cathay, it still retains the same amount of balance due to the heaviness. The fur is thicker and tuftier, especially towards the tip.

Several scars mar his body – although some are minor, and of course, unavoidable in this world, there are claw marks in groups of four stretching over his torso, sides, back, and the top of his arms. Although they are not as unseemly or deep as they could have been, they are startlingly obvious due to his fur not growing back over them.
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[hider=Background]

[b]Background[/b]:
Rhasha’Dar was born in 4E 169 in Senchal, Elsweyr’s southern-most city; the third child of Ri’Nhazi; a successful business owner and merchant; and Ko’nasi – the most talented healer and Alchemist in the city. While his Father taught his business skills to his eldest son, Nhazi’m, Ko’nasi taught what she knew of alchemy to her other children; at the time, named M’Dansharr and Rhasha. 

While Rhasha’s older sister was more interested in poisons, he found the restorative side of potions to be incredibly interesting. It was this that stemmed his interest in medicine, both magical and non-magical. It was at this time in 4E 173 that two more children were born into the Khajiiti family – Ma’Zardi and Ma’Zargo, a set of twins, girl and boy respectively, born as Suthay.

While Rhasha flourished as his Mother’s Apprentice, learning both the trade of alchemy and the basics of restoration magic, his older brother Nhazi’m grew restless under his Father’s rule – he wanted to go out and find fame through fighting, not run some merchant business. Not wanting to fall out of favour with his eldest son, Ri’Nhazi agreed to pay for training in weapons on the condition that he continued working in the family business, and also passed along all he was taught to Rhasha and M’Dansharr. 

Of course, it didn’t go as swimmingly as their Father had hoped. While Nhazi’m grew incredibly fond of two-handed greatswords (Being a Cathay-Raht, it wasn’t much of a surprise that he went towards the bigger weapons) M’Dansharr was a small and nimble Suthay-Raht, and much preferred the bow or lightweight sabers; Rhasha, on the other hand, was a large Cathay, even at the young age of seven, and much better suited for a greatsword, in his brother’s opinion. So large, in fact, that there was some debate among his family over whether or not he was a Cathay or a Cathay-Raht. This was likely due to the fact that when he was born, Masser was waxing, but Secunda was halfway in its transition of waxing to full. 

Unfortunately, despite his stature, he was still far too young and small to be training with a weapon the size of that. So, for the sake of his little brother – and some diversity for himself – Nhazi’m began training in with one-handed axes, also dropping the childish ‘M’ suffix from his name, and replacing it with ‘Do’, meaning Warrior. Although some laughed at this, considering he hadn’t really done much to test his mettle, he swiftly earned the title after various skirmishes with pirates and mercenaries. Despite this, he continued his training, and training of his younger brother. 

While the two newest members to the family quickly developed a sense of mischief, even from the young age of 3, M’Dansharr was developing a far more promiscuous one – at the age of 16, gaining the prefix of ‘La’ because of her fraternisations with various men in the city.  

Unfortunately, this caused quite a bit of trouble when she turned 18 – shortly after the arrival of the youngest girl in the family in 4E 182 (M’VRhasha – Cathay), La’Dansharr ended up killing one of her suitors after he got a bit too friendly and forced himself on her. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue – but this Khajiit she had killed was related to The Mane of that time, and fearing death for her actions, she fled the country under the protection of her elder brother Nhazi’Do. 

With his older brother and mentor on fighting gone, Rhasha turned his sights on another form of combat that had interested him for a good amount of time – fighting with the Spear. Although he’d never been lucky enough to witness the spear in live-action, he’d heard enough stories –both from travellers and books – to spark an interest. 

At the age of 14, he was able to find training for this form of fighting by way of an old Khajiiti guard. Although his soldier days were well past him, he still had enough knowledge to be able to knock the young Khajiit down more than once in his training – for which he was able to pay for by way of potions for the elder Khajiit’s suffering of rockjoint, brewed by himself at that point in his life. Thanks to the training with the older Khajiit, Rhasha was finally able to learn the art of spear-fighting; and to him, an art it was. Because of his large and heavy stature, it was harder for him to mirror the same moves as his Suthay-Raht teacher; but he soon learnt to rely on his speed and skill rather than just strength. As his skill with the spear advanced, as did his athletic and acrobatic skills, eventually making his movements more fluid than brutal.

After a good four years of training with the spear, Rhasha was now a man – and was following in his brother’s footsteps in fighting against the various marauders that continued plundering the coastal towns. Despite his excellence in fighting, he valued his other skills above it – his ability to create delicate potions and poisons, and even prided himself in learning how to play the flute at a young age – one would consider it ridiculous, considering the size of his hands compared to such delicate things; but he had a tender touch when it came to his passions, and as such, took the suffix of ‘Dar’ – meaning one who is clever, or nimble-fingered (Explaining why it also means ‘Thief’) rather than the Warrior ‘Do’.  

Following this, his brother returned home, now calling himself Ri’Nhazi’Do. It was considered to be both foolish and prideful to give oneself two honourific titles within one’s name – but he was a foolishly proud Khajiit, and firmly believed he had earned both titles. In his time abroad with his sister, he had gone as far North as Skyrim with her to get her to safety – they parted ways after a year or so, and he had remained in the icy country, fighting his way through enough groups of bandits and other foolhardy enemies to gain his own mercenary group. Although he disbanded it after a good few years of pulling in the loot, he most definitely had the fire of battles set in his stomach, and it was obvious that he had no interest in taking over his Father’s company. 

In the year that followed, business in Senchal declined due to the increase of poverty among the slums, various attacks by pirates, and poor local government; therefore, the family sold the property and decided to move to Riverhold, near the border of Cyrodiil. The city was notorious for its busy marketplaces, and distinctly safer than the crime-rife Senchal.

The journey was quite safe for the family of seven, even with a young cub with them; for they found passage within a large caravan of about 50, heading towards Cyrodiil and then onto Skyrim to sell their wares. As this point, Rhasha’Dar was 19, and he had never left home for more than a month or so. Fuelled by the idealistic hopes of the other Khajiit in the caravan, and his brother’s stories of adventuring in his years away from home, Rhasha’Dar finally decided it was time to go and see the world for himself. 

After seeing his family safe and settled in Riverhold, he gave his farewells, joining the caravan only to find out that Ma’Zardi and Ma’Zargo had decided to join him. They weren’t exactly warriors themselves – they were teenage entertainers, scoundrels, and the most jovial of company until you found that they had robbed you blind. However, they were no longer cubs, so he could do nothing to make them stay. His Mother and Father were proud to see him leave – and his elder brother immensely so. So proud, in fact, that he gifted him with his prized War-Axes. A stunning pair of Elvish axes, the blades were wickedly sharp, but were just as lightweight as Rhasha’Dar preferred.
 
According to his brother, he won these after killing an entire garrison of Thalmor by himself. Rhasha’Dar was only too happy to accept the ridiculous story, as the present was more than invaluable. To the younger twins, he gave Elvish daggers. Naturally, the pair began play-fighting with them as soon as they were on the road, resulting in an injury that naturally, Rhasha’Dar was left to heal.

As the three journeyed from Riverhold into Cyrodiil, the difference was almost instantaneous. Although Riverhold was beyond the desert and in the grasslands, the air still remained arid and warm – entrance into Cryodiil swiftly changed that. Their first port of call was the city of Skingrad, in 4E 188 – just under a year since he and his family left Senchal. The group then moved onto Chorrol, the Imperial City, and Bruma, before doubling-back south to visit Cheydinhal. From there, they made their way to Riften, before the harshness of winter set in – they arrived at the city at the turn of the year, in 4E 189.

The caravan then began moving west, stopping at Ivarstead, Helgen, Falkreath, and a somewhat harrowing journey towards Markarth. This took them the good part of two years – the terrain of Skyrim proved to be far more difficult to traverse than the warmer country of Cyrodiil, and many of them still had to grow accustomed to the cold, the dangerous fauna, and the casual racism of many Nords.

It was at a tavern in Markarth – one which Rhasha’Dar had immediately entered upon arrival, figuring he deserved a good drink after such a harrowing journey, that he met Sylvanis. Interestingly enough, despite the twin’s imp-like behaviour around her, she was interested in travelling with the caravan onto Whiterun, which was their next stop. Extending the invitation, he and Sylvanis developed a decent camaraderie on the road, he teaching her some Restoration spells after one too many depletions of his bandage stock, following some sort of brawl with another drunk or a pack of wolves.

After leaving Whiterun, the caravan headed towards Windhelm. However, this journey proved to be their most difficult yet. The snows were growing heavier each day, and roughly a day south of Kynesgrove, they were attacked by something never before seen by any of them: A Werewolf.

While Rhasha’Dar and a few others were gathering food (And alchemical ingredients, for his own wants; despite the harsh snows, he was happy to see new and unknown ingredients within Skyrim), it descended on them, cutting down two before the others could even react. Out of the handful that were there, Rhasha’Dar was the strongest warrior; and he attacked the werewolf with a bestial cry that challenged even the beasts’ roar; for his younger siblings were a part of the group, and he would be damned before he let this thing lay one claw or tooth on them.

Naturally, he couldn’t withstand attacks from a beast such as a werewolf for long. Not only did it surpass him in brute strength, but the speed in which it attacked was outstanding. Only twenty seconds into the battle and the werewolf remained untouched, but Rhasha’Dar was suffering from deep rends on his upper arms from the claws of the wolf. Frankly, it was the spear and luck that saved him that day; as the werewolf attacked again, Rhasha’Dar rammed the shaft of his spear lengthways into the werewolf’s maw- keeping its venomous teeth away from him. However, this left its claws free to tear up whatever flesh it could lay its paws on. 

By the time the other showed up to distract and eventually kill the wolf through sheer numbers, it had killed a quarter of the caravan – and Rhasha’Dar barely remained conscious enough to cast a healing spell on the worst of his wounds, before succumbing to blood-loss.

Despite the extent of his injuries, the caravan was able to heal him quite well. Although it helped that he had cast a heal-self spell before passing out, several potions, medicines and spells from the other Khajiit meant that he awoke with no disfigurements or lasting damage.
Or so he thought.

Despite the fact that he had not been bitten by the wolf, he was incredibly worried about the fact that he may have contracted the disease of Lycanthropy. He had no desire to become a blood-thirsty, mindless beast, nor did he want to join Hircine in the Afterlife. Therefore, three days after the attack, he stumbled out into the wilderness, hoping that if he did turn, it would be away from his family and friends.

However, after hours in the cold snow, he found no changes in himself. He had no desire to act aggressively, nor howl at the moon. It was only when the caravan finally arrived in Windhelm a few weeks later that he discovered an odd consequence from the attack – a curious weakness to silver. Accidently nicking the palm of his hand on a silver blade, he was astounded to see the wound weep far more blood than was normal, and the burning pain of it. Further worries of Lycanthropic tendencies arose, and he ventured to the local Alchemists to see what they made of it. Following this, it was decided by the grumpy yet wise Altmer within that he was not a Werewolf, but the contact with it had passed on the weakness to silver. 

What with his injuries not completely healed, Rhasha’Dar had the caravan move on to Winterhold without him, promising to meet up with them in Winterhold in a year’s time. There were certain things he wished to do himself – for one, track down his sister La’Dansharr, who, according to his Ri’Nhazi-Do, sent her last letter to him from Falkreath. Secondly, he wished to visit the Shrine of Azura – although the statue was devoted to the Elven Lady of the Moon and Stars, he believed that she and Azurah, the creator of Khajiit, (and a Goddess he both admired greatly and worshipped) were one and the same, and therefore, deserved a pilgrimage. Thirdly, he wanted to work on his skills. As made obvious by the werewolf, he wasn’t nearly as skilled in single combat as he should be, especially in a world as dangerous as this one.

And so, he remained in Windhelm – receiving daily bouts of racism from the local Nords, and threats from the guards, but life was definitely safer within the walls, especially in his weakened state. Naturally, most Nord-run inns denied him entrance, expecting him to be a thief and run off without paying for the room; however, the Dunmer were only too happy to rent him a room in the Grey Quarter. Spending most of his time in there or at The White Phial (Making potions for Nurelion, the grumpy Altmer, in return for some tips and even gold at times.).  When he was fully healed, he restarted his training in combat.

It was at this point that the Nords grew accustomed to the Khajiit - often seen in empty courtyards practicing manoeuvres with his spear or axes. Some of the more racist ones simply stood and jeered, but after a few weeks, others began dropping hints or tips, and eventually offering to spar. Certain guards that patrolled his favoured training spots sometimes worked in groups to fight him; whether this was to help, to get out of guard duty for a while, or simply an excuse to try and hurt him, he didn’t know. But over time, his skill swiftly grew, old techniques he had learnt as a young cat coming back to the front of his memory.

Keeping his promise to the Caravan, he made his way to Winterhold a year after their departure from Windhelm – however, upon greeting them and spending a few days together, he stated that he would be staying solo for an indeterminate amount of time. He still had not taken his Pilgrimage to Lady Azurah, nor had he made any progress in finding his sister. Upon saying his goodbyes, he journeyed south, this time going straight to the Shrine of Azura.

The path was not as dangerous as he first thought – whether that was because luck shone on him, or that his training had finally paid off, he did not know. But as he ascended the steps towards the breath-taking statue of his lady, the clouds parted, revealing Masser and Secunda in their full glory, stars and lights dancing across the sky. After paying his respects, and receiving a blessing from the priestess there, he then continued on to Falkreath, feeling more at peace than he had in a good long while.

However, the search for his sister proved to be far less fruitful. Upon arriving back in Falkreath, even he thought it was a bit of a stretch to expect the denizens of the town to remember one person passing through from nearly a decade ago. However, a lone Khajiit does indeed stand out from a caravan of them, and after a few days of asking, a local Nord merchant by the name of Solaf found Rhasha’Dar – according to him, they spent some time... “bonding”.

However, she up and left one night, not even telling him or anyone why she left so suddenly. Apparently the guards didn’t even see her leave in the dead of the night.

All that was left behind was a note – on it a black handprint, and the words: “We know.”

Solaf gave the parchment to Rhasha’Dar, hoping he could shed some light on why she would leave such a strange letter.

Clearly, the stupid Nord hadn’t realised the handprint wasn’t a Khajiiti one.

It was at this, Rhasha’Dar became lost on where to go next. He was no tracker or thief; he couldn’t find someone through contacts in Skyrim, simply because he had barely any.

However, he did not need worry – for it was his sister who found him, in the end. On the road from Falkreath to Markarth, Rhasha’Dar found himself suddenly knocked to the floor and a dagger placed to his neck. However, the familiar purring voice of his sister prevented him from skewering her with his spear, and the two embraced, glad to see each other after so many years.

Although she was under oath to keep it a secret, La’Dansharr decided to tell her little brother about where she had been anyway – she was never one to keep secrets from family, and Rhasha’Dar knew how to keep his mouth shut. He was less than surprised to find out she had become an Assassin for the Dark Brotherhood; she had never been one to shy away from killing, and with the more than promiscuous lifestyle she led, it was apparent that a repeat of what had happened In Elsweyr had happened here. Rather than fearing death, it had granted her a cushy job, a place to call home, and a new family.

The pair travelled together for a few days – departing at the crossroads before Rorikstead, and promising to stay in touch as much as possible.
With everything he wished for fulfilled, Rhasha’Dar continued focusing on his skills; joining various mercenary groups, fulfilling bounties for Jarls, and raiding the odd tomb now and again, he continued this lonesome lifestyle until 4E 201, when the Civil War began, along with the Dragon Crisis. It was at this point he rejoined his caravan, wanting to protect it as much as possible. After several years, the twins had certainly grown more, undoubtedly skilled in their own areas of expertise... including immaturity. The caravan had also changed – although smaller than when he had last been with it, many of the members were brand new, some of them not even Khajiit. It seemed that many people were looking for strength in numbers in these hard times.

Thankfully, the caravan managed to avoid most of the chaos, and the closest a dragon came to them was thankfully very distracted by a nearby Giant and its Mammoths, allowing them to move on without fear of attack. Business was also lucrative, with both sides purchasing items from them.

By 4E 205, Rhasha’Dar had once again grown tired of the caravan lifestyle. He was unable to really improve his skills while with them, and as they stuck to the safest trade routes possible, it was rare for them to happen across anything more dangerous than a bear or a small group of bandits. Although Rhasha’Dar was hardly one for looking for fights, there was a call to battle and blood that had existed in his veins ever since that near-fatal attack over a decade ago; whether it was some form of Lycan bloodlust inherited along with the weakness to silver, or simply a by-product of wanting to better himself to protect others, he did not know. But with the caravan now stopping in Windhelm once again, he welcomed the familiar city with the hopes of finding a new band of like-minded people to journey with.
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[b]Personality[/b]:
Rhasha’Dar is a softly-spoken and shrewd individual; he greatly values brains over brawn, although he isn’t foolish enough to rely on just one. As such, he’s kept himself rather balanced between the two, which has given him a somewhat diplomatic stance on what to do in certain situations. As is common for a Khajiit like himself, when met with racist threats or insults, he simply ignores them or counters them with words rather than fists; and generally, this leads to a lack of conflict.

It’s rare to see his temper snap – as a whole, he is very calm, and perhaps one could even say peaceful. He has no inner conflicts, and takes most insults calmly, for he’s wise enough to know that words cannot hurt him, so why waste time and energy fussing over them?
Because of this outlook, he hasn’t developed any kind of animosity towards Nords or Argonians; he treats each person with a quiet respect, no matter the hate they have spewed at him. On the other hand, the one thing he cannot stand are those who bully the weak, and addicts.
To him, insults mean nothing. But if he witnesses some brute of a man bullying an obviously weak person, he is swift to stand in their favour. For bullies are cowards, and cowardice is something that he does not appreciate.

As for addicts, he finds it hard to find sympathy for them – specifically Khajiiti who are hooked on Skooma. They give the rest of his species a very bad name, and he personally thinks that if they disappeared, the Khajiit could finally be treated with respect for once. Although he would never outright harm someone addicted to Skooma, he would not be very likely to help them.

However, when among friends, the stoic Khajiit can relax plenty – it is rare for him to be offended by a joke, and he’s spent enough time with his mischievous siblings to appreciate acts of cunning and imp-like behaviour. Although considerate to most, it is among his friends that his true kindness shows.
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[h3]Capabilities:[/h3]
[indent]
[b]Skills[/b]: 
Expert: Alchemy
Adept: One-Handed Axe, Spear
Apprentice: Acrobatics, Athletics, Duel-Wielding, Restoration
Novice: Medicine (Non-Magical), Medium Armour, Provisioning


[b]Weaknesses[/b]:
Severe weakness to silver; silver touching his skin will irritate it, although thanks to his fur, there isn’t much chances of that occurring. It’s when he’s harmed by silver that his weakness will truly show – the wound will bleed profusely and burn like a fire.
A great amount of sympathy towards victims of War and the Downtrodden.
Has a great dislike towards Skooma addicts of his own species – they give Khajiit an overall bad name, and should be considered worse than the racists that persecute the entire race as a whole because of them. This has caused conflict with he and many Khajiit, because there are many Khajiiti addicts.


[b]Relations and Affiliations[/b]:
Due to being in a Caravan for a good few years, is familiar with most, if not all, of the trading caravans that run through Skyrim, and a handful that are in Cyrodiil.

[b][u]Ri’Nhazi-Do;[/u][/b] His elder Cathay-Raht brother; upon remaining in Riverhold with his parents and youngest sister M’Vhrasha, he joined the army and began working his way up in the ranks. By the time the North began its siege on the South, he was a respected General, and helped lead the armies through Torval, aiding greatly in the overtaking of it. He is currently on the march towards Senchal, his previous home, in the hopes that if it is taken, it could be improved, and he could one day move back to it.

[b][u]La’Dansharr;[/u][/b] His elder Suthay-Raht sister, an Assassin in the Dark Brotherhood. Chances are that they know that she told him, but there hasn’t been actions taken against either party; probably because Rhasha’Dar knows how to keep a secret. She pops up occasionally to give him a hand, or just to talk... usually if she’s killed somebody near by.

[b][u]Ma’Zargo & Ma’Zardi;[/u][/b] The younger Suthay-Raht twins. Impish, nimble-handed, and extremely entertaining, they have grown into quite the notorious pair. They have travelled with the Caravan throughout most of their time in Skyrim, but disappeared for a month or so in the depths of Solitude. When they emerged, one seemed to have been married, and the other one had apparently blown up a local skooma gang’s stash of moon sugar. Fair to say, they left the city quickly, and rejoined their caravan.

[u][b]Denizens of Windhelm;[/b][/u] many people in the city are known to him, due to he being the only Khajiit with enough balls to actually sleep and live in the city limits for a good long while. While many of the Nords are still rascist, he’s on very good terms with many Dunmer; and also friendly with the various merchants found in the market, such as the Blacksmith, and the Alchemists.

[u][b]Sylvanis;[/b][/u] Rhasha’Dar became friends with the Bosmer after their journey together – after one too many fights, he taught her some basic restoration skills.



[b]Spells[/b]: 
Restoration: Fast Healing; Healing Hands; Steadfast Ward; Turn Lesser Undead.



[b]Combat Style[/b]:	
Rhasha’Dar is hardly one to shy away from conflict – if the situation demands it, that is. If a fight cannot be talked out of, then he is always ready to make some heads roll.
Although he prefers using his spear over his axes, it doesn’t particularly mean he’s afraid to get close to the enemy. In fact, with the acrobatic manner in which he uses his spear, he generally gets quite close to an enemy; knocking to the floor with the shaft of his spear before sticking them with the blade. As for his axes, well... any brutality left over from his training with his spear is definitely funnelled into his axes.



[b]Other Capabilities[/b]: 
Possibly thanks to his ability to create potions, he’s a rather talented cook – he knows how to balance flavours well, and creates meals that are pretty good considering they’re from a campfire.
A talented flute player – although he has an awful singing voice.
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[h3]Inventory:[/h3]
[indent]

[b]Cash[/b]:
14 Septims

[b]Keys and Lockpicks[/b]:
One lockpick – he has no experience in picking locks, but it never hurts to have one just in case.
One key to the residence of Belyn Hlaalu – After staying here for the majority of stay in Windhelm, paying rent, Belyn let him keep his key to the house in case he ever came back, which he was most welcome to do so at any time.
One key to the residence of his family in Riverhold – his Father insisted he take the key for when he eventually comes home.
One key for a chest in the caravan – everyone in the caravan got their own chest, be it big or small. He doesn’t keep much in it, but it’s useful should he ever need to store something important.


[b]Clothing and Armor[/b]:
Rhasha’Dar’s armour is a mish-mash of various types, all picked up throughout his travels. In battle, he generally wears a leather jerkin beneath a light chainmail and then thicker leather armour – all of which are sleeveless - over that. Paired with this are iron pauldrons, padded with leather underneath, that cover his bare shoulders and upper arms. Leather gauntlets adorn his lower arms, being gloveless, as he prefers his hands being free. He wears leather greaves, so as to make his movements with more ease – boots are studded leather. With this he wears a thick hooded cloak.

His armour has been very battered recently, with holes in the leather and chainmail from attacks. He doesn't have the money to have it repaired or replaced, so he continues to wear it for the time being. A lot of leather is very blood-stained, too.

He doesn’t care much for casual clothes – seeing it as an unnecessary burden. In his downtime he can usually just be seen wearing an undershirt and leather trousers, both of which he generally wears underneath his armour. He does keep one spare shirt, however.


[b]Weapon and Ammunition[/b]:
One Spear – The shaft is made of a strong oak, standing at about 6’0 – the head is a wickedly sharp steel blade, about 8 inches long, barbed at the base to add extra injury when removing from an enemy. It was given to him by his trainer in Senchal, as he said he no longer had a use for it.
Two Elven War Axes – gifted to him by his brother.
One small steel dagger – He has no skill with blades, but it never hurts to carry a small knife.


[b]Potion and Arcane Supplies[/b]:
4 Medium health potions.
3 Small stamina potions.
3 Small magicka potions.
1 Resist Cold potion.
1 Cure Disease potion.
Mortar and Pestle.
A small Calcinator.
A small Retort.
Small amount of assorted alchemical ingredients left over from brewing potions; not enough ingredients to create another potion.


[b]Jewelry and Novelty Items[/b]:
[s]Amulet of Azurah – a small brass pendant depicting the sun and the moon together. Each child in his family has received one of these.[/s] - Left behind at Nightgate Inn
A flute – he’s had this since he was just a cub, and still plays regularly. He’s rather talented at it too.
A tobacco pipe – unlike many of his kin smoking moon sugar, he prefers tobacco. He often has to replace the pipe stem, as he tends to chew on the bit of it while he smokes.


[b]Books and Documents[/b]:
A journal in which he writes in daily – he is currently documenting his travels across the continent, hoping that they could get published into books one day. He’s already filled five – of which he sends home via courier for his family to read. Naturally, he’s left certain information out – such as his sister’s employment, and negative affects following his encounter with the werewolf. Only a fool would write down their weaknesses for anyone to read. He also writes down his experiments with various ingredients – either in potions, poisons, or smoked with tobacco.

Dunmeri orders from the Armigers; given to him by his sister.


[b]Food, Drinks, Provisions[/b]:
A skin of water; full.
[s]Tobacco leaf.[/s] - Restocking needed
Dried meat; Purchased in Dawnstar, enough for three days.
Hardtack; Purchased in Dawnstar, enough for three days.
Smoked fish; Purchased in Dawnstar, enough for three days.


[b]Bags, Pouches, Packs[/b]:
He has one large knapsack, atop of which he carries his bedroll and items. Most of his ingredients are in separate little vials and pouches throughout the majority of his knapsack – other pockets on it hold his food and other items that he isn’t already wearing.
Also has additional pouches on his belt.


[b]Other[/b]:
One small pot of ink, and a quill.
[s]2 sticks of charcoal.[/s] - Restocking needed.
A small supply of bandages, slings, remedies, and various other non-magical medical equipment. ((Restocked at Dawnstar after payment.))
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