[hider=Sevari][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/YsRbfX0.jpg[/img] [i]Dar'Sevari, as he was known, in his Bhaanu Saasra secret police armor, modeled after Thalmor Justiciar robes, and holding his Commissioned Officer's glass sword- a badge of his rank's office- since abandoned in the sands.[/i][/center] [B]Name:[/B] Sevari, Dar'Sevari, Do'Sevari, Shiburi ibn Sev'Ahmet, Savian Kastav, Dar’Jango [B]Race:[/B] Khajiit, Ohmes-Raht [B]Sex:[/B] Male [B]Age:[/B] 42 [B]Birthsign: The Thief[/B] [B]Family Origins:[/B] Torval, Pelletine [B]Appearance:[/B] Dar'Sevari is a very taciturn man when not occupied mocking life’s circumstances and events grimly. His skin is brown as his clothing and his mane descends to a 'beard' of sorts that wraps around his jaw and chin, kept long and the top of his hair is tied up in a knot, the rest left flowing. He is not unlike most Khajiit and does choose to ornament himself with pieces of jewelry- a moonstone piercing at the tip of his mane's widow's peak as well as two braids with moonstone and gold beads in them on either side of his head, dangling earrings of moonstone hang from his lobes as well. A keep-sake from his childhood near-hugs his neck, brass beads given to him by a childhood love. As an Ohmes-Raht, his more 'human' features could be called chiseled by the other races. There have been times where he was mistaken for a very tanned Altmer or Bosmer because he chooses to forgo the Ohmes habit of tattooing the face to accentuate their more feline features and appear more 'Khajiit.' This has led to problems with other Khajiit, saying that he chooses to forsake his people and look more like the pink-skins. Many think him Colovian-Mer mix, if not Mer outright, until thy see a good look of his cat-like pupils. His flat eyes that look much like his feline counterparts will throw those who mistake him as mer or man far off. Colleagues in the Bhaanu Saasra and his former Altmer contacts and handlers have described his hazel gaze as unnervingly predatory in their interactions with him. His feline-like lips natural orientation is a frown, giving him a resting face that looks as if he is apathetic to all around him. This could not be more far from the truth, a Khajiit with a fire burning quietly inside him for both man and mer. No love for the Thalmor and no love for the Empire. Those who have caught him shirtless will be surprised at the presence of tattoos of flowing Khajiiti script as well as well as simple sayings in Cyrod, andimages and symbols ascribed to good luck and protection from both physical harm and evil spirits in the Colovian and Nibenese culture. These tattoos were gotten during his time as an outlaw in Elsweyr and Valenwood, an eclectic tapestry hidden beneath his shirt and sleeves from spending years with an eclectic band of villains. Broad of shoulder and thick of limb, he has a predatory build reminiscent of a sabrecat, lean and with no wasted mass. He stands at a slightly imposing 6’2 but slouches to 5’10”, making himself seem smaller and more unassuming. Sevari wastes no energy, always moving deliberately until the time comes. When it does, he can bring all 240 pounds to bear in deadly shows of explosive strength and blinding speed. A list of Sevari’s tattoos- Epaulettes denoting a leader role in a gang Bust portraits of Rislav, Talos An image of Pelinal in battle with Umaril, symbolizing a war with mer, the appearance of Pelinal also denotes a contempt for Khajiit of his homeland The Red Diamond A sword on his collarbones going through his neck, denoting a murderer for hire A ship with white sails, denoting a traveling criminal prone to escape A tattoo on his left middle finger knuckle of a knife and a K, denoting a killer A chapel on his back with three steeples, representing 3 years served in a jail ‘Thank you Anequina for my ruined youth’ on his lower chest in Khajiiti script ‘It is good to be brave’ in Khajiiti script ‘Absurdity has become necessity’ in Khajiiti script ‘Fusozay Var Var, Fusozay Var Dar’; Enjoy Life, Kill Without Qualm, on either side of his chest ‘Ahzirr Traajijazeri’; We Justly Take By Force ‘Renrijra’; Scum/Mercenary/Criminal A bust of Boethia in contempt of Aldmer/Altmer regime and culture, as well as a contempt for authority Eyes on the back of his shoulders, signifying that he can not be snuck up on nor swindled An image of a hooded figure with a dagger, denoting a willingness to violence and a prevalence of dark moods Colovian Saying: ‘Memento Mori’, Remember you will die [B]Equipment:[/B] His armor consists of a coat of wine-red padded cloth, chainmail sewn between the two outer layers. His weapons are of the Khajiiti style, two Senche-Claw daggers, an odd knife with a ring pommel designed to be worn on the forefinger like a ring, the blade is curved and edged on the concave side, five inches in blade length. For when a longer weapon is needed, he carries a curved Khajiiti shortsword in the Rimmen and Torval style- heavily inspired by the Akaviri blades of the warriors who settled and then dwindled off there long ago, paired with the longer version. He also carries climbing claws that double as close-range weapons, a rope dart, and a steel wire garrote. For ranged attacks he carries a Dwemer breech-loaded, lever-action carbine. It takes some time to reload and holds only one round but can make a nice meal out of some of the best-made plate armor with the big bullet it spits out. The formerly mentioned weapons, his armor and robes are all kept bundled up on the side of his saddle. For everyday use, he only wears a simple Hammerfell tunic, cloth pants under buck-skin chausses blouses into worn leather curve-toe Redguard boots, a coat depending on the weather and a wide-brimmed ranger’s hat, one side upturned and laying against the cap of the hat, and a large shemagh that drapes around his shoulders to be used as a mask or hood. Unless he’s fully expecting the fight, he’ll only have his bone-handle messer, 2’ of thick steel meant for chopping, his senche-claw daggers, a pistol, and his carbine bundled up on his back. [B]Misc. Possessions:[/B] Mortar & Pestle Week's worth of dried rations A map of whichever province he's in as well as maps of different areas of said province Tinder and matches w/ flint and steel Bedroll Smoking blend of tobacco, raspberry leaves and moon sugar wrapped in moon sugar leaves, thick as his forefinger, a cigar they call it in High Rock Misc. ingredients for making poultices [B]Family and Associations:[/b] Do'Nehket, father – Deceased Lling, mother - Deceased Fusosi, brother - Deceased Suffian, brother - Killed Jivami, brother – Deceased Zaveed, estranged brother - Alive Marassa, Estranged Childhood Love - Alive Aeliel, Thalmor handler – Killed Variel, Thalmor Justiciar – Killed Dar'Fujo, Khajiiti Bhaanu Saasra secret police assassin – Killed Dar'Khali, Khajiiti Bhaanu Saasra secret police assassin – Killed Cristus Falcus Aurelius, Penitus Oculatus handler - Retired Sa’ad al-Arwa, Penitus Oculatus Handler, Hammerfell - Killed Farukh ibn al-Diwadi, Penitus Oculatus Inspector, Poncy Man’s Liaison - KIA Quintus Remus Callus, Penitus Oculatus Inspector - Killed Members of the Black Dog Brigands - Retired, Jailed, or Hanged [B]Favoured Skills:[/B] Highly Proficient: One-Handed Moderately Proficient: Hand-to-Hand | Marksmanship | Sneak Somewhat Proficient: Alteration | Illusion | Destruction [Indent][B]Spell List:[/B][/Indent] Oakflesh Stoneflesh Magelight Fear Muffle Lightning Bolt Firebolt [B]History:[/B] [i]“What are you going to do now?” Suffian asked, the desert winds whipping his scarf and bringing a chill to the moment. Sevari took his time, as he did with every action that held weight to it he'd ever made in his life. He looked in his brother's eyes and he could tell that Suffian already knew him well enough to know what the answer would be. “I'll hunt them.” Sevari spoke, “I will break before I bend in this task.”[/i] [center]* * *[/center] The slums of Torval in 166 are much the same as they are in 208- dirty, bloody, downtrodden. It was into this gutter that little Sevari and his brothers were thrown. First Fusosi, then Suffian, then Jivami, and finally Sevari. The moons were just right to let Sevari walk Nirn forever as Ohmes-Raht, as a Cat-Man, as an outcast. The more feline of the Khajiit held no love for those without snouts or bodies covered with fur. It was Sevari's lot in life to live it alone, his second eldest brother, Suffian, his only respite in the coldness. His father had been called away before his birth to fight in the Dominion's war against man, leaving him without much guidance but his own two feet and fists, which he used on many an occasion against those who insulted his mother or himself, never starting the fights but always finishing them. When he reached the age of 7, his father returned home, a scarred and bitter man though he held the trappings of a commissioned officer of the Confederacy. If there was any love to be shown upon his father's return then no one had given Sevari notice. His brothers may have known the man fleetingly, but he did not. A stranger in his home was being celebrated, but he held the same glower as Sevari at the festivities, the only thing Sevari could connect with. His father had better plans to live in the slums of Torval now that he was an officer with a salary befitting one, so he applied for a Writ of Passage from the Imperials, having it almost immediately denied. A request to the Dominion held the obvious opposite, so he packed the family's things- or whatever they could carry- and they hitched with a merchant caravan heading north upon Sevari's father's retirement. It was their first step to High Rock, away from the Thalmor and the Dominion's influence. The journey went well for little Sevari and his family, though he did not make any attempts at bonding with the man who had apparently sired him, angst and spite's hands had rested their hands on his shoulders it seemed. Between that and the fact his father seemed to be uncaring towards Sevari's estrangement, Sevari did not know what cut him deeper. His mother was a constant voice in his ear, as she always was, that he should make an effort to know his father. For some reason, it only made him do the opposite. He always loved his mother and took heed to her counsel, but in this, he would break before he would bend. He owed nothing to this stranger. On the second week of traveling north, the caravan is stopped by highwaymen. Sevari would have liked the story to end with his father leading the defense against the highwaymen, striking them down in defense of his family and the others in the caravan, but Sevari had known since his birth that fate never gives you the lightest weight to bear, the best hand to play. A crossbow bolt caught his father in the forehead, killing him almost instantly. The bloodshed followed soon after. He remembered being rooted to the spot as the caravan was dealt with like lambs to the slaughter. He watched the highwaymen cut them all down, what they did to his mother and the others, before Suffian grabbed him by the arm. He was running, until his legs hurt, until his chest burned, until his body screamed at him to stop. Until they were lost. They wandered the wet forests of Cyrodiil for some time before being found somewhere near the border by Justiciars. Fusosi and Suffian told them the tale and the Justiciars whisked them away, back to Torval, where their papers said they were from. With no other family to speak of, they are put away with the temple to the Eight Divines on the farthest edge of the city, no one the wiser to their existence. Sevari and his brothers earn their keep by digging beggars' graves and keeping the grounds, Sevari keeping to himself and roiling in the anger inside of himself. His mother was dead because of the greed of men and the whimsy of a stranger that led them astray. After months of this meaningless toil, their salvation appeared one morn in the form of a black-robed Altmer who spoke to the sisters of the temple in hushed tones for a long time, most of the day, as Sevari recalls. At the end of it, the Altmer tells them that he is to come with him. They leave the temple behind with the setting sun. Sevari had never been to Senchal before, but the Altmer- whose name they had learned was Aeliel on the road- certainly gave them a proper introduction. At least, an introduction to how the well-off lived. Aeliel owned a sprawling property outside of Senchal, a cozy villa at its heart that they would call home for the duration of their stay with Aeliel. Though, they were free to come and go as they pleased, Sevari opting to try to spend as much time alone as he could by disappearing into the city. It turns out the task was a failure, and he came out the other end of it with two new friends after his first day in the city. Four long years there living hard in the streets with the closest thing he had to family and love in so long only made it sting more when the Bhaanu Sasra came to collect on Sevari’s debt to Aeliel. They gave him no choice, a knife at his neck, and a pommel to the head when he wouldn’t hush and stop biting and punching. He met his brothers, almost estranged, back at Aeliel’s villa. They lived well there, and one day Aeliel told them of why he had truly taken them in his care. He knew their father when he was yet living, a fine officer if there ever was one, and he knew the circumstances of his death. If they wished to make sure that the scum of Nirn could never do the same to another living soul, then they would take the opportunity. Sevari agreed, if only to sate the anger and angst that had set themselves in his bones like a cancer. They spend weeks learning the tenets and doctrine of the Bhaanu Sasra, the secret police force that kept the peace and stability of the Confederacy under the Dominion, working hand-in-hand with the Thalmor Justiciary. It is after months of training in the arts of spying and killing that they become full-fledged members of the Bhaanu Sasra. Under the command of Aeliel and his Thalmor subordinates, they carry out the will of the Dominion in defense of the Confederacy against all its enemies, both foreign and domestic. The Renrijra Krin, dissidents against the Confederacy, Penitus Oculatus assets, traffickers of slaves and contraband. It is not Sevari's patriotism that guides his hand though, it is his thirst to right the wrongs done to him by both man and Khajiit, an all-consuming contempt against both that had grown in him since his early years. After years of this work, he is approached by a shadowy man who claims to know the truth behind the events that led to him and his brothers being orphaned. On one of his midnight strolls on his off-time in the lonely, quiet parts of Senchal, a man named Cristus confronts him. His father held no love for what his homeland had become, he had given his allegiance in secret to the Penitus Oculatus and the cause of the Empire to keep the Dominion at bay or destroy them wholly. It was for this reason that he was tracked down and killed, and it was because of that eventuality from which he died that he took his family and fled. Cristus explained that he had cautioned against such rash decisions, especially the one about bringing his family along. Luck was Sevari and his brothers' only savior those years ago. Sevari walks away from the man and his offer to do the same as his father did and throw in with the Empire. Though the seed of reason to kill Aeliel if it was true had been planted. Looking back, Sevari knew that Cristus knew what he was doing by bringing him into the fold first. Upon his return home, he shares the news of his encounter with his brothers. Jivami threatens to sell him out to Aeliel for knowing what he knows now, but Suffian brings them all around after hours of yelling back and forth. With all the commotion, Sevari was surprised Aeliel didn't burst into their dorm and kill them on the spot. Days go by while Sevari and his brothers decide on what to do with this revelation. Treat it like a lie? Feed into it and go to Cristus? Kill Aeliel themselves and be done with the whole thing? After one assignment in Orcrest, Sevari returns home and meets Suffian at the usual tea shop, but their brothers do not come to meet them, even after a couple of hours of waiting. They look for them on the streets when they spot a crowd forming around something. Sevari and Suffian smell it first, a stench now familiar. Death. Hanged and gutted from the lamp-post, the wind makes swaying omens of Fusosi and Jivami's corpses. A grisly scene of random violence to the crowd but to Sevari and Suffian, it is a very clear warning. Sevari clenches his fist and knows what he is to do. He disappears with Suffian, hiding from Thalmor and city guard alike, awaiting nightfall before they make their hasty flight from Senchal. Suffian wants to go north to Hammerfell to hide, while Sevari wants to hide just long enough to form a plan on Aeliel's life for what he's done. They spend days without being harassed, no attempts on their life, no tails spotted in the crowds following them, nothing. Cristus finds them first and tells them to meet him in Orcrest if they want a chance at a new, quiet life away from here. Sevari finds that entire prospect all wrong, but agrees to it if it means getting out of the city. For that, they throw in with a caravan going north, terribly ironic, much to Sevari's chagrin whenever he remembers the day. They make good time and are several miles out from Senchal before they are accosted by Renrijra Krin. Sevari and Suffian manage to defend the caravan successfully with the help of the hired guard the caravan owner had hired. While the guards were looting the bodies after the battle, Suffian calls Sevari over to where he stands over two corpses of the Renrijra Krin. He points to them and Sevari realizes that he recognizes the faces- Dar'Fujo and Dar'Khali, two assassins he once called his colleagues. Aeliel knows where they are, but he hopes they make it to Orcrest before Aeliel suspects the assassination attempt had gone awry. Sevari's luck held, it seems, and they made it to Orcrest's gates without much more commotion after that. Cristus finds them and they sit down to talk at a local tea shop. After Suffian's protests, he assures them that they are safe here. The Captain of the Guard in Orcrest is paid to turn a blind eye to Penitus Oculatus here and Orcrest is a secret haven for staging intelligence operations in Elsweyr because of it. They have allies everywhere in Orcrest, if only they agree to carrying out justice against Aeliel on his and the Oculatus's terms. Sevari knows that Cristus is not helping them out of the kindness of his heart, Sevari's used hired help and developed spies of his own to help in his assignments before. Cristus was doing the same to them. Even so, Sevari and Suffian agree. Cristus wants to hire mercenaries and raid Aeliel's villa. Their main objective is to kill or capture Aeliel, and steal any important documents they might find along their way in that task. They make the trek back to Senchal, though they find every step harder than the last after all the things endured in that damned port city. But they had their orders, and Sevari had his agenda. They rendezvous with Cristus and the mercenaries at sunset and set themselves to their task after the sky darkens. It is a bloody affair, fighting through Khajiiti soldiers, Justiciars and a few Bhaanu Sasra trainees and their cadre. The fight lasts hours until almost all of the enemy is either dead or surrendered. When Sevari and Suffian lead the mercenaries to the inner chambers to find Aeliel, they finally corner their greatest foe and end his life without much formality. Sevari and Suffian's hope of this being all over are dashed when they find that it is only Aeliel's body double laying bloody on the ground. The mission is not a complete failure though, a litany of Aeliel’s plans with other members of the Thalmor in their conspiracy to silence Khajiiti dissenters and stop any leaks. They sink back into the night to plot their next move while Cristus parts ways with them again until he finds out just where Aeliel had left to. A week goes by while Sevari and Suffian take refuge in a Penitus Oculatus safehouse in Senchal. Cristus finally shows up on their doorstep and gives them the true whereabouts of Aeliel- the Thalmor embassy in the Imperial City. He will be there for a month. Sevari and Suffian make the trip to Cyrodiil and confront Aeliel on the quiet night streets of the White-Gold city. Sevari and Suffian attempt to kill Aeliel in his bed chambers but Cristus warns them that he will leak Sevari and Suffian’s whereabouts to the Thalmor if they kill him too brazenly, speaking about the tenuous political climate the Empire and the Dominion rest on. It takes much negotiation from Suffian to get Sevari to not throw everything so far away and rush into Aeliel's chambers with a blade thirsty for the mer's blood. In the end, Sevari agrees. With that, the two impatiently watch Aeliel from the shadows, biding their time for a few nights. Finally, Aeliel's diplomatic mission is complete, or at least his objective here is. Either way, Sevari and Suffian know that their chance is coming. Aeliel leaves the Imperial City in his personal carriage with a small troupe of guards, Khajiiti auxiliaries. Sevari sneers at that, no doubt some kind of unspoken gesture to Elsweyr's complete welcome of the Dominion leash around their necks. When Aeliel's caravan reaches far enough south, Sevari and Suffian set a trap for the Thalmor scum and his auxiliary guard down the road from them. It works perfectly, the Khajiiti auxiliaries almost all killed or wounded by punji sticks or Suffian's arrows. Aeliel is defenseless after Sevari and Suffian finish off his guard and they take him kicking and screaming to the Penitus Oculatus safehouse some miles away from Leyawiin. It is there that Sevari visits all the boiling aggression built up over this days long affair. By the end of it all, Suffian had barely touched Aeliel. Every horrible, grievous wound that Aeliel succumbs to had been inflicted slowly and methodically by Sevari. Their vengeance is done. When they finally come back to Cristus, the spy tells them that his use for them is no longer needed, offering them employment as spies. Suffian takes the offer, as it comes with a large sum of gold and a new identity. It takes Sevari a few days longer to come around, finally agreeing that it would be much easier tracking down all the men responsible for the conspiracy that took his mother and brothers away from him. Dar'Sevari walks away from himself in Shiburi's footsteps, a torch in hand to light the fires that burn all the webs that the Thalmor and their allies seek to spin. Over the past 20 years, he has been an outlaw in the Confederacy, a price on his head in three countries. Fitting of a man named Shiburi who rode at the head of a bandit gang, a mercenary company, and a party of adventurers. Twenty years under the cover of an outlaw, he has crossed name after name from his list of men to kill. Now, pulling off the biggest trade caravan robbery in the Elsweyr Confederacy with his gang and walking away from the life with his cut of 3,000 septims, throwing it into his hoard of 40,000 and dropping it at the feet of a smuggler and privateer named Captain Greywake, he has made it to Hammerfell. Poor. Spurned. Pressganged... TS//SCI//NOFORN [Hider=PO Psych Eval] PSYHOLOGICAL EVALUATION OF SPECIAL INSPECTOR DAR’SEVARI, OFFICE OF CLANDESTINE AFFAIRS, SPECIAL ACTIVITIES GROUP 4E190 PENITUS OCULATUS BUREAU CHEYDINHAAL PENITUS OCULATUS, INTERNAL AFFAIRS DEPARTMENT, PSYCHOLOGICAL GROUP SUPPORT INSPECTOR DRAELEN VRELL REPORTING [B]Personality:[/B] The prefix 'Dar' in the Khajiiti tongue means a few different things. Nowadays, Khajiit with the prefix 'Dar' are known to be clever and swift, a great many of these Khajiit are thieves- hence why it is sometimes summed up as meaning 'thief' by some, a taker. 'Dar' was once used for something far more striking, a prefix given to not only those who were swift of hand and quick of mind. Dar, in some places in the sands and jungles of Elsweyr, goes not only to takers of goods, but takers of lives. Dar'Sevari may be swift of hand and quick of mind, it is not goods he pilfers. Lives, he snatches away. Since Dar'Sevari was but a boy, he had his devils, given over to black moods and prone to violence. This willingness to employ violence as easily as breathing has been his downfall and his making. He is not devoid of empathy, nor was he ever stricken of his happiness, and contrary to the rumors, he does smile every so often. Beneath it all though, there is a reason that Shiburi is Shiburi and Dar'Sevari is long gone. Shiburi is a man of few words, though he is oftentimes prone to sardonic quips, if only to try to find some humor in life’s hardships, and others may find Shiburi’s disposition quite abrasive at first. An unrepentant killer. Sevari may kill those who are widely seen as enemies, but he holds no illusion of being or trying to become a good man, only that he fulfills his purpose or dies trying. He does his best at skirting the line between friend and stranger, not eager to make himself vulnerable to others nor to endanger others with his friendship. Though, try as he might, the sentient races of Nirn are all social creatures that crave for a pack-bond. Because of this, he may keep his hard exterior, but others may get some kind of idea about why he has stuck by their side for so long. He remains a wanderer for a reason, never staying in one place for long. This does not mean that he has perfected the art of stoic callousness, as he can make emotional connections with others, though it does take time and those wishing for a fast friend are sure to be disappointed. In times of great stress, Shiburi- or Dar'Sevari- prefers to seclude himself from others to try to calm his nerves. This does not always work, but it is what he is accustomed to. Anything from a local duel with the town's best swordsman to the assassinations of his youth, he sits and contemplates. A habit of his is the smoking of tobacco when nervous or stressed or angry. It is perhaps because of his tendency to jump to violence that he maintains an air of aloofness and keeps to himself. He does have control over himself and his violent reflexes, and will not break out into a wanton slew of bloodshed because of a particular heated disagreement. Although, just as the fact remains that it is still the same desert no matter how extreme the dunes may shift, Shiburi is still Dar'Sevari. In some towns, drunken thugs harassing maidens or extorting the populace have seemingly disappeared. In other towns, Thalmor Justiciars asking after a Dar'Sevari have either found nothing at all, or well, had more Justiciars asking after [i]them[/i]. Thalmor Justiciars and Elsweyr Confederacy soldiers guarding military supply and payroll caravans have been robbed blind. Shiburi has no answers.[/hider] TS//SCI//NOFORN HEREBY IS A LIST OF CRIMES THE OUTLAW DAR’SEVARI, AKA SAVIAN KASTAV AKA DAR’JANGO AKA SHIBURI SEV’AHMET IS FOUND GUILTY OF- Thalmor Most Wanted List- Desertion Espionage for a Foreign Power Treason Conspiracy to Murder Blackmail Murder of a Thalmor Official, 23 Counts Wanted Dead or Alive 13,000 Septim Reward Elsweyr Confederacy- Extortion, 17 Counts Antiquities Smuggling Contraband Smuggling Armed Robbery, 32 Counts Murder of a Bhaanu Sasra Agent, 36 Counts Wanted Dead or Alive 12,300 Septim Reward Valenwood- Resisting Arrest, 10 Counts Murder, 25 Counts Poaching Antiquities Smuggling Contraband Smuggling Wanted Dead or Alive 11,900 Septim Reward [/hider]