[hider=Dances-In-Milk][INDENT][INDENT][CENTER][h1][b][i]"Xaexriuukk, Dances-In-Milk"[/i][/b][/h1][sub][i]"My potions are fit for a beast, let alone a man."[/i][/sub][/CENTER] [table][row][/row][row][cell][center][sub][b]══════ C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T ══════[/b][/sub] [sup]_______________________________________________[/sup][abbr=Credit to u/Fury_On ; Posted to r/Morrowind January, 2019][img]https://i.redd.it/hvn1g2989g821.jpg[/img][/abbr] [sup]_______________________________________________[/sup] [suP][b]═══════ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y ══════[/b][/suP] [sub]"Xaexriuukk, Dances-In-Milk" [sup]_______________________________________________[/sup] 73 [b]|[/b] ♂ [b]|[/b] Argonian [sup]_______________________________________________[/sup] Tribal Alchemist, Former Wandering Healer, Scholar[/sub][/center] [indent][sub][b]▼ P H Y S I C A L T R A I T S[/b][/SUB] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► [b]Build[/b] - Old and Hunched, Years of Brewing ► [b]Skin Color[/b] - Pale Teal ► [b]Jewelry Material[/b] - Gold ► [b]Eye Color[/b] - Amber ► [b]Other[/b] - Legs are burned and bestial.[/SUP] [SUB][b]▼ D O S S I E R[/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► [b]Birthplace[/b] - Hatched in Murkmire, to the Kota-Vimleel tribe. ► [b]Birthsign[/b] - The Atronach ► [b]Biggest Regret[/b] - [abbr=Xaexriuukk went to aid a sickly Miredancer. When he was hunched over his arrangement she tried to drain him of his blood. After this, he became suspicious, unwilling to help others near as much as he used to. Had he never gone to help in the first place, he might still be the joyous healer he was well on the way to becoming.]Lending aid to a predator in disguise.[/abbr] ► [b]Xaexriuukk's Goal[/b] - Compile an accurate bestiary on all vampiric strains, drawn from firsthand account and rooted firmly in fact.[/SUP][/indent] [indent][sub][b]▼ F A V O R E D A T T R I B U T E S[/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► [abbr=Alchemy is not an art to be taken lightly.][b]Intelligence[/b][/abbr] ► [abbr=Despite being prone to depressive despair, Xaexriuukk is not prone to giving up.][b]Willpower[/b][/abbr][/sup] [SUB][b]▼ S K I L L S[/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► [b]Alchemy[/b] - [abbr=Having been raised by the Black-Tongues tribe, Dances-In-Milk has been working at Alchemy his entire life.]Expert[/abbr] ► [b]Enchanting[/b] - [abbr=Not one to do much combat himself, Dances-In-Milk picked up Enchanting as a way to be a useful tribesman, and found that his own natural resistance to magic meant that he was a good test dummy.]Adept[/abbr] ► [b]Security[/b] - [abbr=When one produces such potent products, one learns to lock them up well. And, sometimes, one misplaces their keys.]Adept[/abbr] ► [b]Smithing[/b] - [abbr=Though his bones are old, Xaexriuukk remembers the motions of making replacement alchemical supplies.]Adept[/abbr] ► [b]Stealth[/b] - [abbr=Sometimes Dances-In-Milk found himself having to gather ingredients on his own. One learns to sneak quite well in the Marsh.]Adept[/abbr] ► [b]Archery[/b] - [abbr=Surprisingly, select fruits which are too high to climb for are just as potent with an arrow in them.]Novice[/abbr][/SUP] [SUB][b]▼ S P E L L S[/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► None[/sup] [SUB][b]▼ E Q U I P M E N T[/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► [b]Weapons[/b] - One shortbow, five arrows ► [b]Armor[/b] - Faded blue clothes. ► [b]Containers[/b] - Two satchel bags, one for ingredients and one for alchemy equipment. ► [b]Food, Drink, Potions[/b] - A variety of meats (diced for easy snacking), a jug of milk, two potions of healing, one potion of invisibility, simple poison. ► [b]Ingredients[/b] - Columbine Root Pulp, Gingko Leaf, Ginseng, Nightshade. ► [b]Miscellaneous[/b] - Alembic, [abbr=Perhaps the most difficult part of the lab to set up. It must be positioned according to the current moon phase.]Calcinator[/abbr], Mortar and Pestle, [abbr=This Retort was shattered at some point, presumably when Xaexriuukk used it as a makeshift fireball.]Retort[/abbr][/sup][/indent][hr] [/cell][cell][center][b][sub]══════ A P P E A R A N C E ══════[/sub][/b][/center] Were Xaexriuukk a younger Argonian, with straight legs, he would stand at an impressive seven feet. But he is not a young Argonian, and his legs are not straight. His legs are bestial, and he is not meant to wear boots. Most pants are uncomfortable for him, unless tailored properly. Currently, he wears a loincloth, though it looks a bit more impressive than one would expect. The scales are ruined and charred, and his back hunches over as if he is always leaning over an alchemist's table. His claws are unkempt and look half-dead, and the way he quickly steps is reminiscent of hot coals walking over hot coals. When he is on the move, his steps are almost zig-zag, as if he is trying to keep himself balanced with his two satchel bags acting as a strange counter-weight. His satchel bags are old, having been patched multiple times, and constructed from dreugh hide leather, and his clothes are an oddly regal blue fabric with red sleeves, which after countless years of alchemical wear-and-tear, are still a stunningly beautiful (albeit faded) shade. They are riddled with potion stains, and smell faintly of salts. While his face generally holds a distasteful look, his pale teal skin is complemented by golden jewelry, undoubtedly made deep in Black Marsh. His crest is worn and thin, and his lower jaw is oddly aggressive. The jewelry which adorns his crest is, upon close inspection, dutifully engraved with delicate depictions of flowers of all sorts. His face is short, and his snout ridges look durable. His lower jaw is streaked with a once-bright-now-dull midnight blue, and if one looks close, past the aged dullifying of colors, it is plain that his neck was once speckled with the same color, now closer to a grey. [center][b][sub]═══════ P E R S O N A L I T Y ══════[/sub][/b][/center] Xaexriuukk is an old Saxhleel, but to say that he’s learned from experience is almost a mistake. The Saxhleel is stubborn, jaded, and very self-centered, and just about his only positive qualities are that he is grumpily helpful, and that he is not arrogant. In an odd contrast, he prefers most people call him by his Cyrodillic name, Dances-In-Milk. Xaexriuukk has learned many things in life, but what he learns does not extend to social graces. His mind is more honed for learning and creation than it is for small talk and ethics. He has burned many bridges in the past thanks to his bluntness and unwillingness to entertain what he perceives as wasteful stupidity, and he plans to keep burning bridges out of spite. Conversation wise, Xaexriuukk is prone to using as few words as possible, focused on brevity and efficient communication of [i]important[/i] ideas. While not exactly a traditionalist, Xaexriuukk is fiercely stuck in his ways, and despite decades of living away from Argonia, he still behaves in an oddly tribal manner. He does not tolerate intrusions on his territory, he leaves empty alchemical flasks in places as warning, and he is an ardent Sithis worshipper. This is to say nothing of his reflexive violence, and his general attitude of “they got what was coming for them”. Having spent most of his life in Black Marsh, Xaexriuukk has witnessed his fair share of egg-brethren die at the hands of one another, and when he left the Marshes he witnessed Men and Mer alike purchase poisons to kill one another. If they are egg-brethren, they will be reborn amidst the roots. If they are not, then they got what was coming for them. He has a particular disdain for Dunmer, for reasons obvious to anyone who knows even an inkling of his people's history.[/cell][/row][/table][/INDENT][/INDENT] Xaexriuukk is very self-centered, but that doesn’t mean he’s selfish. Rather, he’s preoccupied with his own goals and thoughts. When he is part of a team, he values his teammates almost like tools, though tools which are less likable than his own. But he knows he couldn’t fight most battles by himself, and so he happily tolerates supplying the side he’s on with means to survive. The Saxhleel alchemist is also rather modest. Humble would be a stretch, but Xaexriuukk tends to think that most people know the basics. This means that he's not arrogant about his work, but explains it as he would to equals - which often leads to him growing irritated when he [i]does[/i] have to explain basic concepts, though less for identifying it as stupidity, and more for it costing a chunk of time (but, it's not a waste). While his disposition tends to be dour and sour, Xaexriuukk is oddly helpful. He can give you the recipe, the location of the ingredients, and the current moon phase, but he won't brew you a potion that he doesn't already have prepared. Of course, his disposition when helping tends to be hurried, irritable, and carried with the assumption that you know what you're doing. In short: Xaexriuukk will help you help yourself, just don't expect him to be happy about it. In addition to his generally cold disposition, Xaexriuukk prefers to keep people at a length, and he hates when people mispronounce his name. As a result of both things, he prefers people to call him by his Cyrodillic name, Dances-In-Milk. It is not a name he likes, which helps him to keep people at spear’s length, and it is easier to pronounce for Men and Mer than Xaexriuukk. On the rare occasion he grows to like someone, he tries to teach them how to manage a Saxhleel name. Of note about his demeanor that one would not expect at first, Xaexriuukk is rather fearless. He is bold, but cautious. He doesn't charge headlong into dangerous situations, he takes time to consult his research and plan. He is quick to adapt and change his plans when they no longer suit his needs, and he is able to remain levelheaded in most situations. Paradoxically, he is plagued by a lingering paranoia, driving him to be suspicious of strangers and new areas. At the root of it all is a sense of world-weariness that has sat with Xaexriuukk his entire life. When he decided to leave Argonia, this world-weariness became an intense irritability that bleeds out to nearly every aspect of who Xaexriuukk is. [center][b][sub]═══════ B A C K G R O U N D ══════[/sub][/b][/center] [center][b]It licked the sap and became Xaexriuukk, and the others celebrated with names of their own.[/b][/center] Xaexriuukk's egg-brothers reeked of blood, and he brewed to the best of his abilities. He had heard their mouths drip with accounts of an engagement with Tum-Taleel, but he was taught to mistrust the words of the dying and dead. He poured a potion of healing down one of their throats, one too weak to drink on his own, and watched as the potion sent him into a quiet slumber lasting three days. And then six. And then forever. When his hands were washed, his teacher told him that sometimes these things happen. Xaexriuukk swore that these things would never happen again. Xaexriuukk was young, but older still, when these things happened again. More Tum-Taleel, and less villages. They would never stop happening, but each time he swore that it never would again. When it happened for the sixth time, he considered learning healing magic. When even a basic incantation left him feeling drained, he knew this was not the path. He turned again to alchemy, and with his resolve firmly stead he never strayed again. There is a single act of help that changed the way Xaexriuukk viewed the world, remembered vividly all these years later. It was years after Xaexriuukk had began wandering when he went to aid, and hopefully cure of her disease, a sickly Miredancer. Apparently her sickness was contagious, but he was certain he could develop a cure if only he saw the symptoms up close. He examined her and began his brew, and when he was hunched over his arrangement - still aligning the calcinator to the proper positioning, with a basic brew bubbling in the retort already - she assaulted him. In the ensuing struggle she nearly bit him, but with some quick thinking on his part he managed to turn the boiling retort into a primitive fireball, and it exploded twice. It was only by the grace of The Atronach did he survive, and even then, grace only went halfway. The first blast left him unharmed, the second burned quite a bit of his body. The locals helped him into a bath, one which he demanded have any milk available added to it. He flailed as the milk helped to ease some of the more potent alchemical burns, some of the natural magical qualities helping to neutralize some of the worse effects of the imported Imp Gall he had used. While he still retained usage of his legs, they were marred with lingering burns that he never sought help for, and Dances-In-Milk became suspicious, unwilling to help others near as much as he used to. Had he never gone to help in the first place, he might still be the joyous healer he was well on the way to becoming. By the time Xaexriuukk departed from Argonia, all traces of who he was had faded into his current demeanor, and he mourned as Dances-In-Milk. Bitterness overtook him and it became his most potent ingredient in his poisons. Brews meant for sickness and death earned him more coin than the ones meant for healing, and each coin was put toward paper he would need to begin his work proper. Aiming to rewrite the Tamrielic understanding of vampirism from the ground up, condeming books such as [i]Immortal Blood[/i] as too vague to have been helpful, Dances-In-Milk knew that solid, undeniable truth must be dragged into the light, kicking and screaming as it did. Dances-In-Milk worked as a researcher for a time, isolating himself in a tower as he studied alchemy once again. This time he focused less on traditional poisons of the Black-Tongues, and more on mastery of his skill. He learned what every ingredient he could get his claws on did, and how to best turn it into a weapon or a shield. He learned how to properly coat blades, how to coat arrows. He learned how to best grind his ingredients, and he learned the best places to get water which wouldn't muck anything up. He became an expert, and was later commissioned by sellswords in Daggerfall to brew them all manner of things. When a trusted source tipped him off to vampiric lore to be learned in Skingrad, Dances-In-Milk booked the first boat to Anvil he found, finally ready to put pen to paper and drag vampires out into the daylight kicking and screaming. [/hider]