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[i]Nimriell Briarwood better known as Green
Bosmer ~ Female ~ 42 ~ The Warrior 
Reaper’s March/Malabal Tor, Valenwood[/i][/center]

[B]Appearance:[/B] Despite being smaller than most people in a room, Nimriell carries herself with confidence and authority, often with a smile on her lips and a determined spark in her eyes.  A little shorter than the average female Bosmer, she stands at a proud 5 feet, with a toned and wiry body though still soft and curved where it matters. Her skin is naturally tanned, and living the wanderer's lifestyle has accounted for the sprinkle of freckles on her nose and cheeks. Those are often overlooked due the face marking she paints under her eyes and the sides of her face, a habit from when she was younger and wished to look more like her khajiit family. 

Another poignant feature that stands out are the small antlers that protrude from her temples and gracefully curl back into two points, resting just above her head. As with all bosmer, her ears are long and pointed, with a slight curve forward at the tip. Her hair, once a dark brown, now has an auburn tinge, once more due to constant exposure to the sun. Reaching her chin, it is shorter on the left side and pushed to the right. It ranges from messy on most days to combed back and to the side when she actually puts an effort into looking proper.

Up close, her face is rather interesting, losing what at a distance would seem childlike. Dark lashes frame her almond shaped silver eyes, beneath which the hint of lack of sleep has begun to show in light shadows. Like most Bosmer she has high defining cheekbones and a narrow jaw ending in a softly pointed chin. A small button nose set upon full, dark lips complete her features. 

Nimriell enjoys living up to her nickname Green, which is clear for all to see with the green and brown forest tones she prefers to don, whether they be casual wear, her armour, or even clothes that must be worn to an event. Sometimes she does allow herself a dash of added blue here and there, and she has a red scarf that she keeps for colder days, gifted to her a long time ago by her mother. All in all, she prefers to dress for practicality and comfort. Often times her outfits consist of both khajiiti and bosmer mix of clothing, this being more as an homage to where she came from than being easier to purchase or make.  

[B]Equipment:[/B] -Bow and quiver of arrows
-One hand iron sword
-Medium leather armour

[B]Misc. Possessions:[/B]
-Rucksack which contains:
Mortar and pestle with various alchemical ingredients stored in pouches in a pack
-A thin brown blanket
-Dried fruits, nuts, meat and other non perishables
-A couple of changes of clothes
-A small wooden carving given to her by her elder adoptive brother

[B]Family and Associations:[/B]
Ri’Jasha - Adoptive father (deceased)
Ko’Rani - Adoptive mother (deceased)
Do’Harir - Adoptive elder brother

[B]Favoured Skills:[/B]

Highly Proficient:
Athletics - Growing up with a Baandari peddlar family that spent days on end travelling through different landscapes has fortified Nimriell's body.

Moderately Proficient:
Acrobatics - Nimriell was always rather active growing up, and climbing trees while jumping from heights was nothing new to her. There was no denying she was a Bosmer during these times, though sometimes her father would jokingly say she's actually a Dagi-raht
Archery - Nimriell picked up archery first as a hobby, though it quickly evolved into something that was necessary for provisioning. These skills only further improved when she joined the Shields of Senchal and would be sent out as a scout on recon missions, among other tasks.
Stealth - This was something that came naturally to her, especially when she spent time around those who were larger more often than not. This helped her as well in her recon missions or in ambush situations.


Somewhat Proficient:
One Hand Melee - Using a sword wasn't something Nimriell picked up until she joined the Shields of Senchal. While being a ranged fighter was something she preferred, learning and practicing using a one handed weapon was something she put some effort into so that she wasn't completely defenseless if someone ambushed her.
Alchemy - Though still mostly a hobby and not a proficient in the art as she wants to be, Nimriell has learned quite a few properties of alchemical ingredients  and can concoct a few health potions or poisons.

[B]History:[/B]
Nimriell (better known as Green by friends and family) was born in Reaper's March, though she had not stayed there long enough to personally consider that her homeland. Her parents had been travelling away from the arid land with a family of Baandari peddlars, and with the same goal of Malabal Tor in mind the two families became allies in the treacherous journey as well as friends, sharing food, stories and campfires at night. It was unfortunate that a couple of days before crossing the border to what they hoped were greener pastures, the group was preyed upon by highway bandits at night. Attacks like these were a common occurrence, yet for those affected by the unnecessary bloodshed, it was rather tragic. Nimriell lost both her parents, and the Baandari suffered losses as well, the family of five now whittled down to three- Ri’Jasha the Ohmes-raht, his wife Ko’Rani, a Cathay, and their eleven year old son Harir, a Senche-raht who was already taller and heftier than both his parents. Their two youngest, a six year old alfiq and an infant who was barely the size of a kitten, were trampled in the ambush and died instantly.

Naturally Ri’Jasha and Ko’Rani were devastated. They had eventually bested the bandits with the help of Harir, but at what cost? The two khajiit didn’t wish to stay there longer than they had to, but they also refused the bodies of their children and friends for the wildlife to pull apart. When the sun rose, they had dug a shallow grave and constructed a cairn from whatever stones they found nearby. It was then that they realized there was another survivor wriggling under one of the nearly collapsed tents the Bosmer family had been sleeping in. When Ri’Jasha pulled the cloth away, he found the tiny infant still laying on the fur blanket she had been put on earlier the previous night. Somehow, it seemed she had survived. Praising Baan Dar, he picked her up and brought her to his wife. A silent look between the two was enough to tell that they were not going to leave the helpless child behind. With heavy hearts but the small promise of light in the future, the new family of four once more commenced their journey to Malabal Tor, thankfully reaching without any further incidents.

And so Nimriell grew up with her khajiiti family, mimicking their ways and customs as if they were their own. Even as a small child it was clear to her that there was something different about her, and it wasn’t like Ri’Jasha or Ko’Rani kept her origins hidden from her, feeling that would be disrespectful to their friends and travel companions. They always made sure to tell the girl that it did not matter what race she was, she was as much their child as Harir, their Senche-raht son. Unfortunately, this did not sit well with him. He was prone to jealousy when he found his parents doting on the little Bosmer, and when they would be busy with their trading with their clientele, he would find opportunities to use his size and strength to scare her and chase her away from stalls. The end result would normally have her hiding under some bushes or high up in a tree, the acrobatic skills of her race already proving himself with how quick and nimbly she could make her way up there.

The end would usually result in rather harsh scoldings for Harir and then a search for Nimriell, though after the tenth or twentieth time it was rather obvious to her parents where she would be hidden. “Come out, little green one, this one won’t let anyone hurt you.” And so it continued onward, until ‘little green one’ was simply to ‘Lil Green’ or simply ‘Green’. 

The two siblings continued to grow, as did Harir’s resentment for the way Nimriell was treated like a part of the family. As she could no longer be scared into hiding and she was smart enough to stay in view of their parents, he would choose his moments to try and hurt her, using not just his size and strength, but more often than not his words. Now age fifteen, Nimriell was quite adept at ignoring this, but one day his words stung a little too much.

“You will never be part of this family. This one’s siblings are dead!”

Without a word Nimriell left her brother’s company and headed out for the banks near the trading stalls. Silently she mixed dirt and water to make a paste before drawing patterns on her face to mimic those that were on her brother’s. Once she was done, she washed her hands and returned to the stall, confusing both her parents as well as Harir with how different her face looked. Ri’Jasha was quick to figure out that Harir must have prompted this sudden change in her appearance. Before he could say anything, however, Nimriell spoke up. 

“Nimriell knows she is not a Khajiit, but she is still part of this family. This one has lived here, grown up here, and has worked as hard as the rest. But if it’s just this one’s looks that makes her an outsider, then this one will keep painting these marks on her face, as the Ohmes do.” 

Though her actions that day did not quite end the resentment Harir would feel for her, it did give him food for thought, which led him to stop his misbehaviour. Perhaps the distraction of warriors visiting from Elsweyr also helped shift his focus from tormenting his little sister to how he could use his size and strength to be productive. This left Nimriell at peace for the first time in years, though truth be told when he told his family he would be leaving for Elsweyr, she was saddened. She gave him a hug, pressed her forehead against his and told him she’d miss him. After all he had done to her, he was surprised to hear these words, and the seed of regret for his previous actions were sewn into him. Before leaving, he gave her a small wooden carving that he had found as a child and picked up, naming it after Baan Dar.

Life continued as it normally did, though with Nimriell growing older, so were her parents. She found herself helping more than her share with their trading and peddling. It was a nice routine, and since most of what she did was manual work, it was easy to find some free time to pursue new hobbies. A traveling alchemist ignited her interest in learning how to make potions and poisons. Peddling books off merchants, she was able to further her knowledge in the field. At the same time, she also found that she had prowess with a bow and would often head out in her free time to hunt small game for her family’s dinner. It was a good life, steady and calming.

And perhaps a little stagnant, because it wasn’t long before the family decided the stationary life was no longer what they wished- they were Baandari after all, and the call for the vagabond life was calling Ri’Jasha once more. Nimriell was happy to follow along with her parents, enjoying the fact that she would be able to travel and see more than just the small area of Malabal Tor where she had spent most of her life. The family decided to delve further into Valenwood, passing through the forests of Grahtwood, where she could now meet other Bosmer like herself as well as those who followed the Green Pact. While Nimriell herself was a little familiar with the tenets, she considered herself more khajiit than anything else and did not really see the need to follow the Green Pact. 

During her travels, she would continue writing letters to Harir, now known as Do’Harir, and whenever she found a courier to send them, it would be the first thing she would do. With new meetings and experiences and the communication now flowing better than it had when they were young, the two adoptive siblings became close. It became a pleasant habit to reread letters whilst waiting for new ones, even if at times it would take over a month to receive missives. 

As age would have it, Ri’Jasha and Ko’Rani were now quite elderly, and though Nimriell was still young for a Bosmer, her parents were feeling the years crawling up on them once more, and once more the family retreated to Malabal Tor. It wasn’t long after her twenty-seventh birthday that her parents passed away relatively peacefully, her mother first and her father a couple of months later. Do’Harir had returned when he had learned of his mother’s passing away, and he was there to see his father one last time before Ri’Jasha left for the Sands Behind the Stars. The two siblings spent a couple of days together, sharing stories and drinks, until at last Do’Harir decided it was time for him to return to Elsweyr.

With nothing keeping her in Valenwood anymore, Nimriell decided to join her brother and head to Elsweyr as well. The troubles facing the homeland of the Khajiit was no secret, what with the Imperial Usurper Queen and the dragons reemergence. Her brother had found his place in Anequina and was doing well as a warrior in service of new Queen Khamira. However, Nimriell decided to venture further south as news of troubles began to emerge from Pellitine. Reaching Senchal, it wasn’t long before she enlisted with the Shields of Senchal. It was a very different life than the one she was used to, no longer travelling on a whim or for making gold, but actually heading to places where she didn’t expect pay in return. There was a certain gratification to be felt in helping not just herself and her family, but others in need.

It was during this time that Nimriell came to know love and its bittersweet taste for the first time. Remaining stationary allows friendships to bloom, and even more if given the chance. A tall, dark and handsome Khajiit by the name of Renziir was the focus of her affections, having met him in a joint mission to help out some villagers who had been left homeless and without any amnesties after a dragon attack. It had taken more than a few of the Shield of Senchal soldiers to take down the dragon, and by the time they finished, Nimriell found the injured Khajiit nearly dying in a pool of his own blood, gashes and burns to his body. She managed to drag him back to the Shields camp and helped the healer in whatever capacity she could. It took a couple of days but Renziir finally came to, no longer at death's door. Having been told about the strange Bosmer who saved him, he asked to meet Nimriell.

Renziir had seemed quite interested in her tales, and Nimriell found that she could get used to having a little attention on her. It wasn't long after they returned to Senchal that the two began to live together. Afterwards she would realize she had been a fool to rush into such arrangements, but at the time, Nimriell was pleased to have someone she could share the more intimate feelings of herself. The rose-tinged days lasted for a few months, and Nimriell had been content in dismissing her brother's notions that there was something not quite right about her lover, even when he brought up days he would be gone travelling without mentioning even where. 

That is, until one lonely evening when the Bosmer stumbled out of a tavern, only to see a familiar figure in the distance. Her inebriation pushing caution away for curiousity, she snuck after him, following him at a distance- even in such a state her feet were light and she was able to keep herself hidden as she trailed him to the shores. Her piqued curiosity turned into disgust; from what she could hear, he had been consorting with slavers, selling his own people to slavers for gold. She took no action then, but once the meeting dismissed, an arrow flew in his direction, missing him only by a hair's breadth. Renziir immediately drew his swords to attack, though he came to a still when he saw who it was. Something flashed over his face, perhaps it was regret, but Nimriell didn't know or care. The Khajiit let out an upset growl before rushing away, leaving behind the Bosmer who was too heartbroken to follow after.

Time passed, and with it the wounds in Nimriell's heart, though the lesson she had learned caused her to become a little more cautious and perhaps colder. There was the comfort at least that there was some sort of peace now in Elsweyr. The same however couldn’t be said for the rest of the Tamriel. The Three Banners War still raged on; it was hard to remember a time when the three factions hadn’t been at war. Nimriell often thought of heading North to Cyrodiil to help the Dominion, but save for a couple of missions, her life was now in Elsweyr; it felt more like home to her than the forests of Valenwood. Her interest however was piqued when someone by the name of Raxus had seemingly taken over the throne. It wouldn’t be long after that the fighting would come to a standstill, and peace would finally cleanse the land of all the blood that had stained Tamriel. 

Something did not sit well with Nimriell, however. Perhaps it was how everyone, including her own brother, seemed to be enthralled by the new emperor? Or perhaps it was the auroras in the sky? Something smelled like rotmeth, and Nimriell wanted to see for herself what was going on. The concerns she had aired with her brother as well as other acquaintances had them looking at her narrow eyed and suspiciously. Unwilling to raise anyone else’s ire with her uneasiness about the new Emperor, she left without a word and her few belongings. Unfortunately for her, her words weren’t forgotten, and it wasn’t long before she found herself being pursued by mysterious warriors dressed in strange mixtures of armour. 

That was the last thing she remembered before waking up to surrounding darkness and blood chilling screams.

[B]Personality:[/B] Nimriell at first glance is a friendly, hard working and kind individual. Having grown up in an environment where new encounters were on a daily basis, she had to make sure she was approachable and open as often business would rely on this. Dealing with both good and rotten patrons has taught her the value of patience and forbearance, and it takes a lot to rile her up. Even then, she will try to keep control over her emotions and attempt to reason with calm and cool words. Nimriell had never been one to shy away from people who mistreated others, however, and if necessary will use force to stop those who in her opinion are doing wrong. Those she loves and cares for are not exempted from this treatment.

Despite being surrounded by people more often than not, Nimriell is something of an introvert when it comes to her spare time where she need not be in an actively interactive mode. Given the chance, she would be happy to slip away and perhaps read a book, or simply take a nap up in a tree where no one can find her. If that isn't possible and she must interact, she prefers to let others talk while she listens to them, unless it's a topic she knows a lot about or perhaps simply to break awkward silences. She will give them the floor to speak about whatever is on their mind, unless asked for her opinion, giving her complete attention to whoever may be conversing with her. She is used to paying close attention to whatever is being talked about, and if someone is dealing with a problem, she will try to find viable solutions or at least try to help them see a bright side. 

Once an optimist, Nimriell would now probably call herself a realist. Life doesn't always go the way a person wants it to. Her rose tinted relationship with Renziir caused her to reevaluate the way she looked at life. Though she hasn't turned into a cynic or a pessimist, a lot of what she now deems as naive positivity has left her. While she tries to keep an open mind when meeting new people, it is hard not to be skeptical of whether they truly are who they claim to be, and what are their true intentions. Having been burnt once was enough for her to take a step back and make sure that sort of thing will not happen again.

She retains hope, however. In a world continuously meddled with new problem upon problems, it seems too bleak not to believe that better things are bound to come with patience and perseverance. Nimriell wants to be one of those people who pull those better things forward for everyone else.