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Zeroth







Character List



Male: 3
Female: 3

Races of Man
Nord:
Nord

Imperial:
Janus

Breton:
Redguard:
Sait


Races of Mer
Altmer:
Dunmer:
Bosmer:
Nimriell

Orsimer:
Bolorma


Beast Races
Argonian:

Khajiit:
Do'Karth


Player Characters




Do'Karth
Khajiit | 35 | The Lady | 2h Blunt
@Dervish

Nimriell Briarwood
Bosmer | 42 | The Warrior | Athletics
@Greenie

Joy
Nord | 33 | The Serpent | Provisioning/ Speechcraft
@Stormflyx

Sait Sunfall
Redguard | 28 | The Shadow | Speechcraft/ Illusion
@Captain Jenno

Janus Kresimir
Imperial | 42 | The Steed | 1h Blade
@Leidenschaft

Bolorma gra-Shulgin
Orsimer | 33 | The Apprentice | Destruction
@Gcold
Hidden 3 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by Dervish
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Dervish Let's get volatile

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Race: Khajiit, Suthay-raht
Sex: Male
Age: 35
Family Origins: Orcrest, Anequina, Elsweyr
Birthsign: The Lady
Appearance:


Standing at 5’06” (152cm) and weighing 190 pounds (86.1 kg), Do’Karth is impressively statured for a Suthay-raht, the largest of the digitigrade furstocks of Khajiit, walking on the balls of his feet with heels off the ground. Having spent the entirety of his youth training to be an assassin for the Renrijra Krin and much of his adult life honing body and mind at the Star Haven Adeptorium, Do’Karth is in peak physical condition for his age and sporting a martial artist’s build.

Like most Khajiit, Do’Karth has feline features, such as a long tail, ovaloid lips over a squared and powerful jaw, tiger-like stripes and colouration and a cougar-like visage. Lighter white patches of colour adorn his lips, neck, chest and brow, making his brown-black nose stand much more visible, although the contrast is pleasant, and a long muddy-brown mane juts out from his crown down to his shoulders and a tidy braided beard hanging several inches from his chin. Despite his fierce stature, his striking amber-coloured and feline slit eyes portrays a sense of serenity and compassion to those familiar with his gaze, but to others unfamiliar with Khajiit might be given the impression of a cunning and predatory stare. Adding to the battle-hardened appearance, Do’Karth sports a large facial scar traversing the left side of his face to his left ear, along with a number of others across his body. Years of war have taken their toll, but Do’Karth wears the scars with pride and he does not seem to suffer from any lasting injury.

The Khajiit’s casual attire is traditional Anequinan garb, a simple green hip-length robe called a budi that was fastened about his waist by a sash and tucked into navy blue trousers. The budi was asymetric so the opening could traverse from one hip to the other and securing in place with a sash, giving a triangular neckline that exposed the nape of his neck. Various Khajiiti adornments and bangles covered his arms and neck with depictions of the moon phases.

The only other article of clothing of note are simple black foot wraps that are secured up his ankles and leave his clawed toes exposed, as well as his heels.




Equipment:
Do’Karth’s armour is much heavier than many of his contemporaries in Elsweyr, taking inspiration from a variety of cultures and martial practices he has encountered on the battlefield and off, coloured a deep blue-silver on the steel and the fabrics of the ankle-length gambeson a dark jade green. Although ornate in decoration, the armour was practical and allowed for an excellent compromise between protection and mobility, with a breastplate, segmented vambraces, gauntlets that had a plate that protected the back of his hand and fingers, oval pauldrons, faulds, and sabatons that offered protection almost to the knee. His helm is the most decorative item, depicting a stylized visage of a snarling senche, having an Akaviri-style shikoro plating protecting his neck. While his legs lack armoured plating, the gambeson he wears is thick and cut and arrow resistant.

Do’Karth has a variety of armaments, including a steel war club, whose head shares a similar snarling senche visage to his helm and has decorative adornment comprised of Khajiiti moonstone and leather-wrapped grips. Carried on his hip is a shamshir, a long-curved blade with a protective cross-guard and a hooked hilt, which is used in conjunction with an oval shield adorned in the shape of two crescents meeting around a circular boss in the center. Both weapons are traditional Khajiiti arms and while robust and well-cared for aren’t anything atypical for a warrior to carry.


Misc. Possessions:
Do’Karth wears an amulet of Alkosh, a somewhat uncommon thing in an age where Riddle’thar is more commonly venerated.

He has a travel pack with a bed roll and blanket, a firestarting kit, a simple dining kit and cooking pot, a change of clothing, a ration pack of dried meats and fruits, moon sugar, and water skin, a sewing pack, and a blank journal filled with sketches.


Family and Associations:
Renrijra Krin, the criminal syndicate that raised and trained him. He has since disavowed and distanced them.

The Mane's Chosen, the elite guard unit he is currently a member of that serves the Mane's interests in Elsweyr and beyond.

The Aldmeri Dominion, the overall political and military alliance Elsweyr is a part of. Do'Karth has fought under this banner for years now.

Khali-ri, the Mane of Elsweyr.

Gharesh-ri, the Speaker for the Mane, more often than not the man Do'Karth reports to.

Nimriell Briarwood, associate from Senchal.


Favoured Skills:
Highly Proficient: Two-handed blunt
Moderately Proficient: Hand-to-Hand, 1h Sword, Block, Heavy Armour
Somewhat Proficient: Acrobatics


History:



Born in Orcrest in 2E 565 in the midst of the Knahaten Flu that had been ravaging the city for years and an Imperial Legion occupation, Do’Karth was called Turga by his parents, who scraped by with what they could in the besieged city, which seemed to be abandoned by the gods and was rife with crime, death, and despair. Despite the hardships, both of Turga’s parents had done what they could for their child and always searched for ways to give him a life similar to what they had remembered had come before, before the flu and before the Imperials.

However, fate had not been kind to Turga’s parents and both had contracted the Knahaten Flu before they could find a way to escape the city’s Imperial quarantine and in desperation approached the Renrijra Krin, a group of outlaws dedicated to the liberation of Elsweyr and staunch nationalists who had been able to smuggle in supplies and provide care for the citizens of Orcrest in hopes of obtaining recruits. Pleading with the group to take their son, Turga’s parents knew they were condemning their son to a life of violence and crime, but it was better than him dying as an infant, forgotten and alone in the streets of Orcrest. Although he would never remember their faces or kindness, this would be the last time the newly renamed Karth, named after a river in the Reach, would ever see his parents again.

Karth was whisked away from Orcrest and to a desert camp with his new family, being raised on how to survive in the Northern Elsweyr desert and live off the land, as well as being trained to be a warrior and in the arts of subterfuge, walking in Boethra’s shadow. He never received any sort of proper education and the harsh realities of life all but ensured Karth would never have anything resembling a normal childhood, but he was well taken care of despite the violent and idealistic ways of the Renrijra Krin. His brothers and sisters were other orphans and each of them were being molded into warriors and raiders that hunted from the shadows and were taught of the weakness of the Mane and the Elsweyr Confederacy’s rulers, how they failed to protect the people and throw out the Imperials and save their families from the Knahaten Flu, instilling into their young wards a carefully cultivated hatred towards the powers that ruled their homelands and being offered a simple rhetorical question to drive them; “What are you willing to do about it?”



Some were trained to be warriors from the start, mastering the weapons and being taken to participate in raids on Imperial patrols and convoys to steal supplies. Others were being trained in the shadowy arts of thieving and spycraft. But for Karth, it became obvious that he was being groomed for something else in between. When he was 17 to the best of his estimation, he was approached by one of the clan elders with a new purpose; he was to become a sleeper agent, living and working in Torval under strict orders to monitor the Mane, and if the situation should call for it, be the one to strike him down. With a heavy and proud heart, Karth accepted his assignment alongside two others who would join him in this duty. After another year of training, Karth set out towards Pellitine and leaving the deserts for the first time in his life.

Torval was a tropical city, rich in both geography and more mercantile means, as well as having a vibrant culture dominated by an aristocratic society that seemed more severely dominated by castes and wealth. The city’s palace was impressive, being constructed of Valenwood timber, and the outlying regions were dominated by moon sugar plantations. For the next two years, Karth served as a labourer in those plantations until chance intervened and Karth was able to intercept a bandit who had assaulted and robbed a merchant, putting the criminal down with an impressive display of martial arts, fearlessly facing down the man’s dagger and desperation. A guardsman who was in pursuit witnessed this and Karth became an overnight town hero for his deed, and soon after he was offered the opportunity to apply for the city guards, where he excelled at their testing and he was soon accepted into their ranks.

For the next three years, Karth patrolled Torval and grew to knew each of its streets and many of its prominent citizens well, and his heart grew fond of the city. Being a guard gave him a purpose he didn’t knew he craved and he was having difficulty keeping his ultimate mission close to his heart; the Mane he saw periodically, an honourable young woman named Khali-ri who had taken the mantle 5 years ago shortly before Karth arrived in Torval, might have to die at his hand. It was a proposition that felt increasingly impossible to carry out, for a sense of duty and justice that had filled his heart, as well as being immersed in the society surrounding him, made his roots to the desert and the Renrijra Krin seem like a lifetime ago.



One day, when Karth returned from drinks with his comrades in the guard, he found a dagger with a red ribbon laying on his bed. Knowing what it represented, he knew it was time. The 23-year-old Suthay-raht sighed and picked up the symbol of his destiny with distain.

Karth infiltrated the palace, and found the Mane with her advisors and retinue of guards. The dagger weighed heavily in his hands, and many emotions overcame Karth; what mattered more to him, his family that raised him and saved him from certain death, or this new life that was built on a lie that brought him a measure of purpose and happiness? As he stepped into the chamber, holding the weapon, he didn’t know what he was going to do.

His eyes made contact with Khali-ri’s, and Karth was filled with a shame greater than the fear of death from the drawing of blades. Tears streamed from his eyes as he fell to his knees holding the dagger forward as an offering. Those who recognized it gasped audibly and Karth was aware of the calls for his immediate execution. Foosteps crossed the floor, and he felt the dagger gingerly plucked from his grasp and a hand on his cheek. Looking up, the smiling face of Khali-ri was kneeling in front of him.

“You are no assassin; the pain in your eyes is plain to see. You offer your life willingly rather than carry out a deed better served by those who hear Lorkaj’s drums, and you show courage to approach me and risk everything to do the right thing. My advisors call for your death, and perhaps my sister would have seen wisdom in that, but from one warrior to another, let me be the first to extend a hand in friendship and give you the opportunity to walk the path of a true Khajiit. Will you allow me the honour?” the Mane asked.

And Do’Karth accepted.

Raised by Khali-ri’s hand, the newly honoured Do’Karth became a member of the Mane’s Chosen, a group of warriors trained to serve the Mane’s agenda and serve her and Elsweyr with dignity and conviction, and Do’Karth swore an oath to disavow the Renrijra Krin and offer himself body and soul to the Mane. A small group comprised of a few dozen individuals, the Mane’s Chosen was formed under Khali-ri due to the pressing dangers of the Three Banners War that had broken out in 2E582 alongside the Planemeld, Molag Bal’s attempt to assimilate Tamriel into Coldharbour that was thwarted in the early years of the war. Do’Karth was sent to the Star Haven Adeptorium to finish his training after Queen Khamira had finished liberating Anequina from the Imperials that had conquered their homeland and slain her family. Soon after, Do’Karth would be sent into the maelstrom of war, discovering a world larger and more dangerous than he could ever anticipate.




Do'Karth had found himself campaigning across not only Elsweyr, but Valenwood and Auridon to assist allies in the Aldmeri Dominion during cooperative operations between the three races and he has participated in battles across Tamriel against the Ebonheart Pact to the East and the Daggerfall Covenant to the North, finding himself a part of both clashes of armies and simple scouting missions and skirmishes alike. The war, now in its 18th year, has been going on for as long as Do'Karth can remember, and each battle fought reminds him of what's at stake at home and what the Imperial occupation had done to his people; he vowed to never let that happen again.

However, Do'Karth has long learned to respect his enemy and has learned of the different cultures and fighting techniques of his foes, finding an appreciation in the differences they shared and oftentimes wondering if he would have enjoyed traveling to the far corners of Tamriel in times of peace. It was the rise of the warlord Raxus that has confounded both Do'Karth and the Mane, and after the warlord who had seemingly come out of thin air was handily defeating Dominion forces in the field and disappearing like a ghost brought up questions of the nature of this foe. When the Imperial City fell after years of struggle between the three factions, Do'Karth was charged with tracking down officers of the so-called Witch-Emperor and uncovering intelligence.

It wasn't long after the auroras appeared in the sky and Do'Karth found himself estranged from his brothers and sisters in arms, who did nothing to stop the mysteriously armoured figures from apprehending him. Despite his valiant resistance, he was overwhelmed and when he came to again, he was in a dark place where the smell of death and foul magic filled the air...



Personality:

A composed, welcoming, and resourceful individual, Do'Karth has lived a hard but rewarding life that has been shaped by the world and conflicts around him. Although he has known exceptional hardships from the loss of his family in Orcrest to the endless war that has dominated the lives of so many, Do'Karth has navigated these challenges with a composed sense of grace and humility that was earned through equal measures of his experiences and his innate nature.

Do'Karth is a warm soul that is curious about the world and people around him, and having firsthand experience of having his worldview turned upside down from his interactions with the Mane, the Khajiit knows that things are not often as black and white as they appear, and those he clashes swords with more often than not probably have some remarkably similar stories to his own. He cherishes these differences, and although he is a fierce protector of his homeland and devoted to the Mane and the Dominion, he just yearn for the day peace finally breaks and he can try to understand life that isn't shrouded in the hardships and struggles of war.

For this warrior, meditation and humbleness are one of of the same coin as the ferociousness and cunning he employs as a warrior. In his down time, Do'Karth takes in the beauty of the world and the comfort in his companions and often passes the time sketching or enjoying what cities and villages have to offer when he isn't on duty or tending to his gear. He is merciful in battle, sparing those he bests at arms if they are defeated and treating prisoners with compassion, but when fighting, Do'Karth moves with precision and purpose, using his trained body to its fullest extent and knowing when to strike and when to recover, favouring a more defensive style of fighting that takes advantage of an enemy's mistake or exhaustion. Even outside of his armour, Do'Karth is an accomplished martial artist and he trains both in and out of armour, and without weapons as often as he does.
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Hidden 3 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by Greenie
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Greenie

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


Appearance: 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.

Equipment: -Bow and quiver of arrows
-One hand iron sword
-Medium leather armour

Misc. Possessions:
-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

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

Favoured Skills:

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.

History:
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.

Personality: 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.

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