Basic Information
Birthplace: Orcrest, Anequina
Appearance:
Art by @MacabreFox!Do’Karth was a man of a strong but lithe frame, renown for his skill with a quarterstaff and for his deep rooted oath against killing, and his feline features gave him a rounded head with erect triangular ears and a powerful squared jaw under ovaloid whiskered lips and a broad dark nose of rough skin. His fur was striped over a rusty colouring, lightening under his jaw trailing down his abdomen and under his arms. His eyes belaid a sense of serenity and compassion, despite the predatory slits native to his feline heritage that would give the impression of cunning viciousness to those unacquainted with his amber-orange corneas. He lacked a mane like many other Khajiit, and his head was covered with a well-worn water-blue bandana, and upon his chin was perched a dark and intricately braided beard that hung several inches below his chin. He walked digitigrade, that is on the balls of his feet like most cats, and his feet were bare, except for the wraps that were tight about them, leaving his toes and heel exposed. He also carried across him a number of scars; one predominantly up the left side of his face from his left cheek to ear, where the tip had been clipped, along with a number of others that resided beneath his clothing. He has been a man who had experienced quite his share of injury and battle.
The Khajiit’s attire was traditional Anequinan garb, a simple grey thigh-length robe called a budi that was fastened about his waist by a sash that matched his bandana and a utility belt that carried much of his belongings in boiled leather pouches. The robe was fashioned so it criss-crossed from one hip to the other on both sides, over his shoulders, and securing on opposite ends from where they began, giving triangular depressions on his chest and at the nape of his neck, and providing tidy folds when they crossed over one another. His only other article of clothing of note were a pair of black cotton trousers that ended loosely around his ankles and a thick grey traveling cloak that was lined with white fox fur that he had purchased and amended by a tailor when he first arrived in Skyrim in Riften.
Personality: Good-natured, introspective, and resourceful, Do'Karth seems to have a love of life that can be infectious, proving to be an optimistic and oftentimes talkitive personality that belies a surprising amount of insight and wisdom for someone of his age and race. Loving to tell and hear of good stories, Do'Karth strives to make his life as colourful and lively as possible, indulging in all manners of pleasures, especially cuisine, that comes his way. He sometimes, intentionally or not, uses his homeland's culture to bumble his way into or out of situations, doing things like taking needed or wanted things no one would likely miss, walking through unlocked doors without knocking, taking unattended food, and so on.
Brushing off the discrimination and racism he often experiences outside of Anequina, Do'Karth does his best to appear aloof or disinterested, although inside he is preparing for the worst. Inversely, he is very protective and concerned for those he grows fond of; although a part of him knows that he may be on the road again at a moment's notice, he knows that good companions and friendships are invaluable and will stay by those he cares for through impossible situations. It is for this reason that Do'Karth is somewhat concerned about growing too attached to strangers; his very nature keeps him from staying in one place for too long, and he feels a pressing need to be in a perpetual state of wandering, lest he lose himself in one place and forget himself.
In private, he does not enjoy too much time to reflect, instead losing himself in sketching the world around him with charcoal and other drawing instruments that he can obtain or quiet prayer to S’rendarr and Mara, of which he wears two small amulets around his neck. Fond of food and drink, and no stranger to moon sugar, Do’Karth has an insatiable curiosity and delight of the culinary tastes of other cultures and the customs of these people, often partaking in rituals he is permitted to.
Something of an egalitarian, Do’Karth sees all people as one, and because of that, he refuses to kill another man even if he must fight him to submission, claiming that many who make poor choices in life deserve a chance at redemption. This, along with his other eccentric quirks, have often put him at odds with his traveling companions and has sometimes even lead to his departure from their company.
However, no one could accuse him of being a coward or a poor fighter, especially after witnessing Do’Karth's willingness to step in and take on tasks that others would balk at. He feels the need to prove himself in the eyes of his companions, and it is his responsibility to do what must be done if he is able.
Background:For Do’Karth, who was born Dar’Turga to a pair of parents who changed aliases so often he never knew what their names truly were. Such was the life of the members of the Renrijra Krin, a leaderless and loosely organized organization of just about every kind of scum imaginable across Elsweyr; if one were to fall on the wrong side of the law or ethics that khajiit hold sacrosanct, you could reasonably expect them to be finding their way into the ranks of Renrijra Krin. Not afforded a proper education, Dar’Turga instead learned the arts of deception and combat, unwittingly being groomed for the day he would prove his worth to the Orcrest clan he was born into.
Into his teens, Dar’Turga would discover that his parents, who were distant at best, were arrested trying to cross the Cyrodiil border to get to Leyawiin to stoke the fires of an uprising there. When pressed for how he felt about their captivity, Dar’Turga was surprised to find he was emotionally indifferent in their fate. He did not even know if he had siblings, and other members of the clan had taken a far more active role in his upbringing. He would later on refer to his parents as “strangers with the same blood”, as if that explained everything, and for many, it often did.
Being trained in the art of combat and hiding in plain sight, it became clear to Dar’Turga that he was being groomed for something outside of the thieving, clandestine murders, and other such specialties of the Renrijra Krin. When he was 17 (to the best of his knowledge, he was never told his birth date other than he was born in Autumn at some time), he was approached by his clan leader along with two other young adults; he was to become a sleeper agent, infiltrating the Mane’s palace and personal guard until he was given the order to strike. Accepting this heavy responsibility with a heavy but proud heart, Dar’Turga spent the next year training with his brothers for the awesome responsibility to come before making the long journey from the familiar deserts surrounding Orcrest and to the much more tropical climate of Torval.
Before long, Dar’Turga, now using the moniker of Do’Karth, and the other two agents had found their way into the city guard. The impressive palace, made of Valenwood timber, and the sprawling moon sugarcane plantations became familiar sights to Do’Karth as he became a regular sight near the palace, doing his patrols. For the next two years, he had become very much a fabric of the city, familiar with the people and acquainting himself with members of the populace. Until the order to act came, Do’Karth had to act the part of a citizen, which was much more credible of one had friends.
One such acquaintance turned friend was a scribe named S’Razza, an Ohmes of fair complexion and a lattice of dark tattoos across his face to accent his more feline features. The two had met when a particularly gusty day tore pages of script from S’Razza’s hands and Do’Karth rushed to his aid, helping collect the wayward pieces of parchment. Finding one another to have amicable personalities, they arranged to meet once a week for lunch, and S’Razza became an invaluable source of information of the inner workings of the palace and court gossip. Through his new friend, Do’Karth had even been given leave to attend one of the days of the Mane’s summons, an awe-inspiring event that the to-be assassin was ill prepared for, as the pomp and pageantry of court and the almost divine bearing of the Mane’s appearance were awe inspiring. Would he be able to kill this man, if he could be killed at all? The question troubled Do’Karth for some time, and without anyone to speak to of the matter, as his fellow sleeper agents had kept separate lives as to not attract suspicion, Do’Karth was left to stew in his doubts for many months.
One day, the word came via a dagger left beside his bedroll with a ribbon tied to the grip. It was time.
The assassination attempt took several days of planning, and when the night came to act, Do’Karth said his prayers to Khenarthi for swiftness and to grant the Mane a peaceful transition from his body to the Sands Beyond the Stars. Slipping the dagger into his belt, and grabbing a quiver of djerids (a type of throwing spears) and a saber, Do’Karth slipped into the night and into the palace’s sugarcane fields, waiting and observing for the time the Mane would no longer be holding audience. When his palanquin was labourlessly being transported to his quarters would be the time to strike. The only hard part would be to avoid the Warrior Guard, a caste of bodyguards for whom obtaining membership still remained elusive to Do’Karth.
Everything had gone so smoothly up until it was time to act. Having evaded the guards and members of the court by scaling the roof and following the Mane via series of windows, Do’Karth sensed his opportunity when he heard the now familiar voice of S’Razza calling to the Mane, begging for a moment of his time. The palanquin was set down by the massive Senche-raht that carried it and the Mane disembarked with the assistance of a guard to speak with S’Razza. Do’Karth, heart racing, leapt down from the rafters with a roll and with djerid in hand, hurled it at the Mane, the assassin willing his aim to be true.
To his horror, it was S’Razza who took the spear, seeing the assassin from the shadows and the movement of the guards, moved to put himself between the Mane and harm’s way. The djerid pierced his chest, ending his life after a brief struggle. The moment had stunned Do’Karth; everything had happened so fast, and despite all of his training, this was the first time he killed a man. He had not expected it to be his friend.
His hesitation cost him time to escape, however, and the guards were soon upon him. Between blows and cuts, the last thing Do’Karth remembered was a sword being driven into his gut and the world went black.
Awakening against all odds and expectation among the dead in a communal grave outside of the city, Do’Karth’s agony nearly drove him to madness as he screamed with the weight of his failure and unfathomable pain. A clear voice broke through his scattered and pained consciousness, ordering him to press on, to live. Pushing his body to its limits, he escaped the pit and slowly regaining control over his thoughts, put what limited alchemical and medical knowledge he had learned to use, saving own life and fighting off life-threatening infections with poultices and hastily mixed potions made of local ingredients, as well as bandaging himself with whatever could double as a bandage in a pinch. Having dragged himself deeper into the woods and away from the roads, Do’Karth would frequently pass out and regain consciousness enough to move a bit further before finding shelter under the raised roots of one of the jungle’s towering trees. Days went by, and slowly but surely, Do’Karth began to recover and regain control of his thoughts. Unable to shake the events that had led to his near-death and current agony, and the fact it was his actions that had murdered a friend, Do’Karth felt a deep shame unlike anything he had ever experienced. He decided that there would be no more killing, but he would fight every day to survive if he had to. He had to live long enough to find peace, if not redemption. Having healed enough to travel, Do’Karth headed back to the roads to await a travelling merchant, where he would exchange his services for a new set of clothes and to share the road for a time. Five years later, Do’Karth still hasn’t found what he’s looking for.
ORIGINAL CONTENTWanderer, philanthropist, beggar, courageous, strange.
A number of things have been used to describe Do’Karth, a khajiit nomad whose travels have taken him across Tamriel and with numerous stories to accompany him. Usually well mannered, but sometimes forgetting cultural differences, he has remained something of an enigma to those who had not immediately dismissed him as a “filthy cat”.
The best anyone has readily gotten out of Do’Karth is that he hails from Elsweyr, and he has been traveling years, having grown bored of the tastes and scents of the deserts and jungles of his homelands on a personal quest to experience all Tamriel has to offer. Always traveling light and rarely taking more than what he needs (unless he really wants it), the khajiit has proven to be a colourful sight on often dreary roads and in the company of numerous caravans and travelers, often exchanging his services in exchange for food and supplies. The stories surrounding him paint him in an interesting light; a man who fights readily, but refuses to kill, a talented artist who is unable to read or write, a man who is unable to stay in one place for long but had on a few occasions chosen to simply build a raft and float on a lake for weeks at a time. Those who encounter him sometimes have wildly differing stories of who it was they had met, but one thing was always constant; a pleasant disposition with a willingness to help.
Do’Karth, from all accounts, is a nimble-fingered medical practitioner whose knowledge of anatomy and first aid had saved numerous lives on the road, and he had also been quite capable with brewing a potion in haste. While some of the people he saved claimed he spiked said potions with moon sugar, Do’Karth always denied the allegations/ praise, saying “Had Do’Karth used moon sugar to cure their ailments, it would mean less for him, no?”
If anyone had noticed his use of moon sugar, it would be the most observant and those who Do’Karth lets his relaxed-seeming but vigilant guard down around. Using it to sweeten rations and to prepare for spiritual rituals, the moon sugar is a vital and guarded resource that the khajiit knows is hard to come by, as well as the stigma around it by non-khajiit. For him, it’s a way to help commune with his gods, for others, it’s a sign of a well-hidden addiction. Confrontations with those who discovered the moon sugar use have not always gone smoothly, which have made it fortunate the goodwill Do’Karth had earned through his services and personality have carried him far. Failing that, the khajiit is a nimble and skilled fighter with a quarter staff, fearing neither beast nor knight even though he carries no blade and wears no armour.
Do’Karth, from all accounts, has not kept any group of companions long enough to form a coherent enough image of his history and exploits, which are numerous and colourful. From claiming to have briefly served as a juggler for the Count of Skingrad, an esteemed Yokudan Charger racer, and only survived becoming a bosmer’s next meal by besting him in an acrobatic race, it’s impossible to tell where truth and fiction reign, if any of what Do’Karth claims is true. What is known is he has spent a considerable amount of time in Cyrodiil, from all accounts enjoying the temperate countryside and finding refuge among the smaller hamlets that dotted the province, and he has a reasonable fear of ever stepping foot into Black Marsh. Those he encounter claim he seems too preoccupied with the now and where he’s going to worry about where he came from, and he’s surprisingly quiet about his past. While he often deflects such inquiries with humour or another tall tale, those who are observant may notice a very sober and serious look in the normally affable khajiit’s eyes. Clearly, there’s more to the khajiit than a personal philosophy of enjoying life in the moment.
Currently traveling North into Skyrim with a small group of merchants, Do’Karth is making his way to Windhelm, curious about the North’s own rebellion that reflects that of his homeland, and to experience true cold and snow. Having been aimless for so long, Do’Karth seems to be moving with a renewed purpose, and a chance encounter with a mercenary company staging out of the city might be exactly what the khajiit needs to find purpose.
That is, until the next big tale comes along and steals his heart away on a whim. But his newfound companions need not know of that which has not yet come to pass, no?
Capabilities
Skills:
Expert: Two-handed blunt
Adept: Hand-to-Hand, Medicine (non-magical)
Apprentice: Acrobatics, Unarmoured, Ta'agra (official in Elsweyr)
Novice: Alchemy, Tailoring, Marksman
Weaknesses: Code against killing, persistent pain in right leg from an injury that never healed properly, deep regret over past actions, a lingering distrust of commitment to a cause
Spells: N/A
Combat Style: Dar’Karth has a personal code against killing, as has spent several years developing a combat style based around a large-headed cane and staff that have become his go-to weapons of choice for defending himself and others. Keeping a distance and using surprising agility and acrobatic ability for someone with a seemingly bad leg, the khajiit aims to subdue his opponents with sweeps, jabs, disarmament and injuring limbs. He is proficient at knowing where pressure points are, and it’s not unheard of for Dar’Karth to render a foe unconscious with a well-placed blow.
Relations and Affiliations:
Jorwen: Close friend and confidant, swore to protect Solveig
Solveig: Friend, sworn to protect to Jorwen
Sevine: Lover, close confidant
Leif: Romantic rival for Sevine
Opinions of Group Members:
LAST UPDATE: DAWNSTAR WHALING FESTIVAL
Jorwen:
Many seem afraid of Jorwen and his temper, but Do’Karth has only seen a kind man who wishes to do right by his daughter. He was the first to accept this one as a companion, and this one wishes to do right by him. He is a leader, others look up to him, and it is easy to see why. Jorwen has become this one's closest friend and an irreplacable companion upon these cold sands. He has welcomed Do'Karth as readily as family, taking him into his home, sharing meals and drink, and listening to Do'Karth's council. Jorwen has suffered and feels guilt over the man he once was; perhaps he cannot distinguish between that Jorwen and the one who greeted Do'Karth so warmly, but this one hopes he can help him find the peace he seeks. Do'Karth will stand by Jorwen, regardless of what we face. Him and his family are the closest to family Do'Karth has, and it is a cause worth fighting for in this war. This one cares not for coin or glory, it is this man and his kin that Do'Karth would die to keep safe.
Solveig:
Do’Karth has not had the pleasure to speak with Solveig more than once, after her encounter with the Frost Demons left her incapacitated. He has done what he could to keep her comfortable and mend her wounds, but this one feels she is more like Jorwen than either of them realize. She is strong, both in spirit and body, and Do’Karth will do everything in his power to keep her safe and on a good path. This one wishes to get to know Solveig more and perhaps in time call her a friend as she learns to trust this one. It is amusing how the most deadly of circumstances can bring people close together, no?
Sadri:
Poor Sadri, maimed in battle and he has walked Nirn four fold as many years as Do'Karth. He is brave, perhaps even foolishly so, but this one sees how he regards Solveig... it is touching, although he fears the dunmer might find disappointment in that pursuit. Solveig is a haunted woman who is determined... she may be unaware or unconcerned of Sadri's affections. Tragic, yes? Perhaps Do'Karth should speak with her. Life need not be so grim, even if Sadri is older than her father...
It sounds stranger when this one speaks it aloud. Ah, well. Strange times, strange events. Who would have thought a human and a khajiit would have fallen for each other, or a Breton and Imperial would try to blow themselves up to stop an army of Kamal?
Sevine:
Do'Karth has never before felt more accepted for who he is than with Sevine; she was brought to him out of necessity, and while this one healed her leg... she managed to reach into this one's soul. Do'Karth had never expected to come so willingly to speak of who he was, let alone be accepted for it. This one feels she understands Do'Karth, and he can be himself, no act, no misdirection, just him. She means more to him than words could ever express. This one had never expected a Nord to touch him in such a way, let alone anyone at all. Do'Karth's heart swims for Sevine, for she feels the same, and we have come into each other's embrace. Sevine brings Do'Karth peace and affection, he never expected someone like her to take him as her own. She is Do'Karth's warm sands.
Leif:
Do'Karth cannot reconcile the fact that Leif and himself have fallen for Sevine, and he knows Leif's resentment to be venomous. This one feels compassion for the man, whom is clearly devastated that Sevine's heart took her away from him, but he will not apologize for what has come to pass. The man's reputation as one who beds any willing woman he can did him no favours, so perhaps this will temper his ways. Perhaps not, but this one suspects Leif may wish to duel Do'Karth for Sevine's affection.
It brings this one no pleasure to know that Leif's physical suffering would match his emotional well-being that day.
Keegan:
It is uncommon for Do’Karth to see an altmer who is not dressed in Justicar robes or Thalmor armour, but here is the most run-down and bed ragged looking altmer this one has ever laid eyes upon. He strikes this one as a mer who wishes he were anything but and to discard his heritage. Do’Karth could not blame him if that were the case; altmer tend to be quite insufferably proper and smug. This one had once been accosted by an altmer beggar who had immediately insulted Do’Karth’s caste. Tamriel truly is a land of wonders.
Sagex:
Do’Karth only has had a brief acquaintance with Sagex, but the Imperial seems to be a likable fellow, keeping company with all sorts in the company, and he proved himself impossibly brave by exploding himself and a good chunk of the Kamal warship. Vaba Do'Shurh'do, friend. With a tale such at that, he will never need to purchase a drink for himself ever again, and this one suspects he might require such a thing quite urgently. This one has had spent more time alongside this Imperial in our excursion to Winterhold, and Sagex is impossibly brave in the face of certain death. He helped this one face his fear of the open frozen ocean... and he saved Do'Karth from the pincers of a Chaurus. This one owes Sagex a debt of gratitude, he would not be here without him. This one hopes to repay Sagex's bravery and compassion as our journey unfolds.
Rozalia:
It seems like so long ago that Do'Karth first heard of Rozalia when her and Sagex decided the best way to confront ice demons was by blowing themselves up, and it was no wonder that Do'Karth had had the opportunity to offer his service as a healer to this Breton when he noticed her pain. Roze is a kind, compassionate, and rather sociable woman whom this one admires. May Mara keep her safe, for Tamriel needs more people of her nature, especially in these dark times.
Tsleeixth: Do’Karth feels regret over his lingering prejudice against argonians, and Tsleeixth has been an exceptional companion... this one believes he wishes to be friends. He has certainly earned this one's respect, and no small amount of admiration, and Do'Karth will strive to do right by Tsleeixth... even if his name is easier pronounced after sufficient drink.
Utu-Ja:
This one has not even seen this argonian, which is quite the accomplishment as they are not a race that blends in with this crowd. Do’Karth has heard Utu-Ja has an almost animalistic posture, which this one has to see. Khajiit should not have the monopoly on four-legged subspecies. Do’Karth heard that Utu-Ja has lead a rather miserable life and can be somewhat shy around others, which this one feels is a shame. Which makes it all the more tragic that Utu-Ja was killed escaping Windhelm with the rest of us. A damn tragedy; how much life was lost to those creatures? May the argonian find peace and acceptance he never knew in life in death.
Rhasha’Dar:
A fellow khajiit, and one Do’Karth has yet to meet! This one wonders if my Pelletinian counterpart has told his friends in the company that dar means thief as often as clever, or if anyone has bothered to figure it out. Alas, ignorance about our people runs rampant, and this one is all too happy to let it flourish for no other reason than it is quite amusing. Rhasha’Dar seems to be very much a peacemaker with others, and is quite a likeable individual. This one should speak to him, but Do’Karth is hesitant to speak of home. That was another life, and not Do’Karth’s.
Vurwe:
Ah, the other altmer, and this one has the head start on unrelenting snobbery prevalent in the noble classes and the Thalmor. This one does not wish to speak with a child who probably would jump in the river to cleanse herself of contact with my race, and this one wonders why a small child with no martial talent is among this company. Perhaps Commander Ashav lost a bet. Many things happened in the Reach Do’Karth did not witness, who could say what is true?
Daixanos:
Do'Karth spoke with this argonian briefly, as the one who calls himself Dax was bonding with Tsleeixth over their shared heritage... which reminds Do'Karth that there are khajiit within the company he has yet to seek out. This one takes for granted that there may not be time in the future, and he misses his people at times... so it is something he must do. This Dax is a hunter, both of man and animals, and this one hears he has enlisted due to doing tasks for Ashev that the company was not paid for. What is his compulsion, this one wonders? He seems blunt, uninterested. This one is not sure he wishes to find out what lays beneath the surface. There is an air of ruthlessness to Daixanos.
Raelyn
This one has not spoken to Raelyn, but he has heard her sing in the inn. Pleasant voice, tall tales... she certainly is a bard. It would be unsurprising if Leif took a fancy to her on this alone, but dark and brooding seldom attracts someone who seems to release energy and enthusiasm like a fire sheds heat. Apparently she will join with the company... this one finds it strange. She is no fighter, yet wishes to be drawn into the war? This one cannot help but feel that Ashav is truly getting desperate to replenish the depleted ranks.
Elmera
It is impossible to miss this dunmer woman's presence. She carries herself like a soldier, a warrior, and someone who has little humour or love to give. Jorwen and her apparently have already crossed paths in a very friction-filled way, and she is said to enforce Ashav's will with ruthless efficiency. The argonians are likely to hate her, and this one is cautious about her intentions. However, there is no doubt she will fight without fear against any the company faces. This one will stand by Jorwen if a divide forms.
Other Capabilities:
Night Eye: Do'Karth can see in the night and dark caves as easily as he can in the day, as is his people's biology
Climber: Do'Karth is an accomplished climber, having years under his belt of practice
Horse Rider: Do'Karth used to race sand steeds in the Alik'r desert. He is a confident and fairly skilled rider
Heat tolerant: Born of the desert, Do'Karth is both adapted well to living in and thriving in arid desert environments and being exceptionally tolerant of the climate.
Inventory
Cash: 17 Septims
(-2 for writing charcoal and paper in Windhelm)
(-4 in the Pale for a cooked hare, as well as Cyrodiilic Brandy and help at the caravan camp)
Keys and Lockpicks: None
Clothing and Armor: (From Appearance) He wears a simple embroidered, grey canvas thigh-length budi (traditional khajiit robe) that is not uncommon among the populace in Anequina, fastened at the waist with a large blue sash and a belt with numerous leather pouches. A set of black trousers rounds out his appearance, along with a heavy traveling cloak that has recently had a fur lining sewn into it to help protect against the harsh Skyrim cold. A simple blue bandanna is wrapped in a strip across his forehead and tied off at the back of his head.
Weapon and Ammunition: Quarterstaff, no other weapon
Potion and Arcane Supplies: 5 small vials and a mortar and pestle, three belt pouches dedicated to storing ingredients with smaller draw-string leather pouches to separate them.
Current ingredients: Snowberries, Mudcrab Chitin, Charred Skeever Hide, Blisterwort, Imp Stool, various flowers
Jewelry and Novelty Items: Elsweyr crafted amulets of S’rendarr, writing utensils. He gifted his Elsweyr crafted amulet of Mara to his lover, Sevine.
Books and Documents: An empty journal he uses as a sketchpad, a heavily-abused copy of An Explorer’s Guide to Skyrim with several pages torn out, evidently to help start fires or for hygienic purposes.
Food, Drinks, Provisions: A 2 liter water skin, a jar of honey, a paper-wrapped salmon steak, seared slaughter fish, an empty soup flask.
Bags, Pouches, Packs: A belt pouch with 8 leather pouches of various sizes that is fastened around Do’Karth’s waist, a small singles strapped knapsack that contains a folded bedroll and wool blanket, a tinderbox, a pair of wooden bowls, some assorted cutlery, a cooking pot.
Other: A woodcutting axe, a large pouch of moonsugar, sewing kit and other leather and fabric patching kit.
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