Post by Dar'Kari on Mar 5, 2012 16:32:19 GMT -6
What's your Name?
Name: Dar'Kari
Nickname: N/A
Ah, I see. Tell me, what do you look like?
Age: 26 years
Race: Khajiit
Gender: male
Hair color:
*hair -- a rich, smoky black color
*fur -- smooth grey with white forehead spots, a white muzzle and chin, and thin black stripes on his cheek and above his spots. The fur on his body is splattered with darker flecks, but stripes dominantly stand out around his wrist, lower calves/ankles, and tail-tip.
Eye color: golden-amber
Height: 5"7
Weight: 122 lbs.
(I will provide a picture when I can. :3 )
Tell Me About Yourself:
Homeland: Skyrim
Personality:
Dar'Kari is a man of few words, preferring to using his blade over his voice. He is not very trusting, especially not to nords, and is likely to believe a Khajiit or Argonian's word over anyone else's, due to the people he grew up around. Of course, as a Dark Brotherhood assassin, he carries out contracts with no hesitation; he trusts and respects the Night Mother and Sithis, for he believes they are the only two that may do him no wrong. His belief in the Dread Lord is unwavering.
The only two living creatures with his complete trust in all of Tamriel are Tsavashka, who he had not seen since his escape, and Iram-Kei, the Inn Keeper's assistant. However, he seldom ever speaks of the two, for he barely engages in an on-going conversation anyway. He prefers that the other assassins see him as an emotionless killer, like he's beginning to feel more like every day.
Likes:
+ Killing people; especially racist Nords
+ Breaking-and-entering
+ Pickpocketing and nabbing some coins without having to slaughter them and attract the attention of a guard
+ Selling poisoned fruits and vegetables and then following his victims and looting them after death, as well as any extra coin they were carrying.
+ Stealing items, which I suppose you can include with breaking-and-entering.
Dislikes:
- Nords
- Bards
- Heavy alcohol -- he hates getting drunk because of the blackouts it gives him, because he often doesn't remember anything after that, which leads me to his next dislike:
- He hates feeling vulnerable
- City hold guards -- they always get in his way
- Arrogant civilians; his short temper for them and their "kind" is what triggered the killer gene in him
Fears:
* He fears getting caught by guards on any contracts, unless of course, they take place outside of a city or hamlet
* He lacks a strong warrior gene, so while being able to mask over this fear, being confronted in bright daylight by trained warriors may make this kitty shake in his fur
* Talking to people (lol). He's very untrusting and anti-social.
* Betrayal or treachery. He can't stand it.
Relationship status: Single
Gender Preference: Females -- he also prefers khajiit ladies over other races
Skills:
Preferred Skill: SNEAK
Secondary Skills:
PICKPOCKET
ARCHERY
LOCKPICKING
Least Favored Skill: BLOCK
Weapons and Armor:
Light or Heavy Armor: Light
Armor type: Ancient Shrouded Armor Set
One or Two handed weapon: One
Weapon: Blade of Woe
Affiliation:
Faction: The Dark Brotherhood
Tell Me About Your Past:
Bio/History:
Dar'Kari's younger life consisted solely of traveling all across of Skyrim. His mother owned a Khajiit Caravan back in the day, before civil war between the Imperials and Stormcloaks broke out.
Dar'Kari, or, Ma'Kari at the time, was only a cub when he was forced to be separated from his dearest mother when a group of Nord bandits assaulted the Caravan guards and his mother. His mother's childhood friend had been forced to flee with the cub after his elderly mother instructed her to do so. Tsavashka, the female Khajiit, ran away with Ma'Kari on horseback till they reached the city of Windhelm.
Windhelm was no more welcoming to them than the harsh, snowy wilderness outside. Tsavashka pleaded with the Nords to let her and the cub inside, for they had not been able to grab any supplies before the raid. They would essentially either starve or freeze to death at this rate.
The Nord people were stubborn however, and locked the city's gate to show their contempt.
While Ma'Kari was still a young lad, he was still old enough to understand the unfairness of their mistreatment. Tsavashka had once been pretty and young, but the few days spent with nothing to eat and no blankets to keep them warm was fresh on her now-bony, tired face.
While Tsavashka lumbered away weakly, one of the Argonians on the docks invited the two Khajiit into their assemblage for a rest and some warm mead.
Ma'Kari grew up on the chilly docks of Windhelm with the Argonians and when he was old enough, started to help out. The lizard-folk at that point, began to teach him the only way for the beast folk to survive in Skyrim: theft. They taught him how to smuggle some items from the loads that were shipped in back to the assemblage. Since they had such little payment from the Nords, it was necessary for them to get by. Being a Khajiit, stealing little portions from the crates was almost completely natural to the young male.
It was easy to see that the Argonians were impressed, some even jealous.
More years passed and Ma'Kari, who was now a young man, had become somewhat careless in his abduction of cargo. He had become so accustomed of his thieving being so "flawless" (in the words of Tsavashka). One day, he made a fateful mistake. The portion he had stolen from one of the crates had been too large this time -- large enough to catch the attention of one of the Noblemen in Windhelm.
Ma'Kari was grabbed by two Windhelm Guards and hauled into the city, despite Tsavashka and the Argonians' protests. Tsavashka had long since been like a mother to him, and the lizard-folk like close cousins or uncles and aunts, even. There was even a Argonian about Ma'Kari's age named Iram-Kei, who was also orphaned and taken care of by his Aunt.
However, despite their protectiveness and love for the small Khajiit, they were not insane enough to challenge the hold's guards to the point of drawing weapons. They could not take on a whole city, and they knew it. Ma'Kari knew it, too. He could only watch as Tsavashka was held back by two Argonian men to prevent her from doing some drastic to the guards.
In the city, Ma'Kari was dragged all the way to the jail and thrown into a cell. After being imprisoned there for a few hours, a grim looking Noble strode toward his cell, a foot or so behind the bars. Accompanying him were two tough looking men in fur armor... fur... this was obviously some kind of taunt. He could only pray that it was made out of rabbit or saber cat fur, and not the fur of a Khajiit like they apparently wanted him to believe.
It became apparent to him that the noble had slipped the guards patrolling the keep a few coins after the cell gates opened and the two burly men stepped foot inside. First, they interrogated him, asking if this was his first time stealing cargo off the ship. He played innocent, for the sake of Tsavashka, the Argonians, and himself. If they were to invade the assemblage, they would be sure to find some of the "lost items" from their cargo.
Ma'Kari whined for forgiveness and swore he'd never try to steal anything again, though this didn't satisfy the nobleman. This man either had a tough past regarding thieves, or an undying hatred for his kind. Or both. Many believed that "thief" was just a synonym of "Khajiit".
Ma'Kari was jailed for two days, visited by the men both days and beaten. He could see both pity and humor flashing in the eyes of the other men and women in jail. He was their entertainment for the day.
The young Khajiit had never seen any other thief treated in such a manor. Why couldn't they just lock him up and be done with it? The next day, after a gnawing on a loaf of stale bread, the men came back with the nobleman sitting and watching a good distance away with a bored expression on his face.
Ma'Kari made sure to mimic his expression. The mercenaries and jailbirds would not get a show today. No tears, to pleas to stop, nothing. At first, the men seemed confused, then they got frustrated, and then they got angry. But while he let them pummel him, he was able to snag a lockpick out of their pockets.
When their "session" was over after Ma'Kari still refused to talk, he waited till nightfall and set to work on breaking out. There was a panel in the back of his cell that led to a sewer underground. Though much more disgusting, it was much safer than trying to waltz out the front cell door.
Luck was on his side, as he was able to slip into the sewer and eventually find his way out by taking one of the torch's on the wall an using it for light.
Upon escape, he fled from Windhelm, leaving both the risk of getting recaptured behind but also the last trace of whatever family he had made there. However, he wasn't able to get too far from Windhelm before his legs gave out and he felt to the ground, bleeding and bruised.
When he awoke, yellow eyes met white and he found himself wrapped up in a bedroll under a tent. He had been bandaged and his cuts tended to, the smell of roasted salmon entering his nostrils.
Iram-Kei had set up a small camp, explaining to the Khajiit how news of his escape had spread through Windhelm like wildfire and that finding him was easy -- he had left a trail of blood in his wake that Iram had covered up as he tracked him.
He was also handed a ring, a beautiful silver ring a black stripe around it and three sharp-looking garnets embedded into it. Iram explained that it was from Tsavashka, but it was not any kind of ring, it was what she had called a "Nightband" that would help him in terms of stealth in the future.
From Iram, Ma'Kari also received an iron dagger, a hunting bow, and a set of iron arrows, as well as hardy portions of meat and vegetables to keep him well. Iram also generously replaced Ma'Kari's jail attire, which consisted of greasy rags, with a better set to keep him warm.
They decided that together, they would travel to Riften, which was the closest city to Windhelm and also seemingly more "racially accepting".
While Iram-Kei seemed fine in the city, Ma'Kari's thoughts were too clouded to appreciate whatever Riften had to offer around him, which really wasn't that much. He had a decent living here, though. Iram-Kei was able to strike up a deal with an Inn keeper to allow them a free room to share if they swept and served customers during daytime. While the Argonian was fine with this, Ma'Kari was still troubled. He couldn't stop thinking about Tsavashka and the assemblage, wondering how they were doing. Iram-Kei sacrificed a lot by chasing after him and taking care of him in his darkest hour, and Ma'Kari appreciated that. However, he was growing old of working at an Inn while his blood boiled in rage, a yearn for revenge obscuring his dreams.
Eventually, on a fairly sunny day, Ma'Kari put his dagger in his sheath, his arrows and bow on his back, some food in his pocket, and ran back to Windhelm. The journey took him a day or so, and he sneaked back into the city. It took a lot of tricky maneuvering to get past the guards, but he did it. He crept along the city walls until he found the man he was looking for. He stalked the noble til night fell and the Nord retreated into his house. The Khajiit dropped down in front of his house and picked the lock, using a few lockpicks he had bought from Riften's Blacksmith. After a broken lockpick or two, he successfully entered the Nord's house, seeing the nobleman lying snug in his bed. Ma'Kari drew his blade and slaughtered him quickly, covering his mouth with his hand to muffle what would have been a brief cry of agony and the dagger slit his throat.
While in the man's house, Ma'Kari took this opportunity to loot both the body and the rest of his house for valuables such as rings, necklaces, amethysts, garnets -- anything he could carry and would give him more than 10 septims.
He even grabbed most of his food for the trip back home and the fact his stomach needed some filling. But not just that...
On his way out from Windhelm, he stopped by the Argonian Assemblage. Using a quill and ink he had also stolen, he wrote a short letter to Tsavashka and the Argonians and tucked it in a crate he had stuffed with beer, ale, meat, vegetables, and bread and cheeses before taking his remainder and dashing off to Riften.
Iram-Kei had the decency not to ask what Ma'Kari had done in Windhelm, whether it was out of respect or because he knew.
Ma'Kari, however, was not ashamed of what he'd done. If anything, he wished he'd taken the time to stop and behead the guards that had dragged him away, or the pair that had prevented Tsavashka and himself from entering the city. Or, better yet, the mercenaries.
About a solid week later, he fell asleep and woke up in a strange place; a shack on the western-most side of Skyrim. Confused and frustrated, he sat in silence, trying to figure out where he was, before he realized he was not alone. There was another being in the shack, cloaked in skin-tight, red-and-black attire.
The Night Mother had sensed his ruthlessness in the murder of the nobleman, a Nord in which he didn't even know the name of, and had sent an initiate to invite him into the Brotherhood.
Realizing that this might be what he had been looking for; the excitement that Riften lacked, he agreed and began his new life in the Falkreath Sanctuary as an assassin. When asked for his name, he told them, "Dar'Kari."
He has served the Dread Lord and the Unholy Matron ever since, carrying out their will as instructed.
Other:
Other Accounts: N/A
RP experience: 7 years, bro.[/font]
