Travel-worn, rugged, and hard in both disposition and appearance, Khazki is the embodiment of someone who’s spent their entire adult life on the road, braving the weather, wildlife, and dangerous people alike. Standing at a modest 5’07” in height, Khazki certainly towers over few people, but she is certainly formidable for her somewhat defined musculature; although hardly approaching a well-fed and constantly training gladiator in terms of physique, she is in exceptional physical condition despite her somewhat scrawny appearance, given her training and long days marching and fighting in heavy armour; most of what she eats is burned away through physical exertion thanks to her non-sedimentary lifestyle.

Typical of a Cathay Khajiit, Khazki walks flatfooted like a human or elf and employs a short but symmetrical snout and muzzle that conceal a set of sharp, pointed feline teeth. Sporting high cheekbones and a wide jaw, she certainly appears to be robust, and she has the stories to confirm that. Her wide brow is adorned with a short-kept mane that is braided to neck-length black hair, each of which is ended with a golden ring, engraved in Pelletinian style. Likewise, her ears are pierced in a similar fashion, contrasting nicely against her stripped and spotted chocolate-brown fur coat that is lighter about the muzzle and chest, and the underside of her tail, arms, and her calves.

Perhaps Khazki’s most striking feature are her eyes, a dark amber that stare back with narrow feline slits nestled in a depression of dark brown fur, giving her the impression of having war paint that affords her a somewhat fierce appearance that matches her rather unapproachable personality. If any were to see her outside of her armour in her simple cotton clothing, her body has several scars that are mostly covered by fur, but still leave a few visible white streaks across her back, arms and abdomen, along with a couple of very slight markings on her right cheek that are barely visible to the casual onlooker.

Brutally honest, uninviting, and arrogant are all words that have described Khazki at some point or another. Preferring the company of herself and herself alone, Khazki wastes few words with people she does not know, and she expresses minimal interest in getting to know people. Unafraid of confrontation and at times deliberately antagonizing, she can be rather provocative when she sets her mind to it.

While most would expect a Khajiit to share a similar dialect and disposition as their peers, Khazki is an anomaly among her kind in that she speaks with a clear, almost Imperial infliction and entirely in first-person pronouns. She has explained this as such, ”Men and Mer do not cut Khajiit slack when interacting with them; to them, we’re all thieves, murderers, and skooma pushing low-lives that will ruin their lives. Even the most enlightened person can be a racist piece of troll shit, so I’ve found if you walk like them, talk like them, and act like them, the occasional person might forget that I’m not like them. Talk like a weirdo, get treated like a weirdo, it seems.” While some Khajiit might criticize her for hiding from her cultural heritage if not outright rejecting it, Khazki couldn’t care less about what they think. ”It’s earned me meals and safe places to rest my head at night. Let them squawk; I’m allowed in cities they aren’t.”

Khazki is very slow to trust, and she thinks even the kindest person has a selfish agenda behind their self-gratifying smiles. She thinks little of rank or station of birth, finding nobles in particular amusing in that they think their names mean anything worthwhile. However, Khazki is a survivor and will do whatever it takes to make it another day, even if it means offering her services to people who have something she needs, even if she does not trust their intentions.

While she is indeed standoffish and quick to brush people off, Khazki is a lonely individual who enjoys remote companionship, even if she would never admit it, and nights around a camp fire listening to other traveller’s stories have been some of the few bright spots on an otherwise trying life. While she doesn’t typically show vulnerability, she’s struggled since childhood with feeling discarded and inadequate, and much of her current behaviour and outlook is a result of her striking back at the world so she’ll never be seen as weak or a mistake again. This unfortunately results in her often having little empathy for others, even if they are in peril. It simply is not her problem to address.

Most of her interests are rustic in nature, including relaxing by the fireside, swimming, trapping, and the sounds of the forests. She enjoys wild flowers, songbirds, and even the howls of wolves. Not one who enjoys cities or crowds, Khazki nevertheless treasures good foods and the few times she doesn’t actually have to provide for herself. She is also an accomplished reader, and books have often been one of the few entertainment outlets she’s had while traveling, often bartering and trading books with other travelers to keep herself stimulated and her mind sharp. She also has an impressive visual memory and attention to detail, and she has often drawn up maps of places she’s been and routes traveled, a necessity if one does not wish to become lost.

Born during a terrible winter storm in the tropical Southern peninsula of the Kingdom of Pelletine under the sign of the Thief several months after her family was assaulted and mother raped by corsairs that had prowled along the Southern Elsweyr coast and finding a lone moon sugar plantation outside of the Senchal city limits to be an easy target, Marassa was thrust into the world with the odds already stacked against the unwanted bastard infant. Things would not get any easier, even from day one.

As an adolescent, Khazki’s parents, S’Riraya (mother) and Ra’Nair (father) tried to love and care of the 4th child of their family, but she remained a symbol of the horrible event that had seen their youngest son abducted and the mother defiled by one of the corsairs, a Khajiit man they had heard referred to as Dar’Nara. Having her biological father’s eyes and mane, Khazki took after the hated man more so than her mother, which infrequently set her father into fits of rage, loudly expressing his displeasure at having to care for a child that wasn’t his and should not have been born. It was a sentiment that was engrained in the young Khajiit, one her two brothers, J’Tagah and J’Zaddi were all too eager to embrace to not only please their father, and their malice extended to this younger half-sister, whom they viewed as always having one foot out of the door. J’Tagah was an Alfiq and incapable of speech, and J’Zaddi was an Ohmes, and as such looked far closer to a Bosmer than a typical Khajiit. The fact Khazki was of the same breed as both of her parents was seen as a slight and a cruel joke by the gods. As such, Khazki’s family never bothered to give her a prefix to her name. She simply wasn’t worthy of the endearment or acknowledgement past the bare essentials of keeping this girl alive.

Given her mother’s predisposition to overindulge in moon sugar and in a few cases, Skooma, it was clear she was struggling with her predicament and choices. On one particularly memorable day, a tearful, intoxicated and enraged S’Riraya threw a vase at Khazki, screaming that she should have thrown her into the sea when she was born. The admission shocked Khazki, who before that moment looked at her mother as the only supportive person in her life, and S’Riraya had tried to raise her and live her, as difficult as it was. However, the past was not easily overcome, and that single night changed Khazki destiny forever. It became exceedingly clear that she would never find a true place in her family and would have to find her own path.

And so the very next day, three weeks after her seventh birthday, Khazki left home and ventured into the city of Senchal, an hour walk away. Since Senchal was a port city, perhaps she could find a ship willing to whisk her away to some far away land. A child walking the streets of one of the most dangerous and crime ridden cities in all of Tamriel was asking for trouble, and sure enough, it found her before long. Confronted by two men, sailors from the Dominion on shore leave, Khazki was cornered in a back alley, with nothing but a stick to defend herself. It was a fearful situation she would never forget, but also, where her fortunes turned for the better; as one of the men grabbed her by the wrist, her suddenly cried out in pain as an unseen assailant bludgeoned him with a cane. Khazki was awestruck; an older gentleman, a Suthay-raht of middle age with greying fur brought down the two sailors with speed, grace, and precision that the young girl had never imagined possible. Having rescued the child, the man asked Khazki what she was thinking wandering the streets alone. His voice, weathered like an oak and unlike any she’d heard before, was kindly but authoritative. She answered dutifully that she was searching for her brother. Without breaking stride or hesitation, she immediately asked if he would teach her how to fight like he did.

With a smile, the gentleman said, “We’ll see.”

The man’s name was Ra’Rasargo, a modestly famous adventurer from years ago that had travelled Tamriel and writing a series of memoirs that became popular not only in the Khajiit kingdoms, but even finding their way within Bosmeri and even Imperial, Redguard, and Breton circles, since the Khajiit’s adventures took him to those exotic lands and he painted them all in a vivid, favorable light. In his retirement years, he decided to open a dojo to pass on his skills to those willing to pay the price of a man who had put Senchal on the map for something other than its unflattering reputation for crime and piracy. He had happened across Khazki when he was on the way back from the market, and he was intensely curious about how such a naïve and young girl was wandering Senchal’s streets alone.

Khazki explained her predicament at home, what her family was like and her plan to find her half-brother, to which Ra’Rasargo listened politely. He explained that he was not taking on any students, but he would offer a few lessons to help her be at least a little prepared for the world, but he’d have to take her back to her family since they’d be worried about her missing. Disheartened, but not in a position to argue, Khazki allowed herself to be escorted back home via carriage, where Ra’Rasargo witnessed firsthand exactly how unpleasant Khazki’s home was. Explaining to her parents exactly what had happened, they did not even wait for him to leave to begin chastising her. Intervening, Ra’Rasargo introduced himself formally, and with Khazki’s father, at least, the man was well known. Ra’Rasargo said that he was looking to take on a helper since his body wasn’t what it once was and that Khazki had proven to have been an exceptional help already. Agreeing to allow Khazki to help under Ra’Rasargo if for no other reason than to get her out of their lives for a good portion of each day, Khazki’s parents agreed, even arranging a carriage there and back to the plantation every day. And so, unbeknownst to Khazki’s family and the young girl, her apprenticeship had officially begun.

After a full year of cleaning the dojo, helping prepare meals and other housekeeping tasks, Khazki went to pick up the broom one day and found a long wooden practice sword in its place. Taking the practice weapon in hand, she sought out Ra’Rasargo out, asking if it were a gift. The mentor smiled, telling her that she’d have to earn it. Spending the day teaching her the basics of sword stances, Ra’Rasargo finished the day by telling her that she had earned her place, and his respect, by being responsible and a diligent worker for someone so young and he asked her if her goal was still to find her brother. Upon hearing her answer, the Suthay-raht enrolled Khazki as one of his students. And so began her training in earnest.

For the next ten years, Khazki developed from a young scrawny girl into a young woman who was disciplined, a quick study, and irrepressibly enthusiastic. While she was trained with a one-handed practice sword, her own lack of strength and bad habits that just couldn’t be drilled out of her made Khazki grow into a two-handed swordfighter, developing something of an unorthodox stance, but not something that was entirely unheard of. Even after her strength built, Khazki preferred the longer and heavier blades, finding confidence in the reach and power one could put into the weapon, and by her own sheepish admission, it made her look heroic. Likewise, while she was quick and agile, she did not have the instincts and reflexes to block blows reliably, and so heavier armour was introduced, which in turn built her strength and confidence considerably. By the end of her training, Khazki was an exceptional student and a proficient swordswoman.

At the age of nine, some measure of innate magical ability was noted in Khazki when herself and a pair of other students had found a beginner’s spell tome to try and cast Candlelight. While the other two gave up fairly easily, Khazki felt something of a connection and her own determination to succeed, especially after hearing Ra’Rasargo’s wife, Dra’Sasheira who was an accomplished mage and taught her own lessons to aspiring Khajiit mages in the same dojo, mention in one of her lessons that magical energy was present in all living things, but some people like the Altmer had the innate ability to tap into that energy like a runner taps into his stamina. Others, she reasoned, could learn to do such a thing through great concentration and practice. Khazki wanted to put that to the test. After two weeks of struggling with the tome, reading it cover to cover and treating its methods like her own swordsmanship and physical conditioning, the incredible happened; for a fleeting moment, a brilliant incandescent orb the size of an acorn emerged in her palm before becoming snuffed out. Elated and encouraged, even after several days between successes, and after two months of practice and guidance from Dra’Sasheira, Khazki was able to form a fully developed mage light spell. Khazki was well on her way to becoming a mage- of sorts. Augmenting her regular training with quick side lessons after training sessions, Khazki spent the next several years mastering a small handful of spells. While she still has a long way to go to even match the level of the average rung of magical intuitional proficiency one would expect from the College of Winterhold or the long defunct Mage’s Guild. That was never her end goal, regardless; it was simply another talent that could aid her in her eventual mission, a destination she never wavered from.

It wasn’t a secret that Khazki was Ra’Rasargo’s favoured pupil; the two had shared an immediate bond from the first day they met by chance, and a strong bond of mutual respect developed between the two, even going so far that in some ways, Ra’Rasargo was like a surrogate father for Khazki, while she became something like the daughter him and Dra’Sasheira never had. He shared his tales with her of his time as an adventurer, his treasure collection, correspondence with some famous individuals across Tamriel, and a number of other things that only she was privileged to. As she decided she was of age to begin a journey of her own, Ra’Rasargo had a gift for her; using the Septims he had been saving from the leftover carriage fare her family had allotted over the years, Ra’Rasargo had managed to commission a Skyforge Steel greatsword through his contacts in Whiterun for Khazki, wanting to give her the best possible chance moving forward. Included in this parcel was a set of common steel armour of Nord craftsmanship, since Ra’Rasargo believed it to be the best quality one could buy on a modest budget. While the sword was something of a rarity and in some ways priceless due to its scarcity, it turns out calling in favours years after saving a life has perks.

Clad in new armour and with a deeply personal weapon in hand, Marassa bid her two mentors a tearful goodbye and promised to return when she had found a story of her own, Khazki departed Senchal, heading North, years of planning about to be put to the test. Showing up at her home one last time in her new equipment, finally putting to rest the suspicion she was receiving training at the dojo, Khazki told her family not to expect to see her again. There was no love lost at this departure; she no longer cared for their approval or acceptance.

That was nearly ten years ago, and it almost ended within a month when Khazki had attempted to cross the Anequina desert unprepared, only surviving thanks to one of the nomadic tribes of the North. Nursed back to health and given more adequate traveling materials to survive a desert crossing as well as the wisdom of those who called the desert sands home, Khazki set out again and in earnest began her quest, learning quickly that the road was a merciless place for the unprepared and the inexperienced. Still, despite the countless hardships she faced, learning how to make snares to catch small game, scavenging food, where to find clean water, each lesson prefaced with near-death experiences quite often including starvation and near-dehydration on top of illness, animal attacks, and exposure to the elements, each settlement and building was salvation, and whatever books on local flora and fauna, important landmarks and sources of water became worth their price in gold. Often paying her way with labour and odd jobs, Khazki was within two years no longer the wild-eyed and excitable young girl she used to be; the woman who emerged was something remarkably harder and far less enthusiastic. Every day was a new and often painful lesson, and even figuring out how to survive and make shelters resulted in burns, entrapment, puncture wounds, and all sorts of other unpleasant calamities. Had it not been for the handful of healing spells Khazki had learned from Dra’Sasheira, she would have died long ago. Despite the attack from wildlife and creatures of the lands, it turned out the real heartless beasts were those of the two legged variety; other people.

Khazki was only 17 when she first had to take a life; a trio of bandits that saw her as an easy mark as she was traversing Cyrodiil, not far from the Argonian border. The experience rattled her; she had always known people were capable of such depravity, but to witness it first hand was something else entirely. This was a situation of life and death; there would be no walking away from it if things didn’t turn the way she hoped. Forcing herself to remain calm and remember the years of drills and stances she’d trained with for years, she was surprised to find herself not only able to fend off their blows but the openings in their own defences were glaring and easy to exploit. The difference between a trained warrior, albeit inexperience, and a group of opportunistic bandits who likely only ever targeted victims they thought would be a quick kill, or at least wealthy enough to take the risk. The sword alone would have been enough to make Khazki a prime target for irrefutable sorts, she discovered. Killing one of the attackers with a decapitating swing and amputating a hand of another, the surviving bandits made off, leaving Khazki with a corpse. Not quite prepared for the harsh reality of such ferocious bloodshed, Khazki was awash with a typhoon of conflicting feelings, but she was pleasantly surprised she didn’t shed a tear over the incident. The bastard had what was coming.

And he certainly wasn’t the last to try.

Each new day brought peril, and even bedding down for the night was something that necessitated light sleeping and a hand on her sword at all times. This state of hyper-vigilance quickly drove Khazki into the distrustful person she would eventually become; literally anyone could be a threat, and often, they were. Some, like the bandits, were overt. Others were manipulative and tried to take her when her guard was down after some token generosity. Her armour became damaged in time, and what coin she could pick off her failed assailants were often spent on maintaining her equipment when she arrived in settlements. What precious little remained often went to a bed for the night or some fresh food, but for the most part, Khazki was alone in the wilds and discovering the reality that just because you’ve planned on something your entire life doesn’t mean it was going to be simple. Determined not to turn back and return in shame, she pressed on, and like shedding pieces of excess clothing, the young idealistic and naïve girl that had resolved many years ago to leave home to become a renown adventurer was left behind mile by mile, eventually refining her into the hard young woman she is today.

Crossing the border into Cyrodiil was a tricky feat, since border control crossings were tightly watched by Legion garrisons and that last thing she needed was to be mistaken as a Thalmor spy, and already having learned a few far too harsh lessons about traveling alone, Khazki crossed through the thick forests far from roads and into the Imperial province, heading North to Bravil to resupply and orient herself. Finding the city downcast and crime ridden, although not quite to the extent of Senchal, Khazki quickly managed to shed suspicions of her potential Aldmeri Dominion ties by hiring her sword out to protect businesses, escort the vulnerable late at night, and in one particular instance, volunteering her services to the city guard to help clear out a skooma den. This feat helped cement her reputation with the local authorities as someone who at the very least wasn't any better or worse than the locals and wasn't worth keeping a close eye on. One of the guard sergeants gave her a friendly bit of advice; lose the accent. If she maintained her typical manner of speech, she was never going to shed suspicion against her. And so over the next several months, Khazki practiced speaking in Imperial mannerisms and imitating the Nibenese accent. While hardly perfect, her efforts did pay off and in some cases she was able to blend in with the locals.

Having spent most of her first year in Cyrodiil, heading between cities and the surrounding countryside between odd jobs, Khazki eventually made her way to Cheydinhal, a city renown for its large population of Dunmer citizens. It wasn't long before she came across a group of traders that routinely made the journey between Cheydinhal and Mournhold, keeping a fairly lucrative and mutually beneficial trade relationship between the two cities, as well as the smaller towns and villages in between. With one of the caravan guards taking leave to spend time with his sister in Cheydinhal, the traders were looking for a new guard to help escort the supplies back to Mournhold. Not exactly enthusiastic about the prospect of spending weeks with people she did not know, and Dunmer at that, Khazki decided to bite down on her reservations and volunteer her services. After all, if she couldn't protect herself from a bunch of traders, what damn good was she?

As it turned out, her time with the traders turned out being one of the more memorable and enjoyable parts of Khazki's life. Jovial, light-spirited and always ready with a song, story, or joke, the Dunmer caravan was as curious about Khazki as she was about them, and for the first time since leaving Ra'Rasargo, Khazki felt unconditionally accepted for who and what she was. There were no questions about her origin, no prejudice against her species, and no fearing that she would make off in the night with their supplies. When she brought it up to the caravan's leader, Garvys, the Dunmer just laughed it off. "Well, Sera, you travel long enough, you meet people from all sorts. I've found if a Khajiit means you ill, they don't come up to you asking for a job. Besides, don't the Thalmor consider it blasphemy to be outfitted in that garb?" he asked, tapping her armour. It was a fair point, and one that seemed to resonate the more she traveled East. While the Thalmor had a long reach, it seemed like Morrowind was a world away from that particular trouble. It was almost reassuring.

For the next four years, Khazki made Morrowind her home, finding in the Dunmer a resourceful and hardy people that had some strange cultural traditions and a questionable predisposition towards legalized slavery, but that wasn't Khazki's concern. The plight of a few impoverished Dunmer or Argonian captives wasn't something that was going to change overnight, and being an outsider didn't exactly give one leverage for social change. Instead, Khazki spent most of her time traveling from village to village, offering her services in exchange for food and lodging, picking up parts of the Dunmeri language and finding the entire culture far more mage-centric than Pelletine. While Khazki faced her share of discrimination, it was still less severe than she'd expected, even going so far as to treating N'Wah as a nickname rather than an insult. Perhaps, she conceded, her initial skepticism towards the Dunmer had something to do with growing up under the Altmers' heel as a vassal state. Morrowind was a place to start over, and so long as she didn't stick her nose where it didn't belong, the Dark Elves were far more accommodating than they had the right to be. Perhaps after the apocalyptic nightmare of the Red Mountain erupting years ago made the Dunmer far less picky about people from far off lands coming to lend aid and earn a living. At least, in Khazki's mind, she wasn't a Nord. The Skyrim civil war and word of the treatment of the Dunmer in Windhelm was a sore point of contention for much of the citizens of Morrowind.

Spending most of her time mostly in the more vibrant East from Firewatch in the far North to Tear in the South, learning how to survive in the ash-sewn landscape and adopting Dunmeri garb to both assimilate into the culture and for practical reasons; clothing tends to wear out when you travel and work constantly and it is far more adapted to the Morrowind climate. Continuing her skills with trapping, Khazki made a meager living trapping and selling kwama, shalk, and even young guar to receptive vendors that could make use out the meats and crafting materials the creatures provided. This proved especially true for the Ashlanders in the North and even into Solstheim (a locale Khazki had only ever been to a handful of times, albeit for prolonged stays each time) since the nomadic tribes tended to live off the land and bartering far more than the more urbanized Dunmer in the South, although it took some time and effort to be even granted an audience; Ashlanders were notorious for being openly hostile and spiteful towards outsiders, especially those who were not of Dunmer descent. However, with stubborn perseverance and after proving herself to be a bane to the reavers that plagued the coasts, Khazki was reluctantly accepted as a friend by a few of the tribes.

It was with the Ashlanders that Khazki found the most kinship since their hardships were not unlike her own and once she proved herself to be a friend to the tribes, she was permitted to come and go as she pleased, usually bringing back bounties the Ashlanders found themselves in need of, particularly from the mainland. Adopting their way of life when under their host, Khazki had ample opportunities to practice and refine her magic, practice her swordsmanship, and take part in maintaining the camps. On occasion, she took up arms to defend the camps from rivals, bandits, Ash Spawn, and all sorts of other hostile intruders, often taking injuries for her actions. It took years, but eventually Khazki earned her place among the Ashlanders. For an outsider, they reasoned, she was at least capable and willing to respect their way of life.

Content to say in Morrowind, and even on occasion joining in on excursions into the various dungeons that littered the lands, the air shifted when the Nerevarine returned, and with him, a widespread devotion to this living god and a surge in Dunmeri nationalism. Sensing that it would be wise to leave the province sooner rather than later, and with the Civil War in Skyrim drawing to a close, Khazki made her way into Skyrim, where she has remained ever since.

Finding Skyrim to be a much more cold and inhospitable land, both with the climate and the people, Khazki has made a very meager living the past three years, traveling mostly in the more temperate South between Riften and Markarth, although rarely ever being permitted to enter any of the cities due to her being mistaken, or the distinction not being made, for a Khajiit caravan member. Once again, the stigma of being a cat that was going to steal and disperse illicit substances among the local Nord populace began to hound her, and her armour and sword brought up an unexpected wrinkle of hostility; Khazki has endured a lot of fights from Nords accusing her of having stolen her armour and weapon from the dead. What warmth she had enjoyed from the typically aloof and distrustful Ashlanders was becoming a distant memory fast; even most villages wouldn't tolerate Khazki's presence, often dealing with outright hostility. What people often gave her a chance to earn a bit of coin had her trap hares, defend livestock, chop wood or even on occasion go hunt down bandits that plagued the farms and unprotected settlements. Most of her time was spent around Riften, a city notorious for thieves and a seedy crime underbelly, since it had bigger worries than a long Khajiit that largely kept to herself and had openly told those that sought to canvas her for less than reputable work to "Fuck off.". She wasn't making any friends, but she gave no reason for anyone to assume she had ties to the Thieves Guild.

When the Akaviri invasion hit Windhelm, Khazki knew that it wasn't going to be safe in the Rift for long and so she began to make her way West once more, following rumours and refugees as she encountered them to stay away from known Kamal locations. The noose was tightening around Skyrim, as it were, and she quickly decided that her best bet to keep ahead of the war was to charter a ship far way from the invaders.

Arriving in Dawnstar, Khazki quickly learned of a short-handed mercenary company that had a ship, and they needed a sword. It was a match made in Aetherius.

Expert: 2H Blade
Adept: Heavy Armour, Alteration Magic
Apprentice: Restoration Magic, Ta'agra, Athletics, Provisioning
Novice: Dunmeris

Tactless: Khazki is prone to indifference at best, open callousness at worst to people she doesn’t care for, which is most. A combination of brutal honesty and a lack of empathy make her a difficult person to coexist with at times. She will say what she’s thinking, consequences be damned.

Aloof: Cold and distant,Khazki doesn’t take a keen interest in situations or people that don’t immediately involve her. A lack of passion for the severity of causes that don’t immediately relate to her own personal goals mean she is not one to volunteer or stick her neck out for others most of the time.

Distrustful: It takes a lot of work to have Khazki open up to strangers, and even more to trust their motivations. She keeps people at swords’ length and is neither surprised nor upset by betrayals; it’s simply what people do in her mind.

Non-military values and experience: Used to solitude and individual skill at arms, learning even rudimentary tactics and strategies is something that will be entirely new for her, and she will likely hate every minute of it. Not used to taking orders, giving them, or recognizing military maneuvers and strategies, she has no mind for logistics save for provisioning and all that matters to her is the moment she’s in.

Mild phobia towards Argonians: Growing up, Khazki heard the stories of how mysterious and deadly Argonia and its denizens were. This was a large reason for her avoiding the province altogether, and her time among the Dunmer reinforced the negative views of Argonians. She views Argonians as disease carriers that steal people away in the night and may or may not be mentally linked by the Hist. She keeps them at a distance.


Resentment towards Altmer: Altmer means Thalmor, and Thalmor means oppression. While she personally didn’t suffer at the hands of the Thalmor during Elsweyr’s time as a Dominion vassal state, Khazki heard enough stories and felt the resentment the public held towards the Thalmor in private. Being under the heel of another race, and an extremely militant and conquest minded one at that, has made Khazki more openly hostile towards Altmer on principle.

Resentment towards bosmer: Centuries of border clashes between Elsweyr and Valenwood have left their mark where even as former allies there was never any love lost between the Khajiit and the Bosmer. Seeing Bosmer as cannibalistic weirdos that rather butcher children than eat a corn cob have made them somewhat loathsome in her eyes.

Spell list:

Adept: Waterbreathing, Ironflesh, Ash Shell, Detect Life, Candlelight, Magelight, Lighten Load (Feather)
Apprentice: Fast Healing, Healing Hands, Steadfast Ward, Ease Burden (Feather)

An excellent fighter and something of an exceptionally trained skirmisher, Khazki is a fairly disciplined if unorthodox fighter who doesn’t believe in fair fights. Using even her alteration spells as weapons, the Khajiit seeks to create an opening by distracting or disabling an opponent and taking advantage with her massive greatsword, which offers an excellent reach unmatched by all but polearms. She is very aware of her surroundings and will use the terrain to her advantage, open putting things between her and her adversary to force them to work around it, taking the fight to somewhere with poor footing or ledges, and so on. She doesn’t shy away from brutality and dismemberment, and the psychological effects of that along with the Khajiits’ innate Eye of Fear give her a psychological edge on many opponents. She is capable of fighting multiple foes, and she is often able to close the gap between herself and mages with ward spells. For archers, she tries to keep terrain between herself and the archer, and will often seek to disengage to either escape or lure the archer into a situation of her choosing. Any hits that she is unable to parry are often absorbed by her armour, and simple healing spells can often limp her through a fight if need be.

Khazki can move with deceptive speed thanks to her Feather spells, which ultimately negate the weight of her weapon and armour, giving her reflexes and agility almost similar to someone wearing light armour. Using Ash Shell, she is capable of disabling limbs or weapons and creating an opening she can exploit, often fatally. Magelight is also used as a blinding weapon, often aimed for the face while she rushes in behind it. Khazki prefers to keep on the offense and not give her foes a change to get their footing.

S’Riraya (Khajiit, Cathay): Step-mother, estranged
Ra’Nair (Khajiit, Cathay): ep-father, estranged
Dar’Nara (Khajiit, unknown): Biological father, missing
J’Tagah (Khajiit, Alfiq): Half-Brother, estranged
J’Zaddi (Khajiit, Ohmes): Half-Brother, estranged
Dra’Sasheira (Khajiit, Ohmes-Raht): Friend and mentor, magic studies
Ra’Rasargo (Khajiit, Suthay-Raht): Friend and mentor, swordsmaster; Surrogate father figure

(For group members; fill after IC introduction)

Khazki is a survivalist at her core. She thinks nothing of spending extended times in the wilderness surviving off the land and she has an excellent instinct for trapping. As such, she can dress and skin an animal about as casually as a housewife can knit a scarf. She also enjoys the perks of her race, including Eye of Fear, Night Eye, and a deadly set of claws. She is also something of an amateur cartographer and she can reliably draw up a map of places she’s recently been, she has an excellent sense of special awareness and a memory for detail.

Worth noting, Khazki is unlike many other Khajiit in that she speaks using personal pronouns verses a third-person manner of speech. This more conventional manner of speech may suggest she has distanced herself from her culture and spiritual beliefs in order to assimilate into other cultures more readily.

20 Septims

A single key for her master’s dojo

Whetstone & oil, polishing cloth
Tinderbox
Snare wires
A jar of fire salts

Standard Nordic armour (non-Skaal)
Leather jerkin
Miner clothing
Dunmer outfit
Red scarf
Travel cloak

Skyforge Steel Greatsword
Orcish dagger

2x potion of cure disease
3x stamina potions
2x magica potions

Other than her sword and what coin she carries, nothing.

1x smoked hare
A bushel of snow berries
1x venison flank
2x water skin
1x wine skin
Bag of bait

Netch leather rucksack
Leather utility belt with 5 pouches of various sizes

Bed roll
Tarp
4 thin ropes