Greenie

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

Insight

A Green Storm Production

---

18th Sun’s Height, afternoon

It was hard to keep a smile off her face. So far, Megana had been having a rather lovely day. Breakfasting with an old friend, chatting with a new one- what could be better than that? She didn’t think anything, not while she felt so elated. She knew things still had a long way to go before finally returning to what was normal- the holes left by their missing friends could be felt no matter how anyone tried to disguise it or just plain ignore it. However, she knew she had to keep thinking positively, keep seeing what good was still there. Besides… she was still here, and it would take a mammoth dragging her away to keep her from her friends.

Weaving through the tents, her mind busy with thoughts of her companions as well as wondering whether she should eat something now or perhaps later as she was still not completely hungry, the Nord woman nearly missed seeing the Dunmer sitting by a tent, eating something. The only reason Meg hadn’t missed her was due to the red hair that was so unfamiliar, reminding her less of roaring flames now and more of flickering embers.

“G’day!” she greeted, waving a hand as she made her way over. She hadn’t exactly had a chance to talk to Ivy last night, yet still found herself in awe- Meg wanted to know more about this strange, wonderful woman.

"Well hello!" Ivy replied with a smile, her chin pointed upwards as she gave a gentle wave of her hand - jewelry dancing around her slender wrist. "If it isn't Megana the Kind, I am honoured," she added, that same hand rolled in circles as she lowered her head in a graceful bow. "Come and sit! Share that good mood with me…"

"Oh, psh..." Meg couldn't help but chuckle, a hint of rose tinging her cheeks as she heard that epithet that seemed to have caught on among some of the others she had passed by today. It embarrassed her yet at the same time she couldn't help but feel a little proud of herself and the rest of their group- they had done deeds that people only sang of in songs or wrote tales about.

"Thankies, I shall!" Wiping at the heat on her face with the back of her hand, she settled down just a little away from Ivy, sitting cross legged. "It's uhm, it's good t'see you again. I'm guessin' you've been here long?"

The Dunmer's head tilted to the side and her crimson eyes narrowed. "You know… I don't really know exactly how long, a month at least," she chuckled, biting into a strawberry. "Let me think… Well when I arrived the Mage had fled and made way for the Shadow, and now we see in the stars the Apprentice… So yes, a month or so," she smiled, offering a strawberry to the young woman.

"When you live as many years as I have, time becomes… Well, you view it quite differently I suppose." Ivy said with an air of maturity, and yet her smile so full of youth and her eyes sparkled with zest. "Now, my dear darling Calen's song, from what I heard you have been travelling with them for some time, hmm?"

There was a look of extreme confusion that passes over Meg's face as she took the strawberry offered to her, mentally repeating what Ivy had said, or at least trying to while she took a bite of the small red fruit. "Ah!" she finally exclaimed once she had chewed and swallowed. "Now I know whatchu were talkin' about…" She paused in her words, wondering how old the Dunmer woman was. She knew Mer aged differently than men did, but was in by much?

"Oh yeah," she added, nodding as she finished off the rest of the strawberry, playing with the leaf she had plucked off the top. "I mean, it's been since..." She tried to remember the date, forehead scrunched in concentration before smoothing over as she waved it off. "... months, outside've Skyrim. Cyrodiil an' Hammerfell. A bunch've us met in the mountains, Skingrad… Gilane. An' now we're back home. Well, my home. Ah, well, home of the Nords I s'pose. I was born in Riverwood."

"Oh! I've been there a number of times. What a quaint place," Ivy said with a wide smile, thinking fondly of it. "I've heard a lot about Gilane. Well, from your friends… That you were there. You all seem to speak of it…" Ivy's eyes slowly until they were closed, and she took in a deep breath of the clear, Skyrim air. "And now you're home once more, what is next?"

"We do talk lots 'bout there, don' we?" Meg looked a little embarrassed. "Guess it's 'cause so much seemed t'have happened there.. life changin' really." She chewed momentarily on her lip before shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders. "I dunno... I mean I'm home but I can't just stay put, y'know? I promised I'd stay an' help my friends stop the Dwemer... so this is just really a small break before goin' off an' doing whatever we gotta do next."

“Ah!” Ivy replied with closed eyes, “and what is it you’d like to do Megana the Kind, while you’re here?” the Dunmer asked inquisitively, partly to make polite conversation, and an equal part of simple curiosity and a desire to continue learning about her new friends.

"I'm not too sure, t'be honest," Meg replied with a small shrug. Falkreath seemed like a haven among a nightmare, but was it really alright for her to stay here too long while they had a task at hand? The truth was that right now, with their group having lost three friends, it was hard to know what she had to do.

Well, we've only been here a li'l bit, no need t'get all up in arms 'bout' it.

"I think maybe I'm just gonna wander here an' there an' see what comes t'me," she finally replied, eyeing the Dunmer. "What 'bout you?" It wasn't too rare to see Dunmer in Skyrim, at least not for Meg who had met all sorts of people during her childhood, but she too was curious how and why Ivy had ended up here. "How’d you end up in Falkreath?"

“Just wander and see, huh?” Ivy asked, blinking in Meg’s direction. She brought her thumb to her lower lip and pressed at it. “Really… that’s how I found myself here! I just wandered and chased the stars. Truthfully I think I was sent here by someone, or something… I followed an idea, a dream…” Her eyes narrowed and looked like flickering embers. “But who can say for sure? All I know is I’m glad I did - because how else would I have gotten to meet Megana the Kind!” She grinned, taking another strawberry and eating it - stalk and all.

“I think that you’re very special Meg, never lose that which makes you, well, you!” Ivy added, giving the young Nord a cheerful smile.

“Oh… there ain’ nothin’ too special ‘bout me,” Meg hastily replied, feeling a little embarrassed at the compliment. “There’re other really nice folk around, an’ I probably wouldn’ be as I am now if it weren’ for them.” She smiled, though there was a hint of sadness there. “A couple of them aren’ here, an’ I dunno if I’m even going to see them again…” Her voice trailed as she continued to fiddle with the leaf from the strawberry top, turning it this way and that. “Brynja, Fjolte… they’re Nords like me. Brynja we lost in Gilane. Fjolte was gone when I got back with Zaveed.” She let out a big, loud sigh before attempting a proper smile. “But he’s with his family, an’ that’s a good thing, eh? I kinda hope I can find my family too, once all of this is done an’ over with.”

Ivy tilted her head at that, and placed a hand down on the grass beside her. “Your family? Well of course,” she blinked happily - trying to picture just where Meg came from, what kind of relatives she had. A big family, most likely. A big family indeed. Ivy blinked again, “how long has it been since you saw your family?”

“It’s been…” Meg rubbed the back of her head as she tried to think over that. “More than a few months for sure, feels like years though. I left ‘em before all this started, in Whiterun.” Her mouth pulled to the side in contemplation, wondering how they must be, but then she hastily forced herself to smile. She didn’t want to see dark and gloomy around this friendly woman. “My ma went off t’Sovngarde when I was a li’l kid, so I grew up with my Pa. We moved aroun’ some but ended up in Whiterun… I have a step-ma an’ a kid brother, Sylven.” She wondered if he grew at since she had seen him.

“Pa used t’be a soldier in the Imperial army b’fore he came over t’Skyrim an’ met Ma,” she continued. “I’m pretty damn sure they must’ve gotten outta Whiterun fine.” Stendarr, make my wish be true, please.

“Maybe they made it here!” Ivy suggested with a smile, leaning closer to Meg. “Lots of families fled and found themselves here…” her eyes narrowed and she glanced around, leaning closer still to whisper in Meg’s ear; “lots of cheeky children running around…” Then she giggled.

"You- you think?" Meg turned to look Ivy straight in the face, trying to find something that told her that maybe what she was saying was the absolute truth. "My brother, he's..." Meg's voice wavered to a stop, realizing that she honestly did not know much about her little brother. When she had gone on her own adventures, he had been a baby, barely able to sit by himself. Her infrequent visits home showed her a different sibling that the one she had seen previously.

"I hope he's one of those children," she admitted, eyes shifting away from the Dunmer's visage so that she was looking at the ground. "I know I should have the hope that they'd be aroun', it's just kinda scary t'think maybe it might not be like tha, y'know? Kinda buildin' up hope an' then havin' it not be true is kinda scary..." She felt sheepish even as she said it, shaking her head.. "I shouldn' be saying stuff like that..."

Sensing Meg’s upset, Ivy wrapped her arms around the young woman and gave her a comforting squeeze. “You can say whatever you like to me, if it’s in your heart you have to say it,” she smiled, pulling out of the hug to meet Meg’s eyes. “There’s all kinds of children, like I said… One in particular that I found once in my tent looking through my things!” she huffed, but with no ill-intent. “Cheeky of him, but I let him keep a bracelet or two,” she giggled again, her voice quieting to a hush.

“A lot of families camped over there-” Ivy said, pointing a long finger in the opposite direction, towards the other side of Falkreath. “Of course, some of them are in the inns too… But most over there,” Her ruby red eyes caught Meg’s again, and she gave the woman’s arm a nudge. “You should go, and if you’re scared then maybe take a friend.”

Green eyes following in the direction Ivy pointed, Meg took in a deep breath, held it in for a few seconds before slowly breathing out. She then nodded, allowing some confidence to creep within her, even if it was simply borrowed for the time being. The day had gone well, what with meeting Daro'Vasora and Do'Karth.

"You're right," she replied, smiling at Ivy- this time it was a natural one that wasn't partially forced or tinged with any other emotion. She reached out and took hold of Ivy's hand, squeezing it. "Thank you. I'mma do what you said." Letting go of the woman's hand, she got to her feet. She could do this, she owed her father that much.

Besides... "Vaba do'shurh do."

It is good to be brave.

The Elder Scrolls: Days of Night

17th Sun's Dawn
Daggerfall, High Rock

They were an odd pair to be sure. A Khajiit and a wolf, walking side by side as if it were the most natural thing in the world, ignoring the looks of surprise and even fear that were sent their way from those passing by or those who worked by the docks. For his part, the Khajiit man didn't seem too intimidating. Dressed in an unassuming plain brown shirt and a pair of dark trousers, it would have been quite possible to assume he was simply a sailor like many of the rest. An open and friendly look on his face, his ears twitched whilst stormy grey eyes swerved this way and that, not pausing for a moment as he allowed himself to take in the many sights on his way to the ship. It wasn't S'Kandar's first time on the cusp of a sea voyage, but it had been a while since he had actually traveled by sea.

As for the wolf, it would be her first journey on a seafaring vessel. Much like the Khajiit man, she too was in fact not too intimidating if one could get past the fact that she was not your average canine friend. Her fur was a mixture of grey and white with darker tones of brown and black. Her tail whipped in the air, tongue lolling as she too seemed to take in the sight, sounds and smells. S'Kandar had been a little worried than the unfamiliarity of the Daggerfall as well as the scent and sight of the waves may put off Jashi, but it seemed he had been wrong and she was as eager as he was to head on this journey.

"S'Kandar is very proud of you! To think this one was worried you would find this whole experience daunting and unpleasant. Jashi continues to surprise him." S'kandar gave the wolf a grin, reaching down to pet her head and scratch her ears, though the chance of that was stolen away by her affection as she licked at his hand, causing the Khajiit man to break into a laugh. "Yes, yes, this one loves you as well, though a wet hand may not be appealing to those who wish to shake S'Kandar's hand." He effectively ignored his own words however, kneeling down right in the middle of the pathway, scratching the scruff around her neck. "If you like it here, this one's certain you will enjoy Anvil as well."

The thought of that final destination calmed his grin into a smaller, almost somber smile, and S'Kandar finally rose to his feet once more. He gave his wolf companion one last pat on her head and started forward once more, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of... her. Two years may have passed since that day, and the pain may have soften to a manageable hurt, but it did not mean he could ever forget his mentor, his teacher. He needn't have to close his eyes to be able to recall how she looked, so much smaller than he was. Her eyes had always reminded him of the night sky, and her lips as soft as a rose petal, yet fierce when the time to fight dawned upon them. How often had he wished to press his lips against hers? How many times had he forced himself to keep his fingers away from the long, black hair that had flowed down her back like the rivers of Skyrim?

A shaky breath left his lips, and the Khajiit man came to a stop yet again, curling his right hand into a fist and pressing it against his forehead, grey eyes shut tightly, ears flattening to the side. His tail which had previously been swaying peacefully was now rather low and almost perfectly still.

S'Kandar must stop with these thoughts, he chastised himself. He will not fail again. Not ever.

He took a deep breath, allowing it to fill him, and then slowly breathed out, relaxing his shoulders as he did. A few calming breaths later, he lowered his head and opened his eyes at last. Almost immediately his eyes fell on Jashi, who was looking up at him in an almost concerned manner.

"This one apologizes," he mumbled, feeling a little guilty. "Don't worry, S'Kandar was just a little... caught in the past. He will be fine."

With that said, the Khajiit man forced himself to stand tall, pushing his shoulders back and lifting his head, focusing on the vessel only a few more paces away. Anvil was still days away, first they had the sea voyage to contend with; he couldn't help but wonder who else would be travelling with them. Hopefully people with pleasant dispositions. It would be a very long and tedious journey if they proved otherwise. S'Kandar didn't want to think the worst of people he hadn't even met yet, he was just being cautious.

Just be as friendly as this one is with most everyone, he thought to himself as he made his way up the gangplank, and all shall be fine. That formula had yet to fail.

Just as long as no one was rude to Jashi.

The Elder Scrolls: Days of Night

S'Kandar

Race: Khajiit
Age: 28
Birthsign: The Lover
Family Origins: Rimmen, Elsweyr

Appearance: Standing at 5'9 and weighing near 180 lbs, S'Kandar has a muscular figure, his body strong due to the lifestyle he has chosen to pursue. A Cathay Khajiit, he stands tall on both feet with a mer/man like body. The colour of his fur could be compared to the snowy skies of Skyrim, white and light grey mixing in with darker grey stripes that blend seamlessly with his light fur. Countless scars litter his body from various battles he has found himself in, as well as quite a few tavern brawls, the most obvious of which is a scar that travels from the middle of his forehead and down his right cheek.

Aside from this slight disfiguring, his face is quite charming. Sporting a strong jaw and broad muzzle, he portrays a cool confidence even if he may be feeling otherwise. For the most part his face is free from stripes or markings save for a couple of spots below his black lined grey eyes, and a few black stripes above said eyes. The latter melds into his smaller grey ears, both of which are pierced with two silver earrings in each. His light grey hair is shorn on the sides but kept longer on top, which he then braids and ties off at the end.

As for his clothes, S’Kandar enjoys dressing for mobility. On a casual day where he is simply relaxing, he will wear loose shirts or tunics along with comfortable trousers and a pair of sturdy yet well worn boots. When he is out and about hunting, however, he is much more cautious of his attire, donning a mixture of furs and leather armour. Refusing to wear a cloak unless it’s extremely cold and snowy, he does keep a scarf wrapped around his neck and shoulders beneath the armour, though whether it's actually there for warmth or sentimental feelings is something S’Kandar does not care to discuss.

Unlike Men or Mer races, his mood doesn't necessarily show all on his face. When he is excited, for example, his pupils will widen and there may be a twitch to his tail, ears standing upright and tall. On the other hand, when saddened or upset, his ears will fall sideways against his head and his tail will be quite still. A person simply has to be observant to see how S'Kandar is feeling, even if his words and otherwise strong posture may say otherwise.

It's very rare that S'Kandar is brought to the point of extreme anger, but when he is, it can be seen by even the dimwittiest of person. Ears flat against his skull, his eyes will narrow into slits, mouth pulled back as he bares his teeth in a snarl, tail lashing out behind him- the term 'beast race' would be quite apt at these moments.

Personality: From the outset, S'Kandar is a man who seems to imbue warmth and charm. As a traveler his entire life, he had learned that people are more given to persuasion when treated with friendliness and respect, and so he inculcated that in his being until it became second nature to him. Almost always sporting a smile and keeping his tone casual, knowing when to add in a little charm and flattery to get the results he wishes- some would call this cunning and crafty, but S'Kandar truly enjoyed being able to make people smile when they were around him, and to have them leave completely satisfied once they left with whatever they purchased. Even if he hasn't been in the trading business for years, the same formula works for him.

That being said, he carries an invisible weight upon his shoulders and a burden in his heart. The tragedies he had faced in his life left their marks, and his feelings at leaving his siblings by themselves as well as causing his teacher's demise has caused him to constantly shoulder guilt, and this comes into play many times throughout his life. For the most part, he finds it hard to turn away from somebody in need and will try to help them out. He has a very strict code of not leaving anyone behind when working with others, and he can be quite passionate about these sentiments if someone were to argue otherwise. While he normally tries to keep his cool, abandoning people in need or ridiculing them is something that will upset him and cause his temper to rise.

Like most people are familiar with, S'Kandar has the usual khajiiti habit of referring to himself in third person. For a brief period in his life when he left his siblings, he had attempted to try and change this habit and tried to speak more like those around him, afraid of being seen as the odd one out. However, seeing it was much too ingrained in him as well as Afshan telling him it was silly to change something that needn't be an issue, the Khajiit decided to let it go. In fact, he now sees his way of speech as honouring his parents and his heritage in general. He is proud to be a Khajiit and sees his traveling and keeping the world safe as a way to show more close minded folk that Khajiit are not all the sneaky thieves they assume them to be.

In general, S’Kandar is people’s person and enjoys spending time socializing, conversing and sharing experiences, listening to their stories and tales from their past. Though he likes to talk, a lot of this time is also spent watching and listening to people, studying their tells and what makes them tick. That is, until he is distracted by a pretty face. Once upon a time S’Kandar’s weakness had been drinking, but as he tries to control the amount of alcohol he consumes, he found the fairer sex can be quite a pleasant distraction that does not amount to waking up with a hangover. Yet despite these many interactions, the Khajiit has not been able to make any long term friends or any sort of romantic relationship. Any time he finds himself growing close to a person, he reminds himself of his past failures and forces himself to step back. At these times, S’Kandar ends up secluding himself, and this occasionally causes slip ups where he may drink a little too much, leading to bouts of self loathing and need for temporary seclusion.

As such, the only witness to his different moods is his faithful companion, Jashi. S’Kandar treats her more like a friend than a pet and is quite protective of her, to the point that he will personally stay outside in the rain with his canine friend rather than inside without her. He knows people may find this odd or even obsessive, but he is unable to tolerate seeing her in any distress that could have been averted.

In the end, S’Kandar is a troubled man who would love nothing more than to hide the pain inside him and instead make sure the rest of the world needs not suffer as he did.

---

History: Though S’Kandar was born in Rimmen, Elsweyr, he does not actually recall much about his place of birth. Having been born into the Baandari clan, his parents were vagabond traders who spent their lives on the roads with their caravan, buying and trading goods as they travelled through Tamriel. S’Kandar was the first of three siblings, a younger brother and sister, both of who were born in Cyrodiil. His childhood was as normal as any wayfarer’s could be- he was exposed to many different people, creatures, climates and weathers from a young age, and the thought of settling down in one place seemed odd to him even as a child. How could he, when there was just so much to see?

It was at age sixteen when tragedy struck. S’Kandar and his family had been through High Rock once before and after a long and fruitful voyage through Hammerfell, with many many wares to sell, they had decided to try their luck once more with the Breton folk. For the most part the journey passed quite smoothly and most lucrative. Being attacked by a group of vampires had been the least of their expectations. His parents fell quickly after attempting to defend the rest of the caravan, and it was only sheer that a group of hunters came upon their location and killed their attackers. S’Kandar and his siblings suffered only some scratches and bruises, but those little grievances were nothing compared to the grief of losing their parents.

The group of hunters were ready to leave but one kind hearted huntress, a young Redguard woman named Afshan, felt rather empathetic towards the young Khajiit siblings and balked at the idea of leaving them by themselves. Despite the protests from her companions, she refused to go anywhere unless the three came along so that she could at least leave them somewhere safe and sound. After a couple of days travel, they reached the Wayrest, where S'Kandar and his siblings were to stay at an orphanage. However, the young Khajiit did not wish to stay stagnant- he had seen Afshan fight against the vampires and he wanted to learn as well. Part of the reason was some sense of revenge he wished to deliver on rotten beings who ruined innocent people's lives, but the other reason was because he truly wanted to become stronger. Afshan was hesitant at first, but remembering that she too had begun her life in adventurous much the same way, she decided to give the Khajiit boy a chance.

He was a quick learner, taking to both the sword and the bow, though he preferred archery to swordsmanship. S’Kandar found himself enjoying the hunting life- he was already used to travelling, gathering provisions and staying up to watch out for intruders late at night, but this was something new and thrilling, and it was enough to quell his grief over his parents as well as the guilt of leaving his siblings, though he knew they were taken care of. Charming ladies he met across Tamriel and experimenting with skooma as well as alcohol further alleviated any remaining feelings that may have hindered. Afshan was not too pleased with this development in her student and was rather strict about making sure he did not consume any intoxicants when they were on a mission.

S’Kandar in turn respected her, though that respect developed into romantic feelings that he tried to keep contained to himself. One night, however, after drinking a little too much, the Khajiit approached his teacher and confessed his love for her. Unwilling to give him any reply when he was in such a state, Afshan left the building, leaving S’Kandar to take her silence as rejection, thereafter drinking himself into a stupor. It was only after he woke up in the morning that he realized Afshan had left for the mission on her own. Suffering from a hangover, he managed to follow after her, hoping to catch her before she could reach the location on their agenda: a coven of witches and hagravens. Alas, he was too late- by the time he reached, she had already passed away from her wounds after killing off their marks.

This was probably the darkest period in S’Kandar’s life, worse than even when his caravan had been ambushed, as in his opinion he had been responsible for this folly. With no aim or purpose in mind, the Khajiit spent many months wandering through the mountains of Skyrim, killing what he needed to survive and nothing more. There were many times he wished to simply end his life, but he found himself too much of a coward- he wanted to live, but he didn’t know for what.

The balm of his soul came in an unusual fashion. As he was searching for his next meal, S’Kandar came across a dying wolf and her pup. It seemed she had gotten caught in a trap and had been unable to free herself. After mercifully ending her life, he found himself unable to simply walk away while knowing the pup would not be able to survive on its own. In a way, it reminded him of himself and Afshan, and how she had refused to leave him and his siblings behind.

Naming the young cub Jashi after a word in Ta'agra, S'Kandar treated her as if she was not simply a pet, but as if she were a member of his family. While he was still looking for a greater purpose to his life, he could now live day by day and simply care for his little companion, feeling satisfaction and happiness that someone was benifitting from his presence. Every wag of her tail and lick to his face caused a little of the grief he carried to lighten, even if it was just for a moment. He found himself overly protective of his wolf friend, making sure no harm came to her. In the same way, Jashi looked up to S'Kandar with utmost devotion, following him eagerly wherever he went. Though she was generally mild in temperament, she saw him as the 'Alpha' of their pack and in turn was protective of him as well. Alert and vigilant, she grew into a trustworthy companion who not only helped keep watch for intruders, but aided him against sour sorts.

Jashi

No longer alone and with a partner who not only held her own but brightened his perspective on life once again, S'Kandar once more took on the helm of a hunter who sought to help protect the people of Tamriel.

Biggest Regret: S'Kandar cannot forgive himself for not keeping his feelings in check and confessing to his teacher, thereafter getting drunk, and subsequently not being there to help Afshan in her time of need against the coven of witches that eventually lead to her death.

S'Kandar's Goal: To redeem himself is probably the number one priority and reason to strive on S'Kandar's mind and in his heart. He wishes to become a hero, a saviour, somebody who can be relied on- no longer the man who failed his teacher.

---

Skills:
Expert

• Archery - By dedicated practice and honing his archery, along with his naturally good eyesight to pinpoint targets, S’Kandar has grown incredibly proficient with his bow, rarely missing a target.

Adept

• Sneak - Naturally a light stepping fellow, S’Kandar has furthered this skill out of necessity so that the targets he is after won't immediately hear him approaching.
• One hand (Sword) - Though melee combat isn't his preferred way of hunting his enemies and targets, S'Kandar knew full well that there would be times when he wouldn't be able to rely on his bow. Not one who liked to learn something in an ad hoc fashion, he took great pains in learning how to wield a sword and is quite proficient in using it on someone.

Novice

• Provisioning - From a young age, S'Kandar had learned to hunt and gather food for himself and his family as well as a keen sense of where to find fresh water. For the most part, he is confident he can help keep his companions happy and fed.
• Athletics - S'Kandar's active lifestyle has made him quite strong physically. He can walk long distances for hours as is the norm for any Baandari, and his arms and back are used to lifting and carrying heavy objects. The various climates he has lived in has made him rather adaptable to trying weather patterns.

Equipment:

• A short bow and quiver with 10 arrows
• A sheathed short sword to the left of waist
• A sheathed dagger to the right
• A couple of health potions in a pouch tied at his belt
• A mix of leather and fur armour

Misc. Possessions:

• A backpack stuffed with an extra pair of clothing, a small thin blanket, spices to cook with, some dried meats, and a small pouch of moon sugar.
• A water skin filled with water
• A water skin filled with ale
• A money pouch tied discreetly under his belt, containing 20 septims
• A red scarf he keeps loosely wrapped around his neck
• A bracelet made of blue painted beads, a keepsake from his sister when he had left with Afshan.

The Elder Scrolls: Days of Night

@Stormflyx

Edited the appearance section and the history for Jashi ^^

S'Kandar

Race: Khajiit
Age: 28
Birthsign: The Lover
Family Origins: Rimmen, Elsweyr

Appearance: Standing at 5'9 and weighing near 180 lbs, S'Kandar has a muscular figure, his body strong due to the lifestyle he has chosen to pursue. A Cathay Khajiit, he stands tall on both feet with a mer/man like body. The colour of his fur could be compared to the snowy skies of Skyrim, white and light grey mixing in with darker grey stripes that blend seamlessly with his light fur. Countless scars litter his body from various battles he has found himself in, as well as quite a few tavern brawls, the most obvious of which is a scar that travels from the middle of his forehead and down his right cheek.

Aside from this slight disfiguring, his face is quite charming. Sporting a strong jaw and broad muzzle, he portrays a cool confidence even if he may be feeling otherwise. For the most part his face is free from stripes or markings save for a couple of spots below his black lined grey eyes, and a few black stripes above said eyes. The latter melds into his smaller grey ears, both of which are pierced with two silver earrings in each. His light grey hair is shorn on the sides but kept longer on top, which he then braids and ties off at the end.

As for his clothes, S’Kandar enjoys dressing for mobility. On a casual day where he is simply relaxing, he will wear loose shirts or tunics along with comfortable trousers and a pair of sturdy yet well worn boots. When he is out and about hunting, however, he is much more cautious of his attire, donning a mixture of furs and leather armour. Refusing to wear a cloak unless it’s extremely cold and snowy, he does keep a scarf wrapped around his neck and shoulders beneath the armour, though whether it's actually there for warmth or sentimental feelings is something S’Kandar does not care to discuss.

Unlike Men or Mer races, his mood doesn't necessarily show all on his face. When he is excited, for example, his pupils will widen and there may be a twitch to his tail, ears standing upright and tall. On the other hand, when saddened or upset, his ears will fall sideways against his head and his tail will be quite still. A person simply has to be observant to see how S'Kandar is feeling, even if his words and otherwise strong posture may say otherwise.

It's very rare that S'Kandar is brought to the point of extreme anger, but when he is, it can be seen by even the dimwittiest of person. Ears flat against his skull, his eyes will narrow into slits, mouth pulled back as he bares his teeth in a snarl, tail lashing out behind him- the term 'beast race' would be quite apt at these moments.

Personality: From the outset, S'Kandar is a man who seems to imbue warmth and charm. As a traveler his entire life, he had learned that people are more given to persuasion when treated with friendliness and respect, and so he inculcated that in his being until it became second nature to him. Almost always sporting a smile and keeping his tone casual, knowing when to add in a little charm and flattery to get the results he wishes- some would call this cunning and crafty, but S'Kandar truly enjoyed being able to make people smile when they were around him, and to have them leave completely satisfied once they left with whatever they purchased. Even if he hasn't been in the trading business for years, the same formula works for him.

That being said, he carries an invisible weight upon his shoulders and a burden in his heart. The tragedies he had faced in his life left their marks, and his feelings at leaving his siblings by themselves as well as causing his teacher's demise has caused him to constantly shoulder guilt, and this comes into play many times throughout his life. For the most part, he finds it hard to turn away from somebody in need and will try to help them out. He has a very strict code of not leaving anyone behind when working with others, and he can be quite passionate about these sentiments if someone were to argue otherwise. While he normally tries to keep his cool, abandoning people in need or ridiculing them is something that will upset him and cause his temper to rise.

Like most people are familiar with, S'Kandar has the usual khajiiti habit of referring to himself in third person. For a brief period in his life when he left his siblings, he had attempted to try and change this habit and tried to speak more like those around him, afraid of being seen as the odd one out. However, seeing it was much too ingrained in him as well as Afshan telling him it was silly to change something that needn't be an issue, the Khajiit decided to let it go. In fact, he now sees his way of speech as honouring his parents and his heritage in general. He is proud to be a Khajiit and sees his traveling and keeping the world safe as a way to show more close minded folk that Khajiit are not all the sneaky thieves they assume them to be.

In general, S’Kandar is people’s person and enjoys spending time socializing, conversing and sharing experiences, listening to their stories and tales from their past. Though he likes to talk, a lot of this time is also spent watching and listening to people, studying their tells and what makes them tick. That is, until he is distracted by a pretty face. Once upon a time S’Kandar’s weakness had been drinking, but as he tries to control the amount of alcohol he consumes, he found the fairer sex can be quite a pleasant distraction that does not amount to waking up with a hangover. Yet despite these many interactions, the Khajiit has not been able to make any long term friends or any sort of romantic relationship. Any time he finds himself growing close to a person, he reminds himself of his past failures and forces himself to step back. At these times, S’Kandar ends up secluding himself, and this occasionally causes slip ups where he may drink a little too much, leading to bouts of self loathing and need for temporary seclusion.

As such, the only witness to his different moods is his faithful companion, Jashi. S’Kandar treats her more like a friend than a pet and is quite protective of her, to the point that he will personally stay outside in the rain with his canine friend rather than inside without her. He knows people may find this odd or even obsessive, but he is unable to tolerate seeing her in any distress that could have been averted.

In the end, S’Kandar is a troubled man who would love nothing more than to hide the pain inside him and instead make sure the rest of the world needs not suffer as he did.

---

History: Though S’Kandar was born in Rimmen, Elsweyr, he does not actually recall much about his place of birth. Having been born into the Baandari clan, his parents were vagabond traders who spent their lives on the roads with their caravan, buying and trading goods as they travelled through Tamriel. S’Kandar was the first of three siblings, a younger brother and sister, both of who were born in Cyrodiil. His childhood was as normal as any wayfarer’s could be- he was exposed to many different people, creatures, climates and weathers from a young age, and the thought of settling down in one place seemed odd to him even as a child. How could he, when there was just so much to see?

It was at age sixteen when tragedy struck. S’Kandar and his family had been through High Rock once before and after a long and fruitful voyage through Hammerfell, with many many wares to sell, they had decided to try their luck once more with the Breton folk. For the most part the journey passed quite smoothly and most lucrative. Being attacked by a group of vampires had been the least of their expectations. His parents fell quickly after attempting to defend the rest of the caravan, and it was only sheer that a group of hunters came upon their location and killed their attackers. S’Kandar and his siblings suffered only some scratches and bruises, but those little grievances were nothing compared to the grief of losing their parents.

The group of hunters were ready to leave but one kind hearted huntress, a young Redguard woman named Afshan, felt rather empathetic towards the young Khajiit siblings and balked at the idea of leaving them by themselves. Despite the protests from her companions, she refused to go anywhere unless the three came along so that she could at least leave them somewhere safe and sound. After a couple of days travel, they reached the Wayrest, where S'Kandar and his siblings were to stay at an orphanage. However, the young Khajiit did not wish to stay stagnant- he had seen Afshan fight against the vampires and he wanted to learn as well. Part of the reason was some sense of revenge he wished to deliver on rotten beings who ruined innocent people's lives, but the other reason was because he truly wanted to become stronger. Afshan was hesitant at first, but remembering that she too had begun her life in adventurous much the same way, she decided to give the Khajiit boy a chance.

He was a quick learner, taking to both the sword and the bow, though he preferred archery to swordsmanship. S’Kandar found himself enjoying the hunting life- he was already used to travelling, gathering provisions and staying up to watch out for intruders late at night, but this was something new and thrilling, and it was enough to quell his grief over his parents as well as the guilt of leaving his siblings, though he knew they were taken care of. Charming ladies he met across Tamriel and experimenting with skooma as well as alcohol further alleviated any remaining feelings that may have hindered. Afshan was not too pleased with this development in her student and was rather strict about making sure he did not consume any intoxicants when they were on a mission.

S’Kandar in turn respected her, though that respect developed into romantic feelings that he tried to keep contained to himself. One night, however, after drinking a little too much, the Khajiit approached his teacher and confessed his love for her. Unwilling to give him any reply when he was in such a state, Afshan left the building, leaving S’Kandar to take her silence as rejection, thereafter drinking himself into a stupor. It was only after he woke up in the morning that he realized Afshan had left for the mission on her own. Suffering from a hangover, he managed to follow after her, hoping to catch her before she could reach the location on their agenda: a coven of witches and hagravens. Alas, he was too late- by the time he reached, she had already passed away from her wounds after killing off their marks.

This was probably the darkest period in S’Kandar’s life, worse than even when his caravan had been ambushed, as in his opinion he had been responsible for this folly. With no aim or purpose in mind, the Khajiit spent many months wandering through the mountains of Skyrim, killing what he needed to survive and nothing more. There were many times he wished to simply end his life, but he found himself too much of a coward- he wanted to live, but he didn’t know for what.

The balm of his soul came in an unusual fashion. As he was searching for his next meal, S’Kandar came across a dying wolf and her pup. It seemed she had gotten caught in a trap and had been unable to free herself. After mercifully ending her life, he found himself unable to simply walk away while knowing the pup would not be able to survive on its own. In a way, it reminded him of himself and Afshan, and how she had refused to leave him and his siblings behind.

Naming the young cub Jashi after a word in Ta'agra, S'Kandar treated her as if she was not simply a pet, but as if she were a member of his family. While he was still looking for a greater purpose to his life, he could now live day by day and simply care for his little companion, feeling satisfaction and happiness that someone was benifitting from his presence. Every wag of her tail and lick to his face caused a little of the grief he carried to lighten, even if it was just for a moment. He found himself overly protective of his wolf friend, making sure no harm came to her. In the same way, Jashi looked up to S'Kandar with utmost devotion, following him eagerly wherever he went. Though she was generally mild in temperament, she saw him as the 'Alpha' of their pack and in turn was protective of him as well. Alert and vigilant, she grew into a trustworthy companion who not only helped keep watch for intruders, but aided him against sour sorts.

Jashi

No longer alone and with a partner who not only held her own but brightened his perspective on life once again, S'Kandar once more took on the helm of a hunter who sought to help protect the people of Tamriel.

Biggest Regret: S'Kandar cannot forgive himself for not keeping his feelings in check and confessing to his teacher, thereafter getting drunk, and subsequently not being there to help Afshan in her time of need against the coven of witches that eventually lead to her death.

S'Kandar's Goal: To redeem himself is probably the number one priority and reason to strive on S'Kandar's mind and in his heart. He wishes to become a hero, a saviour, somebody who can be relied on- no longer the man who failed his teacher.

---

Skills:
Expert

• Archery - By dedicated practice and honing his archery, along with his naturally good eyesight to pinpoint targets, S’Kandar has grown incredibly proficient with his bow, rarely missing a target.

Adept

• Sneak - Naturally a light stepping fellow, S’Kandar has furthered this skill out of necessity so that the targets he is after won't immediately hear him approaching.
• One hand (Sword) - Though melee combat isn't his preferred way of hunting his enemies and targets, S'Kandar knew full well that there would be times when he wouldn't be able to rely on his bow. Not one who liked to learn something in an ad hoc fashion, he took great pains in learning how to wield a sword and is quite proficient in using it on someone.

Novice

• Provisioning - From a young age, S'Kandar had learned to hunt and gather food for himself and his family as well as a keen sense of where to find fresh water. For the most part, he is confident he can help keep his companions happy and fed.
• Athletics - S'Kandar's active lifestyle has made him quite strong physically. He can walk long distances for hours as is the norm for any Baandari, and his arms and back are used to lifting and carrying heavy objects. The various climates he has lived in has made him rather adaptable to trying weather patterns.

Equipment:

• A short bow and quiver with 10 arrows
• A sheathed short sword to the left of waist
• A sheathed dagger to the right
• A couple of health potions in a pouch tied at his belt
• A mix of leather and fur armour

Misc. Possessions:

• A backpack stuffed with an extra pair of clothing, a small thin blanket, spices to cook with, some dried meats, and a small pouch of moon sugar.
• A water skin filled with water
• A water skin filled with ale
• A money pouch tied discreetly under his belt, containing 20 septims
• A red scarf he keeps loosely wrapped around his neck
• A bracelet made of blue painted beads, a keepsake from his sister when he had left with Afshan.

The Elder Scrolls: Days of Night

Here's my sheet ^_^

S'Kandar

Race: Khajiit
Age: 28
Birthsign: The Lover
Family Origins: Rimmen, Elsweyr

Appearance: Standing at 5'9 and weighing near 180 lbs, S'Kandar has a muscular figure, his body strong due to the lifestyle he has chosen to pursue. A Cathay Khajiit, he stands tall on both feet with a mer/man like body. The colour of his fur could be compared to the snowy skies of Skyrim, white and light grey mixing in with darker grey stripes that blend seamlessly with his light fur. Countless scars litter his body from various battles he has found himself in, as well as quite a few tavern brawls, the most obvious of which is a scar that travels from the middle of his forehead and down his right cheek.

Aside from this slight disfiguring, his face is quite charming. Sporting a strong jaw and broad muzzle, he portrays a cool confidence even if he may be feeling otherwise. For the most part his face is free from stripes or markings save for a couple of spots below his black lined grey eyes, and a few black stripes above said eyes. The latter melds into his smaller grey ears, both of which are pierced with two silver earrings in each. His light grey hair is shorn on the sides but kept longer on top, which he then braids and ties off at the end.

As for his clothes, S’Kandar enjoys dressing for mobility. On a casual day where he is simply relaxing, he will wear loose shirts or tunics along with comfortable trousers and a pair of sturdy yet well worn boots. When he is out and about hunting, however, he is much more cautious of his attire, donning a mixture of furs and leather armour. Refusing to wear a cloak unless it’s extremely cold and snowy, he does keep a scarf wrapped around his neck and shoulders beneath the armour, though whether it's actually there for warmth or sentimental feelings is something S’Kandar does not care to discuss.

Personality: From the outset, S'Kandar is a man who seems to imbue warmth and charm. As a traveler his entire life, he had learned that people are more given to persuasion when treated with friendliness and respect, and so he inculcated that in his being until it became second nature to him. Almost always sporting a smile and keeping his tone casual, knowing when to add in a little charm and flattery to get the results he wishes- some would call this cunning and crafty, but S'Kandar truly enjoyed being able to make people smile when they were around him, and to have them leave completely satisfied once they left with whatever they purchased. Even if he hasn't been in the trading business for years, the same formula works for him.

That being said, he carries an invisible weight upon his shoulders and a burden in his heart. The tragedies he had faced in his life left their marks, and his feelings at leaving his siblings by themselves as well as causing his teacher's demise has caused him to constantly shoulder guilt, and this comes into play many times throughout his life. For the most part, he finds it hard to turn away from somebody in need and will try to help them out. He has a very strict code of not leaving anyone behind when working with others, and he can be quite passionate about these sentiments if someone were to argue otherwise. While he normally tries to keep his cool, abandoning people in need or ridiculing them is something that will upset him and cause his temper to rise.

Like most people are familiar with, S'Kandar has the usual khajiiti habit of referring to himself in third person. For a brief period in his life when he left his siblings, he had attempted to try and change this habit and tried to speak more like those around him, afraid of being seen as the odd one out. However, seeing it was much too ingrained in him as well as Afshan telling him it was silly to change something that needn't be an issue, the Khajiit decided to let it go. In fact, he now sees his way of speech as honouring his parents and his heritage in general. He is proud to be a Khajiit and sees his traveling and keeping the world safe as a way to show more close minded folk that Khajiit are not all the sneaky thieves they assume them to be.

In general, S’Kandar is people’s person and enjoys spending time socializing, conversing and sharing experiences, listening to their stories and tales from their past. Though he likes to talk, a lot of this time is also spent watching and listening to people, studying their tells and what makes them tick. That is, until he is distracted by a pretty face. Once upon a time S’Kandar’s weakness had been drinking, but as he tries to control the amount of alcohol he consumes, he found the fairer sex can be quite a pleasant distraction that does not amount to waking up with a hangover. Yet despite these many interactions, the Khajiit has not been able to make any long term friends or any sort of romantic relationship. Any time he finds himself growing close to a person, he reminds himself of his past failures and forces himself to step back. At these times, S’Kandar ends up secluding himself, and this occasionally causes slip ups where he may drink a little too much, leading to bouts of self loathing and need for temporary seclusion.

As such, the only witness to his different moods is his faithful companion, Jashi. S’Kandar treats her more like a friend than a pet and is quite protective of her, to the point that he will personally stay outside in the rain with his canine friend rather than inside without her. He knows people may find this odd or even obsessive, but he is unable to tolerate seeing her in any distress that could have been averted.

In the end, S’Kandar is a troubled man who would love nothing more than to hide the pain inside him and instead make sure the rest of the world needs not suffer as he did.

---

History: Though S’Kandar was born in Rimmen, Elsweyr, he does not actually recall much about his place of birth. Having been born into the Baandari clan, his parents were vagabond traders who spent their lives on the roads with their caravan, buying and trading goods as they travelled through Tamriel. S’Kandar was the first of three siblings, a younger brother and sister, both of who were born in Cyrodiil. His childhood was as normal as any wayfarer’s could be- he was exposed to many different people, creatures, climates and weathers from a young age, and the thought of settling down in one place seemed odd to him even as a child. How could he, when there was just so much to see?

It was at age sixteen when tragedy struck. S’Kandar and his family had been through High Rock once before and after a long and fruitful voyage through Hammerfell, with many many wares to sell, they had decided to try their luck once more with the Breton folk. For the most part the journey passed quite smoothly and most lucrative. Being attacked by a group of vampires had been the least of their expectations. His parents fell quickly after attempting to defend the rest of the caravan, and it was only sheer that a group of hunters came upon their location and killed their attackers. S’Kandar and his siblings suffered only some scratches and bruises, but those little grievances were nothing compared to the grief of losing their parents.

The group of hunters were ready to leave but one kind hearted huntress, a young Redguard woman named Afshan, felt rather empathetic towards the young Khajiit siblings and balked at the idea of leaving them by themselves. Despite the protests from her companions, she refused to go anywhere unless the three came along so that she could at least leave them somewhere safe and sound. After a couple of days travel, they reached the Wayrest, where S'Kandar and his siblings were to stay at an orphanage. However, the young Khajiit did not wish to stay stagnant- he had seen Afshan fight against the vampires and he wanted to learn as well. Part of the reason was some sense of revenge he wished to deliver on rotten beings who ruined innocent people's lives, but the other reason was because he truly wanted to become stronger. Afshan was hesitant at first, but remembering that she too had begun her life in adventurous much the same way, she decided to give the Khajiit boy a chance.

He was a quick learner, taking to both the sword and the bow, though he preferred archery to swordsmanship. S’Kandar found himself enjoying the hunting life- he was already used to travelling, gathering provisions and staying up to watch out for intruders late at night, but this was something new and thrilling, and it was enough to quell his grief over his parents as well as the guilt of leaving his siblings, though he knew they were taken care of. Charming ladies he met across Tamriel and experimenting with skooma as well as alcohol further alleviated any remaining feelings that may have hindered. Afshan was not too pleased with this development in her student and was rather strict about making sure he did not consume any intoxicants when they were on a mission.

S’Kandar in turn respected her, though that respect developed into romantic feelings that he tried to keep contained to himself. One night, however, after drinking a little too much, the Khajiit approached his teacher and confessed his love for her. Unwilling to give him any reply when he was in such a state, Afshan left the building, leaving S’Kandar to take her silence as rejection, thereafter drinking himself into a stupor. It was only after he woke up in the morning that he realized Afshan had left for the mission on her own. Suffering from a hangover, he managed to follow after her, hoping to catch her before she could reach the location on their agenda: a coven of witches and hagravens. Alas, he was too late- by the time he reached, she had already passed away from her wounds after killing off their marks.

This was probably the darkest period in S’Kandar’s life, worse than even when his caravan had been ambushed, as in his opinion he had been responsible for this folly. With no aim or purpose in mind, the Khajiit spent many months wandering through the mountains of Skyrim, killing what he needed to survive and nothing more. There were many times he wished to simply end his life, but he found himself too much of a coward- he wanted to live, but he didn’t know for what.

The balm of his soul came in an unusual fashion. As he was searching for his next meal, S’Kandar came across a dying wolf and her pup. It seemed she had gotten caught in a trap and had been unable to free herself. After mercifully ending her life, he found himself unable to simply walk away while knowing the pup would not be able to survive on its own. In a way, it reminded him of himself and Afshan, and how she had refused to leave him and his siblings behind. He named the young wolf Jashi and from then onward treated her like family.

Biggest Regret: S'Kandar cannot forgive himself for not keeping his feelings in check and confessing to his teacher, thereafter getting drunk, and subsequently not being there to help Afshan in her time of need against the coven of witches that eventually lead to her death.

S'Kandar's Goal: To redeem himself is probably the number one priority and reason to strive on S'Kandar's mind and in his heart. He wishes to become a hero, a saviour, somebody who can be relied on- no longer the man who failed his teacher.

---

Skills:
Expert

• Archery - By dedicated practice and honing his archery, along with his naturally good eyesight to pinpoint targets, S’Kandar has grown incredibly proficient with his bow, rarely missing a target.

Adept

• Sneak - Naturally a light stepping fellow, S’Kandar has furthered this skill out of necessity so that the targets he is after won't immediately hear him approaching.
• One hand (Sword) - Though melee combat isn't his preferred way of hunting his enemies and targets, S'Kandar knew full well that there would be times when he wouldn't be able to rely on his bow. Not one who liked to learn something in an ad hoc fashion, he took great pains in learning how to wield a sword and is quite proficient in using it on someone.

Novice

• Provisioning - From a young age, S'Kandar had learned to hunt and gather food for himself and his family as well as a keen sense of where to find fresh water. For the most part, he is confident he can help keep his companions happy and fed.
• Athletics - S'Kandar's active lifestyle has made him quite strong physically. He can walk long distances for hours as is the norm for any Baandari, and his arms and back are used to lifting and carrying heavy objects. The various climates he has lived in has made him rather adaptable to trying weather patterns.

Equipment:

• A short bow and quiver with 10 arrows
• A sheathed short sword to the left of waist
• A sheathed dagger to the right
• A couple of health potions in a pouch tied at his belt
• A mix of leather and fur armour

Misc. Possessions:

• A backpack stuffed with an extra pair of clothing, a small thin blanket, spices to cook with, some dried meats, and a small pouch of moon sugar.
• A water skin filled with water
• A water skin filled with ale
• A money pouch tied discreetly under his belt, containing 20 septims
• A red scarf he keeps loosely wrapped around his neck
• A bracelet made of blue painted beads, a keepsake from his sister when he had left with Afshan.

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

Shedding Scars

Dervs and Greenie

---

17th Sun’s Height, night

The sounds of happiness and joviality may have been dimmed once Sirine had stepped outside of Dead Man's Drink, but it was still enough for Sirine to make her way behind the building, not caring that the night's air brought a chill that she wasn't used to. Wrapping her cloak around herself tightly, the Imperial Redguard sat herself down on the smaller back porch, knees pulled up under her chin to preserve the warmth she'd gathered from indoors. She stared out in the darkness, being able to make out silhouettes of trees in the distance, beyond which she was told lay a rather auspicious and revered cemetery. Common sense told her it would make much more sense to head back in rather than stare out at more or less nothingness, or seek the comfort of anywhere that had four walls and protected her from the elements. Her heart was stubborn though and she wanted to feel the wind in her hair.

Since when had she become so sentimental? Broody perhaps, but this was different. She had felt a sort of relief when they had reached Falkreath after the second day of travel; seeing the look on Daro'Vasora's face when she discovered her sister was alive and well had reminded Sirine of herself when she had found Bakih and rescued him from the filthy dwemer necromancer. She had been genuinely happy for her companions, despite knowing there was still some sort of invisible barrier between her and them. However, all that positiveness was tinged without knowing where Zaveed and Meg were, or if they were even alive.

A lump in her throat, Sirine reached out and gripped the bottle she had brought with her, taking a swig of the diluted alcohol within. There was no happy feeling from it, and a small voice in her head asked why she even bothered, but she squashed that thought immediately. She couldn't lose her wits here, not when she was alone all over again. Sighing softly, she set the bottle to the side and pressed her face against the arm that was now resting upon her knees. Here she was, former captain of a pirate ship, a killer and a thief, acting like a heartbroken girl. And yet she didn't feel any shame from it, only regret that she hadn't told him how she felt days before the group was attacked.

“Sirine?” Zaveed called out, walking around the building, eyes searching at a frantic pace. Sevari had told him that Sirine was fine and she was with them still, and that she had stepped outside not long before Zaveed had arrived with Megana. Excusing himself, he had hurried to find his lover, finding her at the dark end of the porch, away from prying eyes. He let out a sudden sigh of relief and headed towards her, suddenly dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around her. “I’ve bloody well missed you. What are you doing out here?” he asked, before chiding himself. “Are… are you doing okay? I am sorry I made you worry.”

If the sound of his voice hadn't jerked her out of her stupor, feeling the sudden warmth of the hug certainly did. Sirine was still for a second before lifting her head and looking at the man holding her. "Zaveed?" Her voice cracked, eyes welling up and freely dripping as she took in his sight. It was him, he was here, he was truly alive and well. "I was- I thought-" She didn't continue, turning instead and slipping her arms around his waist, holding him tightly. Her shoulders shook, unable to contain the welling emotion that burst out of her.

"I missed you too," she finally added when she was certain her voice wouldn't break again. "I was so... scared those centurions got you and Meg." She pulled one arm back, resting it against him so that she could touch the side of his face. He truly was there.

He shook his head, no. “We didn’t even know about all of that until Sevari just told us now. I am sorry I wasn’t there for you… something else got Megana and I.” he placed a hand over hers on his cheek, kissing her wrist.

“The forests around here are dangerous, it seems. There’s some kind of dwemer agents in the forests that have sleep poisons and camouflage that captured us. Their leader looked like a researcher… she took some of my blood and tissues.” Zaveed explained, a perturbed glint in his eyes. “Be sure to buy Megana a drink, will you? She’s the reason I’m here and not in Markarth.”

"Damn them," she muttered, her still wet eyes narrowing at the thought that the two had been manhandled in such a fashion. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, reminding herself that there was no need for immediate anger, not when they were alive and well. "I will, promise. I'm just glad neither of you were alone." There were so many questions afloat in her mind, but all of them weren't as pressing as Zaveed's presence.

"I never realized two days could feel like a decade," she said quietly, blinking away the remaining tears. "I was relieved when we finally reached this place, Falkreath, but now I'm truly at ease." Loosening her hold on him, she brought her other hand up to frame his face before leaning in, pressing her lips against his for a small moment. At last her smile seemed to have returned.

Zaveed wiped Sirine’s tears with his thumb. “I’m… sorry you felt that way. I’d been so busy trying to survive, and Megana and I had a lot of ground to cover. It was hard to think of much else, but I knew I’d see you before long. I am so sorry I made you worry, it was never my intention. I’m used to being on my own, I am still coming to terms that there’s someone who waits for me at the end of the day.” he admitted with a slight shake of his head. “You should know it’s going to take more than a few ill-tempered Dwarves to keep me from you.”

That brought out a hint of laughter from Sirine. "Yes, I probably should have known better." She looked down at her lap, contemplating for a second before looking up and speaking again. "You don't have to be sorry or apologize, Zaveed. Worry is just something that happens when you care about someone. I'm sure if I was missing, you would feel the same. I'm just happy we're both safe and sound and I get to see your handsome face again." Hoping to lighten the mood, she gave him a wink.

"Here, have something to drink... I'd say it's something of our tradition now, hm?" She reached out and took hold of the bottle, settling it on his lap in offering.

“Ah, you know me so well.” Zaveed grinned, taking the bottle gratefully, holding aloft in a cheers. He put the rim to his lips, not bothering to ask what it was going to be, and when the liquid hit his pallet, it was not exactly what he was expecting; it just tasted like slightly bitter and fruity water.

“Diluted?” he asked, perplexed. “I didn’t think Nords believed in such things…” he joked, before looking to Sirine curiously. “Is this a little quirk of yours I didn’t know about, or maybe you just wanted some water?”

"Ah, sorry," Sirine replied quickly, seeming a little sheepish. "I should have gotten you something from inside..." She paused at his question, biting down on her lip in an uncertain fashion, unsure of what to say.

"I don't normally drink," she finally admitted, eyeing Zaveed. "I like to keep my wits about me, but drinking only water doesn't make a good impression. At least that was what I felt when I first... well, started on the unsavoury path of piracy. Impressions are what take you far in the world- a girl who couldn't even handle a few drinks? Who would respect her?" A quick exhalation of breath, and she continued. "I couldn't drink though... not after what had happened. I just-" She forced herself to stop, shaking her her. "Sorry."

The Khajiit set the bottle down gently, pulling Sirine into himself. “There is nothing to be sorry for.” Zaveed replied gently. There was still so much they didn’t know about each other, the scars they carried with each of them. “When you’re ready to talk about it, I will be here for you. If you want, I’ll set the bottle down when you’re around. I don’t want you to feel pressured, or to feel you have to act around me. I helped you escape a terrible life, and I do not wish to make you feel as if you are marching steadily into another because I am too arrogant to listen.”

Sirine leaned against the khajiit, nodding slightly, allowing herself to feel comforted by the warmth he emitted. "You've done anything but," she replied, feeling a little composed after hearing his understanding words. "I don't want you to stop anything... I-" She looked up him and gave him a small smile. "I feel I can drink when you're there, because I trust you, Zaveed. I know you won't take advantage of me even if I'm inebriated and out of my senses." She hesitated slightly before strengthening her will, reminding herself that the man who held her had always been completely open about himself, the good and the bad. He deserved the same honesty from her.

"The last time I drank too much, I woke up with these scars, ripped clothes and in a lot of pain." She lifted her hands, and though she couldn't clearly see the dark marks around her wrists, she was quite sure Zaveed could. "Things had been steadily... going from bad to worse for me and Bakih after my older brothers betrayed us and ruined any attempt at the two of us getting back on our feet, but being... taken by those pigs broke me." She herself was amazed at how calm she sounded as she told him her darkest secret. Perhaps it was the relief of finally telling someone? She didn't know. "I thought that man in the tavern was offering me a chance to work on his ship, but clearly I had been wrong. I'd decided from that day onward that the world was a bitter place that only took from me, so I would take back what I could."

“Bastards.” Zaveed’s teeth grit together, knowing all too well the invasive and haunting experience Sirine was speaking of firsthand. He saw her scars, and now he knew the story, they took on an entirely new meaning. “Had I known you then, I would have stopped at nothing until every single bastard had paid with blood for what they had done… I would have staked them down at low tide and let the sea decide their fate.” he growled, intaking a heavy sigh before composing himself somewhat. She didn’t need vengeance; it was too late for that. She needed comfort and support, to know that she would never suffer like that again.

“Nobody broke you, Sirine. Look at how proudly you stand now, how willing you were to act when the opportunity presented itself.” He took her gently by the head and brought their brows together. “You risked everything to save Bakih, knowing how much danger it would present to you, and you didn’t question it. You chose to trust me and help me when you had no reason to believe I was going to honour you; those aren’t the actions of a broken or weak woman, they’re those of the woman I feel can help me find a better tomorrow and does not balk at the things I have done.”

He kissed her brow, smiling. “Damaged does not mean broken.” he said again.

Sirine let out a soft chuckle, closing her eyes and nodding. "Those words are magic to my ears," she admitted. "Perhaps I'm just turning into a sentimental softhearted lass?" It was a joke, but she truly appreciated his support, and with his knowing that part of her past, she felt as if yet another invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

Threading an arm around his waist once more, Sirine reached under her cloak with her free hand to pull the septim from underneath so that it lay above the dark material, glinting in the dim light provided from a dying lantern by the door. "This was enough for me to realize you weren't like the many others." Her mouth curved upward into a soft grin as she gently nudged him with her head, thereafter nestling under his chin with a content sigh, enjoying the sound of each heartbeat, the feel of every breath he took. It was such a contrast from the hard pirate most people saw on a daily basis, but the truth was she was not that person when Zaveed was there- she was simply Sirine. "I am wholly happy you took my spot that day."

“No, you aren’t getting soft; I’m just sharpening a blade. Nothing soft about you.” Zaveed grinned, chuckling. “It was a rather clever spot for me to decide to die in, wasn’t it? I knew you’d find me, obviously. Captain Greywake always has an escape plan.” he teased, feeling lighter knowing both were safe and sound… and that Sirine had felt so strongly about his absence. It just affirmed that they were making the right choice.

"Ahh... so it was all planned then, was it? You were just waiting to woo me, were you?" Sirine smirked at him, reaching up with her finger to gently poke his nose with the tip. "You know, Sevari once mention something about me being swept off my feet but I quite like to think I'm doing the sweeping." She winked. "I had my nets all ready there to catch you." She chuckled as well, thinking of that fun filled night where she had managed to pull the brooding Ohmes-raht out of his chair to dance whilst Zaveed and Maj chatted away. It had been a fun and almost familiar experience.

"Did you ever think you would end up someplace like here, Zaveed?" she asked after a moment. "I certainly hadn't... I never even travelled that far into Hammerfell, truth be told. It’s a little funny, but I’m neither used to extreme heat or the extreme cold. I don’t think I want to be here where the snow begins to fall, no matter how much the Nords in our party seem at glee about it."

“Tell you, and ruin the air of mystery?” Zaveed grinned. “Perhaps you were the one with the plan all along, it’s always a pleasant change of pace when one is surprised for a change.”

He thought about her second prompt, shaking his head. “Goodness, no. The seas up here are filled with ice and biting cold, the food tastes like crap, and you have to wear entirely too many layers to be comfortable. This wasn’t a place I ever decided to come on my own volition, and hopefully when this is all said and done, hopefully the last. I’m quite fond of waters that are warm to the touch, that people would pay good sums of gold to visit. I’ve seen a good chunk of the world, I think I know where suits my tastes… somewhere where wine flows freely and the rains do not chill you to the bone.”

"It seems the mead's flowing freely today," Sirine pointed out, though it was with a nod and chuckle. "Warm waters, hm?" The chuckle quieted to a knowing smile. "That is something I can agree with- I expect the waters here are always cold to the touch whether it is winter or not. Not at all like the waters near Gilane or Anvil." She closed her eyes and her smile widened. "I can see it all here." She tapped the side of her head before continuing. "Golden white sands, blue green waters, white clouds in the sky."

Opening her eyes, Sirine reached out to take his hand in hers. "When this is all over, what do you say we sail that way? It would be nice to visit once more..." Who knew, perhaps her mother was still alive and residing in her Anvil home.

“I’ll admit to a certain fondness for the Gold Coast, and the Southern shores of Hammerfell.” Zaveed said, entwining his fingers around Sirine’s. “I think that sounds to be a lovely plan, Sirine. We’ll find somewhere quiet to let the war pass us by and listen to the songbirds and the waves kissing the shore. After all of this, I think I’d like to try a life that doesn’t involve fighting any longer. It’s time to give peace a chance.”

"You paint a pretty picture," Sirine replied, smiling as she looked at their hands together, feeling a warm glow within. "You mentioned the other night about finding that young boy inside? Well, maybe I can find that Sirine inside me as well. Maybe we can finally live a life we weren't forced into, but one we choose, one where we better ourselves and become..." She paused as she searched for the words. "Better versions us, or even the best if that’s possible." Her grip on his hand tightened a little as she lifted it and pressed a lingering kiss to his knuckles.

He raised her knuckles to his lips, offering the slightest impression of a kiss and an inviting smile, returning the gesture before kissing Sirine on the lips. “With you, my dear, anything is possible. First we need to earn that future, and then we do whatever it is our hearts tell us to do. But it’s cold out on this patio on our lonesome, why don’t we join in the festivities? The fire looks fine… and so does that dancer.” he said with a mischievous wink. “Think I could convince you to try something like that on?”

"For you, my dear, anything is possible." Sirine cheekily returned his words to him. "I'm unsure if I'm as flexible as she is, but perhaps that is simply something you can help me work on, hmm?" She raised an eyebrow at him, implications many before ending with a wink. "For now though, yes, the fire sounds good." Her eyes softened as she continued to gaze at him. "Perhaps we'll have a drink or two as well."

“One or two.” he agreed with a reassuring smile, standing up and offering a hand for her to get to her feet. “Come now, a party awaits, and personally I’d love to forget the feeling of being jabbed by pine needles every time I’ve gone to sleep for weeks for a few hours.”

"I trust my arms are a better alternative," Sirine replied with a chuckle as she allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Hugging his arm close to herself, she led the way back to the door. If he was there, there really was nothing for her to worry about.

The Elder Scrolls: Days of Night

*peeks*

What attracts you about an interest check?

Most definitely! I love my romance, reading and writing it, but it's never the main dish, it's like the fries to my RP burger. When I see a list of pairings, my mind automatically assumes that the author wishes romance to be the main plot point. Nothing wrong with that, but it's just not for me.

What attracts you about an interest check?

I'm not one who likes decoration- there is beauty in simplicity. That being said, I'm not really fond of bare minimum interest checks myself, and especially those that are bullet points which include pairings of this x that. That's actually my biggest turn off. Second to that would probably be when people wish to write with only a specific gender, like a male asking for a female- that honestly makes me very uncomfortable.

I like to see actual plots and ideas, and if those are barebone, I'm fine with that. I just wish to know that the person has put some effort and is not solely relying on me to come up with the story and eventually lead it.

After The End

Is there room for any more, or that's that?