Kazemitsu

Return of a Failed Generation

Not even a word when their mother died smh.

This second life reunion is gonna be awkward. Ophelia won't know rather to run up and hug her sisters and not let go or slap the both of them.

@Rune_Alchemist

I vote for slappage, forward and backward!

Return of a Failed Generation

I'm not done, is to keep safe from being logged out

I'm good looking I swear

Why do I hear Boss Music?

Kaesos Korga Kaides

Age: 18 [28] | Height: 6'2| Voice:Gravelly, Bass

First Life

blank

Equipment

• Cowled Plate Armor - A set of plate armor that looks like it has been several wars already but is kept clean and polished.
• Monstrous Scythe - An oversized scythe whose size and heft few can use skillfully and is made of several materials while having a smooth ruby deeply inset to prevent being scratched.

Abilities

• Physical Strength: Expert
• Aura: 2nd Rate
• Magic: 0th Circle
• Skills:
  
  • Skill/Spell Name - Skill/Spell Description
    • Sub-Sub-List for Upgrades.

Return of a Failed Generation: A Time Regression Power Fantasy

I'm in, gonna try n break the system :p

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

Kharne followed Kiffar, the Blades, and the Emperor but he kept a modest distance. Honestly he kept away from most everyone subconsciously, despite being currently unarmed he was used to having to measure his distance with people. Thankfully his distance got him to stay out of the cannon that was Kiffar's faces range when he sneezed. Granted soon enough their gear was finally brought and he locked onto his stuff immediately. His weapons were unique, aside from the dagger, and despite the amount of stuff he carried his pack was small. He made sure all of his things were present, namely his money. He had heard guards would help themselves if there was a significant amount after all. Or maybe that was just dark elf guards in Morrowind? Didn't matter he had all of his stuff and money.

He shifted and stretched, making sure his gear settled properly, before drawing the heavy cleaver-like weapon. "So, any idea how many people might know about this place...? Or blueprints for it?" He questioned, looking at the guards and the Emperor. It seemed he only had vague notions of the Emperor, and the man didn't seem to stand too much on ceremony. He leaned a little, looking to the Redguard-Altmer halfbreed, Khaliya, and the other Argonian, Veeza. "Think we'll actually get any fighting outside of vermin?" He questioned, his voice low. He wasn't always in the mood for a fight but he was feeling kind of antsy today. Probably because of all the secrecy and mystery.

He vaguely listened to another cluster of the group, the Bosmer questioning about livestock. Specifically a cow and how docile it was. He kind of wondered himself about how that came to be, same with how gaurs and silt striders became beasts of burden as well. What primitive person thought of stuff like this? Food for thought later.

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

Kharne's eues drifted to the Redguard womans hand when she offered it to him. His great mitt came up and grasped her forearm, those thick scaled fingers wrapped around the whole forelimb. "Good to meet you, Khaliya, Veeza." He rumbled before glancing to Yashar and Roshanarra, giving the pair of them a simple nod.His voice was deep, almost painfully so, but he had a quiet tone so his voice shouldn't carry well with the rest of the boisterous lot crowding the jail cell.

Veeza spoke a word that vaguely triggered a memory, clearly native language from Black Marsh. "I don't know the native tongue, I was taken very young." He replied to Veeza, who was apparently an arena fighter for a place named Kvatch. "I'm a mercenary and I was just exploring the city... He stated before they were all interrupted by heavily armored guards with slender curved swords. Katanas judging by the look, a delicate weapon he didn't care for. Apparently the Emperor has paid them all a visit! Celebrity recognition for brawling, huzzah.

But no, in reality they were not supposed to be in this jail cell, but given every cell was packed by the rioters there was no choice but to stuff them all in the sacred cell. Which turned out to have a secret passage for escaping. They were given the option of going up or going below. He thought to himself a moment before slapping his knees and standing up. "Off to adventure then. There might be a reward for assisting them." He mused as he stretched his arms over his head and then leaned back. He had been sitting long enough, and a couple others went into the tunnel in short order.

"You lot coming into the secret escape route? He questioned, amused by the fact the tunnel was even there. Without really waiting for an answer he lumbered along into the dark behind the others who went ahead. From what had been said it sounded like it was more hectic up top. He wasn't one to shy away from a fight but he was unarmed, who knew where his stuff was, and most people tended to use actual swords versus a sharpened wedge of steel and punching only worked so well. Tunnel was potentially safer to deal with. Potentially.

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

Kharne

---

Kharne was seated next to a rather animated Redguard woman who was trying to pester him about his travels alongside the other Argonian on the other side of her. A young man talked about cards or dice, probably confiscated if anyone had them. He didn't speak yet, too busy thinking about how he even got in this situation while his arms were crossed over his chest. He had been drinking at a tavern, or inn, he didn't really know the difference between them, and he had been bumped. Which normally wouldn't have bothered him, alcohol and people equaled rowdiness. But the bumper had been a Dunmer, a very drunk Dunmer who had said things he shouldn't have. And then vomited on his feet which got even more ire from Kharne.

Needless to say it's hard to recognize who the man was now, even magic couldn't fix that much damage and get it back to normal. The only thing that saved the drunk from dying was the guards already dealing with riots and were already in the area. So now Kharne got to sit in jail, a very packed jail. A small packed jail cell with a female Dunmer who had that holier than thou look. Kharne's eyes were practically glowing with hatred for her and he knew nothing about the woman while his hands clenched on his biceps. But guilty by association rules the reptilian mans mind.

A different small cluster of people were talking about using shit water, which dragged his eyes over and away from the Dunmer woman. A young man in fancier garb than the rest of them was bickering about tea, a strange drink. Soggy leaves staining water brown that was so mildly sweet it didn't matter. Events didn't stop there, a big Khajiit broke out of the cell across from them, spoke to the guards, and was escorted into their jam packed cell. The guards acted like it was just another normal day. Big fluff introduced himself as Kiffar before he was verbally assaulted by a Bosmer.

All the noise was starting to overstimulate the normally quiet and reclusive Argonian. Oh by the gods now an older looking woman was talking to the fancy lad and she talked weird! Kiffar was quick to go hunting for a seat, given that size anyone would move. Or suffer death by crushing fluff possibly."Welcome to this side of the corridor, Kiffar. I'm Kharne." He rumbled, his voice surprisingly deep for his species. His voice was low, rumbling like thunder overhead, and held a slight rasp Argonians were known for. His eyes cut to the woman seated next to himself. "And you?" He questioned so he wasn't entirely rude.

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

Kharne

-Basic Information

Name: Kharne

Age: 23

Race: Argonian

Appearance:


Kharne is a rather tall Argonian, taller than any other he had ever met. Maybe he lacked the beaten down slouch his people had outside of Black Marsh? Specific numbers have him at six feet and three inches tall and weighing in at two hundred and forty-six pounds. He lacks the typical head ornamentation of Argonians, instead he has large and strong scales going along his head and down his neck. His scales are a mottled mix of gray, dusky green, and black that blends together, perfect for blending in with swamps. Except his 'underbelly' which is a dark dark cream color. His reptilian eyes, which are normally narrowed with suspicion, are a dark orange red. His size has little fat, a life of labor and fighting doesn't allow such a thing, and the vast majority of it is dense muscle. His tail is much like an alligators, thick with muscle, tough scales and scutes, and being broad enough to be used as a bludgeon. His claws and teeth are like aged ivory, pointed, and sharp, the ones on his feet are significantly larger than his hands.

Personality:

Kharne has a rough history which has fed his mentality. He is almost always suspicious of people who are not Khajiit, Argonian, or Orc. He's especially distrustful of the Dunmer for all that they had done to him and his people. Given his distrustful nature he is secretive of any plans he has. Aside from that he can be....amicable at best, he does know how to deal with people and act the part. Being a suspicious jackass does not bring in the septims after all. Unfortunately even if he is coaxed into relaxing somewhat he's still tense and gruff, always keeping one eye out. The only exceptions to this attitude is around fellow Beastmen and the Orcs, the others ostracized and mistreated by society of Men and Mer alike. Although if anyone pays attention, few do, they'll see he enjoys carving little things of wood and that he seems to really like fighting. A final notice, if he is actually set off with anger he's a lot more bestial than is typically seen outside of Black Marsh and is quite a bit stronger.

-Abilities

Skills:

• Martial Mastery: He loves fighting. He loves training. He enjoys the physicality of it all and that helps keep him alive another day. Hand to hand he is self taught, fighting more like an animal than a humanoid. His pole-arm and cleaver he had more formal training from fellow mercenaries. He is by no means a master, but due to the unconventionality of his weapons and skill, he is better than most he has met.
• Little Armorer: He has learned over the years to take care of his own equipment for the most part, and if he's feeling nice other peoples equipment. He can repair his leather equipment and do the maintenance for the metal portions. Meaning he can polish the metal portions of his gear to prevent rust and bluntness while also making sure his leather equipment doesn't get dry and cracked into uselessness. Rudimentary knowledge in comparison to an actual metal and leather worker.
• People Skills: Despite being an Argonian he is decent when dealing with people who aren't Dunmer. One has to learn how to when you work as a mercenary so you can get better deals. Or when you're dealing with merchants selling long forgotten treasures or just the pelts of bears and wolves. He is able to roughly read the faces and body language of most of the races of Tamriel, the only ones that are difficult to are the orcs and the Khajiit.
• Skulduggery: Given his profession he has had to sneak past enemies, guards, whoever and has had to pick the locks of long forgotten chests or doors. He is no thief breaking the law, but these are useful skills for exploring ruins and enemy camps. Most of this is self-taught but he has come across others who were better than himself and got brief training.
• Survivalist: Completely self taught, through lots of trial and error, he has figured out how to survive out in the wilderness in Cyrodiil. Luckily because of his biology much of his failures were not light threatening, just hours in a bush, or figuring out green wood burns terribly and smokey. His knowledge of plants is based solely around fungus, everything else has gone untouched.

Magic:

• Restoration: Novice level with minimal knowledge. Can cast Heal Minor Wounds to heal himself or allies.
• Destruction: Novice level with minimal knowledge. Can cast Snowball and Flare.

Magic is not his forte and never will be, but he has enough knowledge to keep himself alive...if barely.

-Equipment

(Depending on their physical ability your character can only carry a certain amount of gear on their person. This includes bags, pouches, sacks and other containers. Heavy armor is heavy, and light armor is light. Take that into account when equipping your character. Arrows additionally have weight and are not infinite. This category is intended to stand on its own and is broken down into three sections, the latter two of which are optional. )

Personal Items:

• Studded Cuirass: A thick leather vest dotted with iron studs. The leather is well worn and well cared for, the black dye is faded to a smokey gray. There are thick stitches here and there from past battles.
• Chain-mail Vambraces: Well worn and well cared for vambraces made of chain with small plates linked along the forearms and one plate on the back of each of his hands that has a leather strip go around his palm. The worn metal is dulled with time despite the care and the leather is partially frayed.
• Leather Greaves: Simple well worn and well cared for leather greaves. The black dye, like his vest, has faded to a smokey gray color. Also like his vest there are numerous stitched lines from past battles.
• Leather Footings: Simple brown leather custom designed for his feet. There's no sole to these bindings, the leather goes from the tops of his feet to his knees and has thin and worn steel plates on the top of his foot and his on his shin. The leather is a deep brown, the color of dark mud, and look new.
• Clothing: Basic cotton shirt that is slightly loose and an extremely pale cream color. His pants, beneath his greaves, are a light gray and barely visible. The belt around his waist is leather with iron medallions every few inches and has empty spaces for his sheathes.

The Lock Box:

• Septims: 326
• Long Axe: A strangely designed weapon. The steel head of the axe is drawn out, making it from edge to spiked tip three feet long. The actual edge of the weapon is eight inches, the secondary edge along the whole underside of the head is sharpened to the grade of a sword. The haft of the weapon is seven feet long and made of a tough hard wood. About two feet from the head of the axe is a slightly narrowed grip guarded by a smaller curved steel blade.
• Cleaver: A three foot long single edged straight blade made of steel with a spike on the spine. The blade is roughly three four inches wide and a quarter inch thick with a curved ebony wood handle. The pommel and the near non-existent cross-guard are both made of blackened steel.
• Iron Dagger: A simple cheap and well used iron dagger that's used more as a multi-tool instead of an actual weapon.
• Pack: A typical pack full of various pieces of gear for travel and camp. Small tent, pitons, length of rope, bedroll, flint and steel, dry tinder, lock-picks, etc, etc.

Stored Items:

• Nothing

Background:
Kharne had been young when he had been stolen from Black Marsh by the Dunmer in one of their typical raids. From there he was taken back to the Dunmer homeland of Morrowind, a harsh and ruthless land. The air felt worse than his homeland, dry and gritty with the flying ash and sand once the coast was left behind. He was used from a young age to run errands, being quite the speedy little hatchling given he was born under the Thief Sign. (Not as good as The Steed Speed but close!). That was his purpose to start with, to bring messages between whatever house he was owned by at that time. They all looked the same to him, Dunmer, Dunmer, Dunmer.

As he got older, and bigger, his 'jobs' changed from messenger to laborer. Moving luggage and goods around the capitol of Morrowind, At least he thought it was the capitol given the size of the place, Vivec. While he was worked with little rest he got to witness the trainers situated throughout the capitol train other people. Granted it was hard to learn that way since he couldn't just sit and listen or watch. He always had to be doing something otherwise he was punished by the lash or a beating. Slaves didn't get to learn after all except the tasks given to them. Which was never how to defend yourself.

It had been roughly ten years since he had been stolen and shackled. Having grown increasingly restless and agitated he eventually killed his handler who arrogantly thought he was a weak and cowed teenager. With rage fueled adrenaline combined with a laborers might, he tore the Dunmer slaver into pieces, used the key he had to unlock his shackles, and fled north west with what little he could steal off the body and his surroundings. He avoided the roads, preferring the wilderness to avoid as many people as he could. Thankfully his scales coloration blended in quite well in the Ascadian Isles portion of Morrowind.

While he moved through the wilderness, hunting the creatures of the island for food, he practiced what he remembered from observing the trainers. Discovering, with his wooden implements, that he was decent with a pole-arm and his fists. Although using his claws felt far more natural. While he wandered the wilderness, learning how to Argonian, he fought many of the local fauna of Morrowind, and ate them too. Granted everything he met wasn't an animal, he ran across people as well. Namely bandits, runaway slaves, slavers, and just travelers.

Bandits were interacted with since he had nothing to steal, he learned some combat from them in exchange for his help with dumb labor. Runaway slaves, which always seemed to be fellow Argonians and Khajiit, were released from their shackles by using lock-picks. A handy skill to have learned from the Khajiit, at least well enough for rudimentary locks. Slavers were ambushed and killed if there weren't many of them. Namely stalking them at day and going in at night to rip out their throats. His meeting of travelers gave him some insight of Morrowind and Tamriel as a whole, he had many questions. He was a young Argonian after all and the youth always had questions. Unless the travelers were Dunmer, he avoided the dark elves as much as he possibly could.

Unfortunately he became somewhat infamous in the area as numerous 'upstanding' workers went missing. He discovered that there were now small hunting parties to capture him. He had no choice but to flee the area, which led him to Seyda Neen. A small coastal village that seemed to be a drop off point for Imperial Prisoners. Thankfully a ship was in port dropping off a single prisoner, someone of human origin so he didn't care much. He quickly sold any goods he had, arms and armor, from deceased slavers. Mostly leather gear of varying grades with basic iron weapons like swords, daggers, and bows. With his pack lightened and his purse burdened he set about buying numerous weak fatigue potions, a waterproof sack, and dried foods.

If he was any other race he would not even think to attempt what he was going to do. Instead of going aboard, it was a prison transport ship after all, he clung to the hull of the barge like an oversized barnacle. That was where his potions came in handy, when he fatigued he drank them and ate small snacks. He was used to a lack of sleep so staying awake and subsisting on dried food and potions wasn't affecting him too badly. Granted by the time they reached harbor he was doing much worse, low on food, potions gone, body aching, bloodied from slaughter-fish, it was not an experience he wished to partake in a second time.

Not much changed once he reached the mainland, he learned what he could, traveled by foot, killed slavers and sold their kit for money, freed what slaves he found, and trained as he went. It took him some time, it was slow going, to reach Cyrodiil. He was a full adult by the time he reached the Imperial Province and he had learned much and earned much more. He had become a mercenary, taking whatever job he felt fit him or joining a crew for a short while. While in crews, without Dunmer, he learned more about how to fight which made him realize just how much of a brute he was. He had no real style, but he had power and grace which is why he now wields the weapons he does and the armor he wore allowed him the greatest motion.

With his knowledge fairly set, his ways seemed to work despite his disposition, and he had joined the Fighters Guild to earn extra cash on the side and get training whenever he needed it wherever a guild may be, he moved to the Imperial City. He had heard tales of the place but word of mouth never matched actually seeing it. A massive sprawling circle of a city that seemed to have everything if one had the cash for it.

His ambling bumpkin self wound up in the Arena District of the capitol, a district full of normal people and rougher types like himself. He decided to watch the fights, just to see how it worked, and the result was a bit of a let down. A brick, who the hell threw a damn brick?, decided it all instead of skill and the two combatants clashing. He wasn't all riled up like the citizens though, he didn't even know who was fighting!

But he did decide to go the a tavern to put his feet up, he had been traveling for a long time after all. Unfortunately a rumpus erupted and it absorbed pretty much everyone in the common room. Including Kharne who had been crashed into by a Dunmer man, which set off the Argonians harsh temper towards the Dunmer race. Being rougher than most earned him jail time without a chance of paying off a fine. Now he stewed in a cell, angry and frustrated but gradually working himself down.

Ambition: Kharne has a very simple, albeit lofty, ambition. He is working to become stronger, earn lots of money, and free any Argonian slave he finds. Sometimes Khajiit as well. Either by force or by currency, depends on the other person. He plans to go back to Morrowind, the worst culprits of it in his eyes to free them all.

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

Kharne

-Basic Information

Name: Kharne

Age: 23

Race: Argonian

Appearance:


Kharne is a rather tall Argonian, taller than any other he had ever met. Maybe he lacked the beaten down slouch his people had outside of Black Marsh? Specific numbers have him at six feet and three inches tall and weighing in at two hundred and forty-six pounds. He lacks the typical head ornamentation of Argonians, instead he has large and strong scales going along his head and down his neck. His scales are a mottled mix of gray, dusky green, and black that blends together, perfect for blending in with swamps. Except his 'underbelly' which is a dark dark cream color. His reptilian eyes, which are normally narrowed with suspicion, are a dark orange red. His size has little fat, a life of labor and fighting doesn't allow such a thing, and the vast majority of it is dense muscle. His tail is much like an alligators, thick with muscle, tough scales and scutes, and being broad enough to be used as a bludgeon. His claws and teeth are like aged ivory, pointed, and sharp, the ones on his feet are significantly larger than his hands.

Personality:

Kharne has a rough history which has fed his mentality. He is almost always suspicious of people who are not Khajiit, Argonian, or Orc. He's especially distrustful of the Dunmer for all that they had done to him and his people. Given his distrustful nature he is secretive of any plans he has. Aside from that he can be....amicable at best, he does know how to deal with people and act the part. Being a suspicious jackass does not bring in the septims after all. Unfortunately even if he is coaxed into relaxing somewhat he's still tense and gruff, always keeping one eye out. The only exceptions to this attitude is around fellow Beastmen and the Orcs, the others ostracized and mistreated by society of Men and Mer alike. Although if anyone pays attention, few do, they'll see he enjoys carving little things of wood and that he seems to really like fighting. A final notice, if he is actually set off with anger he's a lot more bestial than is typically seen outside of Black Marsh and is quite a bit stronger.

-Abilities

Skills:

• Martial Mastery: He loves fighting. He loves training. He enjoys the physicality of it all and that helps keep him alive another day. Hand to hand he is self taught, fighting more like an animal than a humanoid. His pole-arm and cleaver he had more formal training from fellow mercenaries. He is by no means a master, but due to the unconventionality of his weapons and skill, he is better than most he has met.
• Little Armorer: He has learned over the years to take care of his own equipment for the most part, and if he's feeling nice other peoples equipment. He can repair his leather equipment and do the maintenance for the metal portions. Meaning he can polish the metal portions of his gear to prevent rust and bluntness while also making sure his leather equipment doesn't get dry and cracked into uselessness. Rudimentary knowledge in comparison to an actual metal and leather worker.
• People Skills: Despite being an Argonian he is decent when dealing with people who aren't Dunmer. One has to learn how to when you work as a mercenary so you can get better deals. Or when you're dealing with merchants selling long forgotten treasures or just the pelts of bears and wolves. He is able to roughly read the faces and body language of most of the races of Tamriel, the only ones that are difficult to are the orcs and the Khajiit.
• Skulduggery: Given his profession he has had to sneak past enemies, guards, whoever and has had to pick the locks of long forgotten chests or doors. He is no thief breaking the law, but these are useful skills for exploring ruins and enemy camps. Most of this is self-taught but he has come across others who were better than himself and got brief training.
• Survivalist: Completely self taught, through lots of trial and error, he has figured out how to survive out in the wilderness in Cyrodiil. Luckily because of his biology much of his failures were not light threatening, just hours in a bush, or figuring out green wood burns terribly and smokey. His knowledge of plants is based solely around fungus, everything else has gone untouched.

Magic:

• Restoration: Novice level with minimal knowledge. Can cast Heal Minor Wounds to heal himself or allies.
• Destruction: Novice level with minimal knowledge. Can cast Snowball and Flare.

Magic is not his forte and never will be, but he has enough knowledge to keep himself alive...if barely.

-Equipment

(Depending on their physical ability your character can only carry a certain amount of gear on their person. This includes bags, pouches, sacks and other containers. Heavy armor is heavy, and light armor is light. Take that into account when equipping your character. Arrows additionally have weight and are not infinite. This category is intended to stand on its own and is broken down into three sections, the latter two of which are optional. )

Personal Items:

• Studded Cuirass: A thick leather vest dotted with iron studs. The leather is well worn and well cared for, the black dye is faded to a smokey gray. There are thick stitches here and there from past battles.
• Chain-mail Vambraces: Well worn and well cared for vambraces made of chain with small plates linked along the forearms and one plate on the back of each of his hands that has a leather strip go around his palm. The worn metal is dulled with time despite the care and the leather is partially frayed.
• Leather Greaves: Simple well worn and well cared for leather greaves. The black dye, like his vest, has faded to a smokey gray color. Also like his vest there are numerous stitched lines from past battles.
• Leather Footings: Simple brown leather custom designed for his feet. There's no sole to these bindings, the leather goes from the tops of his feet to his knees and has thin and worn steel plates on the top of his foot and his on his shin. The leather is a deep brown, the color of dark mud, and look new.
• Clothing: Basic cotton shirt that is slightly loose and an extremely pale cream color. His pants, beneath his greaves, are a light gray and barely visible. The belt around his waist is leather with iron medallions every few inches and has empty spaces for his sheathes.

The Lock Box:

• Septims: 326
• Long Axe: A strangely designed weapon. The steel head of the axe is drawn out, making it from edge to spiked tip three feet long. The actual edge of the weapon is eight inches, the secondary edge along the whole underside of the head is sharpened to the grade of a sword. The haft of the weapon is seven feet long and made of a tough hard wood. About two feet from the head of the axe is a slightly narrowed grip guarded by a smaller curved steel blade.
• Cleaver: A three foot long single edged straight blade made of steel with a spike on the spine. The blade is roughly three four inches wide and a quarter inch thick with a curved ebony wood handle. The pommel and the near non-existent cross-guard are both made of blackened steel.
• Iron Dagger: A simple cheap and well used iron dagger that's used more as a multi-tool instead of an actual weapon.
• Pack: A typical pack full of various pieces of gear for travel and camp. Small tent, pitons, length of rope, bedroll, flint and steel, dry tinder, lock-picks, etc, etc.

Stored Items:

• Nothing

Background:
Kharne had been young when he had been stolen from Black Marsh by the Dunmer in one of their typical raids. From there he was taken back to the Dunmer homeland of Morrowind, a harsh and ruthless land. The air felt worse than his homeland, dry and gritty with the flying ash and sand once the coast was left behind. He was used from a young age to run errands, being quite the speedy little hatchling given he was born under the Thief Sign. (Not as good as The Steed Speed but close!). That was his purpose to start with, to bring messages between whatever house he was owned by at that time. They all looked the same to him, Dunmer, Dunmer, Dunmer.

As he got older, and bigger, his 'jobs' changed from messenger to laborer. Moving luggage and goods around the capitol of Morrowind, At least he thought it was the capitol given the size of the place, Vivec. While he was worked with little rest he got to witness the trainers situated throughout the capitol train other people. Granted it was hard to learn that way since he couldn't just sit and listen or watch. He always had to be doing something otherwise he was punished by the lash or a beating. Slaves didn't get to learn after all except the tasks given to them. Which was never how to defend yourself.

It had been roughly ten years since he had been stolen and shackled. Having grown increasingly restless and agitated he eventually killed his handler who arrogantly thought he was a weak and cowed teenager. With rage fueled adrenaline combined with a laborers might, he tore the Dunmer slaver into pieces, used the key he had to unlock his shackles, and fled north west with what little he could steal off the body and his surroundings. He avoided the roads, preferring the wilderness to avoid as many people as he could. Thankfully his scales coloration blended in quite well in the Ascadian Isles portion of Morrowind.

While he moved through the wilderness, hunting the creatures of the island for food, he practiced what he remembered from observing the trainers. Discovering, with his wooden implements, that he was decent with a pole-arm and his fists. Although using his claws felt far more natural. While he wandered the wilderness, learning how to Argonian, he fought many of the local fauna of Morrowind, and ate them too. Granted everything he met wasn't an animal, he ran across people as well. Namely bandits, runaway slaves, slavers, and just travelers.

Bandits were interacted with since he had nothing to steal, he learned some combat from them in exchange for his help with dumb labor. Runaway slaves, which always seemed to be fellow Argonians and Khajiit, were released from their shackles by using lock-picks. A handy skill to have learned from the Khajiit, at least well enough for rudimentary locks. Slavers were ambushed and killed if there weren't many of them. Namely stalking them at day and going in at night to rip out their throats. His meeting of travelers gave him some insight of Morrowind and Tamriel as a whole, he had many questions. He was a young Argonian after all and the youth always had questions. Unless the travelers were Dunmer, he avoided the dark elves as much as he possibly could.

Unfortunately he became somewhat infamous in the area as numerous 'upstanding' workers went missing. He discovered that there were now small hunting parties to capture him. He had no choice but to flee the area, which led him to Seyda Neen. A small coastal village that seemed to be a drop off point for Imperial Prisoners. Thankfully a ship was in port dropping off a single prisoner, someone of human origin so he didn't care much. He quickly sold any goods he had, arms and armor, from deceased slavers. Mostly leather gear of varying grades with basic iron weapons like swords, daggers, and bows. With his pack lightened and his purse burdened he set about buying numerous weak fatigue potions, a waterproof sack, and dried foods.

If he was any other race he would not even think to attempt what he was going to do. Instead of going aboard, it was a prison transport ship after all, he clung to the hull of the barge like an oversized barnacle. That was where his potions came in handy, when he fatigued he drank them and ate small snacks. He was used to a lack of sleep so staying awake and subsisting on dried food and potions wasn't affecting him too badly. Granted by the time they reached harbor he was doing much worse, low on food, potions gone, body aching, bloodied from slaughter-fish, it was not an experience he wished to partake in a second time.

Not much changed once he reached the mainland, he learned what he could, traveled by foot, killed slavers and sold their kit for money, freed what slaves he found, and trained as he went. It took him some time, it was slow going, to reach Cyrodiil. He was a full adult by the time he reached the Imperial Province and he had learned much and earned much more. He had become a mercenary, taking whatever job he felt fit him or joining a crew for a short while. While in crews, without Dunmer, he learned more about how to fight which made him realize just how much of a brute he was. He had no real style, but he had power and grace which is why he now wields the weapons he does and the armor he wore allowed him the greatest motion.

With his knowledge fairly set, his ways seemed to work despite his disposition, and he had joined the Fighters Guild to earn extra cash on the side and get training whenever he needed it wherever a guild may be, he moved to the Imperial City. He had heard tales of the place but word of mouth never matched actually seeing it. A massive sprawling circle of a city that seemed to have everything if one had the cash for it.

His ambling bumpkin self wound up in the Arena District of the capitol, a district full of normal people and rougher types like himself. He decided to watch the fights, just to see how it worked, and the result was a bit of a let down. A brick, who the hell threw a damn brick?, decided it all instead of skill and the two combatants clashing. He wasn't all riled up like the citizens though, he didn't even know who was fighting!

But he did decide to go the a tavern to put his feet up, he had been traveling for a long time after all. Unfortunately a rumpus erupted and it absorbed pretty much everyone in the common room. Including Kharne who had been crashed into by a Dunmer man, which set off the Argonians harsh temper towards the Dunmer race. Being rougher than most earned him jail time without a chance of paying off a fine. Now he stewed in a cell, angry and frustrated but gradually working himself down.

Ambition: Kharne has a very simple, albeit lofty, ambition. He is working to become stronger, earn lots of money, and free any Argonian slave he finds. Sometimes Khajiit as well. Either by force or by currency, depends on the other person. He plans to go back to Morrowind, the worst culprits of it in his eyes to free them all.

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

So don't go by the game ranks and get descriptive is the gist?

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

Soooo how deep into skills/magic are we goin? >.> Cuz I am scrounging my way through that wiki and memory and I don't wanna go overboard XD