» Fri Dec 09, 2011 10:53 am Character Sheet:
Name: Kalazzar
Gender: Male
Age: 32
Race: Khajiit
Skills: Sneak, Lockpicking, Bow, Destruction, 1-hand
General Appearance: Standing at 5 ft 10 in. Kalazzar is by no means the biggest cat around, but he makes up for it with his natural agility and careful waryness of his opponent. Covered in hard lean muscle and thick white fur with a sheen to it that tends to draw more attention then he would like. His fur is streaked with thin long black lines that angle from his abdomen to his shoulders, where his hair begins to form his adored mohawk. His face slopes down to a slightly larger than normal nose stuck between two slanted yellow eyes with pupils so black anyone who looks into them feel as if they might fall in. His left ear has a chunk missing from the tip, a result of his close call with a wolf, which he now rubs when musing to himself. His strong jawline gives him the ability to take a decent amount of hits in a fight, and his white, gleaming fangs come in handy sometimes as well as his carefully sharpened claws.
Weapons: Prefers a one handed weapon, but has learned that sometimes one must adapt to the situation at hand. Always carries a bow and arrows.
Armour/Clothing: Light armor/clothing
Other Items: Besides the necessities, Kalazzar always wears an amulet given him by a priest of Akatosh who knew his parents before their untimely deaths, who claimed the amulet was crafted by Kalazzar's father and then enchanted by his mother to absorb certain magic spells. He also carries a belt which he nocks for every bandit he kills.
Personality: A Khajiit who now seeks to purge evil from the world by any means necessary. His determination has made him cold, and hard towards bandits, and he would betray his ownkind rather than help a thief (which have often been Khajiit). Kalazzar believes in honor and protecting those that cannot protect themselves, and gives aid where it is needed. Intelligent and quick-witted, but has a quirk where he talks in 3rd person most of the time. Usually has a calm demeanor, but saying the right (or wrong) thing will cause the speaker to regret it. Is very patient and will assess a problem before dashing headlong into trouble, like he did in his youth (and lost him a piece of his ear). He enjoys nature and will often stop to admire his surroundings, with a particular interest in insects. All-in-all he's easy to get along with, just don't call him a "sugar tooth," he will rip your tongue out. Also dislikes Argonians with a passion. He is always hunting the group called "The Creeping Moon," who were responsible for his parents untimely demise.
Brief History: Born in Elsweyr, Kalazzar remembers fuzzy memories of deserts and forests, but his family moved to Skyrim to get into the booming caravan business when he was really young. Whenever they would stop to rest after leaving a town, Kalazzar would be taught lessons of self-protection from his father, Elazar, who was well trained in the art of the axe, and his mother, Zahraji, an expert in destruction magics. Kalazzar learned quickly for someone so young (He was 10 at the time), and was able to become familiar with these two subjects. When he questioned his parents as to how the became so talented, they would tell him it was for self-defense against bandits, but Kalazzar thought they would have been able to defend themselves with less skill than they had. He never pushed more though, unless he provoke his father's temper.
When Kalazzar reached the age of 27 his parents began to think of retiring and handing down the business to him. Fate, it would seem, had other plans for Kalazzar. During one of the family's stops on the way from Markarth to Solitude, a group of bandits assaulted the caravan while Kalazzar was gathering some wood for their fire. Hearing sounds of heavy combat, he rushed back, and came to the campsite where he found both his parents dead along with 5 or 6 bandits. The caravan wagon was sacked and damaged, and footsteps led into the thicker parts of the forest. Too many for Kalazzar to contend with, however. Seeing his parents broken bodies, he could nothing but stare and vow to kill every single bandit he could.
After checking the bodies of the the bandits and finding some money and things he could sell, he found on one an insignia of a black moon crawling on all fours. He would later find out this was the Creeping Moon. Kalazzar buried his parents then, with a heavy laden heart, and finished the trip to Solitude, where talk of a rebellion was the latest gossip. Selling what he could, he bought a bow and some arrows. He would have had his father's axeRender but the bandits looted it, so he had to make do with a steel war axe form the merchant. It would rip flesh apart just as well. Revenge as his guide, Kalazzar began by looking for rumors of this gang and eventually found a trail to follow that took him to a little village in the Falkreath Hold named Helgen...
Chapter 1: Helgen
Kalazzar took a deep breath as he paused and listened. The crisp Skyrim air was as refreshing as it was painful. Khajiit weren't meant to be in the cold, but luckily his fur was thick enough to keep him warm enough from freezing. Looking around, Kalazzar took in the scenery, admiring the beautiful colors of the Nordic province. Up ahead he could just make out the roofs of some buildings and a rather large and ominous stone wall that signalled Imperial territory. Helgen was close. One step closer to the Creeping Moon.
Conitinuing on, Kalazzar made his way down the dusty trail that led down the side of a small cliff.
Too many hills for Khajiit to walk
He then proceeded to trip on a root stcking out of the ground and face-planted into the rough dirt and grass. Stifling a curse, He picked himself up and dusted off while walking towards Helgen. Soon the gates became visible and Kalazzar's pulse quickened in anticipation. There were some carriages riding through, laden with what looked like prisoners, bound in manacles, one even had a cloth tied around his mouth. Curious, he came in the gate behind the carriages. Upon entering the town he noticed an Imperial general talking with some elves. Kalazzar recognized them as being members of the Aldmeri Dominion. Not being one for politics, he moved on towards the local inn, where some information on the Creeping Moon awaited him.
There was a commotion behind him, and as he turned to see what was happening, he witnessed as one of the prisoners was pierced through by an arrow from one of the Imperial guards.
The weak hunter cannot outrun an arrow of Sovngarde. Note to self, do not anger Imperial archer.
Scanning the area, he noticed all the prisoners were lined up and one was being led to a chopping block, watched over by a fierce looking butcher wielding an even fiercer looking axe. The prisoner was shoved down roughly, and slammed into position by a Legate. The yard was completely quiet now. The only noise was the soft flapping of a passing hawk, and then a dull thud as the axe made contact with the block. The prisoner's head rolled to a slow stop. The Legate called for the next prisoner, a Nord in rags. Kalazzar lost interest and turned to get back to business, when a strange roar filled the sky so loud everyone stopped in awe and confusion. Kalazzar stopped as well and scanned the sky. In all his travels he had never heard a sound like that before, animal or other.
Back at the block it was the Nord-in-rags' turn. He slowly made his way towards the block, most likely praying to whatever gods he claimed. The Legate, obviously annoyed by the Nord's lack of enthusiasm towards his oncoming death, ordered him to move it and thrusted him down towards the block. The headsman flexed his shoulders, prepping for the swing. Standing beside Kalazzar was a female Redguard who leaned his way and whispered, "See that Nord? The one on the block? When they were calling out the names I heard the Imperials mention he wasn't on their list, but they decided to behead him anyway. Once again the Empire fails its citizens, just like when they signed that treaty with the Aldmeri."
Kalazzar looked at her, confused, "This one does not understand. Why would Empire kill someone that has done nothing?"
The woman snickered, "Because they can Khajiit. Probably makes them feel better about being those elves' slaves."
Thinking to himself, Kalazzar decided the Empire was without honor and that he would-
RRROOOOOAAAAAARRR!!!!
Kalazzar flinched from the pure force of the wind that followed that monstrous sound, falling to one knee. Looking up he saw guards and prisoners, including the Nord-in-rags, picking themselves up off the ground. Above them, perched on the stone watchtower, was a gargantuan creature the likes of which Kalazzar had never seen. Covered in black scales, with wings the size of a horse, Kalazzar suddenly feared for his life and knew without a doubt this creature wasn't paying a friendly visit.
This one thinks an Argonian took one too many skooma and mated with a bat...
The creature opened its mouth and a strange guttural sound emerged that sounded an awful lot like words to Kalazzar, but the being did not look like one that was capable of speech. Regardless, the very sky reacted to the beast and dark foreboding clouds began to spin faster and faster until bright lights appeared within steadily growing larger. One of the lights slammed into the building adjacent to where Kalazzar was standing, destroying it easily. Fire was raining from the sky now in droves, slaughtering everything it came into contact with. People were running to and fro in complete panic, guards trying to restore order where there was only anarchy. A few had taken the initiative and were attempting to shoot the beast down with arrows, but most of them bounced of the natural armor the creature sported. It took off flapping those huge wings which appeared leathery but Kalazzar was unsure.
After a good distance the creature turned about and descended upon the panicking town. It opened its mouth again and a vast torrent of flames belched forth, emersing the defenders and incinerating them alive. The screams would haunt Kalazzar's dreams, he was sure. Deciding it was time to stop being a sitting target, he hopped down off the inn's porch and headed along the edge of the nearby wall using the shadows as his cover. He spotted a man running towards the towns keep and suddenly recognized the man as Algor, his contact about the Creeping Moon.
Kalazzar started to call out to him, but doubted he could hear him over the cacophony of the chaos around him. So, stepping back into the light he made to head towards the man when the creature swept down from above, drenching the area in a cloud of fire. When the smoke cleared all that remained was a charred body laying on the charred ground. Kalazzar stopped and bowed his head.
The only lead Kalazzar had is dead...there is nothing here for this one now. In a few minutes there won't be a Helgen either, me thinks. Time to go. Maybe better luck to be found in Whiterun. It is closer and the inn is sure to have someone with a little knowledge.
Having reached the main gate, Kalazzar turned and watched the horror that was unfolding before him. Bodies littered the ground everywhere. Flames licked across buildings torching the wooden town indiscriminately. That massive creature flying off finally, probably thinking everyone was dead or not worth its time.
That was the last thing Kalazzar saw as he walked out of the town, once again lost and looking for answers...
