Name:Xerxes Goldmane
Gender:Male
Race:kahjiit
Age:34

Height:6'6
Eye Color:slate gray
Hair Style:long blond mane with braids
Skin Color:light tan fur covers his body


Class:Leonide
Class Focus:combat
Major Skills:blade,blunt,heavy armor,athletics,hand-to-hand,marksman



General Appearance: http://www.mtgstaples.com/mediac/450_0/media/DIR_11601/b7.jpg

Tattoos/Scars:the fur would cover them
Armor:bonemould armor he found amongst a group of slavers he killed
clothing:comoners clothing (white shirt,brown breeches)
Weapons:the double sided glaive in the picture is his name weapon

misc gear:not much,his speed allowed him to catch deer,and a small cloth bag that is full of gold from the slavers

Spells:none

Mental Description:smart,but quiet,charming,he talks walks and acts with a certain lionistic calm and suavness

Brief History:Xerxes was once a proud champion,but when he challenged the previous Pride-leader to single combat and lost he was exiled,stripped of everything but his weapon he stumbled upon a group of dunmer slavers,slaying all of them he took their armor as a sign of defiance and made his way into cyrodill. As a leonide Xerxes was trained in the War-fare of the iron-Roar. A fast moving fast strikeforce. Xerxes trained motions for years. Running on all fours. Swift double headed Glaive attacks. Xerxes's past is shrowded in Mystery what with his oldest brother Osirus wanted for necromancy. And His younger brother horus Missing Xerxes feels abandoned and is hoping to find the golden masked man who took his mother's life.







Xerxes watched an Altmer drag a Child into the cold,looking about hurridly she rusehd up stairs, Xerxes shrugged and continued chewing on the jerky he made. A few minutes later The woman came back down,over powered the Nordic bartender and disappeared into the kitchen. Xerxes frowned in confusion does she own the bar? Xerxes wondered with a wry grin as the Nord sulked in a corner. The women came back out and rushed up the stairs. A few minutes later the Altmer came back down. Staying this time she ordered a drink and engaged the nord in some light conversation. Xerxes couldnt tell what it is,Why was he paying so much attention to this women. Xerxes watched her shiver slightly against...against what? the cold? He continued to watch her as he called over the bartender, just enough to get her to look at what drew away the nords attention,the quickly looking to the Nord he ordered a drink, anything acoholic,slamming a drake upon the wooden table he waited for his drink. Looking over to the altmer to see if he still held her eye.

ooc: How the hell do you do that without killing your brain, HK? Viuven's speech is amazingly interesting.

Havok, your kitty's photo has a broken link. He won't be happy.
It's just missing a couple letters. http://www.mtgstaples.com/mediac/450_0/media/DIR_11601/b7.jpg was the one you showed me via PM, right?

ic: Karst walked into Bruma with her hands in her pockets still and a look of hurt and annoyance on her face.

Why can't it ever just work? I find love, why can't that just be it? Fall in love, settle down, get married and have kids. That's all I ever wanted out of life.. and that's one of the few things I've never gotten. The small Khajiit pondered as her boots crunched in the snow, But no. I've got one man who says he loves me but I only feel like a toy to, and another who does love me, but is too nervous to make anything of it. And between all that, I have the Dark Brotherhood breathing down my [censored] neck, I've got the Deadra trying to stick a sword in my ass and..

Karst sighed as she entered the city and looked around, the air flowing from her nostrils in a cloud of steam. I've got every damn thing that's defective in me to work around through it all.

Shaking her head, she walked around the corner and shoved open the door to Olav's Tap and Tack, then walked up to the Nord. "You Olav?" She asked flatly. The man nodded, wondering what it was with strange women coming and sassing him today. "Gimme a bottle of whiskey."

"Alright, a glass of--"

"No. Bottle." Karst repeated. Olav gave her an odd stare, determined she wasn't kidding, then pulled out a large bottle of liquor and handed it to her. She dropped a pre-counted fistful of forty gold on the table, snatched the bottle and turned away, opening it to take a gulp before sitting down in the corner by the steps. Olav gave her an odd look, seeing as there were at least two tables and more chairs available, but she paid him no heed. Her right leg trailed out in front of her, her tail across it, with her left leg up and her left arm rested across the knee. Her right held the bottle, which she raised again to her mouth and let the fire water flow down her throat.
_______
Melanarde looked up from her soup as Olav set her rum down on the table, then took a couple coins that she put in his hand. A Khajiit managed to make eye contact for a brief second with her and she smiled gently in a polite manner. She finished her soup within the following minute, then realized as she took another sip of rum that he was still looking at her. She was about to speak when a darkly dressed and obviously distressed little Khajiit came in and demanded a bottle of whiskey. Her eyes lingered on the woman's crimson hair and elven face, wondering for a moment if she was an Ohmes before seeing the ears. Perplexed, Mel watched her plop herself into a dark corner with her very large drink.

"Hm." Melanarde mused, watching the woman glance up at Olav after a second, then go back to staring at her boots and drinking. Turning back to the other Khajiit, she met his eyes. "Can I help you?"

Xerxes' slate eyes glanced at the kahjiit that got in between his eye sight of the Altmer. She was fair to look at even if she was a little...odd looking. As she steped away he retained his look at the Altmer. She spoke suddenly asking him if she could help him. He thought for a second and spoke in the deep soothing voice. "I watched you carry the boy upstairs, Is he ok?" Xerxes took a sip from the random drink he was given. Xerxes was trying to find a way to ask why she was so.....imposing. He was unaquainted with how nobles acted. He allso found his eyes trying to stray to the kahjiit.

Veyar Nydelvu
Bruma

Veyar walked through the city streets of Bruma slowly. The crunch of his boots echoed softly as his bonemould boots trudged through snow they weren't designed to deal with. Snow was a relatively new thing to Veyar, though he'd been to nothern regions of Morrowind before. It was cold and wet and thick. In a way it reminded him of the ashlands. The sooty black ash that descended in clouds from Red Mountain blanketed the ground in much the same way that the snow did as it gently descended from the sky in Bruma.

The Dunmer sighed softly. The cold was irritating him, now, rather than clearing his head. The chilled nights in Vvardenfel were just right for clearing my head. He thought, walking towards the nearest inn. He pushed the door open and entered. His crimson eyes swept the room and--

And he came to a dead stop in the doorway as he saw Karst downing a bottle of ale. Veyar paused for a few seconds, looking hard at her back. Just walk up to her, Dark Elf. He obeyed his inner voice and approached, sitting in the chair next to her.

"You know," He said simply, "You shouldn't drink like that on an empty stomach. Can I buy you something to eat? I know it doesn't fix things but... maybe we can talk a bit." As he spoke, Veyar reached into his pouch and removed a few Drakes and set them on the bar counter for Olav.

OOC: HK, you kind of hijacked my chance to join your group D:

But I suppose there are other ways....


IC: Teegus reached down to take another long gulp from his mug, only to find nothing in it. He sighed, Ah well, atleast that damned feeling is gone...

He looked across the Inn, there were not many people there. Only him, Olav, the Dunmer/Altmer and a Khajiit that he had just noticed. It didn't seem quite normal to Teegus, and it being too quiet added to the strangeness. Then again, it was horribly cold outside.

Just then the Inn door swung open, and a small figure rushed in. The figure moved to fast for Teegus to get a good look at, but by the way it moved, he could tell it was a female, and that he noticed the long furry tail poking out of the back of her waist. She immediately headed to Olav, ''You Olav?'' she asked blandly, he nodded, ''Gimme a bottle of whiskey'' she commanded. Olav then stood, ''Alright, a glass of-''

''No, Bottle''. Olav gave her a strange look, then obeyed, he reached over to the wine rack, and pulled out a large bottle of whiskey and handed it to her. Olav mumbled something in Nordish and retreated to the kitchen once more.

She then placed some gold on his table and walked off with her prize and plopped into a corner by the fire, which was ironically, closest to Teegus's table. The Khajiit then proceeded to take a very long swig. When she finished, she kept the bottle propped against her knee. Her face explained everything, it was a mix of anguish, sadness, and rage.

Poor lass... Teegus thought, Must be having a bad day..., he had plenty of bad days, and the more he thought of it, the more he felt he had to do something. He knew if he tried to help, chances were he would have hand-imprint on his face for a while. But, it could help ease her day.

He was almost about to stand, when the door shot open again and a Dunmer stepped in. The Dunmer scanned the room with his dark maroon eyes, before spotting the the Khajiit sitting in the corner, cradling her whiskey as if it were a baby. The Dark elf headed towards her, and sat down at a chair next to her.

Teegus sighed, he was glad he wasn't the one who had to check on her. But his instincts told him that the Dunmer was involved with her bad day. He sat up in his seat, trying his best not to look at the two, and watched the Dunmer intently.

ooc: You can always just eavesdrop to get your info. :hehe:

ic: In her corner on the floor, wedged between the stairs and the fireplace, Karst took another drink of her bottle. She shifted her body a little and groaned at the discomfort that shot through her backside as the blood flow returned to her tail. Deciding to find a table to sit at to avoid any more body parts going to sleep on her, and stood up, feeling a little buzzed. The alcohol was starting to kick in.

Sitting down, she found a half-empty bottle of some kind of local ale sitting on the table and casually set her whiskey bottle on the floor at her feet and killed the half bottle of ale. It was decent, but she didn't care about flavor right now; all Karst wanted was something strong. Setting the empty bottle down on the table, Karst closed her eyes and rested her head on her arms. All my other issues aside, how do I tell the group that I'm leaving them for a while to get a grip on myself? I can't just be like, 'Hey, guys. I'm gonna ditch you now because I'm not feeling good. Hope you don't all die.'

She heard bootfalls approaching, but assumed it was some other random customer and ignored it, even when she heard the source of the sound sit in a chair at her table. Seeing as she was expecting to be ignored, she jumped and her tail that was tucked under the chair fluffed up when she was spoken to. Upon looking at the man addressing her, she glared a little.

"You know," Veyar started, "You shouldn't drink like that on an empty stomach. Can I buy you something to eat? I know it doesn't fix things but.. maybe we can talk a bit."

Karst watched him as he put down some money for food. In all honesty, Karst knew she needed to eat as she hadn't done so much all day, but at the same time she was too upset to care or feel hungry. There was, however, a good amount of emotions coming off of him that told her he felt bad. Whether that was because she was upset, because she was upset at him in particular, because he was afraid of losing her or simply because he knew he'd screwed up, she didn't know, but it was enough to make her consider giving him a chance. Lifting her head a notch, Karst looked him in the face and shrugged.

"Alright, fine. But don't expect to win me over just by buying me dinner." She conceded. After a small pause, she looked back down. "I'm still pissed off at you, though."
_______
Melanarde's mouth twitched into a small smile as the Khajiit mentioned Tim and she chuckled. "Yeah, he's fine. He was just hungry. Some kids beat the poor guy up for his bread."

The Altmeri noblewoman took another little sip of her rum just before turning at hearing the door open. A man in full Indoril Bonemold, minus the helm, stood there in the doorway. She cocked her head to the side slightly and stared at him. What the hell is an Ordinator doing in Bruma?

The man walked over to the odd, distressed little feline and sat down. Melanarde couldn't help but giggle when he spoke to her and her tail puffed up, despite feeling a little bad at laughing at the poor Khajiit's expense. She watched the two a minute, and although she couldn't make out much, she caught the last bit of a sentence: '..don't expect to win me over just by buying me dinner.'

So they know each other, huh? An odd little Khajiit and a servant of Vivec. What an unlikely pair. Suddenly, she recalled she'd been talking to the larger Khajiit in the room. Turning back to Xerxes, Mel nodded at the pair she'd been watching. "Don't see that every day, do you?"

The Dunmer said something to the Khajiit that Teegus couldn't quite catch, after a few seconds the Khajiit stood and sneered at him a bit. "Alright, fine. But don't expect to win me over just by buying me dinner." She conceded. After a small pause, she looked back down. "I'm still pissed off at you, though."

Bah ha! I knew that Dunmer had something to do with this! His mind gave the equivalence of a crazy grin and he looked down towards the table, but still keeping his ears locked on their conversation, his long scaly tail began swaying in the air, causing a quiet air-whipping noise. His Instincts told him that something was about to go down.

To avoid suspicion, he withdrew one of his stolen daggers he got from Plundered Mine and pretended to use it as a toothpick, something was going on around Bruma, and he had a feeling the Khajiit and Dumner knew something about it.

Do'rhadi spotted Zant against the wall, he still wanted to spar the man. Getting up slowly Do'rhadi made his way over to Zant I doubt he would do it, seeing as what has just happened in here. But Might as well try for the sake of boredom he thought as he reached the large armoured feline. "Hey, Zant, Want to spar outside? Maybe relieve tension that has been building up?" he asked in a respectful tone. His ears perking up a notch followed by a light swish of his tail.

Veyar nodded silently. He understood what she meant, but was grateful she was willing to try and work things out. It was his fault in the first place, and Veyar knew that. He nodded to Olav, trusting the man to bring something decent. For two drakes he got a loaf of bread and a small portion of meat. Veyar offered them to Karst, "Here," He offered, "You look like you need it more than I do." He paused for a few moments, glancing around the room and meeting a few pairs of eyes that he had spotted watching them. Thirty years in the Armigers and Veyar knew how to peripherally watch the room for somebody who might be suspiciously looking at him while he didn't seem to be watching. He returned a pointed stare that he had mastered over the decades. A stare that said Back off, n'wah. This doesn't concern you.

Innocently, as if he hadn't shot a few glares at curious people, Veyar turned back to Karst. "I won't offer any excuses, Karst." He said softly, "All I can say is that it was my fault, and I'm sorry. I truly didn't mean to hurt you."
For a moment, flashbacks echoed through Veyar's mind. The splatter of freshly spilled blood flashed across his memory as his thoughts drifted momentarily to when he returned to Morrowind. In the distance, he thought he heard the sound of screamed insults and calls to arms in Dunmeri, but knew it was his imagination. This is Cyrodiil. He told himself, You did what you had to do for Karst. She doesn't even know it yet. You're not in Morrowind anymore. There aren't any Dunmeri Ordinators to come after you.

Reaching down between her feet, Karst snatched her whiskey and took another drink of it, then set the bottle on the table and tapped her fingers. The leather thudded dully against the wood until the food came. It wasn't much, just a bit of beef and a loaf of bread, but her mouth watered at the sight of it, her body finally remembering, 'Hey, I need food, don't I?'

Karst reached a hand out to the plate but faltered just a fraction of a second, wondering if she really wanted to accept a gift of any kind from him right now. Her stomach gave her a little kick, though, and she grabbed the plate, scooting it to herself. Pulling off a chunk of bread a bit large for the size of her mouth, Karst shoved it into her face and chewed a minute before swallowing. Bread hadn't tasted so good to her in a long time.

She brushed the crumbs off her gauntlets on her pants before leaning forward a bit to reach behind herself and snatch the dagger from her waistband. After picking a little bit of dried blood off the edge of the silver instrument, Karst cut off a little bit of the meat and ate it. It wasn't sirloin steak, but it wasn't bad either. When she swallowed that, she turned her eyes to Veyar and gave him a little nod. "Thanks.." She said a little reluctantly, as if feeling stupid that it'd taken Veyar ordering food for her to realize she was hungry. After another bite or two, her belly stopped grumbling at her and she looked up at Veyar after having listened to everything he'd said so far.

"Good, because I don't want excuses." Karst told him bluntly, then met his eyes, "What I want is answers. Why did you leave?"
_______
Zant was knocked from his thoughts by Do'Rhadi. He blinked for a moment as though he'd forgotten where he was, then sniffed the air. Smells like someone's cooking. Whatever it is smells good.

Averting his mind from the subject of food, he looked at the fellow Khajiit. "Spar? Uhm.. sure. Let's go down in the armory, though; I don't fancy being out in the cold if I can avoid it."

Veyar watched Karst eat in silence. He had noticed she looked a little thinner than usual, especially in the kind of top she was wearing now. He placed another coin on the table in exchange for a glass of whiskey and took a sip while Karst devoured her meal like a woman possessed. Ugh, what is this stuff? He wondered, glancing at the label of the bottle. Apparently it was the same stuff Karst was drinking earlier. Knowing her, it would be the strongest they had.

Veyar set the mug down and pushed it away, thoroughly disgusted with the watered down alchohol. Not even close to sujamma. Veyar glanced at Karst again, then pulled the mug over and downed its contents in one go. Not even close...

"What I want is answers. Why did you leave?" She asked him. Veyar took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be easy.

"I'd like to tell you, Karst... but not here. There are... too many." He said, tilting his head slightly towards the people on the other side of the room who had been watching. "Things have... changed in Morrowind."

Do'Rhadi gave a slight beaming grin, one could tell such things always got him in a good mood. After all there was no better way to understand someone than to fight them. That was his belief after all, "You look tense, like as if you are fighting with an emotion or thoughts." he spoke up as the younger khajiit turned around, beginning to head to the armoury at a slow pace for Zant.

"I'd like to tell you, Karst, but.. not here. There are.. too many." Veyar tilted his head in the direction of some people on the other side of the room. "Things have.. changed in Morrowind."

Immediately, Karst was annoyed. She finished the last of her food and half glared at him. Too many what? Idiots watching? Most of them have probably never been to Morrowind. Probably even less could give a crap what's going on there.

Standing up, the aggravated feline walked over and literally grabbed Olav. "Can I borrow a room for a little bit? I don't need it for the night." She asked, though it sounded more like a demand. The Nordic man glared back at her.

"What is it with you women? You think just because you're a woman you should get special--" Olav's angry monologue was cut off when Karst pulled her right index finger up and poked it into his throat.

"Don't get an attitude with me or I'll beat it right the [censored] out of you. Just answer the question." Karst spat. Olav groaned and fished a key out of his pocket, then handed it to her.

"Room four." He told her. Taking the key in her hand, she let her finger off his throat and turned around to go back to Veyar.

"C'mon, I've got someplace we can chat in private." Karst informed him, grabbing her booze, then turned tail and walked up to the rooms, unlocked number four and went inside, sitting down on the bed. "Okay, no more curious people. Now spill it." She ordered him rather abruptly.
_______
Zan'Tarre looked over at Do'Rhadi and shook his head.

"I've been fighting with emotions ever since Kvatch." He admitted with a sigh. "I don't know how to fix any of the things that're bothering me, either. It's seriously aggravating when you know something's wrong but you also know you can't do anything about it, y'know?"

As they walked on towards the armory in the basemant, Zant shook his head again. "I'm mainly worried about my sister, though. She's going through so much and she tells us so little. All we see is her going mad with the weight of it all."

He removed his Saber and leaned it against the wall, followed by his boots for the sake of damage and bruising from them. "Well, the best way in a sense to help deal with these emotions is to talk to someone about them I have found." he said softly letting his fur fluff out abit to help let the air pass through it. Doing a few quick streatches as well Do'rhadi pondered for a moment "If you'd like, you can vent out whats been bothering you down here. While sparring it helps sometimes."

Veyar blinked as Karst, quick as could be, got up and practically assaulted Olav until he gave her the key. Veyar didn't try to stop her, though, as an old phrase floated through his mind. Oblivion hath no wrath like a woman scorned.
Karst stormed off down the hall. Veyar looked at Olav and shrugged noncommittally. He dropped two coins on the counter for Olav and walked quickly down the corridor after her, mentally building up himself to talk about what had happened.

He shut the door behind him and leaned against it. "I know this is all unusual," Veyar said, "I'm usually not paranoid about talking about Morrowind in front of Cyrodiilians but..." He paused, his face paling slightly as he recalled the act, "Karst, I killed a man."

"Not in battle. That wouldn't be new. I've fought bandits and slavers and smugglers and criminals and Sixth House. Hell, I've even fought vampires and undead and redead and partly dead and even Daedra from the pits of Oblivion... but I've never struck down another man in cold blood." Veyar closed his eyes as the memories threatened to overwhelm him again. "I washed my hands. I washed them for hours, and even now I can still see his blood. The law in Morrowind; they think I killed a random civilian. I know who that man was, though. That man was that wizard who tortured me. The one who threatened to-- to skin you alive while I was forced to watch, just because I wouldn't do his bidding for him! He said that, and I drew my blade and slew him in the street."

Veyar clenched his fists as he looked at her, "Everybody saw me. Nobody in Morrowind would listen to why I did it. He had made threats, nothing more, as far as the law was concerned. I knew he knew about you and how I feel about you thanks to that [censored] Maear. That's why I couldn't stay. I had to go and see him; to try and talk reason with him. It didn't work. I don't know if it was a plan of his or not. He said if I didn't do as he said than I would wind up an outcast from Morrowind. I didn't believe him, but... now I'm wanted there. I couldn't-- I couldn't--" The Dunmer stopped, realizing that he'd been rambling and that tears were watering in his eyes as the stress from the whole situation caught up with him. I'm breaking down. I don't believe it... I've seen this happen to other soldiers but... I never thought I would feel like this.

When Veyar followed her inside, he shut the door and leaned on it before speaking. "I know this is all unusual. I'm usually not paranoid about talking about Morrowind in front of Cyrodiilians but..." Veyar faltered a little and his blue face got a little pale, "Karst, I killed a man."

The Khajiit arced an eyebrow and adopted a look of confusion. He.. killed someone? That's it?! I've killed tons of people! She was about to scream at him when he explained the specifics of it.

"Not in battle. That wouldn't be new." He continued, "I've fought bandits and slavers and smugglers and criminals and Sixth House. Hell, I've even fought vampires and undead and redead and partly dead and even Daedra from the pits of Oblivion.." Karst couldn't help but smirk for some reason at 'redead and partly dead,' but composed herself before he could hopefully notice. "..but I've never struck down another man in cold blood."

As she watched the Arminger, he closed his eyes and great, cold wave of emotion hit her from him. Karst blinked back tears invoked by Veyar's emotional onslaught and mentally shook her head to clear her mind. "I washed my hands. I washed them for hours, and even now I can still see his blood. The law in Morrowind; they think I killed a random civilian. I know who that man was, though. That man was that wizard who tortured me. The one who threatened to-- to skin you alive while I was forced to watch, just because I wouldn't do his bidding for him! He said that, and I drew my blade and slew him in the street."

Karst's blood ran cold, a chill slithered up her spine and her fur stood on end as she heard the bit about the man torturing him and threatening to skin her alive. She recalled the man in Jensine's who'd reeked of Netch that had freaked Veyar out, the vampire that had attacked her in the bath. She knew who he was talking about. As Veyar went on, his hands balled into fists and his emotional output increased, forcing Karst to wipe her eyes.

"Everybody saw me. Nobody in Morrowind would listen to why I did it. He had made threats, nothing more, as far as the law was concerned. I knew he knew about you and how I feel about you thanks to that [censored] Maear. That's why I couldn't stay. I had to go and see him; to try and talk reason with him. It didn't work. I don't know if it was a plan of his or not. He said if I didn't do as he said that I would wind up an outcast from Morrowind. I didn't believe him, but... now I'm wanted there. I couldn't-- I couldn't--" Finally, Veyar broke down, losing the ability to talk. Karst sniffed and sighed.

He's not faking it, is he? He can't be.. Karst frowned and stood up, walking cautiously over to the Dunmer. She just stood there and stared stupidly at him for a moment as tears glistened in his eyes, shocked that she was actually seeing the soldier break down and cry. She couldn't believe it. Sure, it'd been stupid of him to run off without the slightest warning or whisper of what he was going to do, but..

He did it to save my life. Slowly, Karst set a hand on his chest, on the ceremonial sash, then hugged him lightly. "It's okay, Veyar.." She said in a comforting tone, sounding a little choked up, "You did the right thing. We've still.. got a lot of issues we gotta talk over, but.. I'm a little less irked with you now that I know the truth. The Master is dead. You should be proud."
_______
Zant watched Do'Rhadi partially undress and shrugged, removing his sword and various bits of armor, leaving him in his burgundy pants and shortsleeved shirt. "It's just that Karst won't open up to anyone. It's pissing Iris off, too, I can tell." He explained as he stripped off his equipment, "Iris is ticked off about something with me that I haven't been able to talk to her about yet and Veyar, the guy in the fancy armor that came in, has been in and out of Karst's life without announcement and I'm starting to want to kick his ass for the stress he's putting on the poor girl. She's got enough problems without that crap.."

Zant glanced over his weapon options and snatched an iron longsword off its rack, then leaned on it. "How're you doing recently, anyway? I haven't seen you around. Been busy?"

OOC: hurrah people are in bruma at last, and it only took one year *nods* anyway im pretty sure i cleared this sheet with FC4 and ADDEFF so here goes nothing, altho i'm going to have to draft, re-draft, consider and write my entry post as i've lost my talent for words.

Name: Jethro.
Nickname: Jet.
Gender: Male.
Race: Breton/Nord.
Age: 20.
Birthsign: The Tower

Height: 6ft 7
Build: Very slim and quite feminine, but mainly very bony, when topless his ribcage sticks out as does his hip bones and collar bones.
Eye Colour: Bluish grey.
Hair Style: Long straight hair reaching to his shoulder blades at the back and just past his nipbles at the front. It is pale yet dirty blonde in colour.
Skin Colour: Pale.

Class: Commoner/Rogue.
Focus: Subtlety.
Skills: Staves, Blade, Speechcraft, Mercantile, Security, Alteration.

General Appearance:
http://i162.photobucket.com/albums/t244/klown-korpse/me/MeintheGarden.jpg
http://i162.photobucket.com/albums/t244/klown-korpse/me/Aha.jpg
http://i162.photobucket.com/albums/t244/klown-korpse/me/JustWalkintheDog.jpg
http://i162.photobucket.com/albums/t244/klown-korpse/Mothertoldmetostopbeinggay.jpg
http://i162.photobucket.com/albums/t244/klown-korpse/BewaretheBears.jpg
http://i162.photobucket.com/albums/t244/klown-korpse/Stick-Lake-05.jpg
http://i162.photobucket.com/albums/t244/klown-korpse/DeadHungry.jpg
Tattoos/Scars: A few minor scratches here and there but the only scar is a vertical one on his left kneecap that he got when he was a kid.

Clothing: A long-sleeved dark linen top that is thin and hugs close to his skin, worn over that is a dark, high collared, sleeveless jacket held closed by several belts across the chest and is also quite tight to his body. A pair of slightly baggy, dark trousers that bunch up around his feet, due to the length they scuff the floor at the back when he walks. He owns a large robe-like coat with a hood that he occasionally wears when he’s feeling ‘rough’. All his clothes are beginning to fade in areas and are more dark grey than black. As well as this they are beginning to fray around the edges due to everyday wear and tear. (Will do some shoddy sketches to show the clothes)
Accessories: Dark tinted spectacles that he wears everywhere. A large square piece of dark cloth he uses as a bandana to tie around his neck and cover his mouth. Fingerless gloves with long sleeves made from black-dyed wool. A large black and grey backpack filled with all the clothes he’s not wearing at the time.

Armour: Dark soft leather boots and some dark leather bracers.
Weapon: A 6ft black combat staff in hand and a small lightweight short sword strapped to his belt.

Pack/Pockets: Skooma, Dried Tobacco, Small steel smoking pipe.

Magic: Average Unlock/Lock, Feather, Slowfall, Water Walking, Woad/Dragon skin, Frost Fist, Tower Key and Tower Ward(reflect damage).

Mentality: Initially he seems quite mysterious, around new people he is very aware of his actions and his words almost as though he is testing their reactions to how he is. Despite his strange behavior and dark habits he is a very polite and honest guy, always saying what he thinks or feels. When he relaxes and takes down his mysterious demeanor he is very laid back and can sometimes be quite annoying with constant bad taste jokes and sixual innuendos. Although he uses Skooma occasionally, he doesn’t use it enough to alter his psyche to any major degree.

Misc:
- Is a street thief.
- Is a Skooma user.
- Is afraid of heights.
- Is good with animals.
- Cannot swim.
- Has an unusual fetish for Khajiits.
- Has exceptionally acute hearing and often finds high pitch noises disorientating.


History:
- Grew up a pretty normal life but fell in with a bad bunch of kids when he hit his teens, they got into minor drugs, petty theft and vandalism. This went on a few years until him and his friends got into some bad trouble with the law, most were caught and questioned before being locked up till they could plead innocence.
- His parents were ashamed and disowned him but by this time he was 17 and just about able to look after himself so he went off and started a new life in the Imperial City, albeit one of crime. He got mixed in with a group of beggars and small time thieves. He occasionally hikes to other cities for a change of pace and stays for a few days.

"I'd like to tell you, Karst, but.. not here. There are.. too many." The Dunmer tilted his head in the direction of some people on the other side of the room. "Things have.. changed in Morrowind." One of Teegus's head fins twitched as he tried to pick up the last part.

After that, their voices went down to a whisper. Teegus was so compelled to listen but he forced his excitement down, he stood up plopped a few coins on the table, and headed to his room. He carefully closed the door and sat down on the bed. He didn't feel the need to sleep, but felt utterly tired. For the sake of boredom he reached over the back-end of the bed, feeling around looking for something to keep him occupied.

His hand gripped something wooden, he chuckled victoriously and hoisted up his prize. In his hands, was a wooden guitar-like instrument, specifically crafted from a tree from the Tenmar Forest in Elsweyr. He positioned it on his chest and began strumming it rhythmically, stopping to tighten the strings, then continued, playing carefully, making sure one of his claws did not break a string. He continued for a few seconds before he was interrupted by a door, opening then closing, and muffled voice spoke. He stopped playing and placed the guitar beside him. Another muffled voice began to speak, Teegus placed the side of his head against the wall.

"Karst, I killed a man." It was a Dunmer voice, and Teegus automatically knew it was the Khajiit lass and Dunmer.

Teegus raised an eyebrow, Killed a man? People get killed all the time, and this Dunmer didn't look like the non-killer type. "Not in battle. That wouldn't be new." The Dunmer continued, "I've fought bandits and slavers and smugglers and criminals and Sixth House. Hell, I've even fought vampires and undead and redead and partly dead and even Daedra from the pits of Oblivion.. . ..but I've never struck down another man in cold blood."

Teegus knew this was none of his business, and hell, he could possibly be arrested if anyone saw him, he thought about trying to sleep, but a small part of his mind somehow knew that these two people, the Khajiit lass, and the Dunmer were part of something. Big.

He was too busy thinking, and he misheard some part of the conversation."It's okay, Veyar.." The Khajiit spoke now,, "You did the right thing. We've still.. got a lot of issues we gotta talk over, but.. I'm a little less irked with you now that I know the truth. The Master is dead. You should be proud."

The Master? Teegus felt unsure of this, he scratched his head thoughtfully. To much information at a time... He decided and pressed his head more into the wall, getting the feeling he was going to get involved in something he would regret.

Veyar looked down at the ceremonial armor he wore. I don't deserve to wear this anymore. He thought, wrapping one arm around Karst's small frame. "I didn't handle it the right way." Veyar said quietly, "I should have told you. I didn't want you going with me. That wizard was powerful... I'm only surprised I cut him down so easily."

"What scares me, though," Veyar continued, "Is how easy it was in my mind to kill another being in cold blood. I barely thought about it. I decided, in my mind, that he should die. And then suddenly he was dead, and his blood dripped from my blade." The Dunmer sighed, kissing Karst on the top of the head, "It doesn't bother you that I'm a wanted man, now? It doesn't bother you that there are probably Morag Tong assassins looking for me? Hell, I don't know if they even know I left Morrowind. I traveled alone across the Veloth mountains. But Karst..." He took her by the shoulders, looking into her eyes, "Please don't tell anybody. I'd rather that everybody didn't know I struck down a man in cold blood. I-- I don't know what the Empire or the Blades would do if they found out."

The Dunmer felt the hints of a smile touch his face as he considered the whole damned situation. It was so twisted and convoluted... "I could use a drink. And not that watered down ale they serve here. You want some sujamma? I still have some left in my pack at Cloud Ruler."


OOC: I love how everybody is spying on Karst and Veyar. Don't let the Armiger catch you! Spying is a crime with a penalty of death in Morrowind! (then again, so is stealing a pillow, if you don't want to pay the fine... )

OOC: Technically, my character is the only one spying on them (out of suspicion and boredom), in fact he's not even spying, just kinda eavesdropping

Karst gave him a funny look as he held her and asked if it bothered her that he was a wanted man. After a moment, she couldn't help it; she had to laugh.

"You're ridding, right? Since when have you known me to care about the law? C'mon, it's like you don't know me at all." She teased him, though her laughter and smile faded as she put her own hands on his shoulders. "But.. I have things I need to come clean with you about, too.. I.." Karst looked over her shoulder at the window in the room, then quickly broke off the half embrace to shut the curtains. She tossed a lock spell at the door and waited for it to click in reply, then sat down on the bed. "I can't let any of them hear me tell you this, though, or they'll kill us both. Come, sit." She sighed, slipping her coat off and flexing her fingers her gauntlets. After a moment of awkward silence, Karst decided she'd never be able to find the words to say what she wanted to perfectly, so she just started talking.

"Veyar.. Do you remember when I told you that.. That one of the men from the Dark Brotherhood contacted me?" She began nervously. She wasn't sure how Veyar would react to all of it. "I.. I kinda.. accidentally.. accepted their invitation."

Karst's head lowered in shame as she recalled the way she'd murdered Falcar. She hadn't even meant to do it, it'd just sort of.. happened. "They won't leave me alone.." She went on a moment later, her voice sounding afraid and uncertain. She rubbed the hole in her gauntlet where Va'Rahkshi had nailed her to a wooden crate with her own weapon and forced herself to keep speaking. "They're.. stalking me. They want me for abilities that I can't control.. I.. I don't know.. I don't want to have to murder anyone else. I've done enough of that already.. ah.."

Her throat caught as she recalled she'd never mentioned the incidents she'd been reminded of by Lucien. What would he think if he knew she'd brutally murdered over thirty people in one night in blind rage? As she tried to go on, though, she found her throat refused to emit sound. She managed a little gasping cry, something almost like a sob, and fidgeted with her hands. I can't tell him.. He'll hate me.. She decided irrationally, but her voice still denied her the ability to speak. Lowering her head a little more, Karst flattened her ears and found herself feeling very tiny all of a sudden.

(im getting bored of waiting =/ will post if i manage to post today. otherwise get that spy mission going. i want to spy on karst too. )

Turning back to Xerxes, Mel nodded at the pair she'd been watching. "Don't see that every day, do you?"



Xerxes shrugged his powerful shoulders. "I guess not." he mumbled. He looked around the room. "So My name is Xerxes." He grinned at her then watched the Kahjiit and dunmer head upstairs so much for that He thought to himself. Xerxes waited for her to name herself. The bells on his double sided glaive chimed quietly as he moved a bit. "Is there anything i can do around here for pay?"

"Please don't tell anybody. I'd rather that everybody didn't know I struck down a man in cold blood. I-- I don't know what the Empire or the Blades would do if they found out."

The final words of the Dunmer, before Teegus pulled his head back to clarify. So, the Lass and Dunmer seem to know each other pretty well. And she's quite pissed off at him The room seemed to be getting warmer and warmer, which began to irritate Teegus.

I need some air...

He stood up, and began rummaging through one of his bags. He pulled out a tattered Chain Mail Cuirass and slipped it on over his tan short, several holes and rips in the armor symbolized wounds and injuries he had suffered from axes, swords, and arrows. Most of them would have been fatal, but the armor always managed to stop the blade, or arrow tip inches from killing him. He then proceeded to pull out a short-sleeve leather jacket, and put it on over his chainmail armor. At night, the Cold air of Bruma was well...cold.

He stumbled out of his room, grabbing his Dwarven Longsword along the way, and stepped out of the Inn. The cold air invaded his body at every angle, trying to find any small opening in his clothes to sneak into and wreak some havoc.
Teegus shuddered, he was thankful for the leather jacket.

He headed towards the main gate, he needed to be away from civilization for a while, to be alone with his thoughts. He nodded at the guards and opened the gate, struggling slightly. Outside of Bruma's walls it was incredibly dark, if there was no snow, one would need a Torch to navigate through the darkness.

He saw a loose rock on the road, and kicked boringly. There, his mind began to wander. The Dunmer fellow, murdered someone in his homeland, and fled here so no one could find him. Teegus then got a dark idea, perhaps if I alerted the guard of this, and if he was captured, I would be rewarded with a large sum of gold... He banished the mad idea from his mind at once, I dont even know the fellow! Perhaps he did it, because it had to be done He kicked the rock once more.

I shouldn't have been spying on them in the first place, ah well, I guess I'll just- He stopped in his tracks and turned around. He thought he heard something behind him, nothing was there though. He turned back around, and continued on, I suppose I'll just keep my mouth shut, god, I feel like such- he stopped once more, this time, he definitely heard something behind him. He turned around, nothing still. Then at once he heard it again, a quiet, child-like whisper, coming from the forest. He cocked his head towards it and looked deeply.

There, he saw a flicker of movement, something was in the forest. He saw a dark, shadow figure moving incredibly fast through the forest, it wasn't to far away from him either, and it looked like it was getting closer. Teegus was to focused on the shadow in the forest, to notice the three figures standing in the middle of the road, several meters away from him. The three stood in a spaced out triangular shape, outfitted with a dark black armor. The lead figure raised a hand, and the shadow that Teegus was watching vanished.

Teegus caught the movement in the corner of his eye, and shot his gaze at the lead figure. His hand immediately shot to his sword, and pulled it out of the sheath, thinking the three figures were Bandits or Highwaymen. The lead figure was helmetless, and walked forward a few steps, Teegus pointed his sword directly at the figure, ''Hold it there pal!'' he warned. But the figure continued walking, the finally stopped. The figure was Imperial, with incredibly white long hair. He had a scar running across his right eye, that lead down to his cheek. This man, was no Bandit. He grinned and began to chuckle lightly.

Teegus lowered his sword slightly. This man had somehow looked familiar to him, but he had never seen this scar-faced Imperial. ''Who....Who are you?''

Veyar Nydelvu
A private room in Olav's Tap'n'Tack, Bruma

Veyar felt a lump rise in his throat, joining the one already there. He hadn't known Karst had gone and joined the Dark Brotherhood. On principle he disliked that organization; they were an illegal group, whereas the Morag Tong of Morrowind operated with a legal permit. But having committed murder in broad daylight himself, he was hardly in a position to take a moral stance against the Dark Brotherhood.

"Karst, I don't believe you're a murderer, no matter what you did." Veyar said softly, "We all make mistakes, and we just have to keep going and move on with our life. I know- I know it's hard, but... but the Dark Brotherhood doesn't control you. You're better than them." Veyar sighed, trying to phrase his thoughts into words that he could speak properly. He understood what Karst was going through. She was, deep down, a good person. Killing felt wrong to her, and that was a good thing. Once you grow cold hearted about it, then you become a bad person. Sometimes killing is necessary. Doing it anyway, knowing it's wrong is one thing. Killing and liking it, or not caring, is downright evil.

Veyar simply wrapped his arms around her small frame, holding her close. "Karst, Karst... you're not a bad person. Inside, you're good, no matter what you did in the past." He lowered his lips close to her ear as his voice dropped to a mere whisper, "I have faith in you, Karst. I have faith that even when you make mistakes, you know what you're doing is wrong and you won't keep it up. No matter what you've done, that was in the past."



Viuven-Ru
Cloud Ruler Temple Kitchen

Viuven sighed softly as the smell of roasting meat filled the kitchen. His stomach was driving him nuts, and he resisted the urge to walk over and sneak a few bites. It would be rude to do that, though; rude and obnoxious. No matter how terrible meat tastes when it's cooked and dry like that, I should respect Iris' gracious offer and at least hold face and pretend to like it.
Like all carnivores, Viuven preferred his meat raw, 'juicy' and preferably freshly killed. He stood and stretched, walking towards the centre of the kitchen in an open area. "Mind you if exercise?" Viuven asked. Without waiting for an answer, the Argonian stretched his limber, long limbs and proceeded to balance on one foot.

He began with the Hsksma balance routines. With one foot planted firmly on the ground, Viuven began slowly, gracefully moving his limbs from one position to another. He stretched and contorted, displaying an agility that was granted only from years and years of practicing such exercises to teach his joints and muscles how to bend, all within perfect balance. He slowly bent backward, forming an arch with his back as his right hand touched the floor. Without breaking the smooth grace of his movements, Viuven lifted his foot off the ground as he elevated himself up into a single-handed hand stand, where he began a new set of positions and slow, coordinated movements designed to enhance his flexibility and agile strength. It had been many days since Viuven had time to perform the Hsksma balances, and he had been awaiting a moment where he had open space and the time in which to run the routines. He hoped that Iris would be finished by the time he completed them.