Dradin
Tribunal Temple Acolyte
AS88 is a close advisor and leader of foreign relations in the guild. And he expresses the same concerns as I do. I don't know if this can be worked out properly, but I appreciate the offer the same.
Caravanners of Elsweyr - Khajiit Caravan Guild
- Thread starter Dradin
- Start date
onlyahark
Pond lurker
Ah...and here was foolish Ahark thinking he could unite the beastial races...create brothers in arms. Finally being able to rise above our downfall and take back tamriel...I understand that the argonian name cannot stain the flawless reputation of the sand breathers.... But be warned Ri'Karav... If you step foot in blackmarsh...morrowind or skyrim...the depths of oblivion shall shudder with the screams of your people. Consider yourself a high value target Honored friend. I am sorry things couldn't be arranged... Good tithings
J’Kaasha. Not the son of a wealthy Skooma dealer, renowned mage, or legendary thief, but the son of a trader blacksmith and a seamstress. An armoursmith’s and general store on the outskirts of Corinthe was J’Kaasha’s childhood home, where his father made and repaired armour for passing adventurers. The young Khajiit would ask questions of every customer he met, asking where they were going, why, and who they would be fighting. J’Kaasha’s mother was concerned that her cub would become a simple sellsword, a cut-throat, but he always reassured her.
“This one is just curious, mother!”
As he grew, he wandered the city himself or with his older brother and made scraps of cash with friends, singing and dancing just for the fun of it. He enjoyed being around happiness and good humour, despite the unfortunate circumstances he saw among them, many of them addicts or criminals. He helped them when he could, but money was never in abundance, so he helped them in other ways. He did jobs on their houses, and restitched clothes and any armour his old friends had, if they had any. He even snatched the odd loaf of bread for those too old or ill to take it for themselves.
Soon enough, though, the old and ill Khajiit began to die, leaving new ones in their wake, and J’Kaasha came to understand that this was just the way of things. So, he spent more time with his mother and father, learning the finer arts of their trades as seamstress and blacksmith, respectively. By this time, J'Kaasha's brother had left home, banding together with a few unsavoury types and heading north into Cyrodiil, where his mother was worried he would find "nothing but trouble." The family were sorrowful of their split, the nature of Kharir's departure being confrontational and almost violent. The remaining family recovered, though, and during this time J'Kaasha's father showed him how to use his works; armours of leather and mail, and simple yet extremely elegant sabres forged from Corinthian steel. He learned, and grew, yet kept his hedonistic charm, friendly wit and humour. He even learned some very basic magical skill from a young passing Altmer, who taught J'Kaasha the most simple forms of restoration and alteration magic. What was only a few short years later, rumours of the Flu began to spread like the plague itself.
J’Kaasha’s father, Do’Jharra, had always been a nomadic sort, and once an old friend of his stopped by the store to invite him onto a small caravan heading away from Corinthe and the Flu, it was settled that the family would flee north. In a matter of a few weeks, the group had been thinned to just a few dozen, and J’Kaasha’s little sister was starting to ail. The siblings had been close, and it made him more sorrowful than ever to see her suffer. What was worse, however, was that he knew that his parents would stay with her, and die too.
Do’Jharra saw the worry in J’Kaasha’s heart, and took him away from the night’s camp one moonlit Tirdas. The pair sang a song that they had always sang, and played the lute and drums like always, before Jharra told his son that he must go, and fulfil his destiny as the adventurer he would always be. Jharra told him to go on alone, until he got to Valenwood, and then to carry on the trades that he had always practiced, helping other Khajiit as they always had done. Do’Jharra handed him a pack full of food, and the family’s last remaining gold. He treaded through the night, and through the day, and through the night before stopping for rest. Aching and blistered, he stumbled across a caravan of slavers from Black Marsh, just able to slip back into the scenery in time. After finding what he could only hope to be a clean water source, he rejoined the road north and headed for Dune.
It was as he passed the near-derelict city that he came across another caravan. This one friendly and led by a mage named Ri’Karav. The leader treated J’Kaasha with welcome and food, and reassurance that the group that remained were healthy and resourceful. They shared their stories, and Ri’Karav learned that J’Kaasha’s krin and infectious sense of humour was just one facet of a Khajiit who was also a thinker and a reliable confidant despite his relatively young age. As the pair travelled with the rest of the caravan, J’Kaasha also demonstrated his respectable skills with his dual-wielded sabres, and affection for lightening the mood with his upbeat songs and lute playing. J’Kaasha had reason to sing, after all; he was alive, and he was free. Ri’Karav was a good and fair leader, and the caravan respected him. He mourned the loss of his family in his heart, but thanked the moons every night for his time with them, and vowed to himself that he would do them proud. Ri’Karav and the others were his family now, including the newcomer calling herself Khasrin, but questions still remained in his heart about his brother; where had he gone? Was he even alive? J'Kaasha had to find out, or at least try.
He spoke to Ri'Karav privately and promised to return to the caravan, leaving with a small pack of provisions and enough coin to see him across the border and along the northern border of Elsweyr. He stayed away from settlements, and set basic traps to catch small animals as he travelled. For weeks he searched for his brother, near the Elsweyr/Cyrodiil border. His brother had told him more about the band he had joined, and how they aimed to reclaim areas near the west bank of the Niben, land that he said was rightfully Khajiiti. J'Kaasha made a few allies by helping local blacksmiths and aiding the locals, but no information came about his brother, no matter how many people he asked. He thought often about the caravan, all the way over in Valenwood, and how he could have made a huge mistake leaving them on his own, but he had to search for the last of his family. He had to.
“This one is just curious, mother!”
As he grew, he wandered the city himself or with his older brother and made scraps of cash with friends, singing and dancing just for the fun of it. He enjoyed being around happiness and good humour, despite the unfortunate circumstances he saw among them, many of them addicts or criminals. He helped them when he could, but money was never in abundance, so he helped them in other ways. He did jobs on their houses, and restitched clothes and any armour his old friends had, if they had any. He even snatched the odd loaf of bread for those too old or ill to take it for themselves.
Soon enough, though, the old and ill Khajiit began to die, leaving new ones in their wake, and J’Kaasha came to understand that this was just the way of things. So, he spent more time with his mother and father, learning the finer arts of their trades as seamstress and blacksmith, respectively. By this time, J'Kaasha's brother had left home, banding together with a few unsavoury types and heading north into Cyrodiil, where his mother was worried he would find "nothing but trouble." The family were sorrowful of their split, the nature of Kharir's departure being confrontational and almost violent. The remaining family recovered, though, and during this time J'Kaasha's father showed him how to use his works; armours of leather and mail, and simple yet extremely elegant sabres forged from Corinthian steel. He learned, and grew, yet kept his hedonistic charm, friendly wit and humour. He even learned some very basic magical skill from a young passing Altmer, who taught J'Kaasha the most simple forms of restoration and alteration magic. What was only a few short years later, rumours of the Flu began to spread like the plague itself.
J’Kaasha’s father, Do’Jharra, had always been a nomadic sort, and once an old friend of his stopped by the store to invite him onto a small caravan heading away from Corinthe and the Flu, it was settled that the family would flee north. In a matter of a few weeks, the group had been thinned to just a few dozen, and J’Kaasha’s little sister was starting to ail. The siblings had been close, and it made him more sorrowful than ever to see her suffer. What was worse, however, was that he knew that his parents would stay with her, and die too.
Do’Jharra saw the worry in J’Kaasha’s heart, and took him away from the night’s camp one moonlit Tirdas. The pair sang a song that they had always sang, and played the lute and drums like always, before Jharra told his son that he must go, and fulfil his destiny as the adventurer he would always be. Jharra told him to go on alone, until he got to Valenwood, and then to carry on the trades that he had always practiced, helping other Khajiit as they always had done. Do’Jharra handed him a pack full of food, and the family’s last remaining gold. He treaded through the night, and through the day, and through the night before stopping for rest. Aching and blistered, he stumbled across a caravan of slavers from Black Marsh, just able to slip back into the scenery in time. After finding what he could only hope to be a clean water source, he rejoined the road north and headed for Dune.
It was as he passed the near-derelict city that he came across another caravan. This one friendly and led by a mage named Ri’Karav. The leader treated J’Kaasha with welcome and food, and reassurance that the group that remained were healthy and resourceful. They shared their stories, and Ri’Karav learned that J’Kaasha’s krin and infectious sense of humour was just one facet of a Khajiit who was also a thinker and a reliable confidant despite his relatively young age. As the pair travelled with the rest of the caravan, J’Kaasha also demonstrated his respectable skills with his dual-wielded sabres, and affection for lightening the mood with his upbeat songs and lute playing. J’Kaasha had reason to sing, after all; he was alive, and he was free. Ri’Karav was a good and fair leader, and the caravan respected him. He mourned the loss of his family in his heart, but thanked the moons every night for his time with them, and vowed to himself that he would do them proud. Ri’Karav and the others were his family now, including the newcomer calling herself Khasrin, but questions still remained in his heart about his brother; where had he gone? Was he even alive? J'Kaasha had to find out, or at least try.
He spoke to Ri'Karav privately and promised to return to the caravan, leaving with a small pack of provisions and enough coin to see him across the border and along the northern border of Elsweyr. He stayed away from settlements, and set basic traps to catch small animals as he travelled. For weeks he searched for his brother, near the Elsweyr/Cyrodiil border. His brother had told him more about the band he had joined, and how they aimed to reclaim areas near the west bank of the Niben, land that he said was rightfully Khajiiti. J'Kaasha made a few allies by helping local blacksmiths and aiding the locals, but no information came about his brother, no matter how many people he asked. He thought often about the caravan, all the way over in Valenwood, and how he could have made a huge mistake leaving them on his own, but he had to search for the last of his family. He had to.
Dradin
Tribunal Temple Acolyte
I am glad you realize that the rejection of your services was not out of disrespect.
Khasrin
Fusozayiit
One minor change...I do need to rename my character (long story, seems I inadvertently ripped off a character an acquaintance of mine created when I chose her name...oops.) In any case, I've changed Jinva's name to Khasrin and will update her backstory accordingly. This will be the only name change. Sorry 
Rimfaxe96
Well-Known Member
*tries desperately to refrain from looking through her cat pictures and turning the guild page into the Funny Khajiit Photo Thread*
!!!
Dradin
Tribunal Temple Acolyte
Ok, let's try to limit the pictures. (I'm talking to you Rimfaxe!)
However speaking of pictures, I am going to attempt to make a skyrim rendition of Ri'Karav and post it here, along with part one of his revamped and fan-fic-ified backstory. Here's a little tidbit of information to keep you all on your toes.
"The Order of the Worm was heavily involved in the shadowy alleys of Alinor, Ri'Karav working with them extensively, discovering more and more each day. While once he may have experimented upon dead skeevers and mudcrabs, now he was given the opportunity to test on less fortunate victims..."
However speaking of pictures, I am going to attempt to make a skyrim rendition of Ri'Karav and post it here, along with part one of his revamped and fan-fic-ified backstory. Here's a little tidbit of information to keep you all on your toes.
"The Order of the Worm was heavily involved in the shadowy alleys of Alinor, Ri'Karav working with them extensively, discovering more and more each day. While once he may have experimented upon dead skeevers and mudcrabs, now he was given the opportunity to test on less fortunate victims..."
Rimfaxe96
Well-Known Member
Roq'ja
High Value Target of the Dark Brotherhood
Roq'ja has traveled many sands, and followed many whispers to come to this place. For Roq'ja too, had this idea for a caravan guild amongst the Khajiit. However, it appears to this one that you have founded on it first, and Roq'ja humbly accepts this decision and would like to show his interest in your guild.
This one has even gone so far as to make an account on these forums to spoke to you, oh esteemed caravan leader. But do not doubt Roq'ja's experience as a roleplayer or skilled fighter because on his lack of posts on this forum.
This one has even gone so far as to make an account on these forums to spoke to you, oh esteemed caravan leader. But do not doubt Roq'ja's experience as a roleplayer or skilled fighter because on his lack of posts on this forum.
