Caravanners of Elsweyr - Khajiit Caravan Guild

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Dradin

Tribunal Temple Acolyte
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.
Ri'Karav is honored Roq'ja has chosen his guild and accepts this Khajjit into the group...

Right now for simplicity's sake I will use proper English. Welcome, I will add you to the roster shortly. Before anything are you playing PC. If you answered yes to this question than form a character name, and backstory (lm guessing Roq'ja is your characters name. Backstories for my character, Ri'Karav, Tora's character and AS88 are on the pages 2 and 3.)
Thanks!
 

AS88

Well-Known Member
Staff member

Khasrin

Fusozayiit
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.

Welcome, Roq'ja. Pleased to meet you. :coffee:
 

Dradin

Tribunal Temple Acolyte

Roq'ja

High Value Target of the Dark Brotherhood
Of course, this one is glad that he has been so warmly welcomed into your group. Roq'ja will be playing the PC version, as he is more so interested in the social aspect of the game than the gameplay itself, and does not mind not being a powerful player in exchange for full-blown immersion into the game.

Roq'ja will tell you his story, and hopes that his story does not seem cliched or mediocre;

* ** *** Roq'ja *** ** *
Bane of the Alik'r Desert, Nemesis of Cpt. Darkwater of the Abecean Sea, Merchant of the Gold Coast, High Value Target of the Dark Brotherhood, Firsthand to the Mage Aerinillion, Trade Prince of Firsthold, Survivor of the Knahaten Flu, Son of Jo'Magi the Mystic, and Self-Proclaimed Earl of Coin​

Roq'ja's first memory is the hot sands of an unfamiliar desert in the strange land of Hammerfell. At the age of 6, Roq'ja found himself abandoned and alone in the harsh heat of the well-known Alik'r Desert. How he got there, this one does not know. But he does know that he was saved from the verge of death by kindly Redguard merchant's, and was soon after employed in the service of the caravan's Alik'r Warrior bodyguards, who taught him the ways of the schmitar and other exotic swords, as well as the trade of smithing. For many moons, Roq'ja traveled with them, learning the ways of coin, sword, and steel, until the day of his 18th year, when he set out on a journey to find his origins and discover who his true mother and father were.

Using his acquired influence, this one boarded a merchant ship from Helgathe to the well-known island of Stros M'kai and sold his wares, listening well for rumors of where he may have come from. During this time, Roq'ja learned much of the Dwemer culture, trading much with the dwarven jewels and treasures that adventurers brought with them. Though his attempts at picking up rumors were fruitless, Roq'ja made a small fortune that was just enough to buy passage to his homeland of Elsweyr, to continue his quest there, where he was more likely to hear news of his parent's whereabouts. This journey was cut short however, by a pirate attack on the treacherous waters of the Abecean Sea. Many were killed, Roq'ja however, proved to be luckier, and was allowed to live as a cabin boy on the ship.

Roq'ja had not practiced his swordsmanship in a while, and was not confident he could defeat a ship full of swarthy seamen. And so, he spent months at sea, begrudgingly swabbing their decks and cleaning their messes, until he could finally find the time to strike. This chance came to Roq'ja one foggy Frostfire night, off the shores of the Gold Coast. Using guile and cunning, this one tricked the navigator of the ship, and steered the ship into the rocky mouth of the Brena River, which separates Cyrodill and Hammerfell. The crash was terrible, and much of the crew was not likely to survive. Roq'ja made quick his escape into the grasslands of Cyrodill, finally finding refuge in the town of Skingrad.
**********​
For two years, Roq'ja began selling his wares along the Gold Coast, enjoying much of the trade between Skingrad and Anvil, spending his nights in the local inns and taverns. This all came to a halt one night, while leaving the town of Kvatch to continue his route to Skingrad, that he was attacked on the road! A shadowy assassin equipped with a deadly dagger tried to rip out Roq'ja's throat like a ravenous animal! Roq'ja had heard about these mysterious black-clad murderers, it was an assassin from the Dark Brotherhood!

Roq'ja ran as fast as he could into the wilderness of the Colovian Highlands, this one managed to wound the assassin with a nearby branch, but not before he carved a nasty scar across Roq'ja's eye. Half blinded, this one fled with no destination in mind. It was not until the early morning light that he found himself at the northern side port of Anvil. Safe within the walls of the town, Roq'ja began to ponder who would hate him enough to send a murderer after his life, for Roq'ja had no enemies that he knew of, no rival merchant's or unhappy customers. It was then that Roq'ja considered, perhaps it was the pirates that he had ruined those two short years ago?

Whatever the reason, Roq'ja was not safe here, even more so with the imminent war for the Ruby Throne looming on the horizon. Roq'ja bought passage to the Summerset Isles, landing in the High Elven city of Firsthold. Here he would be safe, here he would be a sea apart from his would-be assassins. It was at this time that the Aldmeri Dominion was forming, and he enjoyed warm welcome from the Aldmer who inhabited the islands. At the age of 22, he began learning enchanting from the newly formed mages guild, though, he never joined the guild officially.
**********​

Roq'ja was in awe of the amazing magicks that were so prevalent in this culture, and learned many things, especially by spending time in one of the many Firsthold libraries. It was also here that he found his first true love, a fellow Khajiit by the name of K'javi, a Khajiit woman who worked the docks at Firsthold. With her help, they uncovered traces of this one's Khajiit heritage, tracing his line to a small Elsweyrian city of Corinthe, through a family lines record book kept in the darker parts of the library. But with this comfortable life, a booming merchant business, the learning of a new skill, and his newfound love, he was not quite keen on leaving it anytime soon.

His comfortable life soon came to an end however, at the age of 23, one evening after a long day of trading on the Firsthold bazaar, he came home to a terrifying sight. K'javi hung from the balcony of his home, neck snapped and held by a rope, in her blood, splattered all over the door of his home, was a dark message. "You are never safe." accompanied by a black hand beneath the message. Horrified, Roq'ja fled from Firsthold that very night, taking whatever he could of value from his home. Desperate, Roq'ja found passage on a ship just leaving harbor, and though the crew was unsavory, he paid generously in coin to leave Firsthold immediately.

Pleading passage to Southpoint in Valenwood, he knew that his life in the Summerset Isles was done for. Little did this one know, he had found passage via pirate ship! He had jumped from the frying pan, into the fire! It was only a few days into their trip, off the shore of Southpoint that the crew learned of his wealth. Greedily, the pirates attempted to rob him of the rest of his money and other valuables. Unwilling to give up his possessions, Roq'ja was forced overboard by an unruly crew of pirates. Many suns and moons passed, as this one was adrift at sea. Nearly dead, Roq'ja washed up on the shores of Senchal, the dirty pit of a city in southern Elsweyr. Senchal was home to thieves, beggars, black-market dealers, pirates, and corrupt merchants. This one was dragged up by a fishing boat, and dumped onto the docks like a common mudcrab.

Worse yet, not long into Roq'ja's settling on the ports of Senchal, did he contract the deadly Knahaten Flu! Surely Roq'ja would be dead any day now. This one spent many days of suffering, curled up in the skooma addict filled alleyways of Senchal, coughing, hacking, wheezing. There is no pain anything like the dreaded Flu. Roq'ja begged to passerby for help, but they cringed at his approach, for fear that they may contract the disease, no one came to help Roq'ja. This one died, not a bodily death, this one died inside that day.

One dingy day, amongst the muggy smog of the port, a gold skinned creature approached Roq'ja. Beside him,she placed a vial of medicine, and prompted this one to drink. She would come by every morning and give Roq'ja this medicine. Within a week, Roq'ja's strength returned to him. Roq'ja never did learn the name of the Aldmer that helped him, but this one pledges his life to her, and is eternally grateful.
**********​

With his strength returned, and the flu's influence weakening, Roq'ja began to trade and grow his coin in the bazaars of Senchal. It was here that a customer mentioned to Roq'ja of a Khajiit mystic woman in Corinth, who may be able to help this one find his parents. Roq'ja travelled to Corinth, only to learn that the mystic had died with the plague of the Knahaten Flu. But there was news even more shocking to Roq'ja here. This mystic was Roq'ja's MOTHER!

Roq'ja read through her journals, and learned of his origins. His mother had predicted the onset of the Knahaten Flu, and had predicted that this one would die of it. And so, to save her child's life, she sent him away to a land far away, a land where the flu would not reach. In her writings, she wrote, "On the 20th of Rains Hand, Volendruung's resting place will be safe, and great shame will come because of it. A red ship will not enter, and the plague will not reach these lands." This must have been the land of Hammerfell, and why he had ended up there in the first place. In her writings, Roq'ja's mother had mentioned his father very rarely, describing him as a soldier in the service of the Aldmeri Dominion.

Shortly after, Roq'ja had set his sights on the wood elf city of Elden Root, where the politics of the struggle for Cyrodill and the focus of the Aldmeri Dominion's military is stationed.
**********​

In Elden Root, Roq'ja found good company in the Caravanners of Elsweyr, and shared his stories with the others. Finding solace in the stories of refugees and fellow survivors of the Knahaten Flu, and intrigue in the adventures of his fellow Khajiit, this one found himself at home. He had not felt this way since he left the Redguard merchants he had grown up with. Not to mention, Roq'ja felt safe with his fellow merchants around him.

Roq'ja began to make gold once more, and would pledge himself to this guild, until the day came that he would find his father, or the mysterious high elf woman who saved him. What then? He would ask himself...


It is here that you find Roq'ja, at your humble service. I apologize if my story has taken long, but you will find I will be very open with you. Though I come with an air of suspicion, as I must always look over my back for enemies.
This one's story is long and tragic, but Roq'ja feels it is the journey that makes life worth living. You will also find that I am skilled in the ways of one handed sword, as well as smithing and enchanting, skills I would be more than glad to contribute to the caravan. Many may also consider this one a master of the tongues, though Roq'ja feels that this skill may not be relevant in our adventures to come, however you will find that I am skilled at selling my wares to others like us.

Roq'ja has also crafted a map of his travels, so that it may help make more sense of his journey for you.
Roq'ja's Travels.jpg
 

Roq'ja

High Value Target of the Dark Brotherhood
This one is also skilled in the ways of finance and socio-economics, and would be a great help in establishing our system about how our guild works, and kindly offers his real-world services as well, in exchange for a higher position in this guild's hierarchy.
 

Dradin

Tribunal Temple Acolyte
This one is also skilled in the ways of finance and socio-economics, and would be a great help in establishing our system about how our guild works, and kindly offers his real-world services as well, in exchange for a higher position in this guild's hierarchy.
Easy there tiger. (See what I did there, Khajiit-Tiger... Never mind...) I appreciate the enthusiasm but your still our newest recruit and let's not get overly hasty.

As for the story, really enjoyed it. If you ever want to add a part two where Roq'ja meets the caravan leader Ri'Karav, and others than it will fit even better with other stories. Thanks!
 

Roq'ja

High Value Target of the Dark Brotherhood
Easy there tiger. (See what I did there, Khajiit-Tiger... Never mind...) I appreciate the enthusiasm but your still our newest recruit and let's not get overly hasty.

As for the story, really enjoyed it. If you ever want to add a part two where Roq'ja meets the caravan leader Ri'Karav, and others than it will fit even better with other stories. Thanks!

This one understands, of course. Though it is still far from the launch date, and this one might suggest more... enthusiastic methods of garnering support before launch, in order to assure a large guild from the get go.

Roq'ja also suggests that we develop a system long before launch date, so that the many people who participate in our guild will understand its function and enact it with full accuracy. A highly effective system for a caravan guild such as this would likely be something of a "give a little, get a lot" system.

Of course, it is good that we have much time to discuss these things, especially amongst trusted friends. This is a service that Roq'ja humbly provides, but understands that he should not appear to encroach on the guild leader's territory. Even more so, with no underlings, what difference does a guild hierarchy make? If such is the case where Roq'ja must start from a more... humble position, and then work his way upward, then he will do so.

On this note, it would also be wise to endeavor in a ranking system and how one may improve their station. Please, let Roq'ja know if you would like assistance in any of these topics.
 

Dradin

Tribunal Temple Acolyte
Easy there tiger. (See what I did there, Khajiit-Tiger... Never mind...) I appreciate the enthusiasm but your still our newest recruit and let's not get overly hasty.

As for the story, really enjoyed it. If you ever want to add a part two where Roq'ja meets the caravan leader Ri'Karav, and others than it will fit even better with other stories. Thanks!

This one understands, of course. Though it is still far from the launch date, and this one might suggest more... enthusiastic methods of garnering support before launch, in order to assure a large guild from the get go.

Roq'ja also suggests that we develop a system long before launch date, so that the many people who participate in our guild will understand its function and enact it with full accuracy. A highly effective system for a caravan guild such as this would likely be something of a "give a little, get a lot" system.

Of course, it is good that we have much time to discuss these things, especially amongst trusted friends. This is a service that Roq'ja humbly provides, but understands that he should not appear to encroach on the guild leader's territory. Even more so, with no underlings, what difference does a guild hierarchy make? If such is the case where Roq'ja must start from a more... humble position, and then work his way upward, then he will do so.

On this note, it would also be wise to endeavor in a ranking system and how one may improve their station. Please, let Roq'ja know if you would like assistance in any of these topics.
It is true, the details of the guild are a mess, but I have only thought them out without committing is that we do not have a finished product over at Zennimax. I do have a couple of ideas, I will start planing them out with you (You seem thoroughly committed) AS88, Tora and I. Our last member Jarif has been MIA for a while.

As for a ranks, I know mentally where people are. I do like the method the 107th Aldmeri Battalion is doing, (We do have a quite close relationship with them) an I will attempt to mimic it.

Right now it's 3:30 and I can't commit to anything serious until (this?) evening. Watch closely then.

As for everyone else, I am behind quite a bit on the Aldmeri lore series, and I apologize for such. It will be posted sometime just not now. Also Part one of the Revamped backstory for Ri'Karav should be out as well. I do hope you all enjoyed the necromancy tidbit. I plan on his fighting side to be a more darker approach, one of trapping souls and summoning the dead. Not to say he's evil, he is more of a chaotic good if you know him.
 

Roq'ja

High Value Target of the Dark Brotherhood
Roq'ja proposes, that since we have moved our guild conversation to a private conversation between the four of us, that we use this thread for the purpose of role-playing until the actual launch date. Four (and a half) players form a basic group in the upcoming ESO game, and Roq'ja feels that the four (and a half) of us are enough to build and coordinate the caravan.


Roq'ja carried his wares through the streets of Elden Root, the small pack on his back was nothing compared to his illustrious shop he had established in Firsthold. The wood elves here greeted him warmly enough, considering their newfound alliance, the Aldmeri Dominion, but this one could see the mistrust hiding behind the half-smiles of the Bosmer. Many Khajiit had fled to to Valenwood to escape the Knahaten Flu that had overtaken their land, and Roq'ja was happy to see faces much like his own. Though their religion and culture was much of a mystery to him though, as he had not grown up in the sands of Elsweyr, but rather the harsher sands of western Hammerfall, in the great Alik'r Desert.

Just recently, Roq'ja had met with two other Khajiit, a mage, uncommon among many Khajiit, by the name of Ri'karav. And the other, a blacksmith and bard, who seemed optimistic in the face of despair, yet whose smile seemed to hide something... deeper, a Khajiit named J'kaasha. With them, traveled a quiet and aloof female Khajiit, by the name of Khasrin, a very skilled archer, who was even more so skilled with poisons.

The four of them had met quite recently, joining around Ri'karav, who led a small group of refugees from Elsweyr. The plague that had wreaked havoc on their lands had driven most Khajiit to foreign lands to find protection from the Bosmer and Aldmer. It was thanks to the Aldmer that Roq'ja had escaped the flu with his life, and so, this one held much respect for them.

Most of the refugees were of the unsavory sort, skooma addicts and moon sugar junkies, with eyes that twitched and ears that flicked wildy. Roq'ja stepped over to his trusted caravan leader, Ri'karav, expressing his concern in a hushed voice, "Ri'karav, my trusted new friend. This one wonders, why do we keep the company of these shady characters? How does Ri'karav know that Khajiit will not pull a knife on him in the night and lift your coin purse from your cold, dead claws? Roq'ja worries that we test death, this one especially does not like the look of the dark coated one in the back, with the broad shoulders."

Roq'ja hiked up the bag on his shoulders, maintaining a tight grip on his supplies and wares, lest any pickpocket might find interest in what he may be carrying.
 

AS88

Well-Known Member
Staff member
sorry not playing ESO, It's been confirmed its subscription model

That's a shame. Thanks for helping raise the profile of this thread a little, though :)
 

Harc

Big Hog
Ah! Another khajiit guild! I don't know if the same fellow I met earlier last month is in this Guold either, but. I am Aerinir. I lead a battalion of Aldmeri warriors fighting for the crown. I and other commanders of Aldmeri units have established trading laws within our land. You require a permit to sell your goods to our soldiers. The citizens you can sell too, but soldiers you need a permit. I will be happy to grant one to you if we can arrange a deal much like I arranged with your other caravan ally
 

AS88

Well-Known Member
Staff member
Ah! Another khajiit guild! I don't know if the same fellow I met earlier last month is in this Guold either, but. I am Aerinir. I lead a battalion of Aldmeri warriors fighting for the crown. I and other commanders of Aldmeri units have established trading laws within our land. You require a permit to sell your goods to our soldiers. The citizens you can sell too, but soldiers you need a permit. I will be happy to grant one to you if we can arrange a deal much like I arranged with your other caravan ally

I believe you, Dradin and I have already had this discussion? :p
 

Harc

Big Hog
:O point a gun to my head and shoot me! Damn I thought this was a different guild! I feel like a dickhead
 

AS88

Well-Known Member
Staff member
:O point a gun to my head and shoot me! Damn I thought this was a different guild! I feel like a dickhead

You're such a guild-whore :p
 

AS88

Well-Known Member
Staff member
Hey everyone, I thought I'd take the chance to provide a little more Khajiiti lore to the thread. Considering their unique outlook on life and 'interesting' hobbies, there's very little Khajiit-based writing in Skyrim. However, there is some. :) Credit goes to uesp.net, of course.

Mixed Unit Tactics
by Codus Callonus
A book about the strategies of the Khajiit during the Five Years War

The Legions could learn from the unconventional tactics used by the Khajiit in the Five Years War against Valenwood. I was stationed at the Sphinxmoth Legion Fort on the border near Dune and witnessed many of the northern skirmishes firsthand.

The war started with the so-called "Slaughter of Torval." The Khajiit claim that the Bosmer invaded the city without provocation and killed over a thousand citizens before being driven off by reinforcements from a nearby jungle tribe. The Bosmer claim that the attack was in retaliation for Khajiti bandits who were attacking wood caravans headed for Valenwood.

In the spring of 3E 396 the war moved closer to Fort Sphinxmoth. I was posted on lookout and saw parts of the conflict. I later spoke with both Khajiit and Bosmer who fought in the battle, and it will serve as an excellent example of how the Khajiit used a mixture of ground and tree units to win the war.

The Khajiit began the fight in an unusual way by sending tree-cutting teams of Cathay-raht and the fearsome Senche-raht or "Battlecats" into the outskirts of Valenwood's forests. When word reached the Bosmer that trees were being felled (allegedly a crime in the strange Bosmeri religion), a unit of archers were dispatched from larger conflicts in the south. The Bosmer were thus goaded into splitting their forces into smaller groups.
The Bosmer archers took up positions in the remaining trees whose branches were now twenty or more feet apart, allowing some light into the forest floor. The Bosmer bent the remaining trees with their magics into small fortifications from which to fire their bows.

When the tree-cutters arrived the next morning, a half dozen Khajiit fell to the Bosmer arrows in the first volley. After that the Khajiit took large wooden shields from the backs of the Senche-raht and made a crude shelter. The Khajiit, even the enormous Senche-raht, were able to hide between this shelter and one of the larger trees. When it became apparent that the Khajiit would not leave their shelter, some Bosmer chose to descend and engage the Khajiit sword-to-claw.

When the Bosmer were nearly upon the shelter, one of the Khajiit began playing on a native instrument of plucked metal bars. This was a signal of some kind, and a small group of the man-like Ohmes and Ohmes-raht emerged from covered holes on the forest floor. Although outnumbered, they were attacking from behind by surprise and won the ground quickly.

The Bosmer archers in the trees would have still won the battle were they not having troubles of their own. A group of Dagi and Dagi-raht, two of the less common forms of Khajiit who live in the trees of the Tenmar forest, jumped from one tree to another under a magical cover of silence. They took up positions in the higher branches that could not hold a Bosmer's weight. When the signal came, they used their claws and either torches or spells of fire (accounts from the two survivors I spoke with vary on this point) to distract the archers while the battle on the ground took place. A few of the archers were able to flee, but most were killed.

Apparently the Dagi and Dagi-raht have more magical ability than is widely believed if they were able to keep themselves magically silenced for so long. One of the surviving Bosmer told me that he saw a few ordinary cats among the Dagi and even claimed that these ordinary cats are known as 'Alfiq' and that they were the spellcasters, but Bosmer are almost as unreliable as the Khajiit when it comes to the truth, and I cannot believe that a housecat can cast spells.

At the end of the day the Khajiit lost perhaps a half-dozen fighters out a force of no more than four dozen, while the Bosmer lost nearly an entire company of archers. The survivors were unable to report back before a second company of archers arrived and this strategy was repeated again, with similar results. Finally, a much larger force was sent and the Bosmer won that battle with the help of the native animals of Valenwood. That third skirmish and the Khajiti response I will discuss in the second volume of this series.
 

AS88

Well-Known Member
Staff member
Ahzirr Traajijazeri
by Anonymous
The public manifesto of the Khajiit organization Renrijra Krin

This is an absurd book. But like all things Khajiiti, as the expression goes, "gzalzi vaberzarita maaszi", or "absurdity has become necessity." Much of what I have to say has probably never been written before, and if it has, no one has read it. The Imperials feel that everything must be written down for posterity, but every Khajiiti kitten born in Elsweyr knows his history, he drinks it in with his mother's milk.

Fairly recently, however, our struggles to win back our homeland from the rapacious Count of Leyawiin have attracted sympathetic persons, even Imperials, who wish to join our cause, but, it seems, do not understand our ways. Our enemies, of course, do not understand us either, but that is as we wish it, a weapon in our arsenal. Our non-Khajiiti friends, however, should know who we are, why we are, and what we are doing.
The Khajiit mind is not engineered for self-reflection. We simply do what we do, and let the world be damned. To put into words and rationalize our philosophy is foreign, and I cannot guarantee that even after reading this, you will understand us. Grasp this simple truth -- "q'zi no vano thzina ualizz" -- "When I contradict myself, I am telling the truth."

We are the Renrijra Krin. "The Mercenary's Grin¸" "The Laugh of the Landless," and "The Smiling Scum" would all be fair translations. It is a derogatory expression, but it is amusing so we have adopted it.
We have anger in our hearts, but not on our faces. We fight for Elsweyr, but we do not ally ourselves with the Mane, who symbolizes our land. We believe in justice, but do not follow laws.
"Q'zi no vano thzina ualizz."

These are not rules, for there is no word for "rules" in Ta'agra. Call them our "thjizzrini" -- "foolish concepts."

1. "Vaba Do'Shurh'do": "It Is Good To Be Brave"
We are struggling against impossible odds, against the very Empire of Tamriel. Our cause is the noblest cause of all: defense of home. If we fail, we betray our past and our future. Our dead are "Ri'sallidad", which may be interpreted as "martyrs" in the truest, best sense of that word which is so often misused. We honor their sacrifice and, beneath our smiles, mourn them deeply.

Our bravery most obviously shows in the smile that is the "Krin" part of our name. This does not mean that we walk about grinning like the idiotic baboonishImga of Valenwood. We simply are entertained by adversary. We find an equal, fair fight tiresome in the extreme. We confidently smile because we know our victory in the end is assured. And we know our smiles drive our enemies insane.

2. "Vaba Maaszi Lhajiito": "It Is Necessary To Run Away"
We are struggling against impossible odds, against the very Empire of Tamriel. Honor is madness. Yes, we loved the Renrijra Krin who died in brave battle against the forces of the Empire, but I guarantee you that each of those Ri'sallidad had an escape route he or she failed to use, and died saying, "Damn."

When the great Senche-Raht comes to the Saimisil Steppes, he will find himself unable to hunt, unable to sleep, as the tiny Alfiq leap onto his back, biting him, and running off before he has a chance to turn his great body to face them. Eventually, though he may stubbornly hope to catch the Alfiq, the Senche-Raht always leaves. They are our cousins, the Alfiq, and we have adopted their strategy against the great tiger of Leyawiin.
Do not ally yourself with the Renrij if you yearn to be part of a mighty army, marching resolutely forth, for whom retreat is anathema. We will laugh at your suicidal idiocy as we slip into the reeds of the river, and watch the inevitable slaughter.

3. "Fusozay Var Var": "Enjoy Life"
Life is short. If you have not made love recently, please, put down this book, and take care of that with all haste. Find a wanton lass or a frisky lad, or several, in whatever combination your wise loins direct, and do not under any circumstances play hard to get. Our struggle against the colossal forces of oppression can wait.
Good. Welcome back.

We Renrijra Krin live and fight together, and know that Leyawiin and the Empire will not give way very soon, likely not in our lifetimes. In the time we have, we do not want our closest comrades to be dour, dull, colorless, sober, and virginal. If we did, we would have joined the Emperor's Blades.
Do not begrudge us our lewd jokes, our bawdy, drunken nights, our moonsugar. They are the pleasures that Leyawiin denies us, and so we take our good humor very seriously.

4. "Fusozay Var Dar": "Kill Without Qualm"
Life is short. Very short, as many have learned when they have crossed the Renrijra Krin.
We fight dirty. If an enemy is facing us, we might consider our options, and even slip away if his sword looks too big. If his back is to us, however, I personally favor knocking him down, and then jumping on his neck where the bones snap with a gratifying crunch. Of course, it is up to you and your personal style.

5. "Ahzirr Durrarriss": "We Give Freely To The People"
Let us not forget our purpose. We are fighting for our families, the Khajiiti driven from the rich, fertile shores of Lake Makapi and the River Malapi, where they and their ancestors lived since time immemorial. It is our battle, but their tragedy. We must show them, lest they are swayed by other rhetoric, that we are fighting for them.

The Mane, The Emperor, and The Count can give speeches, pass laws, and, living life in the open, explain their positions and philosophies to their people to stave off the inevitable revolution. Extralegal entities, such as the Renrijra Krin, must make our actions count for our words. This means more than fighting the good fight, and having a laugh at our befuddled adversaries. It means engaging and seducing the people. Ours is not a military war, it is a political war. If the people rise up against our oppressors, they will retreat, and we will win.
Give to these people, whenever possible, gold, moonsugar, and our strong arms, and though they hide, their hearts will be with us.

6. "Ahzirr Traajijazeri": "We Justly Take By Force"
Let us not forget our purpose. We are thieves and thugs, smugglers and saboteurs. If we cannot take a farm, we burn it to the ground. If the Imperials garrisoned in a glorious ancient stronghold, beloved by our ancestors, will not yield, we tear the structure apart. If the only way to rescue the land from the Leyawiin misappropriation is to make it uninhabitable by all, so be it.

We want our life and our home back as it was twenty years ago, but if that is not realistic, then we will accept a different simple, pragmatic goal. Revenge. With a smile.
 

AS88

Well-Known Member
Staff member
Confessions Of A Khajiit Fur Trader
A Khajiit Fur Trader writes about his profession.

My execution is tomorrow. The turnkey asks what I'd like for my last meal.

Bring me paper, I say. A quill and a candle.

Perhaps the Jarl would like a confession. I would rather pass the time.

When my father's harem burned down and our family fortune was lost to the ashes, my brother and I set to begging in the gutters of Elsweyr. I will never forget the first time we stole a traveler's purse. It was almost by accident. Just a slip of the claw and the pouch fell into our hands. We ate like kings that night. We slept in a warm bed for the first time in months.

Soon after, my brother and I took up the knife. The gang we joined treated us as the dirty orphans we were. We robbed, we scammed, we cut and ran and years of debauchery and hard living took their toll. I lost half my left ear in a knife fight with a blind drunk Argonian.

I wanted to give up, but my brother, he dreamed bigger, better.

My brother wanted to make it to Cyrodiil and become legit merchants. We had a plan. One final heist of a northbound caravan said to be filled with jewels.

Something went wrong. My brother could not stop the horses on time, and I stood helplessly by and watched the wagon plummet over a cliff. But as I picked through the wreckage, my devastation turned to excitement. There were no jewels, but there were plenty of luxurious wolf pelts, horker tusks and mammoth hides, more than enough to buy my way to Cyrodiil. I'd follow in the footsteps of so many of my kind. A traveling merchant, someone with a respectable profession.

I had all the furs bundled in my pack when I saw my brother's broken body. His ears were still warm, and I shut his eyes for the last time. This was his dream. And he would want me to go. But what I wanted, well, the caravan guards were coming. I had to go, but I couldn't just leave his body to rot.

My brother gave me my first skin. It was to be a memento. But in the darkness of the fence's cabin, the coin hit my hand heavy. Then she looked at my brother's pelt and offered three times the amount of any other fur.

Disgust caught in my throat, but did not live very long. I realized the cost of such a forbidden luxury. The value, the demand, the respect.

This is what I wanted.

It became easier. A dark alley, a gag in one hand and a quick slice across the throat. Gently hold the body as it bleeds. I became faster, my cuts precise and fluid. I peel the skin with one motion and kept the merchandise pristine, in one piece.

I became rich. Far richer than anyone in my family had ever been. Yet I was careful. My stronghold was well-hidden, and practically impenetrable. I hired the men that used to employ me. We moved frequently on less traveled roads when we hunted in the wild. We stalked the back alleys we used to sleep in when we hunted in the city. I grew so rich that I no longer needed to dirty my own hands.

Patchwork colored furs fetched the best price among the Bosmer. Argonians preferred the pelts completely skinned and tanned. Orcs prized the thick, waterproof leather of the Argonians. Humans most often bought tails and ears. I had to employ an alchemist and a master craftsman for a couple odd requests, butI [sic] didn't ask questions when the gold piled up.

And now I'm a prisoner. Maybe I became careless. Maybe I let too many secrets slip between the sheets. The raid of my fortress was a massacre. They took me alive, barely. That was their mistake. My enemies should have killed me when they had the chance.

I have one lockpick. And the northern wall of my cell is weak from disrepair. My head shall not roll tomorrow.
I am not finished with the trade. There will always be buyers. Someday, I will sell my own skin for a king's ransom, as my name is legend. And yours shall rot in the gutters with your bones.

-The Fur Trader
 

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