Zakndriirn Do’eth the Forgotten
Race:Dunmer (Dark Elf)
Apperance:Standing at an above average height of six feet and seven inches (6’ 7”) with a combined weight of two hundred and twenty four pounds (224lbs) he possess quite an intimidating stature for a Dunmer. Atop that his well-kept white-silver like smooth long hair and piercing white-silvery eyes are one of the more prominent features of his being placed upon his well chiseled but slightly scarred face which contained multiple battle scars from what seemed like close quarters blade combat. His skin is that of a dark bluish tone with a slight white undertone quite clear on most places besides his hand and feet giving an indication of a heavy use whether for combat or general workmanship rather unknown.
Personality: Zakndriirn Do’eth possess the personality of a centuries old hard rock that sits on the beach, clashed by the waves over and over again but never changing and never moving. But deep down hidden under those masks that he puts up constantly due to his work and his general distrust of other individual is a different type of individual, completely separate from the one that is presented to the general crowd. Practical, organized, not interested in theory or abstraction unless he sees the practical application, usually has an already made up clear visions of the way things should be, hard-working and can become very loyal. Likely to be in charge but generally refuses that type of position. Exceptionally capable in organizing and running activities but once again generally allows others to do that. In general he is a rather cold-hearted and logical individual who holds up many masks in-front of his face. Interested in security, intelligence and self-indulgence.
Expertise/skills: Assassination, Espionage, Force Reconnaissance, Scouting, Tracking, Sabotage, Simple Explosives, Traps. Throughout the years Zakndriirn had learned many a thing which he now considers almost mechanical in the way he does it, thoughts of what he learned always flood his mind whenever he needs it, like a photographical memory flashing very vivid photos when he needs them
Ambitions: The road is long and paved with bodies of countless numbers, Zakndriirn settles for little but the utmost best. Loyalty is what he gives but like a stubborn ram that will break through a wall no matter what he sets his eyes on.
Beliefs: "Only sheep need a religion to follow so that they may be lead to the slaughter a wolf believes only in his own merit and own claws. Damned be fortune tellers and legend makers, I make my own future."
Past Experiences: Zakndriirn’s story is quite peculiar, waking up five years ago on a mysterious beach in Summerset far from civilization and any human being he would look down in the sand and find the name “Zakndriirn Do’eth” written on it whilst on his body a finely crafted assassin’s armor and equally fine daggers on his belt. He knows not who he is or what he does, memories of the skills he possessed flood his veins when he truly needs them but he has no way of knowing what might trigger them. The last five years he spent doing what felt was natural to him, bounties, assassinations, murder, thievery and contract execution whilst in the background attempting to find out who he is, where did he come from and where does he belong.