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Description

Hailing from an un-soiled bloodline of Ashlanders, Ashur bears the exact traits of those initial Chimer cursed by Azura: eyes of the deepest red seem almost hammered into the man's rough, knife-hewn face. A long, almost hooked nose nestled in between sharp cheekbones overshadows a thin-lipped mouth, though lines at the corner show an easy smile nonetheless. The man's ashen skin bears small tattoos on his pointed chin and forehead, as dark as ebony and gleaming in the sun: the former the shape of a spearhead, and the latter of Moon-and-Star. Ashur's greying hair is kept neck-short, and braided in think strands, though after years of being in place, they are starting to undo, adding to his air of unkempt-ness. Also typical of his ancient heritage, the ashlander seems lanky, almost thin, though the truth of the matter is that all of his flesh is muscle, and that while he may not appear imposing, his speed and endurance will shut any boasting Orc up.

His neck bears around it a thick keffiyeh of chequered beige and black, and underneath this one could spot three or so gleaming amulets, of precious or semi-precious design. Ashur also keeps a leather cowl, usually around his neck. Of Ashlander design, it bears thick glass goggles initially made for resisting the bitter ashstorms, and when worn covers his whole upper face, revealing the tip of his nose, mouth and chin.

Under a partly open robe of faded red, upholstered with segmented thick leather braces and a belt inset with a large red gem, common among the Morag Tong, Ashur wears a light brown shirt of imperial make, wide at the sleeves and waist, and tucked into sturdy bonemold bracers and a thick belt bearing many pouches. When needed, for either business or adventure, the ashlander will don a cuirass of banded and studded netch leather over this, but otherwise avoids exhibiting this unusual armor to the locals. For trousers Ashur wears dark leather greaves, protected by steel caps at the knees, and light, almost silent boots of a most fine hide, reaching almost over the knee and laced along the front all the way to the top. The inside of the left one hides a sheath for a thin stiletto, and each sole is padded for minimal noise.

Concretely:

Name: Ashur Ilabael
Race: Dark Elf, Ashlander
Gender: Male
Age: I don't actually remember the average age of a Dunmer. He's around middle-age now, I'll let you fill me in on what that is.
Profession/Class: Difficult to say. In many respects he's a nightblade, with more focus on alchemy and magic than combat and stealth. Roughly:

Main Attributes:
Intelligence, Agility

Major Skills:
Alchemy
Illusion
Destruction
Sneak
Acrobatics/Athletics
Short blade
Light armor

Birthsign: The Apprentice

Personality

It seems his forced stay within the Imperial province has only worsened Ashur's already bitter mood. Typical of an ashlander, the now aging man keeps mostly to himself, and while not an introvert, he will only display that which he wants to be seen: an almost professional exterior, pragmatic and respectfully religious. He has never been one for quick friendship, small-talk or anything of the like, and is loathe to make friends, for it would mean opening up, and when one is an assassin, such a thing is never easy. At times he wonders if this coldness is a prison he has let himself in to due to his line of work, but Ashur knows he's not a people person, and that this distance is what he is now comfortable with.

This demeanour does mean that in the face of danger, Ashur will often be the only person with his head sturdily set on his shoulders. Quick-thinking, though maybe too quick in assumptions and therefore brash, he's got out of trouble and harm's way alive so far, a testimony that even when wrong, it hasn't cost him his life.

Equipment

Ashur has always learnt to travel light. This has been further reinforced by his preference for magic and alchemy for fighting. Not a fool, he keeps a plain ebony dagger with a chitin handle sheathed at his belt in a bland leather holster, and may on occasion carry a belt of darts, usually tipped with poison of some kind. However, Ashur always carries a large satchel with alchemical equipment: a small mortar and pestle is all he needs when on the fly, along with a few small bottles and vials of thick black glass. His already-made potions are stored on a bandoleer over his left shoulder, the small vials corked and easy to access for quick healing or quick harm, for he's learnt to harness the malevolent properties of ingredients to use against his enemies. For him, the splash of acidic liquid, or a burning gas engulfing his victim is far more satisfying than any blade sinking into flesh.

For armor, Ashur wears at all times his netch leather goggled cowl, thick bonemold bracers and his light, stealthy boots. When on a mission he'll add his netch leather cuirass, and when needed will fully kit himself with pauldrons and greaves, though such times are rare, and he feels far too conspicuous in them.

Ashur lacks any true knowledge of skills such as Alteration, Mysticism, Conjuration and Restoration, and thus either relies on his extensive skill in alchemy or magic items to fill in. Thus, he usually keeps around three amulets around his neck: a faithful one that never leaves him is his Power of Ondusi, a veritable Skeleton Key in an amulet, it can open all but the hardest of locks. Another one guards him against disease and paralysis, and the last one depends on the type of mission he'll be doing. Water walking, summoning, it all depends, but he'll keep these others either at home or in his satchel, though they'll not be very easy to get to. For rings, Ashur has one which almost makes the shadows cling to him, and one of Mark and Recall.

History

As a child, life in the Ashlands roamed by the Urshilaku is dull and hard, and getting past the first few winters is always hard. It goes without saying that this lifestyle affects you both physically and mentally. Loneliness is a common feeling that one eventually learns to harness, and mistrust towards outsiders is taught from the earliest age. One also becomes used to the worst weather of Vvardenfell: the ashstorms. Running to chase the hunt, climbing the mountains to get to a Cliff Racer nest, fighting off disease and blight, all these things change you. Dunmer of Cyrodiil are weaklings compared to the ashlanders.

So how does an ashlander end up an assassin in Cyrodiil ? A long story, and Ashur can't possibly remember all of it. years after coming of age, he left the Urshilaku with many friends to roam the wastes, becoming totally nomadic. They soon gained a reputation for raiding other farms, and stealing when times were hard, which they often were. They were truly hated, as both ashlanders and criminals, and so eventually, when the Imperial patrols could not find them, the Morag Tong was tasked with taking the head of the clan down. As a testament to the assassin's failure, Ashur lives now, almost in the man's very boots. When the writ failed, and the next one too, Ashur was contacted peacefully. He was deemed "resourceful", "skilled", and the offer of enough money to stop his clan from suffering from hunger the whole time (and they had no chance of going back to the Urshilaku after years of absence and such a reputation) in exchange for his unwavering loyalty soon led the Dunmer to the Vivec underworks to speak to the Grandmaster of this order of assassins.

The rest for him is history: the clan eventually faded away, the few men left from the originally group leaving to lead solitary lives, fed up with the system they had come to. Ashur devoted his life to the Tong, and the teachings he received of Mephala mingled with what he already knew from the Wise Woman of the Urshilaku about the Good Daedra, the House of Troubles, the Tribunal. Faith, his own kind of faith, became important to him, and he fashioned his own understanding of the Daedra. Of course, his skills grew too, branched away from the hunting he'd learned from the tribe, and focused on the inner workings of plants, organs, even substances from Oblivion. He discovered a natural leaning towards magic, and learned to harness this as he continued taking writs. Taking a life became natural to him, and when he heard Mephala guiding him, he stopped questioning previous morality.

By the time of the Oblivion Crisis, Ashur Ilabael had become a respected member of the Morag Tong, though he had no aspirations of taking the title of Grandmaster, knowing all too well how hard leadership could be. However, another man did, and Ashur's relations with the new Grandmaster were anything but civil. In the end, with the Tong's expansion and the growing feud between the two men, Ashur was "sent" to Cyrodiil, though a better term would be "banished". While he resents the Imperial province and takes little to no interest in its people, he knows that had he stayed, one of the two men would now be dead, and he truly had no idea who it would have been. Suffice to say this is a new beginning, one Ashur knows he dislikes, but will have to make do with. The feeling of being a rookie when it comes to the lay of the land does unnerve him greatly though ...

Ashur Ilabael's Story