Post by Lorren on Jul 2, 2008 19:41:19 GMT -5
Name: Lorren Zetharr
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Race: Bosmer
Rank: Speaker of Bruma
Weapons: Lorren carries a standard silver bow with arrows to match. She acquired the bow in her early teens when she started working for her surrogate father of sorts, an Argonian named Amueri. As payment for her first month working in his weapons shop, Amueri let Lorren choose one bow and a quiver of arrows. She chose silver, knowing that it would come in handy if she ever came across any spirits or Wil 'o the Wisps. She's carried it ever since, and even though she's had to have it repaired quite a few times, it's never failed her. She's used it so many times now that the markings on the silver are worn where her hand fits, and she's lost track of how many times she's had the string replaced. She gets her arrows in the local weapons shop in Bruma.
Along with her trusty bow, Lorren keeps an Elven dagger on her for close-range kills, a gift from one of her earlier contracts involving a skooma lord in an Ayleid ruin. The dagger is unenchanted, but works as a gutting tool just the same.
Magicka: Her time floating around to different jobs in Argonia taught Lorren that she didn't have much of a knack for the Divine Arts. Except for Illusion magic, she's a terrible spell-caster and an abysmal alchemist. The Illusion magic she did manage to learn as payment for doing some odd jobs for the local Mage's Guild in Soulrest focused mainly on concealment. Even then, the highest level Illusion spell she can cast is Journeyman Chameleon.
Armor/Clothing: The majority of Lorren's wardrobe consists of a simple pair of black pants and a black shirt, both of which go under her Black Hand robes. These robes have enchantments to fortify blade, Illusion, marksman, sneak and speechcraft fairly significantly. If she needs armor, she'll pull out her old Shrouded armor from her younger days in the Brotherhood, all of which have similar enchantments. When out in public, she'll wear doeskin breeches and a simple white shirt.
Horse: Lorren owns no horse personally, though the Brotherhood provides a Black horse for sanctuary use, which is kept in the stables outside of Bruma. The horse can be distinguished by its strange red eyes (much like Shadowmere), and is very fast. They call her Cambria.
Residence/Sanctuary: The Bruma Sanctuary was built underneath the house for sale just by the East Gate in Bruma. After the sanctuary in Skingrad had fallen into such disrepair that it was nothing more than an unwanted attraction for the Brotherhood, Sithis ordered its destruction, and a new one to be built in the city of Bruma, with a new Speaker to run it. The Listener burnt Skingrad Sanctuary to the ground, creating quite a fuss for a few weeks. After that, the Dark Brotherhood purchased the house for sale in Bruma and began to construct a basement under its foundation, fully equipped for housing a Speaker, a Silencer, and several Brotherhood members. The layout is very similar to that of the Cheydinhal sanctuary, with training rooms and living quarters across from one another in the main hall. A small corridor leads out of the main hall and to the Silencer's quarters, and next to that are the Speaker's quarters. The only access to the sanctuary is through the front door of the house, down the stairs to the lower level, and through the trapdoor to the basement. The Night Mother requires a password (Q: What is the truth of virtue? A: Madness, to the Void) to open the trapdoor that leads to the Sanctuary. The main part of the house is fully furnished, for appearances, but entirely uninhabited.
Appearance: A young girl of normal Bosmer build, Lorren's appearance is fairly non-specific. She stands at a height of about five feet two inches, with short, muscular legs that belie her speed and agility. Her torso makes up the majority of her height, and is fairly thin, while her small arms boast almost as much muscular strength as her legs from consistent bow use. Overall, her body is lean and lithe, much expected of a Bosmer of her age and activity level.
While fairly unremarkable, Lorren's face has been regarded as “classically pretty” by some, with smooth pale skin and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her lips are thin, light pink, and often show no indication of what she's feeling at the moment. Her nose is small and slightly pointed, while her cheeks are round and high. She has the normal long, pointed ears of a Bosmer, with no piercings. In sharp contrast to her skin, her hair is long, dark and straight, almost coal black in color, and often pulled back at the sides. Perhaps the most striking thing about her are her eyes, naturally wide as with all Bosmer, but also a very light blue color that gives her an alert appearance. Those eyes, a gift from her mother, are the key to understanding what she’s truly feeling. They’re the one thing she hasn’t learned how to control her emotions through.
Personality: While growing up in the Black Marsh, Lorren was a lively girl. She thrived on exploration and learning (and exasperating poor Amueri as much as possible), more curious than was probably good for her. This curiosity led to a restlessness, and when Lorren finally left the Marsh, it was with good spirits and high hope. Lorren’s excitement remained up until she was about eighteen, the age at which she finally met her birth father and killed him. Highly disturbed by this turn of events, Lorren reverted into herself somewhat, and became very quiet and polite around the sanctuary. Her only concern was obeying the Brotherhood, now the only place she could belong. As she rose in rank and became more comfortable with things in the sanctuary, her former personality slowly started to leak through. Though she’s still fairly quiet, her comfort level has grown to such that she can share a sense of humor, and her sense of responsibility that comes with being a Speaker drives almost everything that she does.
Lorren is always welcoming to new members of the Brotherhood, and does her best to ensure that they succeed. Her main concern is taking care of her duties as Speaker, looking after her sanctuary, and keeping after her recruits. While she does not worship Sithis or the Night Mother, she respects their power and serves their will to the best of her abilities. She is immensely humbled in the presence of the Listener, and still treats her fellow Black Hand with great respect.
There are few things that truly anger Lorren, and the ones that do are leftovers from when she was still in the Black Marsh. She absolutely despises anyone that exhibits cowardice, incompetence, or disrespect for their elders (or superiors within the Brotherhood), especially Sithis and the Night Mother. When confronted with any of these, her first reaction is to seethe silently, but if the annoyance persists, she’ll lash out verbally. Any non-Brotherhood people that anger her often meet an untimely death.
History: A young Bosmer in the southernmost part of Argonia is a rare sight, and were it not for the fact that Lorren happened to come into the right hands when she landed there, she likely would have died at only three months of age. The story of how she came to be in the Marsh is one filled with death and tragedy, and fortunately for her she was too young too remember. It began when a group of Necromancers, led by their master, the Altmer Henende, destroyed the city of Haven in the very south of Valenwood. With the carnage they created there, they began to build an army of zombies with which they hoped to overtake the province.
Shortly after, they moved to the town of South Point, where a young Bosmer woman named Aranel lived in a tiny house on the east end of town with her baby girl. As the Necromancers burned South Point to the ground, Aranel fled with her child to the nearby beach, a milkweed basket on her back. She was closely pursued by Necromancers, but managed to place the child into the basket and push her away into the current. Aranel jumped into the ocean herself and swam out as far as she could go, holding herself under water until she could breathe no more. The Necromancers considered her as good as dead and left her go. Henende and his army managed to make it all the way to Woodhearth in western Valenwood before the Imperial Legion stopped their advance (Henende was never found).
Two days after the attack on South Point, a milkweed basket washed up on the shores of Black Marsh, just as Amueri, a local shop owner in the nearby city of Soulrest, was doing his morning fishing. As Amueri climbed ashore, fish in mouth, he noticed the basket turned slightly on its side, still being lapped by waves. Upon further inspection, he noticed a tiny wet bundle inside with a tuft of dark black fur. Or hair, as it were…
Amueri took the child back to town as quickly as possible, and the healer at the Mage’s Guild agreed to heal her, though he was slightly perplexed. Once the spell was complete, the baby seemed to come to life, complete with a full set of lungs. Incensed at the noise, the healer had him take the baby out of the guildhall.
Though he knew absolutely nothing about Bosmer, Amueri took the girl in and raised her as his own. He tried to cater to her natural abilities as a Wood Elf, and taught her how to use a bow from a young age. But up until she was eleven months, he didn’t know what to call her, and so dubbed her “Little Bosmer.” Upon the utterance of her first words, though, he finally had a name for her: Lorren. Later research told Amueri that Bosmer have a natural ability to know their birth names, even if they’re never told.
Though she lived with Amueri, Lorren’s upbringing became something of a town project. Everyone allowed her to work for them for a time so that she could get the feel for certain skills and occupations, and she learned quite a bit about being an Argonian. Her Bosmer nature could not be suppressed, however, and Lorren’s knack for speed, agility, and marksman soon became clear.
Lorren seemed to be possessed with an innate sense of curiosity, and spent a great deal of her time exploring the areas around Soulrest (luckily for her, growing up in southern Black Marsh gave her a remarkable resistance to disease), and researching everything she could about Bosmer. Eventually though, curiosity got the better of her, and Lorren could no longer take her lack of knowledge about her own past.
With the sad realization that it was time to let her go, Amueri gave Lorren a fresh quiver of arrows and an iron dagger, and sent her on her way. Having never been more than ten miles out of Soulrest, Lorren was a bit at a loss for what to do, and she soon lost herself in the expansive forests of the Marsh.
It was thanks to her own misdirection that Lorren happened upon Wyatt Christophe, an ex-Legionnaire Redguard, or rather that he happened upon her while she was sleeping in the woods. Once he was satisfied that Lorren was nothing more than a kid who’d lost her way, he agreed to take her to the nearest town and buy her a room for the night. He left her with a map outlining the best route to Valenwood, a compass, and enough food to last her to the next town (Leyawiin).
Wyatt’s route took Lorren into Cyrodiil, allowing her to avoid the harsh deserts of Elsweyr. During her trip, the Bosmer was unexpectedly sidetracked when she ran into a surprisingly large group of bandits just outside of Kvatch (still in reconstruction). The bandits were the unfortunate victims of the Daedra attack on the city, and left with no possessions, were forced to resort to crime to get by. They attacked Lorren, and outnumbered, she suspected that her life would end there.
Unexpectedly, Wyatt came to Lorren’s aid once more. He had been working to help rebuild the city and keep order as a favor to the Legion, and was on his way back after a trip to Anvil when he heard the noise in the nearby trees. Upon investigating, he found Lorren about to submit to death at the hands of the bandits.
Outraged, Wyatt attacked, and able to regain her stance, Lorren could fight back once more. Once the bandits were dead, Wyatt realized that she was seriously wounded by an axe to the side, and he carried her back to Kvatch for healing. She stayed with him for a few days as she recovered, before finally deciding that it was time to move on again. Wyatt offered to accompany her to the Valenwood border, and she agreed.
The two bonded over the trip, and Wyatt realized his somewhat fatherly affection for the girl. Along the way, he taught her some of his tips on blade-wielding, hoping that it would help her out if she came across anymore close range encounters in Valenwood. He was reluctant to let her go when they finally reached the boarder, afraid that she’d find more trouble than she could handle again, but she assured him she’d be fine. With a wink and a wave, she continued on.
The first town that Lorren came across in the Wood was Arenthia, a large foreigner town full of people who spoke Cyrodiilic rather than Elvish, which was lucky for her. Lorren decided that if she was going to start her search anywhere, it should be here.
The innkeeper at the place she was staying at asked her about her story, and Lorren told him what she was looking for. He told her he didn’t know anything, and knowing that she couldn’t go anywhere until she at least had some direction, Lorren stayed at the inn for nearly a week.
Lorren considered herself lucky when she met a Bosmer who told her of his hometown, a place in the far south of Valenwood called South Point. He told her the story of how it was destroyed seventeen years ago by Necromancers, along with half the province. Lorren knew that it couldn’t be a coincidence that she happened to be the same age as this incident. Deciding it couldn’t hurt, she asked the Elf if he’d known anyone in South Point who looked like her. The Bosmer confirmed that there was a young girl, maybe only a few years older than Lorren was then, who had the same eyes and hair that she did. Her name was Aranel, but he couldn’t be sure if she’d escaped or not. The chances were slim; the Necromancers had taken the whole town.
Armed with this, her only hope, Lorren left immediately for South Point. It took her a week and a half to reach the city, and once there, she asked everyone she met for a woman named Aranel. They pointed her towards the east of town.
Though she could never remember being so nervous in her life, Lorren was highly eager to learn if this woman was actually her mother. But when the door opened, there could be no doubt: she’d found who she was looking for.
Aranel seemed to know instantly who she was, and she cried with joy for Lorren’s survival. Lorren spent days with her mother, just exchanging stories about their lives in the past seventeen years. Still, the occupation could not keep her from noticing the lack of a man in the house. When Lorren questioned Aranel about her father, the woman told her disappointedly that he’d left them both when he learned that she was pregnant. The last she’d heard, he was living in Leyawiin, and could probably be found at the nearest pub.
Knowing that she’d never be able to rest without seeing her father as well, and despite her mother’s warnings, Lorren decided it was time to leave Valenwood, and head back to Cyrodiil, almost back to where she started again.
The journey took quite some time, and along the way she stopped back in Kvatch to tell Wyatt of her success, and her new adventure. He offered to escort her once again, but she refused this time, telling him that this was one to do on her own. He let her leave, and she was soon back in Leyawiin, where she did in fact find the Bosmer named Borwyn at the Five Claws Lodge.
Lorren talked happily with him, though he was obviously drunk, and he was pleasant enough back, just happy to have someone he considered to be very pretty talking to him. He didn’t really listen to anything he said, and after about an hour or so, he invited her back to his house. Lorren, pleased that things were going so well, happily agreed. But when they got there, Borwyn promptly attempted to bed her.
Appalled by this, Lorren once more reiterated who she was, and this time Borwyn was listening. He was outraged at the news, and accused her of being a harlot who had tried to bed him for his money (though by the looks of the place, he had very little). His shouts grew to epic proportions, and horribly heartbroken that her mother had been right, Lorren lashed out in a fit of rage.
It was several moments before she realized what had happened, and she watched with horror as Borwyn fell to the ground, her dagger in his gut. “You b*tch,” he muttered as he fell, his last words in the physical world. Paralyzed by shock and disgust, Lorren passed out cold on the floor.
When she awoke, she was sure she had to be in hell. The blood was freezing in her veins and her head was throbbing in a way she’d never experienced before. Her cloak was soaked with blood, and Borwyn was lying next to her, a blank expression in his dead eyes. And then there was the man standing over her.
For a second, Lorren thought sure that she was going to jail. But the small smirk on the man’s face and the pure black robes that he wore clued her in to the fact that he was not a guard. He calmly explained to her that he was here to help her, to “take her home,” where she belonged. Somehow she knew he wasn’t talking about the Marsh.
Anyone who grew up in Argonia knew well of the Dark Brotherhood and their dealings. The man, the Speaker he was called, offered her a place within the Brotherhood here in Leyawiin sanctuary, but first she had to complete an introductory contract for them. She was to travel to the Drunken Dragon Inn, south of Bravil, and kill a man named Galavin. He gave no explanation as to why, merely bending over and pulling the dagger out of Borwyn with a sickening slosh, and wiping it on his robe. He handed it to her, turned invisible, and left.
Lorren fled Leyawiin immediately for fear of being caught by the guards. She wandered north, and though she tried her hardest not to think about it, images of Borwyn’s face as he fell to the floor flashed across her mind like a plague. By the end of the night, she found herself in front of an inn, and without looking to see the name, went inside for a room.
The innkeeper greeted her cheerfully, and Lorren felt her stomach turn as he welcomed her to the Drunken Dragon Inn. Tentatively, she asked him if there was anyone named Galavin staying there. He identified himself as the man, and she felt the acid rise in her throat.
Though ten gold pieces bought her a bedroll in a dingy room upstairs, Lorren did not sleep. Her thoughts stayed perpetually stuck to the man lying downstairs, the man who seemed so innocent, yet who had a contract on his life. Her brain frequently reminded her of Borwyn, of his face, his last words, the feel of his blood on her hands and soaking her clothes, her hair…
Almost as though possessed, Lorren found herself wandering down the stairs, moving on her toes so as not to make a sound. She could hear Galavin snoring softly behind the counter, and positioned herself so that she could see him.
For several long minutes, all she did was stare at him as he slept, wondering what it was that had earned a hit on his name. What did Sithis want with this man’s soul? Her whole body tensed as he snorted and rolled over onto his stomach. It was then that she noticed it, a black-bound book on the shelf under the counter. Carefully, she crept forward and picked it up. Its title explained everything: Necromancing the Moon.
Eyes flashing towards the man once more, Lorren’s movements were suddenly swift as a Khajiit as she dropped the book and moved forward, gripping Galavin’s hair between her fingers and pulling his head back towards her. Whether he ever even had the chance to wake up, she didn’t know, but he fell lifelessly back to the floor as her dagger sliced across his throat, quickly saturating the bedroll with dark red blood. Lorren left the inn immediately and took refuge in the woods.
When she awoke to the ice and the pounding once more, she knew what was happening. The Speaker smiled at her like a proud father and offered her his hand. She took it, and he congratulated her on her first kill for the Brotherhood. Now it was time to go home.
The Leyawiin sanctuary was dark and damp, and smelled strongly of mildew and mold, but Lorren felt it quite resembled many of the establishments in Soulrest. Her Speaker, an older Argonian named Hud-Na was kind and gentle towards her, and her fellow sanctuary-mates treated her like family. Lorren knew that it was the only place that she could ever belong now. This was her life, forever.
Diligence and persistence with regards to contracts got her a slow, steady climb through the ranks of the Brotherhood, and after a year and a half, she was finally an Exocutioner. It was at this time, during a trip to Skingrad, that Lorren came into contact with the Listener Kalikir. Surprised that the Listener was back from her long trip to Valenwood, and here in Skingrad rather than conferring with the Speakers about the conflict within the Brotherhood, Lorren spoke with her to learn that she was under order by Sithis to destroy the old Skingrad sanctuary, and asked Lorren for her assistance.
Honored to help with something that seemed so important, Lorren helped Kalikir magically destroy the Sanctuary with a blaze previously unheard of in the town. On their way out, Kalikir handed Lorren a pair of Black Hand robes, informing her that she had been chosen to lead the new sanctuary, scheduled to be built in Bruma. Lorren accepted the job gratefully.
Within months, the house near the Bruma East Gate had a fully equipped sanctuary settled under its foundation, and Lorren made herself a home there. Her first duty was to find new recruits for the sanctuary, referred to her by the Listener. The beds of the sanctuary were quickly filled with Murderers, all of whom Lorren was to assign contracts and guide in the ways of Sithis.
It happened that just as Lorren had finally filled her sanctuary to its maximum capacity, her old Speaker Hud-Na decided to retire. Knowing that it was now time for her to search for a Silencer, Lorren asked his advice. Hud-Na recommended a student of his, a young Argonian girl that he’d raised as a Shadowscale. Lorren remembered her from the Leyawiin sanctuary and knew that she was skilled enough to take on the job. She offered Shatan the position, and though reluctant of the cold in Bruma, Shatan agreed.
There are still many things that Lorren regrets in life, mainly refusing to head her mother’s advice regarding her father. She sometimes thinks about Wyatt and Amueri, and wonders what they would say if they saw her now. Still, she has a sense of respect for the Brotherhood. It’s her duty, her home. And she’s not leaving any time soon.
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Race: Bosmer
Rank: Speaker of Bruma
Weapons: Lorren carries a standard silver bow with arrows to match. She acquired the bow in her early teens when she started working for her surrogate father of sorts, an Argonian named Amueri. As payment for her first month working in his weapons shop, Amueri let Lorren choose one bow and a quiver of arrows. She chose silver, knowing that it would come in handy if she ever came across any spirits or Wil 'o the Wisps. She's carried it ever since, and even though she's had to have it repaired quite a few times, it's never failed her. She's used it so many times now that the markings on the silver are worn where her hand fits, and she's lost track of how many times she's had the string replaced. She gets her arrows in the local weapons shop in Bruma.
Along with her trusty bow, Lorren keeps an Elven dagger on her for close-range kills, a gift from one of her earlier contracts involving a skooma lord in an Ayleid ruin. The dagger is unenchanted, but works as a gutting tool just the same.
Magicka: Her time floating around to different jobs in Argonia taught Lorren that she didn't have much of a knack for the Divine Arts. Except for Illusion magic, she's a terrible spell-caster and an abysmal alchemist. The Illusion magic she did manage to learn as payment for doing some odd jobs for the local Mage's Guild in Soulrest focused mainly on concealment. Even then, the highest level Illusion spell she can cast is Journeyman Chameleon.
Armor/Clothing: The majority of Lorren's wardrobe consists of a simple pair of black pants and a black shirt, both of which go under her Black Hand robes. These robes have enchantments to fortify blade, Illusion, marksman, sneak and speechcraft fairly significantly. If she needs armor, she'll pull out her old Shrouded armor from her younger days in the Brotherhood, all of which have similar enchantments. When out in public, she'll wear doeskin breeches and a simple white shirt.
Horse: Lorren owns no horse personally, though the Brotherhood provides a Black horse for sanctuary use, which is kept in the stables outside of Bruma. The horse can be distinguished by its strange red eyes (much like Shadowmere), and is very fast. They call her Cambria.
Residence/Sanctuary: The Bruma Sanctuary was built underneath the house for sale just by the East Gate in Bruma. After the sanctuary in Skingrad had fallen into such disrepair that it was nothing more than an unwanted attraction for the Brotherhood, Sithis ordered its destruction, and a new one to be built in the city of Bruma, with a new Speaker to run it. The Listener burnt Skingrad Sanctuary to the ground, creating quite a fuss for a few weeks. After that, the Dark Brotherhood purchased the house for sale in Bruma and began to construct a basement under its foundation, fully equipped for housing a Speaker, a Silencer, and several Brotherhood members. The layout is very similar to that of the Cheydinhal sanctuary, with training rooms and living quarters across from one another in the main hall. A small corridor leads out of the main hall and to the Silencer's quarters, and next to that are the Speaker's quarters. The only access to the sanctuary is through the front door of the house, down the stairs to the lower level, and through the trapdoor to the basement. The Night Mother requires a password (Q: What is the truth of virtue? A: Madness, to the Void) to open the trapdoor that leads to the Sanctuary. The main part of the house is fully furnished, for appearances, but entirely uninhabited.
Appearance: A young girl of normal Bosmer build, Lorren's appearance is fairly non-specific. She stands at a height of about five feet two inches, with short, muscular legs that belie her speed and agility. Her torso makes up the majority of her height, and is fairly thin, while her small arms boast almost as much muscular strength as her legs from consistent bow use. Overall, her body is lean and lithe, much expected of a Bosmer of her age and activity level.
While fairly unremarkable, Lorren's face has been regarded as “classically pretty” by some, with smooth pale skin and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her lips are thin, light pink, and often show no indication of what she's feeling at the moment. Her nose is small and slightly pointed, while her cheeks are round and high. She has the normal long, pointed ears of a Bosmer, with no piercings. In sharp contrast to her skin, her hair is long, dark and straight, almost coal black in color, and often pulled back at the sides. Perhaps the most striking thing about her are her eyes, naturally wide as with all Bosmer, but also a very light blue color that gives her an alert appearance. Those eyes, a gift from her mother, are the key to understanding what she’s truly feeling. They’re the one thing she hasn’t learned how to control her emotions through.
Personality: While growing up in the Black Marsh, Lorren was a lively girl. She thrived on exploration and learning (and exasperating poor Amueri as much as possible), more curious than was probably good for her. This curiosity led to a restlessness, and when Lorren finally left the Marsh, it was with good spirits and high hope. Lorren’s excitement remained up until she was about eighteen, the age at which she finally met her birth father and killed him. Highly disturbed by this turn of events, Lorren reverted into herself somewhat, and became very quiet and polite around the sanctuary. Her only concern was obeying the Brotherhood, now the only place she could belong. As she rose in rank and became more comfortable with things in the sanctuary, her former personality slowly started to leak through. Though she’s still fairly quiet, her comfort level has grown to such that she can share a sense of humor, and her sense of responsibility that comes with being a Speaker drives almost everything that she does.
Lorren is always welcoming to new members of the Brotherhood, and does her best to ensure that they succeed. Her main concern is taking care of her duties as Speaker, looking after her sanctuary, and keeping after her recruits. While she does not worship Sithis or the Night Mother, she respects their power and serves their will to the best of her abilities. She is immensely humbled in the presence of the Listener, and still treats her fellow Black Hand with great respect.
There are few things that truly anger Lorren, and the ones that do are leftovers from when she was still in the Black Marsh. She absolutely despises anyone that exhibits cowardice, incompetence, or disrespect for their elders (or superiors within the Brotherhood), especially Sithis and the Night Mother. When confronted with any of these, her first reaction is to seethe silently, but if the annoyance persists, she’ll lash out verbally. Any non-Brotherhood people that anger her often meet an untimely death.
History: A young Bosmer in the southernmost part of Argonia is a rare sight, and were it not for the fact that Lorren happened to come into the right hands when she landed there, she likely would have died at only three months of age. The story of how she came to be in the Marsh is one filled with death and tragedy, and fortunately for her she was too young too remember. It began when a group of Necromancers, led by their master, the Altmer Henende, destroyed the city of Haven in the very south of Valenwood. With the carnage they created there, they began to build an army of zombies with which they hoped to overtake the province.
Shortly after, they moved to the town of South Point, where a young Bosmer woman named Aranel lived in a tiny house on the east end of town with her baby girl. As the Necromancers burned South Point to the ground, Aranel fled with her child to the nearby beach, a milkweed basket on her back. She was closely pursued by Necromancers, but managed to place the child into the basket and push her away into the current. Aranel jumped into the ocean herself and swam out as far as she could go, holding herself under water until she could breathe no more. The Necromancers considered her as good as dead and left her go. Henende and his army managed to make it all the way to Woodhearth in western Valenwood before the Imperial Legion stopped their advance (Henende was never found).
Two days after the attack on South Point, a milkweed basket washed up on the shores of Black Marsh, just as Amueri, a local shop owner in the nearby city of Soulrest, was doing his morning fishing. As Amueri climbed ashore, fish in mouth, he noticed the basket turned slightly on its side, still being lapped by waves. Upon further inspection, he noticed a tiny wet bundle inside with a tuft of dark black fur. Or hair, as it were…
Amueri took the child back to town as quickly as possible, and the healer at the Mage’s Guild agreed to heal her, though he was slightly perplexed. Once the spell was complete, the baby seemed to come to life, complete with a full set of lungs. Incensed at the noise, the healer had him take the baby out of the guildhall.
Though he knew absolutely nothing about Bosmer, Amueri took the girl in and raised her as his own. He tried to cater to her natural abilities as a Wood Elf, and taught her how to use a bow from a young age. But up until she was eleven months, he didn’t know what to call her, and so dubbed her “Little Bosmer.” Upon the utterance of her first words, though, he finally had a name for her: Lorren. Later research told Amueri that Bosmer have a natural ability to know their birth names, even if they’re never told.
Though she lived with Amueri, Lorren’s upbringing became something of a town project. Everyone allowed her to work for them for a time so that she could get the feel for certain skills and occupations, and she learned quite a bit about being an Argonian. Her Bosmer nature could not be suppressed, however, and Lorren’s knack for speed, agility, and marksman soon became clear.
Lorren seemed to be possessed with an innate sense of curiosity, and spent a great deal of her time exploring the areas around Soulrest (luckily for her, growing up in southern Black Marsh gave her a remarkable resistance to disease), and researching everything she could about Bosmer. Eventually though, curiosity got the better of her, and Lorren could no longer take her lack of knowledge about her own past.
With the sad realization that it was time to let her go, Amueri gave Lorren a fresh quiver of arrows and an iron dagger, and sent her on her way. Having never been more than ten miles out of Soulrest, Lorren was a bit at a loss for what to do, and she soon lost herself in the expansive forests of the Marsh.
It was thanks to her own misdirection that Lorren happened upon Wyatt Christophe, an ex-Legionnaire Redguard, or rather that he happened upon her while she was sleeping in the woods. Once he was satisfied that Lorren was nothing more than a kid who’d lost her way, he agreed to take her to the nearest town and buy her a room for the night. He left her with a map outlining the best route to Valenwood, a compass, and enough food to last her to the next town (Leyawiin).
Wyatt’s route took Lorren into Cyrodiil, allowing her to avoid the harsh deserts of Elsweyr. During her trip, the Bosmer was unexpectedly sidetracked when she ran into a surprisingly large group of bandits just outside of Kvatch (still in reconstruction). The bandits were the unfortunate victims of the Daedra attack on the city, and left with no possessions, were forced to resort to crime to get by. They attacked Lorren, and outnumbered, she suspected that her life would end there.
Unexpectedly, Wyatt came to Lorren’s aid once more. He had been working to help rebuild the city and keep order as a favor to the Legion, and was on his way back after a trip to Anvil when he heard the noise in the nearby trees. Upon investigating, he found Lorren about to submit to death at the hands of the bandits.
Outraged, Wyatt attacked, and able to regain her stance, Lorren could fight back once more. Once the bandits were dead, Wyatt realized that she was seriously wounded by an axe to the side, and he carried her back to Kvatch for healing. She stayed with him for a few days as she recovered, before finally deciding that it was time to move on again. Wyatt offered to accompany her to the Valenwood border, and she agreed.
The two bonded over the trip, and Wyatt realized his somewhat fatherly affection for the girl. Along the way, he taught her some of his tips on blade-wielding, hoping that it would help her out if she came across anymore close range encounters in Valenwood. He was reluctant to let her go when they finally reached the boarder, afraid that she’d find more trouble than she could handle again, but she assured him she’d be fine. With a wink and a wave, she continued on.
The first town that Lorren came across in the Wood was Arenthia, a large foreigner town full of people who spoke Cyrodiilic rather than Elvish, which was lucky for her. Lorren decided that if she was going to start her search anywhere, it should be here.
The innkeeper at the place she was staying at asked her about her story, and Lorren told him what she was looking for. He told her he didn’t know anything, and knowing that she couldn’t go anywhere until she at least had some direction, Lorren stayed at the inn for nearly a week.
Lorren considered herself lucky when she met a Bosmer who told her of his hometown, a place in the far south of Valenwood called South Point. He told her the story of how it was destroyed seventeen years ago by Necromancers, along with half the province. Lorren knew that it couldn’t be a coincidence that she happened to be the same age as this incident. Deciding it couldn’t hurt, she asked the Elf if he’d known anyone in South Point who looked like her. The Bosmer confirmed that there was a young girl, maybe only a few years older than Lorren was then, who had the same eyes and hair that she did. Her name was Aranel, but he couldn’t be sure if she’d escaped or not. The chances were slim; the Necromancers had taken the whole town.
Armed with this, her only hope, Lorren left immediately for South Point. It took her a week and a half to reach the city, and once there, she asked everyone she met for a woman named Aranel. They pointed her towards the east of town.
Though she could never remember being so nervous in her life, Lorren was highly eager to learn if this woman was actually her mother. But when the door opened, there could be no doubt: she’d found who she was looking for.
Aranel seemed to know instantly who she was, and she cried with joy for Lorren’s survival. Lorren spent days with her mother, just exchanging stories about their lives in the past seventeen years. Still, the occupation could not keep her from noticing the lack of a man in the house. When Lorren questioned Aranel about her father, the woman told her disappointedly that he’d left them both when he learned that she was pregnant. The last she’d heard, he was living in Leyawiin, and could probably be found at the nearest pub.
Knowing that she’d never be able to rest without seeing her father as well, and despite her mother’s warnings, Lorren decided it was time to leave Valenwood, and head back to Cyrodiil, almost back to where she started again.
The journey took quite some time, and along the way she stopped back in Kvatch to tell Wyatt of her success, and her new adventure. He offered to escort her once again, but she refused this time, telling him that this was one to do on her own. He let her leave, and she was soon back in Leyawiin, where she did in fact find the Bosmer named Borwyn at the Five Claws Lodge.
Lorren talked happily with him, though he was obviously drunk, and he was pleasant enough back, just happy to have someone he considered to be very pretty talking to him. He didn’t really listen to anything he said, and after about an hour or so, he invited her back to his house. Lorren, pleased that things were going so well, happily agreed. But when they got there, Borwyn promptly attempted to bed her.
Appalled by this, Lorren once more reiterated who she was, and this time Borwyn was listening. He was outraged at the news, and accused her of being a harlot who had tried to bed him for his money (though by the looks of the place, he had very little). His shouts grew to epic proportions, and horribly heartbroken that her mother had been right, Lorren lashed out in a fit of rage.
It was several moments before she realized what had happened, and she watched with horror as Borwyn fell to the ground, her dagger in his gut. “You b*tch,” he muttered as he fell, his last words in the physical world. Paralyzed by shock and disgust, Lorren passed out cold on the floor.
When she awoke, she was sure she had to be in hell. The blood was freezing in her veins and her head was throbbing in a way she’d never experienced before. Her cloak was soaked with blood, and Borwyn was lying next to her, a blank expression in his dead eyes. And then there was the man standing over her.
For a second, Lorren thought sure that she was going to jail. But the small smirk on the man’s face and the pure black robes that he wore clued her in to the fact that he was not a guard. He calmly explained to her that he was here to help her, to “take her home,” where she belonged. Somehow she knew he wasn’t talking about the Marsh.
Anyone who grew up in Argonia knew well of the Dark Brotherhood and their dealings. The man, the Speaker he was called, offered her a place within the Brotherhood here in Leyawiin sanctuary, but first she had to complete an introductory contract for them. She was to travel to the Drunken Dragon Inn, south of Bravil, and kill a man named Galavin. He gave no explanation as to why, merely bending over and pulling the dagger out of Borwyn with a sickening slosh, and wiping it on his robe. He handed it to her, turned invisible, and left.
Lorren fled Leyawiin immediately for fear of being caught by the guards. She wandered north, and though she tried her hardest not to think about it, images of Borwyn’s face as he fell to the floor flashed across her mind like a plague. By the end of the night, she found herself in front of an inn, and without looking to see the name, went inside for a room.
The innkeeper greeted her cheerfully, and Lorren felt her stomach turn as he welcomed her to the Drunken Dragon Inn. Tentatively, she asked him if there was anyone named Galavin staying there. He identified himself as the man, and she felt the acid rise in her throat.
Though ten gold pieces bought her a bedroll in a dingy room upstairs, Lorren did not sleep. Her thoughts stayed perpetually stuck to the man lying downstairs, the man who seemed so innocent, yet who had a contract on his life. Her brain frequently reminded her of Borwyn, of his face, his last words, the feel of his blood on her hands and soaking her clothes, her hair…
Almost as though possessed, Lorren found herself wandering down the stairs, moving on her toes so as not to make a sound. She could hear Galavin snoring softly behind the counter, and positioned herself so that she could see him.
For several long minutes, all she did was stare at him as he slept, wondering what it was that had earned a hit on his name. What did Sithis want with this man’s soul? Her whole body tensed as he snorted and rolled over onto his stomach. It was then that she noticed it, a black-bound book on the shelf under the counter. Carefully, she crept forward and picked it up. Its title explained everything: Necromancing the Moon.
Eyes flashing towards the man once more, Lorren’s movements were suddenly swift as a Khajiit as she dropped the book and moved forward, gripping Galavin’s hair between her fingers and pulling his head back towards her. Whether he ever even had the chance to wake up, she didn’t know, but he fell lifelessly back to the floor as her dagger sliced across his throat, quickly saturating the bedroll with dark red blood. Lorren left the inn immediately and took refuge in the woods.
When she awoke to the ice and the pounding once more, she knew what was happening. The Speaker smiled at her like a proud father and offered her his hand. She took it, and he congratulated her on her first kill for the Brotherhood. Now it was time to go home.
The Leyawiin sanctuary was dark and damp, and smelled strongly of mildew and mold, but Lorren felt it quite resembled many of the establishments in Soulrest. Her Speaker, an older Argonian named Hud-Na was kind and gentle towards her, and her fellow sanctuary-mates treated her like family. Lorren knew that it was the only place that she could ever belong now. This was her life, forever.
Diligence and persistence with regards to contracts got her a slow, steady climb through the ranks of the Brotherhood, and after a year and a half, she was finally an Exocutioner. It was at this time, during a trip to Skingrad, that Lorren came into contact with the Listener Kalikir. Surprised that the Listener was back from her long trip to Valenwood, and here in Skingrad rather than conferring with the Speakers about the conflict within the Brotherhood, Lorren spoke with her to learn that she was under order by Sithis to destroy the old Skingrad sanctuary, and asked Lorren for her assistance.
Honored to help with something that seemed so important, Lorren helped Kalikir magically destroy the Sanctuary with a blaze previously unheard of in the town. On their way out, Kalikir handed Lorren a pair of Black Hand robes, informing her that she had been chosen to lead the new sanctuary, scheduled to be built in Bruma. Lorren accepted the job gratefully.
Within months, the house near the Bruma East Gate had a fully equipped sanctuary settled under its foundation, and Lorren made herself a home there. Her first duty was to find new recruits for the sanctuary, referred to her by the Listener. The beds of the sanctuary were quickly filled with Murderers, all of whom Lorren was to assign contracts and guide in the ways of Sithis.
It happened that just as Lorren had finally filled her sanctuary to its maximum capacity, her old Speaker Hud-Na decided to retire. Knowing that it was now time for her to search for a Silencer, Lorren asked his advice. Hud-Na recommended a student of his, a young Argonian girl that he’d raised as a Shadowscale. Lorren remembered her from the Leyawiin sanctuary and knew that she was skilled enough to take on the job. She offered Shatan the position, and though reluctant of the cold in Bruma, Shatan agreed.
There are still many things that Lorren regrets in life, mainly refusing to head her mother’s advice regarding her father. She sometimes thinks about Wyatt and Amueri, and wonders what they would say if they saw her now. Still, she has a sense of respect for the Brotherhood. It’s her duty, her home. And she’s not leaving any time soon.