Zhakarii

Zhakarii was born to a pair of Baandari merchants, as the youngest(and only girl) of three siblings. They traveled a route through northern Elsweyr that took them between towns and adeptoriums, providing needed supplies.

During their visits to the Rising Sun adeptorium, Zhakarii could always be found in the company of a female Pahmer-Raht named Raksha-daro. The giant greataxe-wielding warrior was known for diving into ruins to recover artifacts and antiquities lost to the ages, and her stories fascinated the young khajiit, who saw Raksha as something of a big sister.

As she grew into her majority, Zhakarii sought to leave the Baandari life behind to apprentice herself to her idol. The adeptorium refused her petition to join, but the local Fighter's Guild was willing to take her on, and it provided her an excuse to travel alongside Raksha on her adventures.

That came to an end however, as a delve went wrong due to meddling by the Worm Cult. They disturbed an idol of the Dark Moon unknowingly, and as Raksha and Zhakarii defeated them, the last one cursed Raksha, opening the way for Lorkhan's drums to sound in her head. She tried to fight it off, but by the time they were able to find a Twilight Cantor, it was too late, and Raksha transformed fully right before them. The new dro-m'athra was then banished as Zhakarii fearfully held her at bay.

Taking up Raksha's greataxe and what remained of her armor, Zhakarii struck out on her own, seeking out and singlehandedly eliminating several of the Worm Cult's so-called nests. At one of them though she found a potential hope, in the form of tomes that spoke of calling the banished back to life.

Abandoning her pursuit of revenge, Zhakarii returned to ruins-delving, focusing on anything related to the Namira and the Bent Cats, and secretly studying the art of Necromancy herself. The techniques came surprisingly easily to her, despite her lack of magical education. One surprising find even turned up some well-preserved Psijic tomes, which she added to her studies when she wasn't cleaving bandits, cultists, or undead.

Eventually she found what seemed like the perfect lead, rumors of a Oblivion portal to Namira's realm in the Reach. If Raksha's soul remained in Namira's grasp, then it would provide the most direct path to pulling it back to Nirn.

Delving deep underground, she began to see signs of the void. In her excitement and anticipation however, she didn't even notice the faint sound of drums, or the twitching of her tail until the portal came within sight, and the drums rose to a crescendo.

The darkness that had dwelt in her heart from the loss of Raksha surged, and she could feel herself beginning to turn. Gathering her will, she drew on all the necromantic knowledge she had gatehred to try and drive back Namira's grasp. It seemed to slow it, but not stop it, and taking the brief reprieve, she fled, back to the surface. Before long, she exited to find the night sky above her, with Jone and Jode beginning to rise, full in their power. It was then that inspiration struck.

While her necromantic magics alone could not ward her against the drums, perhaps she could use psijiic magic in tandem with it. Necromancy to protect her soul, Psijiic spellcrafting to fortify her body, and then call upon the twin moons to help her reject Lorkhaj's call. It was a structure she had once read of in psijiic tomes she had uncovered - the Enantiomorph. The King, Lorkhaj, the Rebel, herself, and the Witness, the bright moons above. It was spoken of as one of the Walking Ways.

As her fur began to turn and her bones began to ache to join in the Bent Dance, she etched a ritual diagram of the Lunar Lattice, infusing it with psijiic energies, then enhanced it further with necromantic sigils to reinforce her soul against the forces tearing at it. She could feel her eyes begin to burn with dro-m'athra soulfire as she stripped herself of all clothing, baring herself completely to the bright moons' gaze. Within moments the shadows around her began to surge, as if sensing her intentions, and with no time left to spare, she began the ritual.

At first, it seemed ineffective, and she could feel her jaw begin to distort, a strange echoing yowl tearing itself from her throat. With each glowing line she etched into her flesh and fur, however, the suffocating pressure bearing down on her began to lessen. In response, the drumbeat resounding in her ears seemed to grow louder, as if first demanding, then begging her to Bend, to join the dark brothers and sisters awaiting her in their profane dance. With each beat, the shadows grew closer, swirling around the border of her makeshift circle of power. Then, finally, the last line was drawn, and the symbol she had etched into her chest blazed with blue light. The ward was complete, and she fell to the ground, unconscious.

When she came to, the drums were silenced, but her body remained.. different. Her fur had become black as night, and her hair pale as the moons. The warding symbol between her breasts retained its soft blue glow, as did the rest of the markings she had etched into herself, their azure light almost mimicing the blue lightning scars that a true dro-m'athra bore. A nearby pool of water revealed glowing azure eyes as well, though they did not exhibit the soulless gaze of a Bent Cat. Her improvised ritual seemed to have stopped her transformation, though it had not reversed the changes already wrought on her physical form. Regardless, she still felt like herself; still whole, despite the changes to her appearance, and despite the darkness that yet remained within her.

Leaving the caves behind, she spent a fortnight in seclusion, meditating under the moons and examining herself and learning what changes the partial transformation had wrought. A bit of experimentation revealed she could draw on that darkness that remained, harnessing it to transform her limbs, call forth minor shades from the Great Dark for short periods, or even with enough concentration call forth a blast of the dro-m'athra soulfire that constantly leaks from their empty eyes. She also unintentionally found she could reconstitute herself from otherwise fatal blows, much as the rumors she had heard of a hero nicknamed the "Vestige" who had taken part in the recent assault on Coldharbor.

Any doubts these new abilities cast about her true nature were assuaged once she uncovered her newfound ability to travel the Lunar Lattice. While it was only accessible at places of great power, no dro-m'athra would have been able to breach the lattice, so for Zhakarii it was the greatest proof that Azurah acknowledged her still. Despite that reassurance, her recent near-loss of self was enough to cause her to re-examine everything she had been doing, not to mention the dark path that had brought her to this point. Raksha would not have wanted this for her, she was sure, and it was time to move on.

With her new appearance and outlook, Zhakarii returned to her old life of seeking and recovering old artifacts. She also returned to working with the Fighter's Guild, though the darkness that remained left her more aggressive and direct than she once was. It was a request for help by a Twilight Cantor though that led her to her fateful meeting with a time-lost khajiit named Zerith-Var.

Zerith's story was similar to her own, having lost a loved one to Namira. His Hidden Moon techniques fascinated her as well, with how tantalizingly similar they were to her own self-taught necromantic knowledge. While helping him complete the unfinished business that Azurah had sent him back for, the two grew close, calling each other "tamiit" - though for Zhakarii at least, it was more than that; for her, it grew into love.

Freed from the burdens of his past, Zerith and Zhakarii located and started to restore an old adeptorium of the Hidden Moon, hoping to re-establish the order, or at least make a real home for themselves. They are gone about as often as they are there though, between calls for assistance from allies and friends, chasing after rumors of other time-lost antiquities, and simple restlessness.

As for their personal relationship, Zhakarii continues to leave her true feelings unvoiced. While she is privately suspicious that Zerith's own feelings mirror hers, she also knows how deeply Ravith-morna hurt him, and lets her actions and affection speak for itself until the day Zerith is willing to voice such feelings once more.

Zhakarii was originally created to be my stamina-based necromancer, back when most classes were based on magicka or stamina. (Speaks-With-Bones was my magicka necromancer.) When hybridization of stats was implemented, she lost purpose for a while, then was revived for running Infinite Archive. It wasn't until subclassing allowed me to really build into her "dark scholar" theme that I found a version of her I was happy with, and upcoming art gave me the motivation to finally fully hash out her background beyond vague concepts.

Aside from that, she has been dro-m'athra-themed since the days of Elsweyr, making use of the psijic tattoos as a stand-in for the dro-m'athra markings, which fed into the story above. Zerith-var's story also greatly influenced hers, as I find the two of them a good match, both in concept and in appearance.