Rakhija-la

Rimmen City serves as a major trade center, linking northern Elsweyr with the Imperial provinces. Its bazaars and markets are filled with exotic goods and a wide range of cultures. Thanks to its proximity to Cyrodiil and its position along major trade routes, it is both a strategic and economically important city. Needless to say, such a place is rich and lively — but no matter how pristine a city, or even a country may be, there will always be the downtrodden: struggling families, beggars, and social outcasts. Rakhija-la was born in the slums of Rimmen — a district just outside the city proper, close enough to be considered part of it. She came from a simple, poor family who, despite their situation, tried their best to live by the law. Even when pay was low, her parents worked honestly. They were known around the city as movers — helping merchants unload their goods, or assisting homeowners with heavy lifting. These jobs were relatively easy for the Cathay-Raht breed of Khajiit like them, given their naturally larger, more agile, and physically strong bodies. However, both of Rakhija-la’s parents had very low intellect. They were often taken advantage of, consistently underpaid for their labor and unaware of what their work was truly worth. Their poor mental faculties were the result of their origins — both were the children of incest. In fact, Rakhija-la’s parents were brother and sister. Their own parents — Rakhija-la’s grandparents — had been merchant siblings themselves who, for reasons unknown, fell in love and had children together. Despite this, Rakhija-la’s grandparents loved their children dearly and did their best to care for them. However, they passed away of old age, having had their children late in life. With no one to guide them, Rakhija-la’s parents — now adults, but still mentally undeveloped — were left to fend for themselves. They sold everything they owned below market value, failed to handle taxes, and eventually lost what little they had. The two ended up living in the slums, just as forgotten as they had once been sheltered. Eventually, like their parents before them, they too fell in love — or at least, they thought they did. Having once witnessed their own parents making love in the middle of the night, they mimicked what they had seen, believing it was what lovers did. And from that moment, Rakhija-la was conceived. But by some stroke of luck, Rakhija-la was born without any defects. In fact, she could be considered the gold standard of the Cathay-Raht breed — strong, agile, and, more remarkably, highly intelligent. As a young child, Rakhija-la quickly realized that her parents were mentally impaired. She didn’t fully understand why at first — only that they were slower, easily confused, and constantly taken advantage of. Because of this, she insisted on accompanying them to work whenever possible. She hoped not only to protect them from exploitation, but also to contribute to the family’s income. Unfortunately, being a child, the most she could do was secure them slightly better deals than they were used to — still unfair, but less cruel. Still, watching how others treated her family awakened something in her: if people saw nothing wrong with taking advantage of her parents, then she saw no reason not to return the favor. On the days she didn’t help her parents with work, Rakhija-la would follow around other children from the slums — especially the more mischievous ones. She observed carefully: when they stole, who they stole from, what was worth stealing, and how they avoided being caught. She watched for nearly three months, studying the craft like a discipline, before finally putting her knowledge into action. The first thing she ever stole was simple: two chickens from the farmer’s market. She told her parents she had found them wandering the alleys on their own. That night, the family feasted on a rich chicken porridge, devouring every bite with joy. The second chicken, kept alive, would provide a steady supply of eggs for months. It was the first time in her memory that her family felt full — and it wouldn’t be the last. When working with her parents, Rakhija-la was always cautious about when and what to steal. If they were handling produce, she’d sometimes sneak a few extra vegetables — enough to make a good soup, but not enough to be noticed. When moving furniture or working in private homes, she’d wait until nightfall and return alone to steal a few overlooked coins or trinkets of little value — at least, little value to their owners. She developed a habit of asking clients, in a voice full of innocence, “What’s your favorite item in the house?” or “What would you be most upset to lose?” — always phrased like the curiosity of a child. But really, it was reconnaissance. She used their answers to decide what to take… and what not to. Of course, she didn’t steal every time. That would have drawn suspicion. But when the opportunity was right, she made sure to take advantage. The most valuable thing she ever stole came from a wealthy merchant who dealt in jewelry. During a job, she managed to steal 3 of his many rubies — a few gem among dozens, so unmissed that he never even suspected theft. No one pointed fingers at Rakhija-la, not only because the merchant had an abundance of riches, but because she had learned to play a role. She presented herself as slightly more clever than her parents, but still naive — too simple, too honest, too much like her parents to even consider stealing. Rakhija-la continued this lifestyle day in and day out, her parents none the wiser. She started throwing her weight around among the other street urchins, particularly those who were thieves and troublemakers like her. During this time, she got into many fights, but because she was bigger than most other children, they usually fell in line with her demands. Even when she met kids who matched her size, she still came out victorious due to her Khajiit heritage—her claws gave her a natural advantage if a troublemaker pulled a knife in the middle of a fistfight. Naturally, as a small boss among troublemaking street urchins, Rakhija-la demanded tribute in exchange for protection, and it was genuine protection. She shielded them from drunk adults, troublemaking adults, other kid gangs, and even their abusive parents. She would often sneak into their houses at night and threaten them to treat their children better, warning that their throats would be slit if she had to return. Most caved to her demands, but one did not. Though Rakhija-la was just a child, she followed through on her threat and killed that parent in the dead of night. She made sure another kid took care of the newly orphaned child. When no one was looking, all the pent-up nausea overwhelmed her, and she threw up—her first kill deeply affected her, even if she put on a strong act. Still, she believed it had to be done, not only for her reputation among troublemakers but also to save someone under her protection. Following her first kill, Rakhija-la gained a serious reputation among the troublemaking children of the slums. Word spread fast — she wasn’t just smart and tough; she got things done. Even some of the smaller adult gangs in the area, especially those that kept children in their crews, began to take notice. From time to time, these gangs would approach her with requests — forming small teams of thieves to target specific items, or leading group pickpocketing operations in the busier parts of the city. Sometimes, they even employed her as a debt collector. She agreed to the jobs — but with limits. Rakhija-la refused to collect debts from anyone living in the slums. Protecting her reputation among her own people mattered more than a payout. And more than that, she didn’t want her parents catching rumors of a certain black-furred Cathay-Raht Khajiit child threatening locals over money. Still, when the jobs sent her into the city — among ordinary citizens, shopkeepers, or low-level traders — she was more than capable of handling them. She may have still been a child, but she was a Cathay-Raht, and that meant she could throw her weight around. Most people didn’t expect a child to be so direct, so fierce, or so physically overwhelming. Debt collection brought her into contact with a wide range of people — each with their own story, their own struggle, their own pain. Some were desperate, some pathetic, some angry. Some reminded her of her parents. The constant exposure to other people’s suffering — layered on top of her own — began to weigh on her young mind. The stress built slowly, like a storm cloud in her chest. And eventually, she gave in to a form of escape: skooma. At first, it was just a way to take the edge off — a sip here, a puff there, shared among the older kids who hung around the adult gangs. But soon, it became a habit. The fire it lit in her blood gave her strength and focus when she needed it… and took the edge off her conscience when she didn’t. Before long, Rakhija-la had become a light skooma addict. She started turning down more debt collection jobs, claiming she was busy or uninterested. Instead, she returned to helping her parents with their usual labor — all while continuing her petty theft and pickpocketing behind their backs. As Rakhija-la entered her teenage years, she still helped her parents from time to time — carrying loads, assisting with moving jobs, and quietly stealing small valuables from their employers when she could. But for the most part, she had her own way of making money now. She lied to her parents, telling them she’d found steady jobs that paid decently — delivery work, or helping out with city labor. In reality, the "jobs" she spoke of were her usual street crimes — pickpocketing, lifting merchandise, and small cons. But her real income came from two sources: street fighting and bodyguard work. Whenever there was a fight on the streets, Rakhija-la was there. She built a reputation as a fierce and brutal fighter, someone who not only had size and strength, but also a predator's instinct — thanks to her Cathay-Raht blood. She even partnered with a few teenagers from her old childhood gang to stage fights: throwing matches, manipulating odds, and making big money off rigged bets. Every time they pulled it off, she took a healthy cut of the profits. Her biggest fight came at a noble’s private mansion — an underground event hosted for the entertainment of the wealthy. That night, she went ten rounds against ten different fighters. No breaks, no mercy. By the end of it, she was bloodied and bruised, but she had won — all ten matches. The payout was huge, and before she left, she managed to pocket a few trinkets from the mansion, too — small things, easily overlooked, but valuable enough. Her other job — bodyguarding — was far less exciting. Rich merchants, shady dealers, or paranoid fence operators would hire her to stand guard or escort them around the rougher parts of Rimmen, she even worked for merchants who she stole from in the past without them ever knowing it was her, who stole from them, sometimes she would even steal a few extra things from them just to make her hire her more often in order to scare off thieves, not realizing she was the one stealing from them. Most of the time, nothing ever happened. And Rakhija-la hated it. Hours spent standing still, doing nothing, while her instincts screamed for action. She was used to movement, to tension, to risk. Compared to thieving and street fights, bodyguard work was dull — but it paid well, and it kept her name respected in certain circles. She was able to keep the fighting a secret from her parents thanks to a few key habits. Her black fur made bruises and blood hard to notice, and she always avoided taking blows to the head. She’d gotten good at it — slipping into fights and out again without a mark that her parents could question. Eventually, Rakhija-la made a decision that had been building in the back of her mind for years — to get her parents out of the slums. With the money she had quietly amassed from fights, thefts, cons, and bodyguard jobs, she bought them a small but proper home in a quieter part of Rimmen. Naturally, a teenager having so much money raised questions — even from her mentally impaired parents. So, she lied. She told them that during a delivery job, she’d saved the firstborn child of a noble from an out-of-control horse, and that the grateful noble had rewarded her with a generous sum of gold. It was just the kind of story her parents could believe — dramatic, noble, and simple. With their new home secured, Rakhija-la helped them start a modest cleaning business — mostly washing clothes, bedsheets, and occasionally floor mats. It was honest work, simple and steady. There were always people too lazy or too busy to wash their own linens. She personally set the pricing so no one could cheat them — and finally, her parents had real income, fair pay, and dignity. Everything was perfect. But Rakhija-la didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Stealing, conning, and manipulating had become a compulsion — not just for survival anymore, but for the thrill, and the identity she had built. Even during the night of her ten-round fight — a night that paid her more gold than she’d ever seen in one place — she still stole trinkets from the noble’s mansion. Not out of need. But out of a compulsion to steal and con, almost like her skooma addiction. Now, with stable income, no pressure to provide for her family, and plenty of free time, she continued doing what she did best. Petty thefts. Quick cons. She even began picking up formal fighting techniques by watching the soldiers of Rimmen City train, and taught herself how to use daggers with precision — a natural extension of her street-born instincts. When she reached adulthood, she moved out of the home she’d bought for her parents, letting them live peacefully on their own. But she visited often, always bringing small gifts or food — things she claimed were "leftovers" from clients or "thank-you gifts" from grateful travelers. These days, Rakhija-la lives her life in a steady rhythm: waking up late, giving fake “tours” to visitors, conning them out of coin or robbing them blind depending on her mood, and ending her day in a skooma den to get her daily dose. On rare occasions, she still gets contacted for serious jobs — heists, sabotage, or escorting dangerous people — and when the pay is right or the challenge interesting, she accepts. But for the most part, her days repeat themselves. Not because she has to. But because it’s all she’s ever known. Even with no need to steal, she still does. Because that’s who she became — the girl who survived everything, outsmarted everyone, but never stopped taking. In many ways, her life is now complete. Her parents can live on their own without much need of her help—aside from filing their taxes. As for herself, she could use some of her connections to become the bodyguard of a wealthy local merchant or noble. It would be easy money, and she could retire early. Even when she gets older, she could just apply for a job as an instructor at the mercenary guild. She's a good brawler with potential as a warrior, even if she doesn't have much combat experience outside of street fighting. Her body count is still only one—she hasn’t killed anyone since her first kill in childhood. Rakhija-la has plenty of options, and she could choose the easy life. But something tells her she won’t. She's simply too used to this criminal lifestyle of hers, to her, committing petty crimes is as natural as breathing. Brash, confident, lax, and unafraid to speak her mind, Rakhija-la carries herself with a boldness that is hard to ignore. Her thick accent only adds to her exotic charm, while her impudent nature often lands her in situations that demand quick thinking. Though she indulges in skooma, this habit does little to dull her sharp instincts or mercantile savvy. Rakhija-la is an thief, a skill she downplays by pretending to be a city guide. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she offers tours of the city, all the while seeking opportunities for harmless mischief along the way. As a person, Rakhija-la isn’t exactly good—but she’s not maliciously evil either. Her life is full of mischief and crime: stealing, conning, illegal fighting, shake-downs, and more. She doesn’t do it out of cruelty or desperation, as nowadays, she commits crime more as a form of a hobby and a compulsion, much like her skooma addiction. Crime is also something of a hobby for her. Still, she tries not to go too far. For example, when stealing from common folk, she makes sure never to take too much—she would never rob someone into poverty. The people she cares about are typically those connected to her in some way: her parents, and to a lesser extent, a few old underlings from her childhood. Even then, she wouldn’t describe herself as truly caring about them—not deeply, anyway. Her feelings rarely go beyond surface-level attachment. In truth, she doesn’t have any real friends or anyone she genuinely loves besides her parents—and even that love is complicated. Everything she does for them feels more like repayment for raising her with care than an expression of heartfelt filial devotion. Rakhija-la is someone who only cares for those she has personal fondness for. Anyone outside that circle earns little more than neutrality—no strong positive or negative feelings. Her mindset is very much about looking out for herself and her own. She’s not entirely uncharitable, but generosity is rare with her. She’s naturally stingy, and any act of charity tends to be a rare exception rather than a rule. Recently, she’s developed a taste for fine clothing and expensive jewelry—despite the impracticality for a thief. Still, all her outfits are custom-made and tailored to suit her criminal work. One of her newer hobbies involves scamming travelers and tourists. She finds joy and amusement in hearing their unique stories, even as she’s robbing them—depending on her mood, of course. Rakhija-la is very much a lax and carefree individual. She carries herself with the easygoing attitude of someone who rarely takes things too seriously—at least on the surface. Her usual demeanor is sly and smooth-talking, not unlike a greedy con merchant who’s always looking for an angle or trying to sell something to someone. She tends to interact with others in a casual, playful way, often brushing things off with a grin or a joke. However, she’s more than capable of switching gears when needed. During her time as a debt collector, she was notorious for flipping from friendly to forceful in an instant. One moment she’d be chatting amiably, seeming harmless and relaxed—and the next, she’d be cold, demanding, and intimidating. And just as quickly, she could snap right back to her carefree, almost playful self, treating her seriousness as if it had been a joke all along. It’s a tactic she’s used well, keeping others off-balance and unsure of where they truly stand with her. Despite this, her dominant persona remains that of a relaxed, conwoman—someone who’d rather talk her way into (or out of) trouble than fight her way through it, though she’s more than willing to turn up the pressure when necessary. Like other Khajiit she often talks in third person, example being "This one is pleased to meet you." She frequently use phrases like "this one" or "these ones" in place of personal pronouns, example being, "This one has many wares for sale." or "These ones do not take kindly to strangers.". Her speech can sound soft, flowing, and a bit poetic—sometimes with a hint of purring or growling undertone implied in her exotic accent or intonation. Example: "Warm sands to you, traveler." or "May your path be warm and your claws remain sharp." Khajiit often invoke references to the moons (Masser and Secunda), the desert (Elsweyr), and their gods or beliefs, though Rakhija-la doesn't actively engage in her people's religion, she nevertheless reference it. Example: "Jone and Jode smile on you." She may also speak with politeness or subtle flattery, especially in trade or diplomacy. Example: "You honor this one with your presence." or "Perhaps you seek to buy? Khajiit has wares, if you have coin." Where she differs slightly from most Khajiit is in how she addresses others. Rakhija-la frequently calls people "friend," regardless of whether they are strangers, allies, or even enemies, she uses this term far more frequently than most of her kind. It’s a deliberate choice—a method to disarm and charm, to build a sense of familiarity and importance in others. By referring to everyone as friend, she subtly pulls them into her rhythm, making them feel seen, valued, and less guarded. This is, in truth, the core of her craft—the polished, honeyed tongue of a seasoned con merchant who knows that a friendly face is the best disguise. A small note about Rakhija-la: While she can be flirty and teasing when the moment calls for it or when she's just feeling mischievous, she has never truly fallen in love or experienced any intimate relationships, whether it be actual love or one night stands. As such, she remains a virgin.

Rakhija-la is a thief, first and foremost. Stealth, lockpicking, pickpocketing, stalking—these are her specialties. But more than that, she thinks like a thief. She’s cautious, calculating, and never greedy. She knows exactly what to steal, when to strike, who to target, where to hit, and—most importantly—how much to take. Her philosophy is simple: never alert the victim. An alarmed mark runs to the guards. Guards bring investigations. Investigations bring heat. And Rakhija-la prefers to work in the shadows, not under scrutiny. Of course, she’ll make exceptions for the right kind of group heist, but when working solo, she’s conservative with her thefts—avoiding anything too valuable or too risky. Her experience as a gang debt collector taught her to flip her demeanor at the drop of a coin. One moment cold and intimidating, the next smooth-talking and friendly. It also sharpened her ability to read people—she knows when someone’s lying, bluffing, or hiding something. During her teenage years, she spent time as an underground street fighter. It’s where she honed her head movement—dodging blows to avoid bruises she couldn’t explain to her parents. She learned tricks of the trade, and later in her teenage years, taught herself more advanced techniques. She'd secretly watch guards and soldiers train, even stealing a few military handbooks and combat manuscripts to study. Through observation and practice, she became highly skilled in martial arts, tactics, and guerrilla strategy. Her preferred weapons are two curved, khopesh-like daggers, balanced for speed and lethality. She’s also proficient with throwing knives and well-versed in the use of poisons and small explosive devices, many of which she crafts herself. Being of the Cathay-Raht breed—known as the warrior-class of the Khajiit—Rakhija-la is naturally stronger and more agile than most of her kin. But she wasn’t just any Cathay-Raht—she was born a prime specimen, with superior strength, speed, and intelligence. She leaned into these gifts with great dedication, training herself to become acrobatic and deadly. Her swift, light attacks carry the power of heavy strikes, and her high-flying agility allows her to leap to great heights and scale buildings and trees with ease. Her steps are nearly silent. She’s trained herself to move like a ghost, barely making a sound—even when sprinting. Her reflexes are honed to the point where she can dodge or deflect arrows mid-flight. Whether in a fight or in flight, she reacts in the blink of an eye. From her early years, Rakhija-la mastered the art of intimidation—an essential skill for a debt collector—but she also learned how to perform. She can pretend to be a dumb brute, an airhead, or whatever else the moment calls for. Her dabbling in cons and scams has made her a master of flattery, capable of charming even the most guarded targets—though she knows never to overdo it. She flatters with precision, never desperation, though she can do it, if her target likes a desperate flatterer. When it comes to combat, Rakhija-la fights dirty—and she’s proud of it. Eye gouging, throat strikes, traps, fake retreats, crotch shots, spit in the eyes, or a well-placed bite with her razor-sharp fangs—she’ll use every advantage available, as honor is a luxury for those who can afford to lose. Her only real weakness are Fleas/ticks and skooma. Despite her tough hide, these pests manage to find a way in. And once they do, they drive her absolutely mad. Hard to spot due to her black fur, and harder to kill, they are her most hated enemies—one she can’t simply stalk or stab. And when it comes to skooma, she simply can't say no to them after a successful heist or a good day of thieving and scamming.

Rakhija-la is a striking Cathay-Raht Khajiit female, bearing the proud and powerful presence of a large, bipedal feline. Her appearance closely resembles that of a jaguar, with a tall, lean, and athletic build that radiates both grace and deadly agility. Towering at 6'7ft and weighing approximately 180 lbs, her presence alone commands attention. Her sleek ebony fur is immaculately groomed, giving her a shadow-like silhouette, accentuated by piercing yellow eyes that gleam with cunning intelligence. Her nose carries a slight pink hue, subtle yet distinctive. She possesses five fingers on each hand and four toes on each foot—both hands and feet tipped with retractable, razor-sharp black claws that she can extend slightly at will. Rakhija-la’s physique is fit, agile, and sculpted for speed, precision, and power. Her form combines feline grace with a sensuous hourglass figure—her bosom measuring 77 cm, a modest C-cup, and her curves are complemented by firm, well-shaped buttocks—neither exaggerated nor lacking. Her body speaks of an acrobat’s finesse and a warrior’s strength. Sharp white fangs glint when she speaks, and her long, expressive tail sways with a predator’s confidence. Adding to her allure is her taste in attire and accessories—she favors revealing, form-fitting leather garments that balance functionality with seductive flair. Intricate gold jewelry accents her look, enhancing both her mystique and elegance. She wears two gold rings on her left hand—one on her index finger, the other on her ring finger. On her right hand, a single gold ring with black patterned inlays adorns her index finger. Her right ear is pierced with two small, simple gold hoop earrings placed near the lower edge; they jingle faintly whenever her ear twitches. Her left ear remains unadorned. Her hair is styled into sleek dreadlocks, pulled back in a way that gives her a clean, fierce look. Gold ring clips secure the locks, which fall just past her collarbones, completing a look that is both feral and refined. And when it comes to age, she is currently in her early 20s When it comes to her attire, she wears a wrapped black bandeau-like cloth that binds tightly across her chest, leaving her shoulders, midriff, and most of her back bare. This fabric looks rugged but flexible, designed for hot desert climates while allowing freedom of motion. On her both her arms she wears a long, black leather guards with gold studs, guards extends from her wrist to her forearms, and around her elbow, she wears a simple short black sleeve on both arms, and around her biceps she wears a gold plated band for each arm Around her waist sits a sturdy leather belt with a circular, double-ring clasp at the front. Hanging from the belt is a short, layered, almost knee lengthed skirt of black panels, reinforced with stitching and squared patterns for added durability. At the center hangs a rectangular yellow cloth trimmed with black at the hem, providing both decorative flair and a hint of cultural identity. At the back of her hips. often rest two twin khopesh like daggers, with a mostly back handle, decorated with gold and a blade with its upper part being black and its lower blade edges being gold. Her kneecap area are left bare, showing her ebony fur, but she wears black leather greaves with the same gold stud as her arm wear, strapped around her shins. These provide protection while keeping mobility in mind. The greaves leave her feline paws exposed, but with a black strap across the top of both her foot for secure fit.