Hands-Eyes-Ears

Character Name: Hands-Eyes-Ears

Nickname(s): The Silencer

Race: Saxhleel (Argonian)

Sex: Male

Age: 37

Birthplace: Archon, Black Marsh









Height: 6'0

Weight: 160lb

Eye Color: Glowing Orange

Hair Color: His horns are bone-yellow

Hair Style: Two stubby horns sticking upwards, two lengthy horns protruding out backwards.

Facial Hair: Three stubby horns sticking out in a sideburn formation.

Skin Color: Black

Build: Hands-Eyes-Ears is built with agility and dexterity, but is not lacking in muscularity.

Distinguishing Features: Aside from his unusually dark scales, he speaks in an rather deep voice and has a penchant for being rather cynical and sarcastic.



Profession: Silencer for the Dark Brotherhood in Corinth

Skills: Hand-to-Hand, Alchemy, Small Blades, Sneak

Magic: Hands-Eyes-Ears knows of Illusion magic only, and rarely utilises anything other than expert chameleon spells.

Training: As a shadowscale (of sorts), he was given elite stealth training and masterful blade training, due to it suiting his style. In the Dark Brotherhood, he has learned of Illusion magic and of Alchemy, and uses both to create distractions to help him get closer to targets and clients if need be. Experience has served him better than training, as he has become familiar with the right approaches, right distractions and right executions. His bare hands have proven to be more deadly than most weapons, having killed many of his victims via strangling or battery.

Other Abilities: Being born under The Shadow sign, stealth comes more naturally to him and he seems to blend in more to the shadows; he's a forgetful face despite his uniqueness.

Apparel: When outside the sanctuary or not on a mission, he dons a pair of green-brown sack cloth pants. When hunting a target or in the sanctuary, he dons a set of Studded Shrouded Armour crafted by a former member of the Dark Brotherhood in Morrowind and a special Shrouded Mask that only allows his eyes to be seen as well as a belt to carry items and a holster and quiver for his bow and arrows. When either on task or not, he sometimes wears a black leather traveling bag which contains a variety of useful items (e.g. alchemical ingredients, ready-made poisons, scrolls, poisoned apples, etc.) as well as water and sustenance.

Weaponry: The Blade of Sorrow, sister blade to the Blade of Woe's newer form in both appearance and enchantment. The blade appears to be a Mithril one and the handle is a dyed-Blue Leather.

He also possesses an Akaviri Katana, a trophy from a contract of his who was believed to be a former blade, or descendant of one.

Other Equipment: Metallic Water Canteen, Pouch of Food, Coin Purse, Various Poisons, Poisoned Apples

Companions: None.



Affiliation: Corinth Dark Brotherhood

Religious Belief: Hail Sithis!

Sexual Preference: Heterosexual

Relationship Status: Single

Personality: Hands-Eyes-Ears was brought up to look at death as a business, not a tragedy. This is not to say he's insensitive or cold, but he sees it as a necessity; people need to die to make room for people to be born. People often label his as cynical due to his view on the world, and his speech often comes across as sarcastic or pessimistic. Earning so much from piling up corpses has humbled him and made him value monetary wealth less, and his willpower against using drugs, especially Hist, is surprisingly high. Intelligence wise, he's cunning and astute, often devising schemes that leave people in awe with how brilliant they are.



Hands-Eyes-Ears was born under the sign of The Shadow, and was brought up as what he understood to mean "Shadowscale"; in truth, the real Shadowscales had been long destroyed and now it was just a term for a member of the nobility's personal assassin. Nevertheless, he was brought up in the mindset that murder was to be his life; a prophecy which turned out to be self-fulfilling. From birth, he was trained in the elite arts of subterfuge and the consummate machinations of combat. By the age of sixteen, he'd early killed two high-ranking targets for his master. Time would see many more corpses line the wretched filth of Black Marsh in the years to come, angering many...

It eventually came to be that his master would pass on after meeting the blade of an equally skilled assassin as Hands-Eyes-Ears. His master was mourned by few due to his nature as a corrupt tyrant, and Hands-Eyes-Ears himself cared not when he discovered his bleeding carcass. The assassin who ended life, however, seemed to have the shadowy argonian in his sights too, and Hands-Eyes-Ears was forced to move from town to town in the coming years. Each of the sordid towns had their own respective underworld to which he advertised his services to, but he never kept any long-term employers due to constantly being on the move.

It seemed as his skills became more honed, his stalker's did too. They often fought, though neither got close to ending the other's life and Hands-Eyes-Ears would always slip away in the end. He needed protection, or else he feared this persistent madman would surely drive him into the ground or drive him insane. It seemed he was in luck... mysterious forces of darkness had seen to it that a brotherhood of like-minded corpse-dealers had their eye on him. When he began to travel out of Black Marsh and into Elsweyr, he was given a letter; a black handprint on dry parchment. Hands-Eyes-Ears had heard legends of the former glory of the Dark Brotherhood, and recognised this symbol as their own... was he being hunted by them?

One day he awoke to find a leather-donning Khajiit looking at him as he slept, and he awoke with shock and drew his dagger. The mangy beast made no attempts to attack him or get close to him, but gave him a rather intricate invitation to join their ranks. The young argonian fell to his knees and laughed. In the doorway where the Khajiit stood was his stalker, here to finish the job at last. The enigmatic madman lowered his leathery hood and grinned; he too was a member of the Brotherhood's ranks. Hands-Eyes-Ears was confused, almost delirious, with shock. Things seemed to fade out and he awoke in a sanctuary of sorts. It seems his armour had been... changed, somehow. The once-brown leather was dark, coarse and studded, seething with evil energy. The group explained who they were and why they wanted him. They would've asked him to kill a target to prove his worth, but his stalker had seen to observing his skill and dedication. From that day forward, with what little choice he had, he only killed in the name of Sithis.

His fellow members taught him well; the mage taught him of Illusion magic and the alchemist of tailoring poisons and their antidotes. At last, he finally felt at home. Several contracts later, he was a respected member of their group, and he showed real promise. Despite the humbling weakness of the Dark Brotherhood in this era, he returned some of the fear that arose from hearing their name, his finest contract being the murder of an Imperial politician; it caused a massive stir in Imperial politics and dealt the Empire a hefty blow. Years passed and one fateful moon-lit night, he was visited by the robed-stalker once more. It became apparent who he was at this point, and who Hands-Eyes-Ears would be for him. The man admired his dedication for Sithis and the artistic license he demonstrated in his murders, wanting for him to be his personal right-hand man; his silencer. From that day fourth, he was a stoic, fearsome assassin who's name even made the Corinth Sanctuary's members shiver, and to this day he serves his speaker as a tool more powerful than any blade, bow, poison or spell.