Hello, My name is Do'Karo Z'Marri. I am a Khajiit, but I wasn't born in my family's home; Elsweyr. I am from the Nordic Province: Skyrim. Ironic isn't it. A cat in a human world, but that is most of Tamriel. I was born on the 25th day of The First Seed 4E 185. I was born poor and we didn't have a house. Well, we did, in the plains of The Pale, but it was taken by bandits and we have been taking shelter at an Inn titled: "The Bannered Mare."
I didn't remember much as a baby, but what I did remember was the InnKeeper known as Hulda. She was very nice, to me and my family. But there is a darkness to every light. We were welcomed with open arms, but some arms were closed and crossed.
There were two big clans in the hold we were seeking shelter in. These being Clan Gray-Mane, and Clan Battle-Born. The Battle-Borns were welcoming us with so much hospitality, but the Gray-Manes, they looked at me and my family like we were a group of Skeever, picking around for scraps and trying to get anything we could get our paws on. But we weren't like that. We were forced into poverty, from those who forced themselves into riches. And those bandits were nords now that I remember.
A few months went by and we could barely pay for the room we were renting at the Inn. Hulda was getting a bit heated. I could see it. A few more weeks went by and we eventually couldn't make up for our rent for the room. We were kicked out and was forced to live in the streets of Whiterun. There was also a man, who looked like he could use a few less bottles of skooma. My family was scared of him, that he would try to take me and use me for money.
A few years went by, we were able to make some money working for Adrianne Avenicci and Ulfberth War-Bear at the forge. My parents weren't fond of it, but me and my brothers were having a blast making daggers, hammers, tongs, and the like. And we were being paid for it. And she wasn't bad at all, she paid us fairly and was a huge help for me and my family. For every steel ingot each of us smelted, forged into daggers, and even sharpened, that one would get 20-30 septims, depending on the sharpness, comfort, and lethality of the blade.