Again her eyes flickered up again with keen interest, this time to yet another Argonian. She was surprised she was being spoken to - or at least, she hadn't prepared for it. The made hesitated at first before nodding slightly as she stared unblinkingly at him, "I too extend the claw of greeting to you. I hail from Skyrim, so I was expecting to be a blue reed in yellow peat, and yet here we are." Nyra replied softly and with a tilt of her head as she glanced at the window before continuing with curiosity, "Then again, we are not that far from the Mother Land so I suppose it really shouldn't be that surprising... do you frequent here often?"

Hermaeus Mora
Hermaeus Mora, also known as Hoermius, Hormaius, Hermorah, Herma Mora, and The Woodland Man is the Daedric Prince of knowledge and memory; his sphere is the scrying of the tides of Fate, of the past and future as read in the stars and heavens. He is not known for being good or evil; he seems to be the keeper of both helpful and destructive knowledge, although he usually sees all seekers of any knowledge as his servants.

Background
Also called the Demon of Knowledge, he is vaguely related to the cult origins of the Morag Tong if only by association with his sibling, Mephala. He usually chooses to appear to mortals as a void of darkness, or as a grotesque mass of tentacles.

Plane of Oblivion
As recorded in The Doors of Oblivion, Hermaeus Mora maintains a realm in Oblivion called Apocrypha, where all forbidden knowledge can be found. It is an endless library, with shelves stretching onward in all directions, stacks on top of stacks. Every book has a black cover with no title. Masses of ghosts move through the stacks, rifling through books, eternally searching for the knowledge they sought whilst living.
This location appears in the DLC The Elder Scrolls V: Dragonborn. It can be accessed via Black Books, which can give the reader special abilities. The halls are filled with Seekers who read books and guard the realm. Some areas have Lurkers who also guard the realm and sometimes appear in the mortal realm, unlike the Seekers.
The realm is filled with mist and fog as well as seas of acid-like water, encompassed by a dark green atmosphere. The only known residents other than various ghosts, Seekers, and Lurkers are Miraak and his dragons.

(Important to read for context. http://tamrieltales.createaforum.com/the-shivering-isles/bring-me-a-mortal!/msg10/#msg10 )

A harsh and raspy voice drilled it's way into Nyra's skull, it echoed so loudly it sounded like it was being blasted through a megaphone however she would be the only one to hear it. "Listen closely mortal because I hate repeating myself. I can make you one of the greatest mortals of the forth era or I can make you strip naked and run into the swamp singing sea shanties. It's your choice. You are to bring a fresh corpse, an empty black soul gem and the book of the dead to the graveyard at the edge of town tonight. You'll await further instructions there. Don't keep me waiting mortal, I've grown incredibly restless as the third era drew to a close." With that the voices fell silent and she was left only with her thoughts.

Nyra's milky blue eyes flicked upwards from where she sat, staring at Razeshzr rather intensely and with great interest. He seemed pretty intimidating. It was also very rare for her to have seen another Argonian during her life thus far - the others being only her sister and a select few she had bumped into Riften. She glanced at the staircase he had descended from earlier, assuming that he had stayed the night here?
'So they have rooms here, hm, good to know.' she thought to herself.

The Mage kept to herself, however, often preferring not to draw too much attention to herself. She had only just arrived in the country earlier today and she wasn't too sure what the people were like here. Perhaps if she waited, she may see more interesting patrons arrive in this tavern?

Name: Neztu Veshal
Race/sex: Redguard, Male
Homeland: Alik'r Desert (Western Hammerfell)
Vocation: Archeologist, Architect, Hedge Sorcerer: Conjuration/Alteration
Conj;  Bound Bow, Conjure Frost Atronach
Altr; Magelight, Telekinesis, Transmute, Water Breathing

Physical appearance:
Neztu is both fond of and a habitual wearer of bright colors. Thin, breathable, and bright garb being a necessity of desert life, lest one cook to death in their own clothing. What armor he does wear is sparse and covers only his vitals. These are usually hidden beneath his concealing (albeit ornate and brightly colored) robe and decorative tunic with a set of leather greaves and scaled vambraces however being more clearly visible to accompany his rather bulbous helmet. 
Beneath his garb, Neztu is a man of average height (5'3") along with a fit and durable build, maintained by a constantly traveling and nomadic life. His darkened  -sun baked- skin is a gift from both his heritage and the harsh desert sun of his homeland. His dark hair is no less weather worn and when let loose from his helm and turban therein (which explains it's odd design) is startlingly long. The thick and wavy locks even descending so far as to touch just below his hips.
In stark contrast however, his eyes are a pure and vibrant emerald (which at first glance is commonly mistaken as the source of the light within his helmet) are set in a pleasant -if not wind beaten- face which bears a long blue inked tattoo crossing from above his eyebrows to the bridge of his nose, running down it's length to his lips, coming to finish and curl just beneath his chin. In truth, the light produced within his helmet is a twin set of soul gems with small polished refracting mirrors. An apparatus which serves him as a source of light (Headlamps) when delving into caverns, and at one time, the ruins of the Alik'r desert. A pastime and personal quest that facilitated both the walking staff and curved sword that are never far from his side.

Personality:
Neztu is a curios soul. Almost insatiably so. While this curiosity may not so much extend to people, he is easily enthralled by structures and is prone to wild speculation as to it's history before, during, and after he has delved into it. The thought of whether or not it should have been delved in the first place rarely occurring to him as he is held captive by the rush of discovery. The ruins of the Dwemmer being of particular interest to him for both nostalgic and engineering purposes.

Bio/history:
[-To be added-]