She awoke, exposed upon a vast, desolate tundra, devoid of memory, naked and lost. Overtime, she learned the native language, discovered she had a deadly talent for fighting, and tried to save the land she'd landed in: Skyrim.

She was given the name Whisper by the Imperials who'd captured her. Her voice does not resound, but catches on the wind; a faint, cool breeze that one must strain the ears to hear.

She is beautiful.  So much so it causes staring and double-takes. She took the advice of her Stormcloak friend, and hid her face away behind a hooded cloak and cloth mask. Since then, the problem has vanished.

She has helped many when they ask, as no task is too small to be boring or tiresome. They world is new to her.

She joined the Dark Brotherhood because they offered her a family. And when the little jester man she'd helped from the road arrived, it seemed like fate... and they left her with a warm feeling inside. Sadly, the guild was almost destroyed by the betrayal of its leader out of jealousy and fear. But Whisper could forgive. Except they all ended up dying, save two and the jester-man.

So, Whisper listens to the corpse in its coffin, aka the night mother, and gives Nazir's new initiates things to do.