Sathis Hlaalu

Name: Sathis Ovemin Hlaalu

Age/DOB: 26, 24th of Sun’s Dawn, 3E 414

Race: Vvardenfel Dunmer (Dark Elf)

Sex: Male

Eyes: Red

Hair: Black

Height/Weight: 5’9, 176 lbs.

Appearance: Sathis wears his hair down, and the dark strands stop level with his chin. His long pointed ears stretch from beneath his hair, adorned with many piercing as is common among some Dunmer tribes in Vvardenfel. Most of his blue skin is covered by clothing: he often wears a red tunic with Daedric script scribed along the hem of the sleeves as his way of paying homage to his homeland, and simple black pants stretch from beneath the tunic, usually tucked into the hem of his heavy leather boots.

Weapons:
--Hylian Spear-- Spear, of Hyrule; 6’ overall, 8” blade; The standard spear of a Hylian guard, customized to Sathis’ liking. Wrapped steel haft with tempered steel pommel and blade. Wide tip is optimal for thrusting, able to punch through chain mail, but blade can also be used for slashing. Small spike on pommel.
--Madsblood-- Sword, of the Shivering Isles (gift from Sheogorath) 22” overall, 14” blade, 8” handle; Sidearm made of Madness Ore from the Shivering Isles. Enchanted to cause immediate freezing on contact with an enemy; can freeze armor to make it easily breakable, or limbs to shatter them away. Has limited charge.
--Nordic Silver Longsword-- Sword, of Solstheim, Tamriel; 34” overall, 22” blade, 12” handle; Made of tempered silver, handle wrapped in leather with ornate hilt and pommel.
--Gondorian Crossbow-- One-handed crossbow, of Minas Tirith, Middle-Earth; 18” overall; Designed for one-handed wielding. Compound structure allows for high poundage in compact weapon. Full draw weighs at 70lbs., which is sufficient to fire a bolt through steel plate armor.

Armor:
Head:
--Native Bonemold Helm
Torso:
--Bonemold Cuirass
Arms:
[Right/Left]
--Imperial Chain Pauldrons
Hands:
[Right]
--Hand of Faviron (leather)-- Unknown origins. Increases the wearer’s speed and strength to aid in battle.
--Bonemold Bracer
[Left]
--Chainmail Gauntlet
Legs:
[Right/Left]
--Bonemold Greaves
Feet:
--Elvensteps (leather)-- Elven leather covered in green decorative cloth, woven by the elves of Lothlorien, custom-made for Sathis Hlaalu. It silences the footsteps and lightens the wearer’s footfalls, leaving no tracks.
Shield:
None

Strengths: Sathis is a very intelligent individual, and his training has given him a skill for predicting the movements of his opponents. He is adept at seeing through ruses that other warriors might not uncover until it is too late to save them. His skill for understanding the physics of combat also allows him to quickly calculate the path and momentum of a swing or projectile, and adjust his maneuvers as necessary.

His second strongest suit, though not by far, in his combat style is his agility. He is very limber and quick, and in combination with his training, this proves fruitful on the battlefield. His fast-paced mind allows him to spot a way out of a nasty situation, and his agile body allows him to reach it. Unfortunately, this kind of limber activity takes a toll on his body, and he cannot maneuver so quickly for long; he is only human (or rather, Dark Elven). The benefits of this are obvious from a defensive standpoint, but the benefits for the offensive are every bit as rewarding. Sathis finds that he has a treasured ability to quickly identify the weaknesses of his enemy, such as the bending point in their armor or a recent injury. His tactical skills cause his mind to hone in and focus on these things, and because of his agility, he is able to outmaneuver his opponents and seize upon their weak points before they are able to stop him. For example, if an enemy swordsman is armored heavily, but wearing only leather at the fold under his arm, then Sat his would dodge past the oncoming sword slash and thrust through the leather before the momentum of the swordsman’s swing passed. It is an effective form of combat; it is just as perfect for Sathis as he is for it.

Weaknesses: Because of his preference for agility and speed, he dislikes the heavier types of armor. Because he is not particularly strong or imposing, his armor might not always be enough to spare him the damage of a heavy swing should he be found too slow to escape. This is partially why he relies on outsmarting and outmaneuvering his enemies; in a toe-to-toe fight that involves exchanging blow for blow, he cannot hope to win.

Additionally, the amount of thought that goes into his next move in battle can occasionally take too much time. If he pauses too long for thoughts of his next attack, an oncoming arrow might slip past his defenses and overpower the protection of his armor. His form of combat is a dangerous game, and though the risks are severe, Sat his believes that this is what makes it all the more important that he play the game well.

Personality: As a well-educated individual, Sat his can occasionally be considered a suave charmer. Because of his exposure to other cultures, he has been able to overcome his raspy accent and voice, and speaks in a more eloquent style than most Dunmer. He relies on his smarts to defuse certain situations. His guile is one of the attributes of himself that he values most, and even in common conversation, he can gather information from individuals; his mind is able to siphon bits and pieces of valuable information from the standard commonspeak and log it away for future reference.

His mind is analytical and deep. Outside of battle, he finds that one of the things that truly garners his interest is the study of religion and profound philosophy. In his travels, when not searching for the prized items for which he hunts, he can be found reading or conversing with locals and scholars about the beliefs of the land. Studying is one of his most common pastimes, as is writing and composing musical pieces on his precious lute.

Sathis has never been in the type of relationship he desires most. He hopes that, someday, his travels will lead him to a woman with whom he can truly share himself. This thought is one of the most common for him, as well as one of the most painful. And yet, while some days he spends time wishing for this relationship and even feels desperate for it, he often shies away from opportunities with women for fear of falling in with the wrong one, and later missing his true love.

In contrast with the way he presents himself, he also often suffers with a lack of confidence, and a marred self-image. Though he cannot deny his true passion for hunting for religiously sacred and historically significant artifacts, he often sees himself as a thief for the things he has done. In his profession, he rarely wrestles with the moral decisions he must make, because he sees right and wrong as clearly as black and white; his upset stems from the fact that he finds himself frequently doing wrong in order to ascertain the artifact for which he searches. It is not entirely the fact that he does wrong in order to obtain it that bothers him, but rather the fact that he is willing to do so, and that it bothers him so little.

Additionally, Sathis is victim to borderline paranoia, in that he never feels truly safe or secure. Although he is often quick to trust and eager to get to know others, he never trusts completely (another feature which links to hisw relationship longing) and rarely ever exposes his own frailties, even to his closest friends. Though his paranoia may be well-founded (his profession has earned him an abundance of enemies), and even useful at times, it tends to leave him with an alone and empty feeling in addition to his other emotional complexes.

Finally, he occasionally experiences temporary bouts of insanity. He is not crazy, rather very far from it; it is as though he decides to do something particularly insane, and travels that path diligently until the action is done. It is a strange thing to see such an immensely intelligent individual do. It is little known to those around him that this is because of his dedication to Sheogorath, the Daedric god of madness; it is unknown even to himself whether he does these things compulsively, or as a result of some form of Sheogoroath's divination.

Skills/Magic:
--Summon Ancestor Ghost-- For a short period of time, after uttering a phrase and making a hand motion, a ghost of one of Sathis’ ancestors will appear to aid him in battle, including casting spells and attacking physically.
--Summon Golden Saint-- Summons a Golden Saint, Sheogorath’s chosen guardians, to fight with him for a short time. Golden Saints attack with swords and shields, and are furious, relentless warriors.
--Grace of Lothlorien-- A minor healing spell that can mend torn flesh and otherwise quicken the natural healing process.
--Blaze-- A ring of fire flares outwards from Sathis, including a shockwave that can knock foes back. It can be charged to be more powerful; the longer it is charged, the more powerful it is, but the more taxing the spell becomes.
--Vortex-- A furious twister slams into the ground, throwing debris and possibly foes if properly cast. It can be used as an area spell with Sathis in the middle, or it can be focused on a single point or person, to ravage them until the duration of the spell runs out. This spell can be charged as well.
--Loud Sound-- This is an instant spell that, upon hand signal, emits an ear piercing sound in the area around Sathis. It is designed to confuse and disorient the enemy, also capable of stunning them.
--Silence-- This spell, at great taxation of Sathis’ energy, is used on an enemy to stop all casting from that point forward. The spell lasts three minutes at maximum but can be cast in lesser durations.
--Fire Arrows-- Charges the bolts loaded into Sathis’ crossbow with magical Hylian fire. These bolts can set fire to their target with an almost explosive impact.

Background:
[This background is terribly long. It contains all the important details of who Sathis is and why. You’ve been warned.]

The land of Vvardenfel was closed to trade and under the self-rule of the Tribunal Temple and local governments for hundreds of years, even while in the Tamreillic Empire. But when the island was opened to trade and settlement by King Llethan in mainland Morrowind, and the Treaty of the Armistice was brushed aside, the once undeveloped island of Vvardenfel was economically besieged by outlanders, including Imperial settlers, the Legion and other factions, and Great House Dunmer.

Two of such Dunmer were Arethan and Drevela Hlaalu. Arethan was a warrior-turned-politician in the Great House Hlaalu, who met and fell in love with Drevela upon joining the faction. Drevela, daughter of the House Father, was always there with the loving touch to keep a curb on Arethan’s harsh and cut-and-dry political views. When Vvardenfel opened to settlement, Arethan and Drevela moved promptly to support their Great House, and helped establish the city of Balmora, which was to become central in the affairds of House Hlaalu.

Later that year, Drevela gave birth to Arethan’s first son, Sathis Ovenum Hlaalu. The city of Balmora was a sturdy, stable environment for the boy; he grew up happily in the city, just as the city grew around him. His childhood was uneventful, filled with education and studies as all the children of the time, and no great tragedies to speak of. At age twelve, Sathis’ profound performance in schooling earned him a novice seat in House Hlaalu, where he studied under his parents and their associates in the ways of politics and land bargaining.

At age eighteen, Sathis’ adventurous spirit began to blossom. With his education complete, he spent his spare time working for the local Fighter’s Guild. He had learned the basics of combat from his father and other House Hlaalu warriors, but the Fighter’s Guild held a certain allure to him that he could not deny. So, his combat prestige grew with each contract, as did his coinpurse. He would do a contract, earn the gold, and purchase better equipment with it. It was a routine he had come to love. In the midst of doing these contracts, he found another passion: relic hunting.

In one of the contracts, he was assigned to retrieve a glove of some kind from a distant cave. He had no trouble with the creatures of the cave, but when he found the glove, he was astonished. It shimmered in the light of his torch, and he found it most interesting; he put it on, just in curiosity. It fit to his right hand perfectly; it even fit beneath his gauntlet. When he wore the leather glove, he found that his arm, as well as the rest of him, moved much faster. He was able to swing his sword quicker, more powerfully, and draw it back with less recoil. It was incredible to him. And so, he decided that the glove was a greater prize than the gold, and secretly defaulted on the contract. He told his quest-giver that the glove was not in the cave, and he could not find it. It temporarily stopped his advancement in the guild, but he had found something much more worthwhile, even more so than the glove: a new hobby, and a new profession.

But he still had a career to think about in House Hlaalu, so he put it to use. He used the Hlaalu library to research the strange glove, and discovered it was nearly a century old, used by a great warrior to slay an entire faction on his own. It was fascinating to him, and he began to wonder of the other glove. Perhaps someday, he hoped to find it.

He never picked up his profession in the Fighter’s Guild. Great House politics soon became too demanding, and a territorial war was brewing amongst them. Then, just after his twenty-first birthday, the fabled Blight curse returned to Vvardenfel. The terror of the local Dunmer had returned.

The population of Vvardenfel was decimated, and both of Sathis’ parents were among the dead. First his mother, sick with the Blight, died, and then his father, who stormed the Ghostgate to find a cure, died of Ash Cancer. Sathis found himself immediately managing their places in House Hlaalu, his life absorbed by politics. To ease the hatred for his life, he began to read fervently. He would study religion, philosophy, strategy; anything that required deep thought interested him, to help him escape reality.

A few months later, he met a Wood Elf woman named Gadren. She was a fresh recruit to House Hlaalu, and an associate of the Tribunal Temple. At first, she was nothing more than a source to him; just the means with which to acquire the knowledge of the Temple. But they became good friends as she advanced through the House, and Sathis began to take an interest.

But he could not understand why she bought into the Temple. “Those three are not gods,” he would say to her so often. “They are just wizards who did great things, and deemed themselves holy!” Of course, Gadren never listened. But then, just after his twenty-second birthday, the so-called Neravarine killed Dagoth-Ur, ended the Blight, and took down with him the Tribunal Temple. He uncovered that one god, Sotha Sil, was murdered by another, Almalexia. After Nerevar killed her, the third and final god of the Temple, Vivec, vanished entirely, and Nerevar left the Empire.

“You see?” Sathis said. “Your gods were nothing more than mortals, waiting to be killed.” Of course, Gadren was stunned, and began to listen to Sathis more and more. They began to study other religions together, as well as histories and myths and legends and war tactics and other things. Sathis suddenly had a friend who was interested in everything he was, including the Great House politics. Soon, Sathis and Gadren fell in love.

Life and love for Sathis was wonderful at that point, but it was shortlived. They discovered the wonders of Daedra worship together, and both fell into it. Sathis was interested in the knowledge and the magic, but Gadren was interested in something else. Gadren eventually deserted Sathis without even saying goodbye, and he later discovered that she had left him to join a necromancer cult. She must have deserted him so suddenly because she knew he hated necromancy. Nonetheless, he was crushed and wounded.

With that, he announced his resignation of active duty to House Hlaalu, and prepared for his departure of Vvardenfel. With no more ties to home, he was free to leave and indulge his passions. He boarded a ship of similar wanderers, and left the known world.

Months of sailing followed. Sathis nearly forgot what land was like as he grew accustomed to the wiles of life at sea. Then, just as the sun reached its height, they landed at port in a new world for Sathis to explore. He quickly hired a translator, and learned the locals’ name for their land: Hyrule.

At first, Hyrule seemed like a glorious place. But Sathis felt as though he did not want to remain there for long. He wanted to pursue his preference and be gone. And so, he made way to a small town called Kakariko Village, where he and his translator began to make conversation with others.

Of course, it quickly became clear that the locals disliked speaking to him through a translator. So he learned what he could from the man, and set out on his own to learn the language himself. Over the course of three months, he learned the language solidly enough to hold a conversation with a native, and he left his temporary residence in Kakariko to travel to the Castle Town Market, where he heard the information was positively overflowing. There, his conversational skills enabled him to learn a great many things; most notably, that there was some kind of a temple nearby that held a precious treasure.

Sathis wasted no time at all in making to the temple. He cared little for conversing with the locals anyway; they did not seem to like him, likely due to his blue skin (something most there had never seen before). So he departed and made way for the lake, where the temple was said to be. However, when he arrived, he realized that the temple was not near the lake, it was beneath it, and he had no way of accessing it. He searched the area for a tunnel or a secret door, but found nothing. Enraged, he leaned against a nearby tree to calm himself.

Then he saw it. On a small plaque to his right, carved into a stone, read the phrase, “When water fills the lake, shoot for the morning light.” The lake looked full enough to him. Glancing into the sky, he could tell that it was less than an hour until noon-- the time at which the sun was highest. Eagerly, he pulled his crossbow from his pack and loaded it, waiting for the time to be right.

Once the sun was in the proper place, he fired. His bolt soared into the sky, and a peculiar thing happened. Instead of the bolt falling and striking the cliff in the distance like it should have, another bolt was fired toward him in reply. It stuck into the ground on a small island a short swim away. When he made it there, he pulled the bolt from the ground, and looked it over. The tip was red, but not painted red; rather, it was red-hot, as though the metal had been heated. When he touched it, it burned his finger, and he withdrew in surprise.

He quickly loaded it into his crossbow and aimed it. When the string reached draw and his finger touched the trigger, flames exploded from the tip of the bolt in a ring around the end. He fired into a nearby tree, and the flames wrapped over it, engulfing it. Thankfully, the tree was too moist from a recent rain to catch. Happily, he pulled a free bolt and loaded it, aiming once more. It was a standard bolt. But when he thought of the flames around the tip, of firing into the sun as he had moments earlier, the fire reappeared.

It was his first true treasure-- a purely magical item that he had earned himself by solving the riddle of Lake Hylia. The locals, however, were upset that the blue-haired outlander traveled to one of their temples, even though he could not get inside. So, at his next opportunity, he boarded a boat bound elsewhere.

He had spent a total of eight months in Hyrule, and had learned a massive amount of information. He knew so much about Hyrulian history, religion, and even the language, that were he of the same physical appeal as the Hylians, one could assume he was native. But with his new information and experience, he wanted to travel somewhere newer, somewhere bigger; so he followed the remnants of an old map he had found in a book in Hyrule. He sailed with only one other man to find the massive land of “Middle-Earth”.

There were no stops, and the ship was under-prepared. Due to storms, the ship came into port after nine months of sailing, and the captain had only packed supplies for eight. Rationing the food between the two of them was stressful, and it was difficult to ward off disease, but the two survived the travel and reached port in the world they sought. Once again, Sathis wasted no time before delving into the culture. Much to his surprise, the first people he met-- humans, like some he knew of in the Tamriellic Empire-- spoke the same language as he. Common, as it was known to him, was also ‘Common’ for Middle-Earth. It was the beginning of a long list of similarities between this strange land and the island upon which he had grown up.

He spent most of his time in the human capitol city of Minas Tirith, delving into the library of texts and manuscripts. Research came easy to him; he knew exactly what to look for and how to find it, and in the first week he had a few different possible leads on artifacts and relics. He made a point to stay removed from the affairs and politics of the land; it was not his concern. After a month of life in Minas Tirith, in which he would often leave the city and explore the surrounding mountains and the caves that lied within, it became apparent that men were not the right race to talk magic or enchantment with. He soon departed for Rivendell, nearest home of the Elves.

Over the course of the next two years, he remained with the incredibly accepting elves of Rivendell and Lothlorien. He never understood why these elves relished his presence as much as they did, after hearing so much of how elves typically dislike other races. The only logical explanation was that they were as interested in his as he was in them. He learned their language, some of their combat techniques and strategies, and some of their magics. Over the years, he was even able to find a few relics that he kept for himself.

But alas, in the thriving green woods of Lothlorien, he began to miss Vvardenfel. He once regarded Vvardenfel as a desolate wasteland, unfit for happiness and cheer. Now, after life elsewhere, he missed it. It cost him an incredible sum of money, but he found a wizard who claimed that he could transport Sathis instantly to Tamriel, and left the wonders of Middle-Earth behind him.

Sathis appeared just where he had asked the wizard to take him: Vvardenfel. But he was two days from Balmora, and the walk over the northern wastes was taxing. Life had sprouted and the island was greener, but in comparison to Hyrule and Middle-Earth, it was still a barren, dead island. And yet, Sathis felt at home here, as though he never should have left. He explored a few grottos and tombs on the way south to Balmora, despite being unprepared for foot travel. However, there one particular discovery that changed his life forever.

After delving into a Daedric ruin in hopes of finding one of the valuable Daedric weapons, he discovered an underground shrine. He knew about the Daedra, and as he gazed upon the massive statue ahead of him, he noted that the shrine was unto the Daedric god Sheogorath, patron of madness.

Just as Sathis was about to turn and depart, he heard a word. It was just one word, but a curious one. “Boo.” The voice was enough to stop Sathis, and he turned to the statue. “Did the statue just speak?” He thought. “No, I must be going crazy.” Then, the voice came again. “You want crazy?” The soft, subtle voice shifted through the dark shrine. Sathis stared on in disbelief, unsure if he should respond or not. It soon became apparent that the voice was not looking for a response. Sathis jumped and winced as the ear shattering, shouting voice then said, “Then go find my followers!”

Sathis, of course, felt obliged to. He returned to Balmora, but his visit was brief; he purchased supplies and departed. After asking around, he found another shrine to Sheogorath, where the worshipers were well known in the area for not being as hostile as others. He traveled there, and entered the inner sanctum of the shrine. Immediately he saw a worshipper, and eagerly spoke to him. The phrase he heard in return stayed with him forever. “A bug. A weed. A piece of dust. Busy, busy, busy.”

Until that moment, Sathis had been able to understand everything. Science, history, magic, even religion-- these were studies he comprehended. But as he stared this serious-faced worshipper in the eyes and thought about the phrase over and over, there was no mental click. Nothing happened, and it was slowly devouring him. In all his travels, in all his experiences, he had never encountered it. Finally, there in the appropriate shrine, he found the one thing that could defeat his mind, and the one thing it could not handle: madness.

He stood in that spot for hours, even after the worshipper wandered away. “A bug. A weed. A piece of dust. Busy, busy, busy.” It just made no sense. His mind tried breaking it down and comprehending how they all fit together, but it worked in reverse; his mind broke down first. Then, again came the voice. “You know what you have to do now, don’t you? Well, kill the whole lot of them!”

And for some reason, in Sathis’ mind, it made perfect, infallible sense. It connected like a puzzle piece with the phrase in his head. Drawing his blade, he moved over calmly to the worshipper, and slipped the blade through his back until he could see it rip through the shirt over his stomach. “Yes!” cried the voice. “And the others!”

With each killing, the voice praised him. “Excellent!” it shouted, as the flaming bolt left his crossbow. “A perfect kill shot!” And still, it made absolute sense to Sathis. “Wonderful! The intestines even spilled!” stated the voice, as Sathis pulled his blade from the disemboweled Wood Elf. When the carnage was done, leaving Sathis covered in blood, the voice said, “Lesser Soul Gem. Lettuce. Yarn.”

Sathis was compelled to find these things, and he did. There seemed to be an abundance of them in the shrine. “Come to my office, Sathis.” And so, he returned to the inner sanctum, and approached the statue, which was carved identically to the other he had seen. He laid the three obscure items on the foot of the shrine and stepped back, looking up at the statue.

“You know what I like about you?” said the voice. “You’re not mad. You might think, ‘oh, Lord Sheogorath Almighty, how could you like me because I’m not mad when you’re the freaking god of madness?’ It’s simple, really. A crazy person doing crazy things isn’t crazy at all. It’s normal. But a sane person doing crazy things…” Sathis paused as he felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned around to see that one of the worshippers he had just killed smiling back at him. The voice came from the torn corpse’s lips, and said in conclusion, “Now that’s just damn crazy.”

That night, Sathis had a long talk with the voice that apparently belonged to Sheogorath. They made a deal. Sheogorath claimed to have a great many things in his realm that would interest Sathis, and he was willing to trade for Sathis’ assistance. “You are unique,” Sheogorath said. “There’s no one like you in the world. In any world! You’re as sane as they get, and yet you’re acting as crazy as can be.” Eventually, Sheogorath convinced Sathis to come to his realm, known as the Shivering Isles. “There’ll be an invitation when you get to Cyrodil. Just ask about a strange door!”

As was usual, he wasted no time. It was strange; this felt like any other quest he had been on. It never struck him as unusual that he was on an errand for the Daedric god of insanity. But, in the coming weeks, he made it to the mainland, and traveled to the capitol province. On his first day in the Imperial City, while at a shop purchasing equipment, he heard two men speaking about a strange door in the Niben Bay (a body of water in the south section of the province). He did not need to talk to anyone at all this time. He simply departed.

The time in Cyrodiil as a whole was short. When he reached the Niben Bay, he could see the light of the door from shore. He swam to the door without hesitation and, paying no heed to the guard stationed outside, went through. “Yes!” cried the voice. “I knew I could count on you! Now, be a dear and go into Gabridan. It’s a lovely little shrine that I used to vacation to. Isn’t it terribly convenient that my magic door led you right to the shrine?”

And so, just as he stepped through the door, he stepped onto the lush soil in front of a large stone structure. Fighting could be heard inside. He stepped in, and glanced around in the darkness. “I need you to do something for me. My current lackey is indisposed. My protectors, Golden Saints and Dark Seducers, are having a bit of a tiff over this shrine. It’s been happening a lot lately… Only I don’t like one-sided fights. Things need to be chaotic! So get in there, and introduce a little chaos to the bigger bullies, hmm?”

With his blade in one hand and his crossbow in the other, Sathis stormed the shrine. The fight was immediately in view; he counted six blue-skinned women in black armor against one gold-skinned woman in gilded armor. Without a second thought, he fired his crossbow and advanced. Two of the Dark Seducers were killed by the flaming bolts before the other turned to attack him. He easily downed one by hacking off her leg, and parried into the decapitation of another. As the two final foes closed in on his blind spot, the Golden Saint he had aided attacked from behind. One Dark Seducer fell in a seizure of an electric spell, and the other screamed out as the golden blade ran through her from behind.

Sathis finished off the wounded Seducer as the Golden Saint thanked him. “By the grace of Sheogorath, you saved my life, and claimed this shrine. Thank you.” He only smiled and nodded, but the Golden Saint would not take her eyes from him. “You have done a great service for the Aureal like myself. You are a godsend.” This time, Sathis spoke, saying, “It was nothing, I assure you. I was only doing the work of Sheogorath.” The Golden Saint smiled and replied, “Of course.”

Then the voice came again. “Oh, I like this. This really is crazy. Oh-- I’m sorry, I’m interrupting. I’ll go away now. Heehee!” And the voice left. Just as Sheogorath’s last words echoed in Sathis’ head, the Golden Saint stepped forward and said, “My name is Aara.” Stunned by the beauty of the being, Sathis was able to say only his name in reply. But that was, apparently the only thing he needed to say. Before either of them could say more, they found themselves locked in a kiss.

It all made sense. It felt right, as though everything added to the proper number. The two left together, and returned to the city with her. They made conversation on the way, hand in hand, occasionally stopping for a passionate kiss. When they reached the city, the Aara led Sathis to the throne room of Lord Sheogorath, where he introduced himself. She told the god of the events, and although he already knew, he acted surprised. Aara was dismissed, but Sheogorath kept Sathis for a moment.

“Your time here has ended,” he said with a smile, “but it was very much enjoyed! Here’s a few trinkets to make you smile. Oh, and don’t think about taking Aara with you. She’s needed here. But you can try to summon her, if you want-- you’ll have to figure that one out. I must say, a Dark Elf and Daedra? Absolutely unprecedented! Oh, how I do love the unprecedented!”

Sheogorath was still rambling when Sathis realized he had been dismissed already. So he removed himself from the room, and upon exiting the castle, saw that the world around him was fading away. He glanced back to see Aara standing behind him, apparently a guard at the castle door now. It pained him to leave her behind. As the world behind him vanished, he saw that he was in the alleys of the Imperial City. He spent a few hours conversing with Sheogorath, who seemed eager to donate the time. They made a deal; Sheogorath would make Sathis all the more brilliant, and divine to him the location of specific artifacts, if Sathis would accept Sheogorath’s brand of logic and reason. It was a fair trade in Sathis’ eyes, and he accepted.

Life did not seem different. He made a living by fighting in the arena, which he discovered to be another passion of his. In other times, he would leave to hunt for artifacts in the vast countryside of Cyrodiil. It was his last place of residency, but it, too, came to an end; when the Oblivion crisis struck and the emperor was discovered murdered, he departed Cyrodiil, wanting nothing to do with Mehrunes Dagon’s realm, or with Tamriellic politics. Those were two things that he did not like to tamper with.

Travelling from land to land is all his life is, now, searching for the fuels of his passions. It keeps him happy, and it keeps him going.

RP List
--Battle Arena, Shanrath's Sandpit [Anyone] (Finished)
--Battle Arena, Hunting the Hunter [Drammor] (Finished)
--Crossroads, Love for the Lonely [Open] (Finished)

You could be little more descriptive with the magic. Like exactly how long is a short period of time? Do they have any other limits? And also, about how much can he continue to keep casting spells in a fight? Can he use his summoning spells one after another more than twice? Things like that.

Edited. How's it look now? Better? :3

The other concern I have is with his strength, but ... I kinda trust you not to abuse it in fights with others, ne? Besides, I've approved stronger than this, so I might as well.

*approved*

Well, you know my style-- I RP realistically. I'll change the wording around a bit to make it perfectly clear that his agility and speed are in no way superhuman, but simply exquisite as far as human standards are concerned. Fair's fair?

Hai ^_^ I trust your style, Trib.