Name: Akeruseirei "Rei" Hozuki
Age: 41
Gender: Female
Village: Kirigakure
Rank: Jounin
Title: "White Lotus"
Clan: Kaguya
Bloodline: Shikotsumyaku
Element(s): Raiton, Suiton
Skill(s):
- Body Techniques (Taijutsu),
- Medical Techniques (Iryōjutsu)
- Ninja Techniques (Ninjutsu)
Stats
Unique Abilities: She is proficient ninjutsu with just one hand to preform seals and handsigns, however, she has major trouble when it comes to using sensory and sealing techniques, taking twice as long to cast/initiate those techniques. She also has a strange sense of hearing that tends to pick up most sounds, or strange oddities. As such, she is often hyper aware to even the smallest sound like ticking of watches, or the sound of someone breathing which sometimes drives her mad.
Appearance: A slim woman who often wears dress shirts accompanied by a vest or tie or a combo of the two. Often her pants are a darker contrast with the various leather bits like her belt and boots to accompany her look. Her hair is a lifeless bone white with a mole on the left side beside her lips. Seen in her bright red lipstick and often earrings of some nature. On her left arm she has a rose tattoo, with other tattoos marked over her body. She often has a brace on her right hand, though it is unknown if it has a purpose beyond cosmetics.
History:
Born a Kaguya, Akeruseirei, was stemmed from an almost savage culture. Though they recently had adapted to the new way of the world, her parents held onto the clan's roots to its core. Since she was a child, she was trained and taught their ways, fighting from dawn to dusk to dawn, sometimes going days without sleep, fighting with pure exhaustion. She was used to a life that made it seem like it was a do or die world. But it was wrong, they were wrong. She had always seemed to come up short to her parent's expectations. In school, she passed with noting spectacular to note. She wasn't top of her class, she wasn't at the bottom either. She was above average, but she was never enough to her parents.
Even graduating, surviving, her parents seemed to discard her. Rather than seek the life of a shinobi, she took to working an honest living. The thought of their daughter being some laborer disgusted them, and at that point on, they refused to acknowledge her as their daughter. They stripped her of her name, and refused to call her their own. She worked in various shops, often working with tools like hammers, or wrenches. She left the village a small handful of times, working at various places around and within the Land of Water. She never strayed to far from home. It wasn't long until her teens that she begun to work for a delivery service. She would take goods far across the land, medicine, tools, food, and sometimes, even organs. She didn't ask what she was delivering, but often she could tell based on where she was going.
She worked hard until she was an young adult, at at the age of 18, she was promoted. Years travelling and working as a courier, she would soon inherit the business as the owner passed it off. She struggled for the most part, having declined the position at first, and later taking it with the help of her colleges. Around the age of 21, She finally begun to slow down, finding her love, Engetsu. It wasn't long after they got married, and a year later, had their son. She finally had a family that welcomed her, but the concept was foreign to her. She didn't know how to feel, how to ask around them, and living back in Kirigakure felt strange. She begun to dig her nose into work, unsure of what to make of their child. She nursed him on the job, managing all of their employees. They didn't mind all to much, but in the back of her mind, she panicked. She wanted to raise him right, but how?
Soon, the absence of her from her husband's life begun to manifest. He begun to drink, and she sought tutors and aids to care for her son. If she wasn't going to do it, surely money could pay for the better upbringing. Soon, Engetsu's health would begun to falter, and she would seek his company. She relished the feeling of love, but he was turning col,d bitter, angry. It didn't matter how much love he gave her, she could not feel the same. It was like emotions simply did not surface with her. Their own blood had been predicted to give them quite an heir, hopefully one strong enough to reclaim the name she lost, but he wasn't. He wasn't enough. It seemed like none of it was ever enough.
Chigetsu was average at best, but rather decent with a blade. She hoped that would be his saving grace. She hired the best, and many different masters to aid him, but he seemed to be too absent minded to learn any real skills. He held no knack for the business, and was an average swordsman. He was just average. There was nothing special about him. He was just like she was.
But she wouldn't have it. She was going to make sure he would surpass and take all they had to offer. He had a legacy to take over. But wasn't that the same burden the reason she failed her own family? With her husband on death's doorstep, and a son who has nothing special about him. . .
What was she supposed to do? Well, she could only do what any mother would. She would seek her son, and make sure he made no such mistakes.
Personality:
Akeruseirei is a loving woman to those she cares about. However, her definition of love is twisted compared to your average woman. She's full of tough love from her warm heart. Though, her son might say otherwise. She's not the best at showing emotion, and often comes off as shrewd or heartless. She doesn't how to express herself, but she always tries to do the best for people. For her husband. she's gone as far as helping him dress and setting all of his things for the next day. She's the perfect wife in that sense, but a horrible mother. Being an only child, and born into money, she doesn't take kindly to other interactions with people. She's often hard on her son, yelling at him, but she means well . . . probably.
In business, she does her tasks with an iron fist. Do your job, or get fired. She understands hardships, and would rather you stay home and rest so you're out of everyone's way. She would rather work twice as hard herself, than to have someone put less than their best effort. She's eared a reputation among her employees, sending them home at the slightest injury or attitude. But those who have worked for her for years know her well enough to know she's the best they could get. Often, some workers would go beyond themselves even when sick, just to prove her wrong, to show they can still do their job even with something holding them back. But she still usually sends them home. She hates sick people in the workplace.
Roleplay Sample:
Age: 41
Gender: Female
Village: Kirigakure
Rank: Jounin
Title: "White Lotus"
Clan: Kaguya
Bloodline: Shikotsumyaku
Element(s): Raiton, Suiton
Skill(s):
- Body Techniques (Taijutsu),
- Medical Techniques (Iryōjutsu)
- Ninja Techniques (Ninjutsu)
Stats
- Strength: C
- Constitution: D
- Stamina: C
- Speed: B
- Coordination: C
- Intelligence: D
- Perception: B
Unique Abilities: She is proficient ninjutsu with just one hand to preform seals and handsigns, however, she has major trouble when it comes to using sensory and sealing techniques, taking twice as long to cast/initiate those techniques. She also has a strange sense of hearing that tends to pick up most sounds, or strange oddities. As such, she is often hyper aware to even the smallest sound like ticking of watches, or the sound of someone breathing which sometimes drives her mad.
Appearance: A slim woman who often wears dress shirts accompanied by a vest or tie or a combo of the two. Often her pants are a darker contrast with the various leather bits like her belt and boots to accompany her look. Her hair is a lifeless bone white with a mole on the left side beside her lips. Seen in her bright red lipstick and often earrings of some nature. On her left arm she has a rose tattoo, with other tattoos marked over her body. She often has a brace on her right hand, though it is unknown if it has a purpose beyond cosmetics.
History:
Born a Kaguya, Akeruseirei, was stemmed from an almost savage culture. Though they recently had adapted to the new way of the world, her parents held onto the clan's roots to its core. Since she was a child, she was trained and taught their ways, fighting from dawn to dusk to dawn, sometimes going days without sleep, fighting with pure exhaustion. She was used to a life that made it seem like it was a do or die world. But it was wrong, they were wrong. She had always seemed to come up short to her parent's expectations. In school, she passed with noting spectacular to note. She wasn't top of her class, she wasn't at the bottom either. She was above average, but she was never enough to her parents.
Even graduating, surviving, her parents seemed to discard her. Rather than seek the life of a shinobi, she took to working an honest living. The thought of their daughter being some laborer disgusted them, and at that point on, they refused to acknowledge her as their daughter. They stripped her of her name, and refused to call her their own. She worked in various shops, often working with tools like hammers, or wrenches. She left the village a small handful of times, working at various places around and within the Land of Water. She never strayed to far from home. It wasn't long until her teens that she begun to work for a delivery service. She would take goods far across the land, medicine, tools, food, and sometimes, even organs. She didn't ask what she was delivering, but often she could tell based on where she was going.
She worked hard until she was an young adult, at at the age of 18, she was promoted. Years travelling and working as a courier, she would soon inherit the business as the owner passed it off. She struggled for the most part, having declined the position at first, and later taking it with the help of her colleges. Around the age of 21, She finally begun to slow down, finding her love, Engetsu. It wasn't long after they got married, and a year later, had their son. She finally had a family that welcomed her, but the concept was foreign to her. She didn't know how to feel, how to ask around them, and living back in Kirigakure felt strange. She begun to dig her nose into work, unsure of what to make of their child. She nursed him on the job, managing all of their employees. They didn't mind all to much, but in the back of her mind, she panicked. She wanted to raise him right, but how?
Soon, the absence of her from her husband's life begun to manifest. He begun to drink, and she sought tutors and aids to care for her son. If she wasn't going to do it, surely money could pay for the better upbringing. Soon, Engetsu's health would begun to falter, and she would seek his company. She relished the feeling of love, but he was turning col,d bitter, angry. It didn't matter how much love he gave her, she could not feel the same. It was like emotions simply did not surface with her. Their own blood had been predicted to give them quite an heir, hopefully one strong enough to reclaim the name she lost, but he wasn't. He wasn't enough. It seemed like none of it was ever enough.
Chigetsu was average at best, but rather decent with a blade. She hoped that would be his saving grace. She hired the best, and many different masters to aid him, but he seemed to be too absent minded to learn any real skills. He held no knack for the business, and was an average swordsman. He was just average. There was nothing special about him. He was just like she was.
But she wouldn't have it. She was going to make sure he would surpass and take all they had to offer. He had a legacy to take over. But wasn't that the same burden the reason she failed her own family? With her husband on death's doorstep, and a son who has nothing special about him. . .
What was she supposed to do? Well, she could only do what any mother would. She would seek her son, and make sure he made no such mistakes.
Personality:
Akeruseirei is a loving woman to those she cares about. However, her definition of love is twisted compared to your average woman. She's full of tough love from her warm heart. Though, her son might say otherwise. She's not the best at showing emotion, and often comes off as shrewd or heartless. She doesn't how to express herself, but she always tries to do the best for people. For her husband. she's gone as far as helping him dress and setting all of his things for the next day. She's the perfect wife in that sense, but a horrible mother. Being an only child, and born into money, she doesn't take kindly to other interactions with people. She's often hard on her son, yelling at him, but she means well . . . probably.
In business, she does her tasks with an iron fist. Do your job, or get fired. She understands hardships, and would rather you stay home and rest so you're out of everyone's way. She would rather work twice as hard herself, than to have someone put less than their best effort. She's eared a reputation among her employees, sending them home at the slightest injury or attitude. But those who have worked for her for years know her well enough to know she's the best they could get. Often, some workers would go beyond themselves even when sick, just to prove her wrong, to show they can still do their job even with something holding them back. But she still usually sends them home. She hates sick people in the workplace.
Roleplay Sample:
- Sample 1:
- It's late night, the moon is high, the stars are out. There's only a single business in the whole city that is open at this ungodly hour. They call it The Tapered Rose. It's a tavern of sorts, a bar with housing. Two people breathe in this building. The rooms are empty. The only lights, are the candles on the tables, and on the bar. The old man stands behind the counter, wiping down flasks and glasses. His hair is balding, his face dripping with age. But the other one, sits in the back of the room, a candle lighting up his features. His sharp teeth, his dark skin. He's far from a human, yet his voice sounds like a man. Upon nearing closer to him, you see his scales, the horns on his head, and the long snake-like tail. He smiles when you take a seat at his table. He's the only reason you woke up so early.
"I won't start over." he says. "It's been a while. So let's just pick up where we left off." he lifts his right arm to the table and sets down a large hammer. It looks like a sledgehammer put on a simple stick. But you know better. You know it's part of the story.
"So I awoke on the ship. I didn't remember who I was, what I was, or where I was. All I knew was that I was saved from something. A man with dark skin looked at me funny." he would lean back in his chair, a low bellow from his lungs. "He was in a cage. He told me I was freed, but not him. Then another man came down and told me to follow him up the stairs. I'd follow him up one flight of stairs, only to get to a second. There was a latched door on the ceiling. He told me to go first, and I did. And I pressed the door open." leaning forward, his hand would fall on his hammer, feeling the wood of the grip. "The light was bright. I thought I died. I thought I had gone to Heaven. Only after hearing the birds chirp, and feeling the wind on my scales did I remember, I was bound for hell.
"I later found the name of this place to be Marrowind. It was an odd name for a dark colored wasteland. I felt like I was at home, but part of me questioned it.
"I was met by a light skinned man who pushed scrolls and quills at me and asked for my information. He wanted my name, my birth sign, my race, my skills. It was all so odd. I sat down, and he looked at me questionably. But I didn't know a single answer.
"I could hear her though. In the back of my mind, I could hear her calling out to me. She called me names like stupid, ugly, and brother. I couldn't help but wonder who she was, and why she looked nothing like me. That's when I wrote a name. Yang. Because I remember her calling me, ". . . . a demon who is the absence of darkness." and that's what I chose my new name to be.
"I looked to my right, and saw a stack of books. "If you need help knowing what you astronomical sign is, those books will help." the man said. So I took them in my hands. I opened it, and by fate, The Shadow was the one I saw. Then another memory came.
"Child of the night, I'm afraid you must go." I remember the voice. A woman. She sounded so pure, so innocent. "Sithis calls for you. You belong there, not here. You are a Shadowscale." And then I wrote it in. I was born under The Shadow."
He would take the hammer, and place it before you, pointing the handle at himself. "After I left the office, I was told to take what I needed from the next room. Now, I'm sure you're thinking that's where I got this, but not quite. I found a letter opener and took it as my own. I took a map and a few rings I found on the table. The man told me it was fine, and all the goods were donated to help people like me. He gave me a bag to put my things in, and I left quietly. When I left his office I saw a large lighthouse, and instinct told me to run to is. I clutched onto the dull blade and opened the door. I saw a man pull a sword and point it at me. It took no more than a second for me to put that one object in his throat. Then I took his blade and made my way to the top. I found his friend and stabbed him too. I took everything they had, took the food and left. I went to the inn that was maybe a leap and bound away. I sold their belongings and bought this hammer. The same hammer I used to reforge the blade I stole." he laughed, setting back in his seat. "Then I remember walking out, afraid, scared. Everyone's eyes seemed to glow red. I ran from there. I ran with everything in my bag, and I found a small cave.
"It was lit by torch light, kinda like this tavern with candles. But instead, I saw the back of a woman. She held a dagger fresh with blood. I saw a tail, furred and spotted, like a brown cheetah. There was bodies before her, bleeding and some burned. And she turned slowly to face me, her eyes wet. And you know was she said to me?" he would lean upon the table, setting his head on his hands. "She spoke, her voice shaken. I could still taste the fear.
"Do'Saah. . ." she said to me, "I thought we lost you." then she dropped her weapon and ran at me, my sword in my hand. She wrapped her arms around me. I was confused, lost, unsure of the circumstance. But I knew that she did not mistake me for someone else. "Don't ever leave me again." she burrowed her head into my shirt. "I promise I'll be a better sister.""
The old man would appear behind you, setting a cup on the table. It was clear, the liquid visible. It was golden, with leaves set upon the top in many small bits. It was something you've seen only when listening to his stories.
"She explained everything to me. We took that cave as our own, and she explained the life I lived, and why we were in Marrowind.
"I was born from a swamp in the southeast of the continent. I called my home Shadowfen. I don't remember anything besides the rotting leaves and the smell of moss. I was hatched from an egg. I didn't know many of my kind. I remember voices when I hatched. I was one of three that survived. There was dozens of my eggkin that died. It was customary for all of us born under the sign of The Shadow to be offered to The Black Hand, or what is known now as the Dark Brotherhood.
"A strange masked man without a tail put the back of us in a cart. We were to travel far to a world no one had seen before. But it would seem that it was not my fate. In the middle of the night, I was stolen along with another of my eggkin. We were taken by dark skinned elves, same as the man who was in that boat. We were to become slaves. But even that road was short. That group of elves, the Dren family I believe, were raided in the middle of Cyrodill, the country the assassin was trying to get us to. And to make matters more confusing, again it was the dark skinned elves that stole us. But this time, they word clothing of sod and dust, paint upon their faces. They wanted to get us free. They called themselves Ashlanders.
"I know I told you before, but I'll go over again. The Ashlanders were a group of Dark Elves who were against the enslavement of my kind, the Argonian race. Their culture shared many ideals and views as ours, and their tribes existed almost beside our own. I did not know how to speak, or make words yet, but the other Argonian did. He told them we were supposed to be with the masked man. And they understood the problem. So instead of returning us to the Black Hand as our culture required, the entire tribe of Ashlanders took it upon themselves to hand deliver us to the Dark God himself. It was the second time I heard the name Sithis. I thought he was a god, and I wasn't far from the truth.
"It took a week for us to make it through Cyrodiil, but seeing as none in our party knew the land, we found ourselves in Arenthia, a city built in a forest. The country of Valenwood, home of the Wood Elves. Eventually, the tribe decided that their purpose was to train us until the Brotherhood arrived. I was told that some of the Bosmer, or wood elves had sent note to their superiors to come to Valenwood to claim us. It felt odd to me, to know so many people worked within this society, yet we were claimed from birth. As a child, I tried to grasp what made us special.
"Three more days passed. The Ashlanders taught us Alchemy as well as crafting armors from plants and hide. The Bosmer taught us archery, as well as hand to hand combat. It was only then I saw another masked man appear. His clothing red and black, the first time I saw one of them during the day. He looked at both me and the other Argonian boy.
"Do you have names?" he asked us. I knew few words from the Ashlanders.
"No." I answered. It would have been normal to be named on our hatching day, but we were Shadowscales. We were only allowed to be named by Sithis or the Night Mother herself. T
"Silent-Moss" he says, "I heard her call to me in my sleep." The man would nod and motion for him to follow. He would stare coldly at me and walk away with the other boy. I took a step to follow them, and the man turned to face me. "It is not your time yet." he told me. "We will find you when it is your time.""
"I stood there and watched as they walked away. I rubbed my eyes to make sure it wasn't a dream, and when I opened them, they were gone. The Bosmer stood there, confused. The Ashlanders were stunned. No one knew what had happened. I was young, a child. An infant. And now I was abandoned. I could not go back home, for it was not our way. And the Black Hand told me it was not my time, least, that one man. The Bosmer told the Ashlanders to go back to Argonia and talk to my people. She wanted to know what to do for my sake, as well as her own curiosity.
"Worry not, Scaled-one." she told me, "I will teach you our ways, so when Sithis is ready for you, you will be ready for him." She was kind. And she was like my mother. "But we have done too much here. We must go." she picked me up and carried me in her arms. We were on our way to Elswyr, the country of felines who were skilled in silver tongues and stealth.
"I don't remember much about my travels there, other than being left alone one night. I remember calling out to her, the elf with no name, and there was no answer. All I could see was the moons in the sky. But then I heard a voice. It was almost drenched in familiarity. It was younger than me, and it was a Khajiit, one of the cat-people. She came to me and sat beside me as I felt lost. She poked the side of my face with her claw. "Brother." was all she said to me.
"I learned her language. I lived with her. I begun to learn the names of the stars, the villagers. I taught her the things I learned. I showed her how to hold a sword. I showed her how to weave ropes and tie knots for various things. The Khajiits in turn taught me how to process skooma and the art of stealth. I didn't want to be Argonian. I wanted a family. I wanted to be a Khajiit. That was when they named me.
"Ja'saah," the elder called me, "Why are you here?" he asked, wondering why I was there. By then, I learned how to speak better. I was older.
"I am to become the night." I replied, "But my family gave me away, and others wanted me to be a slave." It felt so odd to tell the truth. But I knew I was not allowed to utter a word about the Black Hand in this country. Besides, I wanted to forget it all happened.
"Then you are one of us, Ja'saah." he said again. He made it to be my name.
"What does my name mean?" I asked him.
"Ja, you are child. Saah, for you have large feet!" And that was my name. Everyone made it so. "But Ja'Saah has family name, no?" he said, looking at me. But he knew. He nodded. I would remember my family eventually. Even if they gave me up, it was only right for the world to know where I came from." Sighing he shuffles in hands into his pockets. "That was how I lived. I lived among cats. I fought, I stole, I hunted. When I proved my worth, my sister gave me the title of Do, and I become Do'Saah. I was no longer Young-Foot. Now, they called me Strong-Foot. But in that moment of bliss, a scale among furreds, I had a nightmare that seemed real.
Imagine darkness, something darker than being in a cave at night, where the sky is clouded and a blindfold over your eyes. It seemed surreal, it seemed to move in around me, pushing me into nothing. I felt air from my lungs being drained and taken. Then I heard a voice, but it wasn't a voice. It was like a thousand whispers all speaking at once. They uttered the same thing over and over.
Shadowstep. Shadowstep. Shadowstep.
He had named me. I had forgotten him. But he did not forget me. Sithis gave me a name.
"I told my sister. I was only fair, as she knew that I came from Valenwood. She lingered over the name, and questioned it. "Shadowstep?" she asked, "So he named you Saah'Do Step?"
And that's was how it began. I was Do'Saah-Step, Argonian of Elswyr, Rejected Assassin of The Black Hand. "
Scoffing, he would reach down to his glass, lifting it to his mouth. He would sip the drink, the leaves floating on top, but not being consumed. They would press against his lips, but only the drink would pass.
"Next thing I remember is opening the door of our home and feeling a wave of heat on my face. Then I woke up on a boat, found myself in a new world, forgot who I was. And I guess you know where this goes." Laughing he would continue.
"My sister and I lived peacefully in our cave. We left sometimes. I was able to grow foods with nothing but the lights of crystals in the place of the sun. I captured animals and had our own livestock. We were the only beastkin in the entire country that we knew about. The one day, I woke up to find my sister gone. I felt darkness around me. I ran out of the cave to look for her. I remember being full of so much rage I killed everyone that couldn't give me an answer. I became a criminal. People hunted me, so I killed them too. I remember plunging my blade into millions of people, and reforging it with the same hammer on this table.
"Then darkness came over my mind. Then I woke up on the boat again. It was like it never happened. The same elf spoke to me. The same man asked me to fill out forms. But this time I knew the answers. He told me to take what I needed. I took only the map and the bag and left. I left without word. I did not go to the lighthouse. I went right to the cave. I found mercenaries all around, but my sister was gone. I went to the next city and stared into the faces that I had cut down just moments before. I begun to work, living in an inn, making just enough to survive. I had killed everyone, and now they all lived. And now that I remembered who I was, I couldn't find my sister. I tried forgetting who I was to try and bring her back, but I never forgot.
"In my room of the small in, there was an Argonian next door. She sang at night. I listened to her never night before I closed my eyes. The songs were often sad and solemn. She sang songs ans sometimes I quietly sang along.
She had a voice like an angel. She had a voice like my sister."
- Sample 2:
- Taking another sip of his drink, you can feel the night become eternal. Time is lost, suspended in existence. It seems like both a second and a millennia has passed by. You grow weary, yet you stay for the tale. He continues.
"But like a dream, my torment was ended. I no longer lived to see the faces of the men, women and children I killed. Instead, I awoke to find myself barred up. I wondered if they found out, and I was finally being punished for my crimes. I prayed for the release of my life. I prayed my soul to be taken by the dark soul Sithis. . . but a different salvation came to me."
"You . . ." the voice of an older man interrupted my prayers for the end of my life. "I've seen you... let me see your face..." his voice was golden, his tone noble and rich with history. I felt like I knew the man. "you are the one from my dreams."
"I leaned in hear him better. The next moment I find myself escaping prison through a secret cavern. I looked at him and his garb, as well as the men who courted him. They seemed finely dressed and made of gold, something contrasting the cold obsidian earth I once lived on. I can't help but feel as if I was born again, my soul molding a new carcass. Only to follow a man who I was told to be the emperor.
"I didn't know why they locked him up, nor how I got into that cell. All I could remember was watching an assassin take the man's life, and him giving me an amulet to pass to another. For once, I felt like I had a purpose. For once, I had a goal. For once, I was going to save the world, not destroy it. I remember making my way through the prison sewers wearing the armor the former emperors guards. I was but a scavenger, and now I was the man employed by the dead. It seemed too much for me. But again, it didn't end.
"I made my way out of there killing rats and other beasts. I remember staring at the light at the end of the sewers. My life encased in darkness. I looked at the world through the sewer gates. And I heard the voices again, the same voice from my dreams.
Gates opened. Hellfire. Collect the scrolls.
"I touched the cold rusted metal of the sewers and I push it open. My life born again, but the taints of my past known to only two; Myself, and Sithis." Reaching down, his fingers would drip into his glass only to grasp the leaves set on top. They were now soggy, and he would eat them without stopping his story. Looking at your face, you can see into his eyes. Only now do you learn of the blood red color of his irises.
"In Valenwood, I was taught to follow the green pact. The other boy did not. They honored the god that lived in their forest by wasting nothing. They ate everything of their prey, and used the rest to arm themselves. I would whittle knives from bones and starve myself in preparation for rites. The other boy would learn how to mold steel and how to hide bodies. I can see how different we became. He was a closed fist, and I was an open palm. Maybe that's why The Night mother spoke to him first. She wanted a crude beast to dismember her targets, not someone taught to weave silver tongues. But in Elsweyr, I learned how to move without sound and with skooma, how to make potent toxins and hallucinogens. Maybe Sithis didn't need me yet, or maybe he needed me for something else. All of this went through my mind as I looked at the sun outside of that sewer. I knew where I was. I was back in Cyrodiil. And again, he spoke to me.
The Hist. Ancestry. Kvatch in ruins.
"I did not know this world, but Sithis showed me the way. I did not question the voices, I simply accepted them as him. From his words, I knew to expect some sky gates to open and rain fire. The first target would be Kvatch, whatever it was. And perhaps this Hist was my saving grace, or maybe that would show me the scrolls.
"It really was a blur. I was on so much adrenaline I begun to rush into things, following maps and eavesdropping on conversations for information. I gave the amulet to a monk and I ran to a burning city. With swords in hand I begun to slay demons. Daedra as they were called. I passed through a large portal that seemed to stand from volcanic rock. There was hellfire, as the dark lord mentioned. I was in fear of what was to come, but to have slain a whole country in such a short time, there was nothing to stand in my way.
"In that portal, I passed through a new plane of existence. I remember someone calling it the plane of oblivion. None followed me in, they stayed outside, fighting the few Daedra that made it past me. Inside of this firey hell, I found corpses burnt to a crisp, held in cages, personal prisons all over. There was puzzles with the tormented dead, and I made my way past the lava. Eventually I came to find a black black orb.
Take it.
"He spoke to me, and I obeyed without question. The world begun to shake. The walks begun to break. I ran for the exit. I would fall out, onto the cold stone ground. The portal behind me would close, the heat still searing my back. The demonic knights stood around, and I arose to slay them once more. I had saved a city, all because of a voice I heard in my head. The voice of the Dread Lord. Ruler of he Void. Sithis.
"But in the back of my mind, I wondered what became of the monk who I gave the jewel to. I would make my way back to save the amulet, but I came to find it stolen, and the monk still alive. I was somewhat disappointed, but still. They directed me to the Imperial City I believe. I think I was ambushed, or someone tried to kill them. Of course, I killed the assailant, but then I found a new thing. An Arena.
"They had a place to fight to the death. A champion was crowned. I don't remember how I found out, or why I went to join, but I did. And many lives were taken. I found disgusting enjoyment in it. In any case, I metaphorically told the monk and her friend to fuck off while I stab things. I remember the champions face when I was growing in the ranks. He asked of me to do a thing for him, to get a book I believe. When I returned with the book, the woman in charge of the fights told me to give a name the crowd would know me by. With blood lust in my soul, I told him Shadowstep, and the champion told me his truth. He wasn't of noble birth, but vampiric. It did hurt to see him full of sorrow, as it did to fight him. In the arena, he told me to take his life, and so I did. . . Then they came to me.
"We Know" were the words written. I saw the symbol, and I knew my own fate. After years, I had been chosen. My destiny was sealed long ago, and now they had reached to me.
Relight the fires. Age of Ash shall never begin.
"And he spoke to me, and I obeyed. Years ago I would have disregarded it all, but now he was my god. He was my savior. He was my conscience. And so I went on, working for the monk and her friend for the sake of the dead emperor. I took myself to the Arcane University and begun to create spells from nothing. I begun to train, hunting, finding portals left and right, closing them, taking these black orbs.
Touch the scrolls. Drop the sigils.
"He spoke after a dozen portals were closed, these eerie objects in my bag. Once again, I listened and I did. I lightly tapped the Scrolls of Flame in my bag for my spells, then I held the orb and dropped it. To my amazement, I would watch several sigils drop from my hand. And from that point, I learned the dark magic Sithis had bestowed upon me.
"Without repercussions, I began to experiment. I took my items, the one-of-kind jewels and gems and did the same. I reached out and lightly tapped my collection of scrolls, and I dropped the necklaces and rings on the floor. As they left my touch several were made from nothing. I had found the answer to my poverty. But with it confirmed, I thought of other things. I made my way to the closest store. I asked the man at the counter if I could trade my rings for another scroll. And my fun began.
"I smiled as I held my new spell of frostbite. I tapped my fire scrolls and dropped my Frostbite. Several scrolls hit the ground. I laughed, doing it over and over, until I had a hundred scrolls of fire, and a thousand of ice. I went to the next city and begun to sell jewelry and high end weapons and armor. I sold so many items and begun to experiment with alchemy with infinite ingredients. I had collected so much money, I had decided to settle down. I found myself buying a home at the low price of 5,000 gold in the city of Anvil.
"Life was grand and perfect. I now had a place to store my goods and other items. As I entered, I set my things around the dusted home. I begun to put my items in broken vases and stubborn bookshelves. I had grown from nothing, and for once, I had a roof over my head, and not a tree. It was my first home, and it was all mine."
He would begin to laugh, it would be amusing to hear his words. For once it was light, kind, sweet. But it wouldn't last for long. He never told a happy story.
"A spirit would wake me from my sleep. I found them trying to kill me, to end my life. But I was a hero, I had a duty to fulfill.
I took up my swords and swung at the creatures. They would fall and turn into dust, fog, or in some cases a glowing goo. I did not wish to disturb them, nor did I wish to embark on a journey that would distract me from my purpose. But I didn't want to end the lives of these lost spirits. If they wanted the home, it was theirs to keep. I would find myself checking on them, bringing magical artifacts for them to find some peace with, but nothing would be enough.
Eventually I would find myself lost, weak, and without a roof. But I had a king to honor. And in the back of my mind, I had a god to obey.
Islands. Giants. Demania.
Sithis spoke onto me, and his words I obeyed."
As he spoke, you could swear that you could see the glint of a single droplet rising from his eye. As you focus on it, it seemed to be sucked back into his iris only to disappear. It would be a bit of disappointment. You've never seen him cry before.
"I found a man with a boat. I told him to take me to the Island of Giants. I didn't know if their was such a place, but with nothing but words to light my path it was worth a shot.
"He would shiver at the thought, only to turn around and look at the sea. With a flash of a dozen bags of gold was he then persuaded. He told me that when he got there he would see me set foot on shore and he would leave shortly after. I didn't care. I was doing the work of my god.
I closed my eyes on that sailing, and when I opened them I found myself in an odd world of madness. . . But that place is something you wouldn't believe. that's a story for another time." He would reach up and wipe the tear. You aren't sure what to make of it.
