Sers, ladies, other personages of the landed gentry, I may have gotten carried away. [hider=(WEB VERSION) Isai Tegulatoris Sutor-Armaseptus da Leyawiin, Esq.][INDENT][INDENT][CENTER][h3][b]I S A I T E G U L A T O R I S S U T O R - A R M A S E P T U S D A L E Y A W I I N , E S Q . [/b][/h3][hr][sub][i]"Paint me like one of thine Dunmer bonnies." [/i][/sub][hr][/CENTER] [table][row][/row][row][cell][center][sub][b]══════ C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T ══════[/b][/sub] [sup]_______________________________________________[/sup][img]http://img.over-blog-kiwi.com/1/27/04/32/20150927/ob_6d1dbe_gustave-courbet-autoportrait-l-homm.JPG[/img] [sup]_______________________________________________[/sup] [suP][b]═══════ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y ══════[/b][/suP] [sub][url=https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2JTYQ4PwwJ1BBWy9as69XO?si=k9uZINxISZmbC-qMysMQaA]Isai Tegulatoris Sutor-Armaseptus da Leyawiin, Esq.[/url] [sup]_______________________________________________[/sup] 29 [b]|[/b] He / Him [b]|[/b] Imperial / Bosmer [sup]_______________________________________________[/sup] Painter, Mage, Astronomer, Astrologist, Historian, Simp, Literary Critic, Writer (of Prose and Poetry), Theoretical Physicist, Phrenologist, and Philosopher[/sub][/center] [indent][sub][b]▼ P H Y S I C A L T R A I T S[/b][/SUB] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► [b]Build[/b] - Lithe and erect. ► [b]Skin Color[/b] - Of Mediterranean or Imperial likeness. ► [b]Hair Color[/b] - A dark walnut brown. ► [b]Eye Color[/b] - Blue. [/SUP] [SUB][b]▼ D O S S I E R[/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► [b]Birthplace[/b] - Leyawiin, Cyrodiil. ► [b]Birthsign[/b] - The Ritual. ► [b]Ambition[/b] - He wants to be as far away as he can from the dirt from whence he sprung, to climb station after station. He also wants to crack the cosmological code, and though he's unable to put it into exact words just yet, to understand the towers, mantling, and CHIM -- and he's woefully ignorant as to what that entails. [/SUP][/indent] [indent][sub][b]▼ F A V O R E D A T T R I B U T E S[/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► [abbr=His learnedness does not come from natural aptitude, but from the long sleepless nights and stubborn struggling.][b]Willpower[/b][/abbr] ► [abbr=Born disadvantaged and leveraged into opportunity by conning the advantaged that he is, in fact, one of them.][b]Intelligence[/b][/abbr][/sup] [SUB][b]▼ S K I L L S[/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► [b]Speechcraft[/b] - [abbr=Better in writing than in vocalization admittedly, though he is learned in matters of the heart, of the arts and of history and philosophy and all that which lies within the realm of culture, his reputation undermines his force of personality to fully exert its influence.]Adept[/abbr] ► [b]Conjuration[/b] - [abbr=When realities blend like colors.]Apprentice[/abbr] ► [b]Illusion[/b] - [abbr=The minds of men are woefully unprepared for those with stronger opinions on the matter.]Apprentice[/abbr] ► [b]Alteration[/b] - [abbr=Like the mind, so too does reality bend. With both in proper order, the pillars can be seen through the marble.]Apprentice[/abbr] ► [b]Mysticism[/b] - [abbr=What is magic if not the barest taste of the godhead?]Apprentice[/abbr] ► [b]Sneak[/b] - [abbr=Ever soft on his toes.]Novice[/abbr] ► [b]One-Handed[/b] - [abbr=The force it takes to cut skin entirely depends on the blade and on what you're cutting. A well sharpened scalpel can pierce treated leather with a only a nudge if applied correctly.] Novice[/abbr] ► [b]Marksman[/b] - [abbr=What was once purely recreational has now become all but a necessary skill on the road. A book takes forever to write, publish, and distribute before you find your first septim from it--a single arrow and a large buck takes only an instant.]Novice[/abbr] ► [b]Smithing[/b] - [abbr=You're going to learn why mechanics hate soft-palmed engineers.]Novice[/abbr][/SUP] [SUB][b]▼ M A G I C & S P E L L S[/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► [b]Conjuration[/b] - Bound Dagger, Summon Scamp ► [b]Illusion[/b] - Clairvoyance, Command ► [b]Alteration[/b] - Open Lock, Magelight, Equilibrium ► [b]Mysticism[/b] - Dispel, Dispel Other, Soul Trap [/sup] [SUB][b]▼ E Q U I P M E N T[/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► [b]Personal Items[/b] - Aside from his clothes and a sachet of tea in his pocket, he hasa satchel carrying little more than a journal, a bunch of loose papers, a quill deemed too cheaply made to be considered a weapon, a handful of septims, house key, some stamps and seals, and a separately kept cheesecloth of venison jerky, nuts, and roots. ► [b]The Lock Box[/b] - A flimsy wooden letter opener and a "waterskin" filled with wine, considered to be contraband. ► [b]Stored Items[/b] - Somewhere in Leyawiin sits a simple cabin with many books, papers, and documents; the most important of which are under the floorboards, under a rug, under the bed, and in an airtight box. Oh, and does Verena count? She's in prison too and was supposed to carry a bunch of toiletries and other things -- when are we getting those back by the way? [/sup][/indent][hr] [/cell][cell][center][b][sub]══════ A P P E A R A N C E ══════[/sub][/b][/center] "Egad, who is't this knave ere me? Who is't he who wears the drapes of a lord without the filigree and station to whomst his dress deserves? This lad, this rapscallion, this wretch who is't saunters through Cheydinhall, prances about Skingrad, and canters 'round the Imperial City like some misbegotten beggar prince who is't swindles the valorous perceptions of the peasantries too naive or witless to behold his true nature?" -- Palonirya, esteemed Imperial City couturier Such is one of the many stellar reviews of Isai's presumed character but veritably affirms the suspicions one may have upon visitation of him. He offers an aesthetic that can only be ascertained as some Bretony fad, "baroque chic, baroque genre," falling just short of the haute couture he roleplays as. So, while his fashion presents the haunting shade of an elite-class academic, his disposition appears bereft of the customary mannerisms and tics that betray them, only managing to caricaturize those he impersonates... but it's [i]understated[/i]. There's no doubt he takes care of his appearance, as his dress is designed and tailored to insinuate a higher class that is dressing down, but only to the extent of denoting a certain humility that screams "I could be adorned head to toe in pearls, but I'm not, see? I'm so likable, but also, not like [i]you[/i]." The fashion choice in question is expressed with an almost-perfectly tailored cassock with a likeness to a liturgical vestment, were it not embroidered with same-colored Toile de Jouy patterns overlayed by a conflicting gold Jacquard, unintentionally symbolic of the bucolic and pastoral backdrop of his life blending and hiding in the tapestry of his life, shocked by the glittering distractions of opulence and indulgence. The cassock, typically unbuttoned at the top and almost thick enough to be mistaken for a gambeson, contrasts against silken white shirt underneath, and makes him appear somewhat top-heavy with the pansied slops he wears as his leggings, but are rebalanced by some riding boots (meant to suggest the ownership of a horse [he does not own a horse]) that unfortunately just give his legs the appearance of twigs supporting his otherwise heavy silhouette. His long brown hair is well groomed, as is the notably Nibenese-Imperial fashioned facial hair, and they frame and accessorize an oval head, hard at work to mislead the eye and suggest some of the absent chiseled-ness he might desire. He is a fairly thin man, generally speaking, lacking a sort of cut fitness that he desires but lacking the interest in exerting the physical effort to obtain it, but also having a slight belly that lets you know that he routinely samples the best of the world's foods like Breton honey cakes and spicy wyress wine, Altmeri golden pear punch, Imperial dormice with marrow sauce, or a Dunmeri curried kwama scrib risotto. Conveniently, or perhaps by design, his cassock somehow both hides and flatters his figure. He is somewhat tall, but not particularly intimidating at 5'10". All this to say, Isai looks younger than his years, and the pep in his step instills in the passive observer a sense of energy and dynamism that undercuts a boyish charm. His presentation disarms and distracts from a genuinely curious mind trying to crack some kind of esoteric code not readily apparent to others. [center][b][sub]═══════ P E R S O N A L I T Y ══════[/sub][/b][/center] Isai is an Imperial man (alleging to be half-Bosmer on his mother's side) with a wide range of self-ascribed titles relating to the arts, sciences, pseudo-sciences, philosophy, and magical studies. However, he is perhaps best known as an author who has and will write about anything and everything, though it is unclear whether it be from genuine academic interest/artistic expression or because he likes the attention of being heard and seen. He is also known for having an inclination towards being melodramatic. A true renaissance man, he doesn't purport to be an expert in any one field, but it cannot be denied even by those chagrined by his self-indulgent behavior that he is very knowledgeable about a wide breadth of topics, even if some of them may be misinformed. He seems most interested in the world history of Tamriel, its mortal denizens, and the cosmology of the universe which provides magicka, gods, and daedra. In league with such interests, he possesses apprentice-level knowledge of conjuration, alteration, and mysticism, as well as apprentice-level knowledge of the illusion school, only being invested insofar as to only become versed in the nature of illusions so as to “study how the mind behaves within its confines, and shatter that which allows reality to allude." ...Whatever that means. His clear eccentricities notwithstanding, he is a man who mostly has his wits about him in most situations. He’s an advocate for “training the mind,” being a considerable fan of theory — no matter the discipline — and appearing notably excitable when broaching even the most esoteric and cerebral topics of conversations. [/cell][/row][/table][/indent][/indent] That said, his interest in such unsubstantive ideas like creation that evade or bewilder even most existential philosophers and conjurers. He has studied figures and events such as Tiber Septim, the ALMSIVI, the towers, and the Dragon Break extensively, even if the most regarded research is still little more than speculative theory and intellectual junk food. Such is the reason for his studies into magics that reach across the planes, alter reality, influence minds, and its own essence. Isai is ambitious if nothing else, always wanting a little more and not really caring about the means to seize it. He has an appreciation for law if not a respect for it, preferring to use it for his purposes and bending them if he can’t, but never brashly breaking them if he can help it. There is a limit to what he’ll do, as he wouldn’t dare, say, making a human sacrifice in a daedric ritual, though it’s hard to say if that’s simply because he doesn’t have the stomach for it, but he at least purports to have a moral code of not deliberately hurting anyone despite all of his seeming faults, he is undeniably a friendly person, and whether or not he remembers your name being beside the point, you are sure to feel welcomed and flattered in his presence, and if one is so keen, to enjoy a cold night made warmer. He enjoys traveling between the provinces to see the world and to document history as it occurs. [center][b][sub]═══════ S K I L L S (E X T E N D E D) ══════[/sub][/b] [hider=Skills (Extended)][b]SPEECH[/b] Isai may not be the quintessential bard with lute in hand as Tamriel understands it, but his function is none less impactful with his dissemination of information. Speechcraft is just as much a level of literacy as it is the proficiency to persuade, as to master rhetoric is to understand language in many forms and functions; to resist propaganda or perpetuate it. His familiarity and comfort with the arts, philosophy, politics, and history, with toes dipped into understanding magic, enables him to dance and perform in many intellectual arenas or get what he needs out of most people. It is now also how he earns most of his income. [b]MAGIC[/b] Isai's interest in [u]Conjuration[/u], [u]Alteration[/u], [u]Illusion[/u], and [u]Mysticism[/u] are not arbitrary decisions, as he believes that the study of magic helps him investigate the fabric of Aurbis and spirit of Anu. Destruction is, to him, a useless school because it takes magic to recreate the physical phenomenon that occurs on Mundus for the purpose of physically changing the environment within the closed system of reality's laws, whereas Alteration bends those laws itself. He studies Illusion to study the mind and metamagical or aethersynaptic entanglement, or how magic from Aetherius influences the mind and its senses and prevents it from seeing what is real. Mysticism is the study of magic itself, of course. Conjuration is the school of magic that, while is at the same practical level, is supposedly his specialty and operates on the highest theoretical level, as it expresses the movement between planes and potentially throughout the Aurbis itself. However, he is keen to not advance too far into these fields past the adept level, because he fears that working too deeply in one's school constrains thought to laboring within their laws and rules. By never becoming an expert in a school of magic, he believes he won't become too invested or confined by its scholarly tradition. He has little consideration for any practical applications of the magic he studies, but he supposes that if he is held up in a highway mugging, he can summon a knife in his hand just to get his ass beat worse. He supposes that trying to bend his assailant's mind works less in his favor if he fails, because even if it has the best potential outcome, failure means he doesn't even have a knife and the opportunity to bluff. Summoning scamps are often more trouble than they're worth, but they are still his best bet in a scrape: summon and run and hope there aren't any authorities nearby witnessing you summon daedra. Clairvoyance is his most practical spell, as it helps direct him where to go while on the road followed by magelight -- a midnight writer's non-flammable lighting option. Mysticism is almost entirely based in theory. He learned how to cast soul trap on himself then immediately panicked and had to learn how to dispel it. [B]SNEAK[/B] He's a sneaky guy. Is he a super sneaky guy? Not really. Twigs have snapped underfoot, but he's no assassin - he's just an intellectual charlatan who sometimes gets himself into sticky situations he has a hard time running out of. What's a man to do? Hug the wall and pray someone doesn't see you. One may even say that the theory of sneakiness is deep in his bones via some underhanded methods, but erasing his presence from others' senses is a skill he does not have. [b]ONE-HANDED[/B] He's not a swordsman; he just assumes it is expected of him to have some swordsmanship ability as a gentleman. Like fencing and such, only he's not very good at it. He can conjure a dagger for you to laugh at, but it's weightless and sharp as sin, so it's still worth your consideration. Laugh only briefly, because it doesn't take much to bleed a pig. [b]MARKSMAN[/b] His mother is a Bosmer, and although that doesn't automatically default her or her son with skill with a bow, she [i]does[/i] know how to use one and imparted that knowledge onto her son while on the road. While it started as recreation, she did stress the importance of being able to acquire game and food. While Isai is not much of a chef, a lucky shot means he can bring a buck into town to sell for enough money to get some food and a comfortable night in an inn bed. [b]SMITHING[/B] Probably even worse than a novice. He has a lot of theoretical knowledge of construction, engineering, and maths, but he lacks any practical competency with hardware and no desire to exert the physical effort. He can come up with the ideas, but he's just an ideas guy. He'll tell you what to do if you're so inclined to build a wagon for him.[/hider][/center] [center][b][sub]═══════ B A C K G R O U N D ══════[/sub][/b][/center] Isai's background is remarkably... varied to say the least, and superstitious at worst. He took after his father rather than his mother in his dominant traits, being born more of an Imperial than a Bosmer--which was uncommon enough to begin with--and he had a twin who the restorationists in Anvil suspected he ate in utero. His bosmer mother was from Anvil, not from Valenwood like many of the Colovians accused her of (though her ancestral memory ran strong in her blood), and Isai's father was from the Imperial City and born to a tiler of the city's streets, to whom his given middle name alludes to. He was born under the sign of the Ritual, but on the cusp of the Lover, and as the Serpent was travelling across the sky. So many strange happenings at once would make his father very nervous, but unfortunately Stephanus would not stay very long to care for the baby and returned to the Imperial City, since he and Isai's mother, Boniel, broke off their engagement. So it is for this reason, and among others to come that Isai has come to resent his father, while also finding great humor and irony in that what he did inherit from his father is that which comes further down his bloodline--for the man looked to be a proud Colovian imperial, whereas Isai inherited more Nibenese traits from much older and deader descendants. Naturally, single-parent living was going to be much harder. His mother, originally studying to be a mage, resorted to working nights as an entertainer and a dancer and living in a cabin in the cheapest part of Leyawiin to supplement the stipends received from the local lord for working their land. In the few hours that remained left in her day, she delivered Isai his homeschooled education. He was often babysat by his argonian neighbors he often had little clue on rearing a mammalian child as opposed to a clutch of eggs. Some of their appetites may have rubbed off on him, though now he would not likely stand to stomach most of it outside of the crawfish boils, cornbread, and baked bananas. His mother would eventually achieve the rank of apprentice within the Mage's Guild, and though she was a smart budding conjurer, barring the ability to conjure a warm house and filling meal, she wouldn't be able to save her income from drying up and her standing in the Mages Guild was only such that she could no longer to sustain even her meager housing, nor could she move her little family into the quarters of the guild. She had friends and connections with an entertainment troupe that they could travel with in caravan. Isai has since found it to be a consistently enrapturing conversation starter that the solution to poverty is to be kidnapped by "Daedra worshippers" and join the circus, or at least that's how he puts it. True, the caravanning troupe were performers and entertainers, actors and musicians, but they also carried with them some trade skills and general merchants. Many of them were of the buy-sell businessmen sort, and Isai would learn to pull his weight amidst this community. Though he never felt as if he was particularly good with numbers and money, he was good enough at working [i]people[/i] -- whether they were colleague or patron, always trying to get the best deal for himself, whether honest or swindle. It doesn't take much to become disillusioned with this lifestyle, especially if one is always looking up at the wealthy from the ranks below. Isai had a talent for reading and writing, something that his mother was keen to instill, and he often had little to do but read while on the road and acquiring books with what little money he'd earn. When the collection of books took up too much space or became too heavy, they were sold at the next stop. He became more immersed in the arts, history, magic, and cosmology. That was the stuff he [i]wanted [/i]to talk about at length, but at a [i]higher [/i]level. It was only a matter of time until he got tired of not being on the same intellectual level as most of his community and found a way out. Most of the retinue owed money to some lord who owned the land they originally lived on -- even Boniel. But clever Isai found a solution on his return to Leyawiin. While he worked for others in their homes to accumulate some wealth (and reading their books all the while), he collected swamp sludge and sewage from the surrounding area and directed it toward a naturally dry piece of land just outside of the walls and expressed interest in purchasing that land that was little more than 15x15 feet. Looking utterly worthless, Isai obtained it for almost literally a steal. While almost utterly uncultivatable, that wasn't the important part. By technicality, or fact, he now owned land. He upscaled his life from beginning from serfdom, to vagabond, domestic servant to, suddenly, a franklin -- a freeman, dispossessed of a lord. Seeing now that such mobility was possible, he wondered what it would take to achieve more. From the cabin he had built here began the rest of his life, writing books upon books and engaging with the local academics, and as he traveled the provinces to return to his humble abode, his history of publications grew: [list][*][i]Scamps of Avignaue[/i] [sub](A genuinely well-crafted novel centered around a fictional Breton kingdom that is rife with romance and poignant political analogues and commentary)[/sub] [*][i]Engaging the Works of Crassius Curio: A Deconstructionist Approach[/i] [sub](Feckless and vain efforts to critically analyze soft and hardcore smut)[/sub] [*][i]From the Blackwood[/i] [sub](An earnest attempt at poetry was made in this collection)[/sub] [*][i]Spinning Wheels: Observations of the Stars, the Serpent, and Aetherius[/i] [sub](Seen by experts as an amateur's entry into cosmology making peculiar speculations)[/sub] [*][i]69 Aphrodisiacs: Tried and Tested[/i] [sub](Tested is underlined on the cover)[/sub] [*][i]Halfway There: Extraplanar Conjuring and What Lies in the Threshold Between Realms[/i] [sub](An attempt to investigate the space between Mundus and the planes of Oblivion -- grants + ½ skill to Conjuration)[/sub] [*][i]Halfway There II: Padomaic/Sithic Principles, the Paradoxical Improbability of Void, and Absent Idols[/i] [sub](Continuation of prior research into sub-planar spaces and simultaneous challenge of metaphysical presence or expression of a "void," undermining the Dark Brotherhood's belief in Sithis)[/sub] [*][i]Halfway There III: Shadows as Aurbic Expressions of Padomay and Redacting Speculation of the Void[/i] [sub](Seems written under duress)[/sub] [*][i]On the Constitution of Man and its Relationship to External Objects[/i] [sub](Definitely not plagiarized)[/sub] [*][i]In Defense of the Arts[/i] [sub](Tone-deaf piece missing context of beggars given "enrichment" instead of food and shelter)[/sub] [*][i]Marble Spokes: Bridging Mundus to the Meta-Aurbis[/i] [sub](Raises more questions than it answers)[/sub] [*]"Spindle Enhancement Balms, 15 Septims" [sub](An ad placed in the Black Horse Courier)[/sub] [*][i]Much Ado About ALMSIVI[/i] [sub](Comparing the old Tribunal to the Mantling of Talos, he... wait, is this fanfiction?)[/sub][/list] And many more "highly acclaimed" publications that have somewhat ballooned his ego. Eventually, his travels took him to Cheydinhal, where he sought to curry Count Andel Indarys' favor, so as to increase in social rank once again and position himself among the landed gentry. There, he encountered a young but well-organized Imperial castle administrator, Verena Luscinia, with whom he was able to conspire with (and possibly bribe) to learn information about the good Count, what he liked and didn't like, the things he seemed insecure about, and the controversies around him. After spending a meager amount of time in the Newlands Lodge writing his newest book, [i]In Observance of Cheydinhal and Governance: Beauty, Culture, and Rumour[/i], which was full of tailored and piecemeal interviews from the citizens of the county and painted a flattering state of affairs for the city and its Count. He took extra care to emphasize records of the Count's humility and dispelling the rumors surrounding his qualifications and his wife's passing by utilizing formalist theory to use the front-facing appearance of the city as "evidence from the text" (so to speak) to support the Count's reputation. Through a combination of blowing smoke and pomp up the ass of Count Indarys, and a few well places signatures, check marks, and stamps from Verena Luscinia, Isai obtained legal evidence (through questionable means) of acquiring the courtesy title of esquire from County Cheydinhal, becoming formally recognized as a gentleman, though intending to perform no squirely duties on behalf of the Knights of the Thorn. From here on, he poached Verena as his own assistant, promising her adventure, excitement, and making a difference in the world... only to saddle her with carrying most of his stuff, few though they may be. Through thick and thin, they traveled together for almost a whole year, and eventually reached the Imperial City Arena by the skin of their teeth at Isai's behest, insisting that he recorded what was bound to be the greatest and most barbaric sporting event of the Era... only for fans to drunkenly riot, catching Isai and Verena in the mass arrest that occurred soon thereafter. He last remembers expressing excitement to Verena about how his readers would love to know what it's like to be in a bar fight before suddenly blacking out. [hr][center][sub][i]"I'll be the one to find it, I tell you! I'll crack the code and[/i] everyone [i]will remember me."[/i][/sub][/center][hr] [/hider] [hider=(MOBILE VERSION) Isai Tegulatoris Sutor-Armaseptus da Leyawiin, Esq.][INDENT][INDENT][CENTER][h3][b]I S A I T E G U L A T O R I S S U T O R - A R M A S E P T U S D A L E Y A W I I N , E S Q . [/b][/h3][hr][sub][i]"Paint me like one of thine Dunmer bonnies." [/i][/sub][/CENTER] [table][row][/row][row][cell][center][sub][b]════ C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T ════[/b][/sub] [sup]_______________________________________________[/sup][img]http://img.over-blog-kiwi.com/1/27/04/32/20150927/ob_6d1dbe_gustave-courbet-autoportrait-l-homm.JPG[/img] [sup]_______________________________________________[/sup] [suP][b]═══ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y ═══[/b][/suP] [sub][url=https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2JTYQ4PwwJ1BBWy9as69XO?si=k9uZINxISZmbC-qMysMQaA]Isai Tegulatoris Sutor-Armaseptus da Leyawiin, Esq.[/url] [sup]_______________________________________________[/sup] 29 [b]|[/b] He / Him [b]|[/b] Imperial / Bosmer [sup]_______________________________________________[/sup] Painter, Mage, Astronomer, Astrologist, Historian, Simp, Literary Critic, Writer (of Prose and Poetry), Theoretical Physicist, Phrenologist, and Philosopher[/sub][/center] [indent][sub][b]▼ P H Y S I C A L T R A I T S[/b][/SUB] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► [b]Build[/b] - Lithe and erect. ► [b]Skin Color[/b] - Of Mediterranean or Imperial likeness. ► [b]Hair Color[/b] - A dark walnut brown. ► [b]Eye Color[/b] - Blue.[/SUP] [SUB][b]▼ D O S S I E R[/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► [b]Birthplace[/b] - Leyawiin, Cyrodiil. ► [b]Birthsign[/b] - The Ritual. ► [b]Ambition[/b] - He wants to be as far away as he can from the dirt from whence he sprung, to climb station after station. He also wants to crack the cosmological code, and though he's unable to put it into exact words just yet, to understand the towers, mantling, and CHIM -- and he's woefully ignorant as to what that entails. [/SUP][/indent] [indent][sub][b]▼ F A V O R E D A T T R I B U T E S[/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► [abbr=His learnedness does not come from natural aptitude, but from the long sleepless nights and stubborn struggling.][b]Willpower[/b][/abbr] ► [abbr=Born disadvantaged and leveraged into opportunity by conning the advantaged that he is, in fact, one of them.][b]Intelligence[/b][/abbr][/sup] [SUB][b]▼ S K I L L S[/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► [b]Speechcraft[/b] - [abbr=Better in writing than in vocalization admittedly, though he is learned in matters of the heart, of the arts and of history and philosophy and all that which lies within the realm of culture, his reputation undermines his force of personality to fully exert its influence.]Adept[/abbr] ► [b]Conjuration[/b] - [abbr=When realities blend like colors.]Apprentice[/abbr] ► [b]Illusion[/b] - [abbr=The minds of men are woefully unprepared for those with stronger opinions on the matter.]Apprentice[/abbr] ► [b]Alteration[/b] - [abbr=Like the mind, so too does reality bend. With both in proper order, the pillars can be seen through the marble.]Apprentice[/abbr] ► [b]Mysticism[/b] - [abbr=What is magic if not the barest taste of the godhead?]Apprentice[/abbr] ► [b]Sneak[/b] - [abbr=Ever soft on his toes.]Novice[/abbr] ► [b]One-Handed[/b] - [abbr=The force it takes to cut skin entirely depends on the blade and on what you're cutting. A well sharpened scalpel can pierce treated leather with a only a nudge if applied correctly.] Novice[/abbr] ► [b]Marksman[/b] - [abbr=What was once purely recreational has now become all but a necessary skill on the road. A book takes forever to write, publish, and distribute before you find your first septim from it--a single arrow and a large buck takes only an instant.]Novice[/abbr] ► [b]Smithing[/b] - [abbr=You're going to learn why mechanics hate soft-palmed engineers.]Novice[/abbr][/SUP] [SUB][b]▼ M A G I C & S P E L L S[/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► [b]Conjuration[/b] - Bound Dagger, Summon Scamp ► [b]Illusion[/b] - Clairvoyance, Command ► [b]Alteration[/b] - Open Lock, Magelight, Equilibrium ► [b]Mysticism[/b] - Dispel, Dispel Other, Soul Trap [/sup] [SUB][b]▼ E Q U I P M E N T[/b][/sub] [sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► [b]Personal Items[/b] - Aside from his clothes and a sachet of tea in his pocket, he hasa satchel carrying little more than a journal, a bunch of loose papers, a quill deemed too cheaply made to be considered a weapon, a handful of septims, house key, some stamps and seals, and a separately kept cheesecloth of venison jerky, nuts, and roots. ► [b]The Lock Box[/b] - A flimsy wooden letter opener and a "waterskin" filled with wine, considered to be contraband. ► [b]Stored Items[/b] - Somewhere in Leyawiin sits a simple cabin with many books, papers, and documents; the most important of which are under the floorboards, under a rug, under the bed, and in an airtight box. Oh, and does Verena count? She's in prison too and was supposed to carry a bunch of toiletries and other things -- when are we getting those back by the way? [/sup][/indent][hr] [/cell][cell][center][b][sub]════ A P P E A R A N C E ════[/sub][/b][/center] "Egad, who is't this knave ere me? Who is't he who wears the drapes of a lord without the filigree and station to whomst his dress deserves? This lad, this rapscallion, this wretch who is't saunters through Cheydinhall, prances about Skingrad, and canters 'round the Imperial City like some misbegotten beggar prince who is't swindles the valorous perceptions of the peasantries too naive or witless to behold his true nature?" -- Palonirya, esteemed Imperial City couturier Such is one of the many stellar reviews of Isai's presumed character but veritably affirms the suspicions one may have upon visitation of him. He offers an aesthetic that can only be ascertained as some Bretony fad, "baroque chic, baroque genre," falling just short of the haute couture he roleplays as. So, while his fashion presents the haunting shade of an elite-class academic, his disposition appears bereft of the customary mannerisms and tics that betray them, only managing to caricaturize those he impersonates... but it's [i]understated[/i]. There's no doubt he takes care of his appearance, as his dress is designed and tailored to insinuate a higher class that is dressing down, but only to the extent of denoting a certain humility that screams "I could be adorned head to toe in pearls, but I'm not, see? I'm so likable, but also, not like [i]you[/i]." The fashion choice in question is expressed with an almost-perfectly tailored cassock with a likeness to a liturgical vestment, were it not embroidered with same-colored Toile de Jouy patterns overlayed by a conflicting gold Jacquard, unintentionally symbolic of the bucolic and pastoral backdrop of his life blending and hiding in the tapestry of his life, shocked by the glittering distractions of opulence and indulgence. The cassock, typically unbuttoned at the top and almost thick enough to be mistaken for a gambeson, contrasts against silken white shirt underneath, and makes him appear somewhat top-heavy with the pansied slops he wears as his leggings, but are rebalanced by some riding boots (meant to suggest the ownership of a horse [he does not own a horse]) that unfortunately just give his legs the appearance of twigs supporting his otherwise heavy silhouette. His long brown hair is well groomed, as is the notably Nibenese-Imperial fashioned facial hair, and they frame and accessorize an oval head, hard at work to mislead the eye and suggest some of the absent chiseled-ness he might desire. [/cell][/row][/table][/indent][/indent] He is a fairly thin man, generally speaking, lacking a sort of cut fitness that he desires but lacking the interest in exerting the physical effort to obtain it, but also having a slight belly that lets you know that he routinely samples the best of the world's foods like Breton honey cakes and spicy wyress wine, Altmeri golden pear punch, Imperial dormice with marrow sauce, or a Dunmeri curried kwama scrib risotto. Conveniently, or perhaps by design, his cassock somehow both hides and flatters his figure. He is somewhat tall, but not particularly intimidating at 5'10". All this to say, Isai looks younger than his years and the pep in his step instills in the passive observer a sense of energy and dynamism that undercuts a boyish charm. His presentation disarms and distracts from a genuinely curious mind trying to crack some kind of esoteric code not readily apparent to others. [center][b][sub]═══════ P E R S O N A L I T Y ══════[/sub][/b][/center] Isai is an Imperial man (alleging to be half-Bosmer on his mother's side) with a wide range of self-ascribed titles relating to the arts, sciences, pseudo-sciences, philosophy, and magical studies. However, he is perhaps best known as an author who has and will write about anything and everything, though it is unclear whether it be from genuine academic interest/artistic expression or because he likes the attention of being heard and seen. He is also known for having an inclination towards being melodramatic. A true renaissance man, he doesn't purport to be an expert in any one field, but it cannot be denied even by those chagrined by his self-indulgent behavior that he is very knowledgeable about a wide breadth of topics, even if some of them may be misinformed. He seems most interested in the world history of Tamriel, its mortal denizens, and the cosmology of the universe which provides magicka, gods, and daedra. In league with such interests, he possesses apprentice-level knowledge of conjuration, alteration, and mysticism, as well as apprentice-level knowledge of the illusion school, only being invested insofar as to only become versed in the nature of illusions so as to “study how the mind behaves within its confines, and shatter that which allows reality to allude." ...Whatever that means. His clear eccentricities notwithstanding, he is a man who mostly has his wits about him in most situations. He’s an advocate for “training the mind,” being a considerable fan of theory — no matter the discipline — and appearing notably excitable when broaching even the most esoteric and cerebral topics of conversations. That said, his interest in such unsubstantive ideas like creation that evade or bewilder even most existential philosophers and conjurers. He has studied figures and events such as Tiber Septim, the ALMSIVI, the towers, and the Dragon Break extensively, even if the most regarded research is still little more than speculative theory and intellectual junk food. Such is the reason for his studies into magics that reach across the planes, alter reality, influence minds, and its own essence. Isai is ambitious if nothing else, always wanting a little more and not really caring about the means to seize it. He has an appreciation for law if not a respect for it, preferring to use it for his purposes and bending them if he can’t, but never brashly breaking them if he can help it. There is a limit to what he’ll do, as he wouldn’t dare, say, making a human sacrifice in a daedric ritual, though it’s hard to say if that’s simply because he doesn’t have the stomach for it, but he at least purports to have a moral code of not deliberately hurting anyone despite all of his seeming faults, he is undeniably a friendly person, and whether or not he remembers your name being beside the point, you are sure to feel welcomed and flattered in his presence, and if one is so keen, to enjoy a cold night made warmer. He enjoys traveling between the provinces to see the world and to document history as it occurs. [center][b][sub]═══════ S K I L L S (E X T E N D E D) ══════[/sub][/b] [hider=Skills (Extended)][b]SPEECH[/b] Isai may not be the quintessential bard with lute in hand as Tamriel understands it, but his function is none less impactful with his dissemination of information. Speechcraft is just as much a level of literacy as it is the proficiency to persuade, as to master rhetoric is to understand language in many forms and functions; to resist propaganda or perpetuate it. His familiarity and comfort with the arts, philosophy, politics, and history, with toes dipped into understanding magic, enables him to dance and perform in many intellectual arenas or get what he needs out of most people. It is now also how he earns most of his income. [b]MAGIC[/b] Isai's interest in [u]Conjuration[/u], [u]Alteration[/u], [u]Illusion[/u], and [u]Mysticism[/u] are not arbitrary decisions, as he believes that the study of magic helps him investigate the fabric of Aurbis and spirit of Anu. Destruction is, to him, a useless school because it takes magic to recreate the physical phenomenon that occurs on Mundus for the purpose of physically changing the environment within the closed system of reality's laws, whereas Alteration bends those laws itself. He studies Illusion to study the mind and metamagical or aethersynaptic entanglement, or how magic from Aetherius influences the mind and its senses and prevents it from seeing what is real. Mysticism is the study of magic itself, of course. Conjuration is the school of magic that, while is at the same practical level, is supposedly his specialty and operates on the highest theoretical level, as it expresses the movement between planes and potentially throughout the Aurbis itself. However, he is keen to not advance too far into these fields past the adept level, because he fears that working too deeply in one's school constrains thought to laboring within their laws and rules. By never becoming an expert in a school of magic, he believes he won't become too invested or confined by its scholarly tradition. He has little consideration for any practical applications of the magic he studies, but he supposes that if he is held up in a highway mugging, he can summon a knife in his hand just to get his ass beat worse. He supposes that trying to bend his assailant's mind works less in his favor if he fails, because even if it has the best potential outcome, failure means he doesn't even have a knife and the opportunity to bluff. Summoning scamps are often more trouble than they're worth, but they are still his best bet in a scrape: summon and run and hope there aren't any authorities nearby witnessing you summon daedra. Clairvoyance is his most practical spell, as it helps direct him where to go while on the road followed by magelight -- a midnight writer's non-flammable lighting option. Mysticism is almost entirely based in theory. He learned how to cast soul trap on himself then immediately panicked and had to learn how to dispel it. [B]SNEAK[/B] He's a sneaky guy. Is he a super sneaky guy? Not really. Twigs have snapped underfoot, but he's no assassin - he's just an intellectual charlatan who sometimes gets himself into sticky situations he has a hard time running out of. What's a man to do? Hug the wall and pray someone doesn't see you. One may even say that the theory of sneakiness is deep in his bones via some underhanded methods, but erasing his presence from others' senses is a skill he does not have. [b]ONE-HANDED[/B] He's not a swordsman; he just assumes it is expected of him to have some swordsmanship ability as a gentleman. Like fencing and such, only he's not very good at it. He can conjure a dagger for you to laugh at, but it's weightless and sharp as sin, so it's still worth your consideration. Laugh only briefly, because it doesn't take much to bleed a pig. [b]MARKSMAN[/b] His mother is a Bosmer, and although that doesn't automatically default her or her son with skill with a bow, she [i]does[/i] know how to use one and imparted that knowledge onto her son while on the road. While it started as recreation, she did stress the importance of being able to acquire game and food. While Isai is not much of a chef, a lucky shot means he can bring a buck into town to sell for enough money to get some food and a comfortable night in an inn bed. [b]SMITHING[/B] Probably even worse than a novice. He has a lot of theoretical knowledge of construction, engineering, and maths, but he lacks any practical competency with hardware and no desire to exert the physical effort. He can come up with the ideas, but he's just an ideas guy. He'll tell you what to do if you're so inclined to build a wagon for him.[/hider][/center] [center][b][sub]═══════ B A C K G R O U N D ══════[/sub][/b][/center] Isai's background is remarkably... varied to say the least, and superstitious at worst. He took after his father rather than his mother in his dominant traits, being born more of an Imperial than a Bosmer--which was uncommon enough to begin with--and he had a twin who the restorationists in Anvil suspected he ate in utero. His bosmer mother was from Anvil, not from Valenwood like many of the Colovians accused her of (though her ancestral memory ran strong in her blood), and Isai's father was from the Imperial City and born to a tiler of the city's streets, to whom his given middle name alludes to. He was born under the sign of the Ritual, but on the cusp of the Lover, and as the Serpent was travelling across the sky. So many strange happenings at once would make his father very nervous, but unfortunately Stephanus would not stay very long to care for the baby and returned to the Imperial City, since he and Isai's mother, Boniel, broke off their engagement. So it is for this reason, and among others to come that Isai has come to resent his father, while also finding great humor and irony in that what he did inherit from his father is that which comes further down his bloodline--for the man looked to be a proud Colovian imperial, whereas Isai inherited more Nibenese traits from much older and deader descendants. Naturally, single-parent living was going to be much harder. His mother, originally studying to be a mage, resorted to working nights as an entertainer and a dancer and living in a cabin in the cheapest part of Leyawiin to supplement the stipends received from the local lord for working their land. In the few hours that remained left in her day, she delivered Isai his homeschooled education. He was often babysat by his argonian neighbors he often had little clue on rearing a mammalian child as opposed to a clutch of eggs. Some of their appetites may have rubbed off on him, though now he would not likely stand to stomach most of it outside of the crawfish boils, cornbread, and baked bananas. His mother would eventually achieve the rank of apprentice within the Mage's Guild, and though she was a smart budding conjurer, barring the ability to conjure a warm house and filling meal, she wouldn't be able to save her income from drying up and her standing in the Mages Guild was only such that she could no longer to sustain even her meager housing, nor could she move her little family into the quarters of the guild. She had friends and connections with an entertainment troupe that they could travel with in caravan. Isai has since found it to be a consistently enrapturing conversation starter that the solution to poverty is to be kidnapped by "Daedra worshippers" and join the circus, or at least that's how he puts it. True, the caravanning troupe were performers and entertainers, actors and musicians, but they also carried with them some trade skills and general merchants. Many of them were of the buy-sell businessmen sort, and Isai would learn to pull his weight amidst this community. Though he never felt as if he was particularly good with numbers and money, he was good enough at working [i]people[/i] -- whether they were colleague or patron, always trying to get the best deal for himself, whether honest or swindle. It doesn't take much to become disillusioned with this lifestyle, especially if one is always looking up at the wealthy from the ranks below. Isai had a talent for reading and writing, something that his mother was keen to instill, and he often had little to do but read while on the road and acquiring books with what little money he'd earn. When the collection of books took up too much space or became too heavy, they were sold at the next stop. He became more immersed in the arts, history, magic, and cosmology. That was the stuff he [i]wanted [/i]to talk about at length, but at a [i]higher [/i]level. It was only a matter of time until he got tired of not being on the same intellectual level as most of his community and found a way out. Most of the retinue owed money to some lord who owned the land they originally lived on -- even Boniel. But clever Isai found a solution on his return to Leyawiin. While he worked for others in their homes to accumulate some wealth (and reading their books all the while), he collected swamp sludge and sewage from the surrounding area and directed it toward a naturally dry piece of land just outside of the walls and expressed interest in purchasing that land that was little more than 15x15 feet. Looking utterly worthless, Isai obtained it for almost literally a steal. While almost utterly uncultivatable, that wasn't the important part. By technicality, or fact, he now owned land. He upscaled his life from beginning from serfdom, to vagabond, domestic servant to, suddenly, a franklin -- a freeman, dispossessed of a lord. Seeing now that such mobility was possible, he wondered what it would take to achieve more. From the cabin he had built here began the rest of his life, writing books upon books and engaging with the local academics, and as he traveled the provinces to return to his humble abode, his history of publications grew: [list][*][i]Scamps of Avignaue[/i] [sub](A genuinely well-crafted novel centered around a fictional Breton kingdom that is rife with romance and poignant political analogues and commentary)[/sub] [*][i]Engaging the Works of Crassius Curio: A Deconstructionist Approach[/i] [sub](Feckless and vain efforts to critically analyze soft and hardcore smut)[/sub] [*][i]From the Blackwood[/i] [sub](An earnest attempt at poetry was made in this collection)[/sub] [*][i]Spinning Wheels: Observations of the Stars, the Serpent, and Aetherius[/i] [sub](Seen by experts as an amateur's entry into cosmology making peculiar speculations)[/sub] [*][i]69 Aphrodisiacs: Tried and Tested[/i] [sub](Tested is underlined on the cover)[/sub] [*][i]Halfway There: Extraplanar Conjuring and What Lies in the Threshold Between Realms[/i] [sub](An attempt to investigate the space between Mundus and the planes of Oblivion -- grants + ½ skill to Conjuration)[/sub] [*][i]Halfway There II: Padomaic/Sithic Principles, the Paradoxical Improbability of Void, and Absent Idols[/i] [sub](Continuation of prior research into sub-planar spaces and simultaneous challenge of metaphysical presence or expression of a "void," undermining the Dark Brotherhood's belief in Sithis)[/sub] [*][i]Halfway There III: Shadows as Aurbic Expressions of Padomay and Redacting Speculation of the Void[/i] [sub](Seems written under duress)[/sub] [*][i]On the Constitution of Man and its Relationship to External Objects[/i] [sub](Definitely not plagiarized)[/sub] [*][i]In Defense of the Arts[/i] [sub](Tone-deaf piece missing context of beggars given "enrichment" instead of food and shelter)[/sub] [*][i]Marble Spokes: Bridging Mundus to the Meta-Aurbis[/i] [sub](Raises more questions than it answers)[/sub] [*]"Spindle Enhancement Balms, 15 Septims" [sub](An ad placed in the Black Horse Courier)[/sub] [*][i]Much Ado About ALMSIVI[/i] [sub](Comparing the old Tribunal to the Mantling of Talos, he... wait, is this fanfiction?)[/sub][/list] And many more "highly acclaimed" publications that have somewhat ballooned his ego. Eventually, his travels took him to Cheydinhal, where he sought to curry Count Andel Indarys' favor, so as to increase in social rank once again and position himself among the landed gentry. There, he encountered a young but well-organized Imperial castle administrator, Verena Luscinia, with whom he was able to conspire with (and possibly bribe) to learn information about the good Count, what he liked and didn't like, the things he seemed insecure about, and the controversies around him. After spending a meager amount of time in the Newlands Lodge writing his newest book, [i]In Observance of Cheydinhal and Governance: Beauty, Culture, and Rumour[/i], which was full of tailored and piecemeal interviews from the citizens of the county and painted a flattering state of affairs for the city and its Count. He took extra care to emphasize records of the Count's humility and dispelling the rumors surrounding his qualifications and his wife's passing by utilizing formalist theory to use the front-facing appearance of the city as "evidence from the text" (so to speak) to support the Count's reputation. Through a combination of blowing smoke and pomp up the ass of Count Indarys, and a few well places signatures, check marks, and stamps from Verena Luscinia, Isai obtained legal evidence (through questionable means) of acquiring the courtesy title of esquire from County Cheydinhal, becoming formally recognized as a gentleman, though intending to perform no squirely duties on behalf of the Knights of the Thorn. From here on, he poached Verena as his own assistant, promising her adventure, excitement, and making a difference in the world... only to saddle her with carrying most of his stuff, few though they may be. Through thick and thin, they traveled together for almost a whole year, and eventually reached the Imperial City Arena by the skin of their teeth at Isai's behest, insisting that he recorded what was bound to be the greatest and most barbaric sporting event of the Era... only for fans to drunkenly riot, catching Isai and Verena in the mass arrest that occurred soon thereafter. He last remembers expressing excitement to Verena about how his readers would love to know what it's like to be in a bar fight before suddenly blacking out. [hr][center][sub][i]"I'll be the one to find it, I tell you! I'll crack the code and[/i] everyone [i]will remember me."[/i][/sub][/center][hr] [/hider]