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8 yrs ago
Current Acquire child.
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Righteous. I can already see the trainwreck of interactions to come.

Character sheet transferred, and acceptable faceclaim deployed. Not exactly what I'd imagined in my head, but it does the job sufficiently.
Attendant Satiah


Height: 5'10" (178cm)
Personal Information

Name: Satiah
Alias: The General's Favored Servant; Saty
Sex: Female
Age: 21
Date of Birth: September 12
Appearance: As a tall young lady with a well-built form and an imposing silhouette, one could be forgiven for believing Satiah to be some kind of stoic brute at the service of her liege - an impression which usually fades immediately after she opens her mouth. Her hair and eyes aren't as notable as her form, being black and brown, respectively. She keeps her hair in an untidy bob that terminates just below chin-length. As far as fashion goes, she shows a preference for conservative layers of dark, simply-designed and loose-fitting robes. Underneath, she wears simple sheathe skirt and banded sandals.
Personality: There is a saying that servants and children should be seen, not heard. In a way, this applies to Satiah equivocally. With social graces that have long since atrophied from disuse, maintaining silence is not an unusual command for her to hear, and one she understands the rationale behind very well. However at the same time, she is her father's daughter, and can be quite vocal when the occasion presents itself - a scenario which, given her new station, has a good chance of becoming "most of the time". Clearly this is a combination of traits that spells disaster, but there is a reason she's been called "a misguided fool who stands a good chance at dying futilely in an effort to prove herself" by her mentor more than once.

Fortunately, there's also a saying that the gods take care of fools; not that this would cause Satiah any great relief, for such a possibility runs completely contrary to the convictions carved into her being. And more than gods, more than gold and more than glory, there is nothing that Satiah believes in more than her convictions, almost to a martyresque extent. In that sense, she could be considered a sort of magician in her own right - a devotee who creates mysteries through force of industry rather than divine petition. Although at the same time, there is something about her bearing and dogged adherence to beliefs that suggests a cornered rat.

But why wouldn't they? Her enemy is none other than the system of the world itself, and her beliefs have long since crossed into heresy. The gods who play their games with the fate of humanity, and the kings who wield their supposed birthrights like a sword, amassing power while their people burn. Such are the truths that Satiah holds in highest disdain, but they are also the realities by which the world she lives is run. If life is to be improved for all, then the scales of the past law must be cast aside. Indeed, while her dedication is her greatest virtue, it is also her greatest hubris. Regardless, only time will tell if things truly can change, or if she is simply deluding herself.

As far as her conduct goes, Satiah is overall someone that is earnest but provincial, with an aura of underlying intensity that pervades her deeds. Well-intentioned but not necessarily kind, and chronically incapable of half-assing anything, hers is a pure but misguided sense of justice. She respects honesty, audacity, and individuals of great dedication (even if what they are dedicated to opposes her own beliefs), and cannot stand the roundabout nature of politics or bush-beating. A fool to the very end.
Biography: Where there is a king, there will always be those who oppose his rule. Satiah's father Hakor, a prominent and charismatic military leader, was one of these people, as were her brothers Siamun, Ahmose, and Muthis. They paid for their treason with their lives, disgraced and executed after leading a revolt against Pharaoh Thutmose. A similar fate was to fall upon the young Satiah and her mother Ipu, but they were spared due to the efforts of one of her father's former subordinates, a rising star in the navy named Khay, and consigned to a life of slavery under him instead.

She would not understand why until she was far older, but it was still life and for that Satiah and her mother were grateful. However the ideals of her father had already stuck into her young mind, and the life of a slave only served to ingrain them deeper into her traumatized psyche and create a deeper awareness of what her family considered symptomatic of the world's evils. It was around this point that she determined that something had to be done, and that if nobody was willing to do it, she would have to. But of course, being a slave, the young girl had no means to achieve such a goal; so she decided to make herself indispensable in the service of her master as means of acquiring some vague notion of an opportunity that she assumed she'd gain.

Which she did.

At the twilight of her adolescence, Khay, hearing of his slave's deviant philosophies, had revealed himself to Satiah and her mother one of Hakor's proponents, but one too afraid (or perhaps wise enough not) to follow him into revolution. Allowing them to live safely was to be his way of paying the man back, but it was clear by Satiah's vocality on the issue of populism that such a thing was not to happen. So instead, he decided he would train Satiah, make her strong, and in doing so, perhaps enable her to incite change - though not as violently as her father had attempted. But when it became clear that she'd possessed no natural talent and was inherently incapable of dedicating herself to a god through the years of petition required, Khay decided to cut his losses and abandon the project; for without powerful magic at her beck and call, what hope did a slave have of rising in status?

Despite this conclusion, Satiah remained unfazed. Rather than resign herself to mere mortality, she was determined to demonstrate that although she was doomed to mortality, she was no lesser than any magician. She was not granted power, so the fact that she had been turned away from for not performing well was simply natural to her. Instead, through excruciating perseverance, she was determined to earn it.

And slowly but surely, the officer's eye turned back on the revolutionary's daughter, and after the umpteenth request, was only barely disposed enough to continue instructing her. But instead of wasting time behind closed doors in the wee hours of the night, Satiah would be forced to prove herself on the battlefield when Khay - now a general - brought her along with him on his campaign in western Asia.

Taking a laissez-faire approach to his protege, Khay had Satiah unofficially take responsibility for a small, disreputable section of his army by acting as a messenger issuing "his" commands. Success and failure were to be her teachers now, and by the end of the campaign, she knew them both well. That said, it did not take too long for people to catch on, as the chance in tactics was quite glaring, but at the end of the day, Satiah had succeeded in her goal: she managed to successfully acquire a reputation among those in power - if only out of novelty's sake, and oft to make jokes at her expense. And by that point, it had become an open secret that she was the strategist behind her regiment's upward trend.

When Pharaoh Thutmose died and the military was to issue a representative to the young princeling, the upper echelons of the military were confident that their general would choose someone suitable for the task. In hindsight, what did happen should have been immediately obvious, but nobody really expected the savvy general to put the daughter of a prominent revolutionary in such a precarious position. But he did. He chose Satiah, fulfilling the promise he'd made for her all those years ago.

And now making her ideals a reality falls upon herself, and herself alone.
Combat Information

Magician: No
Deity: N/A
Equipment:
  • Bow and Quiver - The principle weapon of the Egyptian military, historically speaking. As far as appearances go, it's a rather nondescript armament, clear of decor and simply strung - the kind you could pick up at any garrison. The leather quiver worn across her back is likewise lacking in decoration. A very standard weapon through and through. That said, the way Satiah wields her bow can hardly be called standard style. Fortunately, archery is not her most potent means of conducting combat, just a secondary methodology that she bears a sufficient degree of proficiency with.

Ability:
  • Combat Analysis - Heightened analytical and observational capacity refined by a hellish combination of training, experience, and singleminded dedication to the art and science of battle, at the cost of proper etiquette and decent general education. The product of countless hours sparring against mortal and mage alike, and leading missions across western Asia. Although translatable to small unit tactical functions, due to the biases of her personality clashing with the reality of large scale conflicts, it loses efficacy as the amount of people she needs to look after grows. At the same time, because of those biases, it bears special effectiveness against enemies of a magical bend.
  • Hand to Hand Combat - Satiah's true weapon of choice none other than her body. As refining the state of the body was oft the priority of her training, this struck her as the next logical step. After all, more potent than any mundane blade is a body reinforced by essence, and there is no little surprise in an archer who cuts the distance to level a powerful fist into a complacent opponent's core vitals. Besides, anything that conserves time is a blessing to someone who has a very tight schedule.
  • Servantry - As someone who'd lived as a slave for the vast majority of her life, Satiah is capable of undertaking all sorts of household chores and fieldwork. This also includes utilities of a military persuasion, such as chariot driving, camp setting, and so on.
  • Faux Pas - Denotes Satiah's... unique competence in politically important situations. A dangerous ability.

Techniques:
Parameters

Essence: 3 / 5
Attunement: - / 5
Magic: - / 5
Strength: 4 / 5
Speed: 4 / 5
Body: 5 / 5
Wisdom: 1 / 5
Haven't found a picture I liked yet, but it should be good to go except for techniques, which I have in mind but need to think up snazzy names for before I put them down.

But anyway, here's the populist agenda.

Stats will be added whenever.

Berserker
11.5th Floor Hotel Room
Interacting with: @Turboshitter Albert Prelati, @VanceXentan Lancelot, Leon Winchester, Beowulf, Bozo the Suicide Bomber, Spoopy Skeltan Man


Now, there were a lot of comments Roland took issue with, but she was capable of easily dismissing them as simply the ramblings of a heretical fool, the mask of a clown only completing such an image. And what king gets angry at their jester? Exactly, which was why the woman simply snorted and gave a dismissive handwave in response to the masked man’s tirade, explaining: “Cleansing heresy takes many forms, sometimes vampires and magi, sometimes Saracens and their eastern monsters. A monster who changes their body by the light of the moon, and a nation that consorts with devils are cut from the same cloth.”

She rested her chin on the pommel of Durendal, and turned her head to Beowulf. “What unique company you keep, Bear of the Geats,” she remarked. “As many issues as we have between ourselves, I pity your fortune, being leashed to someone who treats you as a tool to use.”

The next she was to address was Saber, whose knightly rhetoric resonated with the berserker’s chivalric nature. But regardless, she still had reservations trusting that anathemic abomination. Still… “Hn. I am used to taking leaps of faith, but it will be regretful to see someone of your ilk perish so dishonorably, should the worst come to past.” She placed her hand on the hilt of the blade, preparing to drop the boundary. “But like yourself, I do not speak on my own behalf - I shall see what my Master believes. Au revoir, Saber and Leon.”

And soon after, all hell broke loose.

“...Nice. ‘Doubling down’, as you say - I like it,” Berserker grinned, pulling the sword from the floor and disintegrating the field, just as Beowulf slammed his fist into his own Master, triggering the collapse of the building. The hotel swayed as its foundations burst. The enemy team had already made their escape, so now it was up to them to make their own; what a waste that bomb had ended up being.

Roland grabbed her Master by the collar, threw him over her shoulder, and kicked a hole in the opposite wall. Below them, twelve storeys of air, and then cold concrete lay. “Well, Master,” Roland said, “Hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

She leapt.


Prof. Sosthenes Antaeoi Kanakaris
Mizushima Household, 2:06AM
Interacting with: @Eklispe Cu Chulainn, @1Charak2 Medusa, @Turboshitter Ren Mizushima


Sosthenes could hear people talking shit downstairs, but fortunately he was a university professor so he was used to that kind of thing. They could throw all the shade they wanted, but he was still the beacon enlightening the masses and ensuring that they could live out the rest of their lives with a knowledge of things that may or may not be relevant in the future. So he let the haters hate, he would simply laugh because they were fake.

He popped into the room and fired a set of finger pistols at Medusa. “That’s just, like, your opinion, Rider,” he countered dismissively, “Now if you excuse me, I’m going to be contributing to the fortifications so Assassin or some such doesn’t slit our necks in our sleep!”

’Lancer, when you get the chance, can you set up some defensive rune arrays around the household?’ he asked, bending over in the basement to set up some standard defensive fields, ’Also, you have my permission to seek out a fight or scout out the competition if you so desire, so long as the house is ‘cleaned up’ as it were. I trust my apprentice well enough not to kill me in cold blood like the Brutus to my Caesar, and I trust the skills of a hero such as you to operate without my direct supervision.’
@BlazeGamma No prob. I'll have one out soon-ish.
I will join this
Berserker
11.5th Floor Hotel Room
Interacting with: @Turboshitter Albert Prelati, @VanceXentan Lancelot, Leon Winchester, Beowulf, Bozo the Suicide Bomber, Spoopy Skeltan Man


Roland was all smiles and calmness. Quite zen, all things considered - a battle derailed, two Servant identities out, the presence of religious heretics, and the sheer overall farcicality of this makeshift tea party. From her comfortable, if dusty, seat, she drank the cheap drink like she was in the midst of a manor’s salon.

Standing from her seat to get a refill, she spoke to Beowulf: “Yes, I am certainly an exceptional hero. Compliments to yourself likewise - not many can boast of withstanding the stroke of Durendal. But I’d hold my tongue about it; this ‘stupid blade’ is the sharpest one in all existence.” She dipped the low-quality bag into the heated water a few times, and continued, walking a circle around her blade, her finger anchoring her arc around the pommel until she let go gently. “Do remember there is no rule saying that the ‘teacher’-” she said the word disdainfully “-cannot be defeated by the ‘student’.”

Roland’s lips curled into a keen grin. “Though I will say your comment is quite interesting. The only warriors to bear this blade are myself, and my esteemed ancestor - your first enemy certainly wasn’t me, and if it is not him, well... “ She didn’t say anything else on that, but it was clear what the threat to this unspoken enemy was.

She addressed the masked leader next.

“Burn one of your Seals if you wish; trust is not something that comes easy - especially to a man who breaks his faith as easily as he asks others to keep theirs.”

Then, when Saber spoke, Roland didn’t waste a single second to answer his question, nor did she waste a single breath on an answer longer than it needed to be.

“Yes.”

It was an answer filled to the brim with a clear sense of rejection on part of the speaker. She knew not of Saber’s own experience with the machinations of man, but if there was anything she knew well, it was of the inherently disparate nature of humanity. Faith and goodness went hand in hand with the legend of the paladin, but so did betrayal and duplicity.

“Who regards ancient tomes as truth when actions speak truer? Who listens to the opinion of a populace held under rule of a tyrant?” she asked rhetorically, “The evidence lies before you thusly. You were paying attention, were you not? How can you be so naive? No man can serve two masters. Like God and wealth, one cannot act on behalf of both their warrior’s pride and the leadership of an honorless infidel.”

She side-eyed the man as she faced Team Saber.

“Would you endanger your liege so easily, Saber? It's better this way.”
Well this is awkward.
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