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Sayyid

Oracle. Shaman. Oathbreaker.

0 · 534 views · located in The Boiling Plains

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Gasmask

Description

Image
Sayyid has the appearance of a raggedy adventurer, his long black hair draped around his shoulders that smells of heavy incense and lavender, unkempt goatee and a collection of necklaces made out of demon teeth, animal claws and other trinkets.

Sayyid Oathbreaker once served as a village shaman in the outskirts of some tribal realm, serving his people faithfully till he met the love of his life, it was only a month before they were betrothed to each-other. Before the day of the wedding, Oathbreaker decided to cast the bones and see where his relationship would go... The sorcerer fled that very night, leaving his village and escaping into the night with a broken heart and utterly petrified at what the future held for him.

Sayyid left with the name Oathbreaker and with nothing but the charms and armour upon his back.


Spells & Abilities:
Sayyid has studied many forms of sorcery and divination, a skilled seer with the guts of dragons and princes. The oracle knows how to cast simple shields, see the future and throw fireballs, just like any other mage worth his salt.

However, Sayyid has an aptitude for seeing the future and enchantment. The catch is that his magic is purely fuelled by the lifeblood of others. Guts, blood and drugs power the enchantments and give unique insight to Sayyid.

The more powerful enchantment and the more detailed the predictions get, the more blood is needed.

Charms:

A small sculpture of a face hangs from Sayyid's belt, the face is the artistic visage of some forgotten deity. The trinket gives the wearer an unyielding immunity to mental attacks, any of those who attempt to read his mind and subjected to various debauched and disturbing mental images of torture, killings and other unspeakable things.

Two necklaces swing from Oathbreaker's neck.

The first is the tooth of a shark, viciously sharp and supposedly gives the wearer the senses of said predator. The downside to such a trinket is that it also gives the wearer the weaknesses of a shark.

The second necklace is of an oversized talon. An educated guess would be that it once belonged on the paw of a mighty dragon. The truth is that it once belonged on the wing-tip of a wyvern, still amazingly poisonous since it's removal. The talon gives it's bearer the ability to secrete poison from their fingertips. The poison is highly venomous, and causes the blood to thicken and congeal slowly within the veins.

So begins...

Sayyid's Story

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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#, as written by Gasmask
There was a figure in the winds, standing in-front of the woman, though a few meters off. The obviously male figure wore the boiled leathery remains of some creature, and his hair was covered in sand and his lips were grey and cracked. Wherever he had come from. It hadn't been kind.

Hsssss.

"Water." The stranger tried to shout into the wind, stumbling torwards her with increasing speed, his gnarled wreck of a staff keeping his famished body up. "Do you have water?" The voice repeated, harsh and punctuated with coughs. "I can't find an-" The figure coughed and held out his hands towards her, stopping at what he deemed a safe distance.

Whoever he was, he was cautious.

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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The woman came to a halt at a respectable distance, icy blue eyes surveying him levelly. Her fingers lightly brushed against the simple white bracelet upon her wrist subconsciously. "I do," she replied, reaching for the small bag at her side and pulling a leather skin of water from it. "I ask only one thing in exchange. Tell me, what is this place?"

Her voice had a light accent to it, carrying hints of what sounded like french and spanish. Despite her 'bargain', the woman tossed the water skin over to the man without waiting for a reply.

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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#, as written by Gasmask
The red, hazy eyes stared right back at her studying gaze. The man took a wild grab for the water skin, missed it and picked it up off the ground and tipping his head back and swallowed as much water as he could. The sweet liquid he had missed wandering the broken road of this accursed wasteland.

The stranger stopped before he had drunk it all and passed it back with a reluctant pass. The man coughed a few times as the water reinvigorated his insides, which had gotten used to the taste of dirt and the blood of wandering animals. "You don't know?" The figure asked, dumbfounded.

How could one find there way here without knowing?

"You're in the wastelands. Behind me lies nothing, you're heading towards more of this sickening waste. I can't find an escape. I thought I'd starve to death. Who're you?" The man leaned forward, gazing with his one good eye that wasn't covered in sand.

"You're an illusion or a ghost. The spirits want me back, don't they?"

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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"I am Anvaera Ilsai," the woman replied, "And I am neither an illusion nor a ghost. I am of the Verità Siere, though by the alien nature of this place, I imagine those words will mean little to you. In more common terms, perhaps, I am a priestess. You are familiar with the concept of a deity?"

Perhaps it was the man's savage appearance, or perhaps it was merely in Anvaera's nature for that trickle of condescension to touch her words. It was difficult to identify, implied by the question but not stated clearly in the tone. Perhaps it was curious that she did not follow up her inquiry as to the locale, merely accepting 'the wastelands' as an explanation. In fact, it was knowledge of the fact that further expansion would be equally meaningless.

She quite clearly was not within Orlesia any more, and her knowledge of the world beyond her homeland was, like most (if not all) of her people, non-existent.

"And who are you, stranger? Are you a native of this region?"

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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#, as written by Gasmask
The concept of a deity? The man knew of a fair dozen, all bloodthirsty and hungered for more than the few followers they had. What god or goddess did she worship? No, a question for when they met again in another time. "No. I am a wanderer." The wild hair bristled in the air. "I am Sayyid." The stranger gave back.

Sayyid grimaced as the wind picked up and wiped his mouth, then pointed to the distance. "Sandstorm soon, I think." Sayyid begun, his accent was harsh and poorly punctuated even with his mouth full of moisture. The condescension was lost on a man as wild as Sayyid, as if that was confirmation enough.

"Leave soon, sayeth Anvaera Ilsa. Survive together as partners?" Sayyid offered, raising a hand to block the sun out of his eyes. "We don't want to be here when the nyght comes." The stranger added, holding a charm around his neck. "Come. Two souls work better at one souls work."

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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Anvaera turned to look towards where Sayyid pointed, a frown forming upon her face. The concept of a sandstorm was not one she had encountered before, but the term was descriptive enough. It didn't take much to be able to connect it to the strengthening wind. "I will accept your assistance, Sayyid," she said, nodding her head. "And offer to you that which I can provide. This 'sandstorm' should not prove to be too great a hindrance."

The priestess gestured around at the desolate landscape, "How long have you been wandering this place?" she asked as she turned and began to walk, indicating that Sayyid should join her. "I must find some form of civilisation so that I may learn more of my whereabouts."

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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"Forgot. I think about three weeks. I found an old camp, found this." Sayyid pulled out a scrappy piece of paper with a few sketches of the nearby locale in thick black ink that had an arrow pointing though a series of jagged zigzags that represented mountains and a rickety bridge. The shaman ran his finger along the arrow and held it out infront of them in the piercing wind.

"That way. We have to climb those mountains." Sayyid stuffed the paper away into a pocket that had an ugly carved face hanging from the stitching, the eternally open mouth filled with a dozen sharpened wooden teeth echoed how cruel the mountains appeared in the distance."

The hand that put away the map hesitated on the carving and purposely knicked itself on the teeth. "Dor kaleyth visko ich domain. Sayef travel sayeth Anvaera Ilsa. Sayef travel Sayyid Oathbreaker." The shaman mumbled under his breath, eyes trailing the ground as he did so.

"The stranger will see we are not dashed upon the rocks now." Sayyid said, turning to look at Anvaera and put on a brave smile.

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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If the prospect of climbing the imposing looking mountains in the distance intimidated Anvaera at all, she did not show it. Her expression remained nigh on unreadable as she examined the paper and then the mountains that Sayyid indicated. Eventually, she nodded her head to affirm - or perhaps it could be interpreted as the arrogance to approve, as though it were required - the man's interpretation.

She shot him a wary glance at his murmurs, ever so slightly raising an eyebrow as he finished with a smile. "The stranger?" she queried as they walked, "Tell me of this stranger. You hold them in some reverence, I gather?"

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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Sayyid nodded and started to move down the path in the direction of the mountains, drying his bleeding hand across his armor. "The stranger is the creature who sails the realms on his boat made of blood. It is... Hard to explain in this language." Sayyid opened his mouth to continue, stopped and shut it. "I will tell you this, Sayeth Anvaera. The stranger is not his real name. The true name of theirs is a sin to tell the unknowing. I've already told you too much." The man stopped, biting his lip. "I would like too. It is been a long time since I have met another shaman but I cannot tell you any more."

"Makoteh davisko sayef firgaveness." Sayyid muttered, knocking his hand upon the teeth of his charm again to make doubly sure the stranger would not strike him down for his betrayal. The path ahead suddenly rose, the mountains were closer than they were originally and the sand around them begun to peak up with angry hisses.

Sayyid pulled up a cloth around his mouth, gesturing for her to do the same. "What of the Verità Siere? Do you worship them?" The shaman asked, tying his staff upon his back and pulling his boots tighter around his shins.

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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"You misunderstand," Anvaera corrected, "I am of the Verità Siere. In literal terms, it means 'Sister of Truth'. That is my title, my order. We work in the name of Maraé, the Light Mother."

Though it was difficult to detect, Anvaera was slightly unnerved by Sayyid's description of the stranger. Though she had never encountered the description of a boat made of blood in any writings regarding the shadow, that the name of the Son of Shadow was blasphemy to be spoken was common across both his worshippers and those who walked in the Light. She could not help but draw a parallel.

"In a manner of speaking, we worship her," she went on, dismissing such thoughts to the back of her mind for the time being, "But more so we work to further her interests and spread her message." Often these neatly coincided with the interests of the order itself, or indeed of the individual Sister, but all worked - in the grand scheme of things - to spread Maraé's light. Of course that was the case.

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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The road abruptly rose again and led into the mountain steps. The blackened steps, which were chunky and perilous for a single person to climb alone. "That is an admirable goal, Sayeth Anvaera." Sayyid replied, his lips forming a line as he stared up at the staircase built into the mountain.

"The stranger does not believe in the light as your god does. Only the dark that can purify the soul and fortify it against the true heartless darkness." Sayyid said, his voice struggling with the more 'advanced' words. "The stranger used to tell me of the wonders of the other gods, of how there was no need for sacrifice with them, but without sacrifice, the sun that provides the light will someday fade. I hope your light mother has prepared for the sundering nyht, she seems like a nice goddess."

The shaman gripped a handful of rock and heaved himself up, holding out a hand to help his new companion up onto the first step up these well-used but completely derelict staircase. The wind begun to spit sand at them and howl over the rocky outcroppings above them and if they were to fall when ascending, it would be totally fatal.

"We'll be at the bridge according to the map after these stairs. Do you have any rope?"

The setting changes from The Boiling Plains to The Blackened Steps

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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Anvaera was silent for a time after Sayyid explained his 'stranger' more thoroughly. She was analysing his words, running them over in her head. Whilst he had openly stated that he revered an entity that held to the dark, she got the impression that it was not the same shadow that opposed the mother's light. Still, she was uncomfortable with it. "The fates will fall as they will, but the Light will continue even in times of darkness, be it a flame or but a spark." was her only reply to his remark on the 'sundering nyht', vague as it was. Perhaps when she was less reliant on his superior knowledge of this place, she would address her concerns more directly. For now, she would use him as she needed.

The priestess took his hand and allowed him to help her up the step. "No," she replied when he asked about rope, "For what do we need it?" For all her apparent composure and wisdom, traversing dangerous terrain was something she had little experience in.

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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As they walked up the steps, Sayyid laughed. A laugh that was guttural and savage. The shaman turned around and pointed down the winding staircase, the wind whipping though his hair and then upwards. The ugly carving bouncing on his side seemed to be staring at Anvaera with it's ugly empty eyes, no matter how the wind shook it, it always fell in an angle that faced her.

The shaman begun to scale upwards, his lanky legs helped him scale the high steps and avoid the jagged spikes around the stairs themselves. "Secure it to something heavy and throw it up there, otherwise one slip and we're nothing but silvers in the nyht." Sayyid kicked a loose rock to clatter down into the jagged rocks to give emphasis on what he had just said. "That is what rope is good for, Sayeth Anvaera."

"The stranger nor the light mother will catch us if we fall from this height, or at least, my god won't. Blood spills for a reason."

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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"Then as we have no rope, we shall have to endeavour not to fall." Anvaera said with matter-of-fact confidence. For all the strength of the wind and the tossed sand, the priestess' robes and hair seemed to remain unmoving. It was as though the sandstorm slipped around her, guided away from interfering with her climb.

That said, the jagged spikes were less discerning, and the bottom of her robes began to fray and tear as they climbed. Though suitable enough for travelling, far from the ceremonial and restrictive robes worn within temples, those who had designed them had not had climbing sheer rock faces in mind. And who could blame them? Anvaera did not know of any landscape as inhospitable as this in all of Orlesia.

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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The shaman danced up the stairs, occasionally pausing to check on his companion and to readjust the cloth around his mouth. The shaman suddenly stopped, holding out a hand for Anvaera to pause and pulled a knife out of his belt. It was a wicked thing with serrated teeth and sharpened to a point that made the wind whistle though it and turned around, holding it out in an alarming manner.

"Stay still."

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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As instructed, Anvaera halted, her eyes briefly falling to the knife before returning to stare levelly at Sayyid. She did not appear alarmed, though to the trained eye, there was a tension to her gaze as though she was focusing on something unseen. "I hope that isn't for me." she remarked calmly, almost too calmly, all things considered.

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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"Hopefully not." Sayyid said, his eyes looked past her and then they flicked down. There was a small brown thing with many legs scuttling behind her, about to crawl upon her leg. The shaman lunged out with the knife and impaled the bug-like creature, the sound of hissing broke the silence and wind and the legs scuttled over the blade with a rattle of ticks as the stinger wildly stung on instinct.

Sayyid withdrew and held out the blade to show her the writhing corpse of the creature. "You look death in the face and you don't show fear. I think you truly are a spirit, sayeth Anvaera." Sayyid continued, looking her in the eyes as if looking for something in those gazing pools, and then with a satisfied grunt turned around and continued up the stairs, flicking the corpse of the bug off the blade and down the great fall beneath them.

"I can hear the bridge now. There's a river nearby and the desert stops. A couple more steps and we're safe."

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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Though she flinched visibly as Sayyid struck at the bug behind her, Anvaera's focus on the man had allowed her to notice his eyes dropping away from her before he lunged, and she had deduced the strike was not aimed for her. The priestess' eyes relaxed, as she released the threads of magic she had been forming, ready to cast Sayyid from his feet should he have been attempting to harm her.

"There is little which shakes a Verità Siere, Sayyid. We can protect ourselves, should it be required." she replied simply, moving after the man. Her ageless features remained nigh on unreadable. It was an odd talent of those named 'Sisters of Truth', to possess a face behind which so much could be concealed. Not all things were black and white, after all, no matter how much it might be emphasised.

"That is good," Anvaera went on to say at the news of their destination being near at hand. "I thank you for your guidance. Were it not for you, it may have taken me a long time to navigate my way clear of these wastes."

Or perhaps she would have wandered aimlessly till her death. But of course, she would never admit that. Sayyid had been helpful, not necessary. She was perfectly capable.

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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#, as written by Gasmask
Sayyid nodded in respect, sheathing the blade in his belt. "There is nothing to thank me for. You helped me first. The blood boundaries are broken and the stream trickles though the lives of all. My debt is paid and we might all live in the light for a little longer, Sayeth Anvaera." They passed the last step onto the rocky outcropping connecting the rickety bridge of broken planks and rope that served as the only crossing to get to the fresh looking forest down the mountain.

Sayyid turned back and smiled. "Elesh aniko salve, stranger." The shaman made a queer gesture with his left hand and crossed it with his right in the direction of the sandstorm and boiling plain behind them. "I'll cross the bridge first, then you come second." The shaman said, already taking patient steps across the bridge.

The steps were cautious and taken with the expertise of someone who'd done this sort of spelunking and adventuring before.

SNAP.

Sayyid disappeared. A hand grasping the shaking rope was the only thing that proved he had existed in the first place. The raging water beneath the bridge would take care of him without aid.

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Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Anvaera Ilusai
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Anvaera mutter an oath sharply under her breath when the board beneath Sayyid snapped and fell away. She did not, however, move to help. At least not visibly. Taking a step to bring the hanging man into view, the priestess drew on threads of air, weaving them together to form around him, visible only to her. Sayyid would feel a constriction as though an unseen tendril had wrapped around his midsection, lifting him upwards and depositing him gently back on the bridge.

"Do take care." the priestess called dryly. Anvaera lowered her arm back to her side, where she had lifted it for a visual aid in directing the weaves. Muraéne, or 'The Mother's Gift', was a complex power to wield. It was superior to other forms of magic ... or at least, in the opinion of its wielders it was.