DIVINIA CATA

DOSSIER

Once among the stock of Battlemages under the sovereignty of the Longhouses, committed to the cause, no matter how dark her task was. Now, a scarred veteran of a fateful war and an empire long-gone, she searches for the beauty and color in a life beyond duty.

AGE Forty Seven (2E 592)
RACE Imperial
SEX Female
BORN Anvil, 7th of Last Seed, 2E 544
HEIGHT 5'11", 180.3 cm, 1.80 m

"would you still love my spectre?
when i am long gone from this world?""always."

SIGN The Lady
ORIENTATION Bisexual
OCCUPATION Veteran & Adventurer
ALIGNMENT Lawful Good
AFFILIATION Neutral

"but what if, in death, i became
a terrible thing?"then i would love a terrible thing."

HISTORY

An entry on my life, for what it’s worth.
2E 588.I don’t remember much, really, the earliest of my years were but a blur in the grand scheme of what would later define me. I know I had a family once. Cata, I still bear their name, and as far as I’m concerned, I’m the only one to do so. Not that I made the choice anyways, it was always attached to me, like a limb, and would simply not make sense to be absent from me. They were a wealthy family, so I’m told, growing up in Anvil I figured they made their success in the docks, working the ships and trade they carried across the seas of Tamriel. Perhaps that is why I’ve always been so drawn to the sea and her burden to carry mankind’s ships, and with it their wars and bounties. Mara’s embrace, I spent so much of my youth playing around the docks, I felt like I could stay there forever- now, all I have left to cherish of those times are murky recollections.But, my family, tragedy befell them. I think it was an unfortunate amalgamation of violence and the changing of tides, of sentiment and allegiances. They could not endure the storm, and it swept them away, leaving only me in its wake. Sometimes I lay and night and gaze at the stars, wondering what might have become had things been different, but they are so distant I cannot help but feel only frustration. I only moved on because I could scarcely remember them, I was only a lass of four. I do know though, that by the friendship of my father and another, the patriarch of the House Sigilis, Maximon, I was quickly taken up in adoption into their household. He was a good man, and treated me as an equal, despite the occasional sour glare I had gotten from others within his house. It worried me, scared me, but Lord Maximon was always so warm, so gentle. I miss him. He died when I was ten. His brother, Gallo, filled the void he left, although barely. He was a cruel bastard.The next six years were so isolating. Why did they treat me like an outsider? Why was I so repulsive to them? I did the best I could, whether it be academics, etiquette, social life, it didn’t matter what it was, I did everything so I could earn a lighter gaze. I only made friends with the servants, and looking back upon it now, it was not such a terrible thing. I sought love in a place that had none.Once, when I was fifteen, their cruelty had pushed me to such an edge I felt a surge shocking through me, power webbing down my spine, then through every extremity of my body. I blacked out before it could make sense to me, but they woke me up to the sight of charred ground and furnishings. What was it they did? Gallo’s young children hunted my dog like some wild animal, and he didn’t do a damned thing about it, only laughed in my face. It was a terrier from Summerset. Lord Maximon had given it to me when I was nine, so I might never feel alone in such a place as this. They took everything from me, and I did nothing but bow my head, but when I could not contain it any longer, they treated me as if I was some wild beast to be caged, and caged me they did.For the next few months, the basement became my living quarters, and only a sliver of sunlight creeping through my reminder of the world beyond. They thought I was too dangerous to let out, that I was a madwoman prone to violent outbursts and sudden destruction. What did I do? They would not tell me. They wouldn’t even speak to me. When it came time to feed me, they opened the door just enough to let a plate of food through, and that was it. I’ve only ever felt sadness at their mistreatment, but during my brief imprisonment, it grew into bitterness, then anger.
A few months passed, and when I was finally thrown out of that prison, I fell into the arms of the Legion, the forces of Emperor Moricar. The Longhouse Emperors, such an odd time in Cyrodiilic history, I doubt there are many things as odd and out of place as it was. They did not send me away for my betterment, to understand and hone whatever power it was that was released within me months ago, but rather to rid themselves of me. I watched their pleased faces as I rode away on that carriage. Bastards, I swore they would never take credit for my pain, so I embraced the Legion instead.It gave me a sense of belonging, and I could quickly drown my sorrows over my prior treatment with the camaraderie of my fellow Legionaries. We ate, worked, and traveled together, and I was not just some mutt to stain a “good” household, I was a sister amongst brothers and sisters. Eventually, I came under the tutelage of the battlemages, who understood what was it that exploded from me. I had an affinity for lightning, an explanation so simple it drained all mystery and fear I ever had of it. Only, in my novice ability, it only came out in moments of stress and anger, so I learned first to contain my instability and channel it through magicka. I mean not be a braggart, but I became pretty good at it. Though, I soon learned, that in my skill, came a great cost.Some years after the ascension of Emperor Leovic, my ability was recognized and I was elevated to the position of Imperial Battlemage, assigned to a small legion that seemed more a ragtag band of fellow battlemages and more steel-bound brethren, of which I could assign some admiration to, I always chose a battle-axe to channel my power as opposed to a stave. We were meant for more mobility, to carry out tasks with higher efficiency that what a larger force might risk failure of. We were good, effective, but sometimes, we were too good. The things they asked of me, of my legion-men, I did not think of it too much then, but I realize we were often asked to do the atrocious and abominable. To this day, nearly two decades past my retirement, I cannot halt the floodgates of my memories from bursting, and flooding my dreams into nightmares of what happened then. Was I a terrible person? Or was I just following orders? Do good soldiers not follow orders? Is that what constitutes a good soldier?Needless sacrifice, torment of the mind and body without justification, destroying everything in our path until the ends justify the means, and more things I have perhaps forgotten in my shock and disgust. But I was still bound by my desire for purpose and brotherhood, I did what I was told and I did it to the best of my ability, because I wanted someone to know I was worthy of admiration. And admiration I found in a single man, and eventually that admiration became love. His name was Decidus, an agent within my legion. He moved so swiftly a sword and shield, I’d never seen it before, his skill was admirable, you could watch him clear rooms of bandits and never have a single moment of boredom. We had each other’s backs, pulling one another out of life threatening predicaments, and that tended to bond souls together rather quickly. I still remember the first night we shared each other’s embrace, I’d never felt such a warmth in my life, it transcended every preconceived notion I had. There were warnings against such fraternizing, but I didn’t care, I was a woman young and in love. Years passed, and we married in secret under a great, old tree, and I felt as if I had reached the peak of the world, touching Aetherius as we held our kiss in our ceremonial wear. We entertained the idea of retirement, and beyond that, children and a homestead. I felt as if my life was finally repairing itself, that fate was perhaps rewarding me for my long endurance. Mara truly smiled upon me.He died defending the Imperial City against Varen Aquilarios’ men, as did what remained of my old legion. I think I died that day, not in the literal sense as they thought I did, tossing my body into a exposed chasm that led to the depths of the sewers with the rest of the casualties, or I would not be writing this perhaps regrettable entry today. My heart, which I entrusted to my Decidus, died as the sword plunged itself through his own, and all the light that shone on me flickered away like a great, dark cloud washing over the sun. I should’ve died with the rest of my brethren, but I didn’t, and I don’t know why the gods were cruel enough not to let me depart from this dark world.I woke up in an old farmstead some leagues away from the Imperial City, past the Great Forest and in what I can recall to be Colovia. I was dressed in fresh clothes, not bloodied and dented like my armor, which I still carry with me to this day, and I was warm and met with food and drink upon my consciousness being regained. I do not remember how much time had passed since, but it seemed the heat of battle that burned the Imperial City did not spread here, and life had simmered down relatively. Perhaps it had been days or weeks, I’ll never know. All I’ll know are the ones who nursed me back to health. I was ready to kill one of them.It was a Colovian, a soldier part of the army summoned by Varen to fight Leovic, who had by then proclaimed himself Emperor. I did not mourn the loss of Leovic and his dynasty, but I could not look upon Emperor Varen and think him anymore worthy of the Ruby Throne. His war was the reason I was disgusted I lost my brethren, my beloved, his armies sapped their life away. Yet here this man was, part of the same force that took everything from me, praying to his god in my moments of silence that I make a speedy recovery.He recognized that stare of hate I fed him whenever he was around, but it did not provide him any bitterness, he simply continued to aid me. There was no local healer, so he simply labored away. What did he want with me? He wanted my hand in marriage, be it forced or otherwise? Or some servant for hard labor? I promised he would not have anything from me. Eventually I confronted him, and in my rage, he countered it with serenity, and revealed his desires from me- nothing. He had an honest tone, I believed him instantly, and I could not speak for days of the topic. I thought all these men brutes, cowards for what they did, and here one was, discarding my former allegiance for the sake of pursuing my wellbeing. It was the second time in my life I learned to overcome anger since mastering my power, and it was the most profound of all.We became fast friends, even when I made a full recovery months after the end of the rebellion and could venture out on my own, I remained for some time to help him and his parents with their farm. Though, a year passed, and I could not resist the call of home, Anvil, any longer. It had been years, and now that I could take my mind off duty and war, I longed to hear again the waves lapping against the sand and the docks, the workers marching about, and the groaning of ships and their parts. I wanted to go home, become one again with the little girl that played at the docks, and find some peace in a place that burdened me so. So, with a heavy heart, I departed from the farmstead and traveled west, trekking days until I was at the gates of Anvil. When I finally arrived, I found much change, and it was there that I was finally conscious of all the evil I’d done.The people of Anvil had never been privy to the Leovic and his predecessors, and even under the new management an independent Gold Coast, the sentiment did not change or dissipate. The House Sigilis, for their allegiance to the Longhouse dynasty, had been dashed from Anvil, figuratively and literally, and their home burned to the ground, taking with it any documents that might’ve pertained to my family, the one I was born into. Even then, I could still not weep for losing that which I could barely remember, I simply thought it a shame.In my engagement with the locals, speaking to them and learning from them, it gave me the power to look into myself, to see if I truly served a monster. Now, on top of the grief I held for losing my beloved, I had to face the grief of my evils. I still do to this day, and perhaps, I might never truly come to grasp with what I’ve done. I could never tell them what I did, never be honest, never relieve the burden of my stress through confession, for I would do so, it would surely mean death. I don’t want to be a bad person, not anymore, I barely fight unless I have to. I even contemplate joining a priesthood of Mara daily, so that I might hopefully one day overcome my treachery with blessings and goodwill.I don’t know if it’ll ever be enough.

HOOKS

VETERAN A veteran of service and war, Divinia is one for stories and recollections of the olden days. With it, however, comes the weight of said service. There can be no telling what would come of such weight, or the price to pay for it if one must be paid. Perhaps another would seek retribution for what she's done, or perhaps find comfort and solace in one that knows the brutality of war, and what it brings upon all it touches.AMATEUR ADVENTURER It was only recently that she decided to leave the walls and docks of Anvil to find purpose and adventure in Tamriel, whether it be through following trading caravans, archaeologists braving dangerous ruins, pirates journeying through the seas and storming what they might, it matters not to her. She seeks life, and she will find it in whatever corner and niche of Tamriel she might find herself in.CURIOUS With a sense of adventure comes a yearning for knowledge. Divinia wants to enrichen herself with the wisdom of the world, to hear the experiences of others and experience it herself if she could. It doesn't matter if it's sharing a table at a tavern, listening for hours on end to an academic ramble on about his field of study, or engulfing herself in some ritual deep in the reaches of the continent. Curiosity is a thirst rarely ever sated.CYRODIIL & IMPERIALS Divinia, for all her history with the Imperials and their heartland homeland, can sometimes never stray too far from it. She holds a special love for Cyrodiil and its inhabitants, and on her journeys, might sometimes get caught in the tangle of their lives. When she is not trying to venture to a far-off corner of Tamriel, she will either be in Anvil or another stretch of Cyrodiil not ravaged by war.

ALTS

An Archive of Faces

OOC

Hi! If you're interested in roleplaying, feel free to reach me through Discord (.goov) or ESO (@Vargoy).I typically answer fastest on Discord, and I also roleplay on it as well, so I'm more than glad to brainstorm a few ideas and get a story going on either platform!

PREFERENCES

- While I am open to mature themes (gore, combat, etc.), I normally avoid doing ERP and romances.
- I do both Discord and in-game scenes!
- This is more a requirement/rule than just a preference. Please no bigotry (in any form) out-of-character, I will refuse to roleplay any further if such is the case.
- IC =/= OOC