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"That was a calculated move, but damn, I am bad at math." Caius Callidus
—HistoricalInformation
Caius Aerin Callidus - PHYSICAL INFORMATION AND APPEARANCE - Born and raised in the Cyrodilic city of Chorrol, Caius Aerin Callidus shares many traits with his fellow Colovians. He is of average Imperial height, measuring in at an even six feet. Due to his upbringing, his years of training with armor and melee combat, Caius sports a lean, muscular build, weighing in around 172 lbs. He has short, chestnut hair, with a rather noticeable scar on his upper right temple. His chin is soft, and is covered by a thin beard and mustache.
Only twenty-six years of age, Caius Callidus still retains his youthful brashness. His stubborn demeanor usually places him in difficult situations. His scholarly side, due to Synod training, has greatly improved his strategic thinking, ability to read runes and symbols, and has granted him a particular fondness for ancient sites. Always the hero, Caius carries the innate desire to help others, particularly due to growing up in a post-Great War environment, where people only survived by helping each other. In Caius’ eyes, the best feeling one can get is to see the smile of someone who has been shown kindness.
- BACKGROUND INFORMATION -
The date is the 28th of Sun’s Height, 4E 179. Zedrick Callidus, a Swordsman for the Chorrol chapter of the Fighter’s Guild, beamed with joy as his wife, Raen Varus Callidus, a First Adjunct for the Chorrol chapter of the Synod, held their baby boy, a boy they had decided to name Caius Aerin Callidus. Caius, for Zedrick’s personal instructor in his early days in the Fighter’s Guild, a man by the name of Caius Sintav. Aerin, for Raen’s father, Aerin Varus, an accomplished mage in his own right. The boy had his mother’s soft chin and chestnut hair, and his father’s eyes and nose. In this dark age in Cyrodiil’s history, it was the couple’s only dream to provide a safe, and comfortable childhood for their only son.
The date is the 16th of First Seed, 4E 189. Caius was now a healthy eight-year-old child, living a comfortable life in his family’s home in Chorrol. He had recently begun weapon training at the local Fighter’s guild, his main lessons coming from his father, though when he was out on a contract, some of the other guild associates stepped in, more or less as a favor for Caius’ higher-ranking parent. He learned quickly, preferring the straight edge of a blade over the blunt force of the mace, or the brutal nature of the axe. On top of his combat studies, his mother had begun teaching him basic spellcasting, which Caius naturally took to. He could perform basic spells, such as light healing and opening the most basic of locks, but he especially excelled in Destruction Magic. Even at his young age, he was breathing flames to life on his fingertips with ease, summon lightning with a mere flick of his wrist, and freezing objects solid with no effort. However, the young boy severely suffered in the school of Conjuration. Bringing things back to life, or summoning the lowest of Daedric minions was a taxing effort, and was damn near impossible for the Imperial. However, even with this obvious lack of talent in the Conjuring fields, the boy’s parents, and those in the community, knew that young Caius Callidus was destined to be a successful battlemage.
The date is the 7th of Frostfall, 4E 195. Caius was now sixteen years old. He was in fantastic shape for a young man, due to the years of training with the fighter’s guild. His sword-arm was strong, his feet were fast, and his reflexes were sharp. Now, he was taking on the guild associate’s, toe-to-toe, and sometimes winning. He was casting Destruction spells with ease, being able to switch from element to element within seconds. He had learned new healing spells, and had begun to work with warding spells, capable of holding them up for a solid two minutes before losing his concentration. His community was absolutely astounded at the young Imperials progress in the Arts, though most were aware of the true motives of Caius’ self-improvement. His father, Zedrick Callidus, had been killed on a suicide contract. The Fighter’s Guild had received a contract by the College of Whispers, the Synod’s primary rivals in the Imperial Province. Zedrick had been tasked with the retrieval of some Alyeid artifact in one of the several ruins that dot the land. The contract payment was hefty, so the guild sent Callidus to fulfill the assignment. He never returned, though everyone knew that the Swordsman had died within the ruin. Damn the College of Whispers, in Caius’ eyes. He would join the Synod, as a battlemage, and drive that disgusting organization out of business in Tamriel.
The date is the 17th of Last Seed, 4E 198. Caius Aerin Callidus was now nineteen years of age, and a lowly initiate of the Synod. Despite his mother being a First Adjunct, the Order was not one to show favoritism out of bloodlines. So, for the past year, the young man had been transferred to the Synod Hall in Kvatch, and had been performing mundane task after mundane task, getting tea for the scholars, performing librarian duties, providing escort guard for the mages going from city to city. This trip, however, was going to be a bit different. This mage he was escorting was a feeble, yet haughty, old man by the name of Attrebus Quintin, and the destination was the Imperial City. Caius had been to the grand city before, with his mother on Synod business, and knew the path as well as anyone. The old man would not shut up about the differences between alchemical traits of this plant and that plant, the poisonous capability of this mushroom and that mushroom. It was dull, eternal lectures for the young battlemage, but suddenly, the old scholar fell silent. Ahead of them, shaking in the gentle breeze, and staring at them through beautiful, green eyes, was a Spriggan. The child of Kynareth just stared at them, waiting for them to move, almost like a mother animal preparing to protect her cubs, and her territory. Caius slowly moved his right hand to his sword hilt, his left gently creating a ball of flame. Suddenly, the spriggan screeched out, calling on the forces of nature’s warriors. Two wolves, summoned by the call, began to move towards the spellsword, snarling and growling. Unsheathing his blade, Caius unleashes the full life of the flames, and launches it at the Spriggan, burning a mild hole into the wooden body. Breathing a new flame, the wolves rushed in to attack. Catching one of the wolves with the fireball, he was taken off guard by the Spriggan attacking him with its magic. He took his attention off of the second wolf for a second, but a second is all it took.
The wolf clawed at him while he was distracted, connecting on his upper temple. The pain was searing, but Caius was not going to let a damn dog and a magic tree take him out. As the wolf ran back around to make a second go, Caius planted his feet, and waited. The wolf leaped, and as it did, the Imperial took a step to the left, and connected to the canine with the blade of his sword, ending its life as it clotheslined itself onto cold steel. Turning his attention to the Spriggan, he rushed the creature, dodging left and right as spells were shot its way. Once in range, he lunged forward, stabbing his sword into the already-burnt hole in the Spriggan’s chest, relying on the weakened wood to allow his steel to dig in. Reaching out with his left hand, the young Imperial grasped the Spriggan by the neck, and breathes scorching fire into his palm and onto his fingertips. Rapidly burning the wood, the pushes up, separating the head of the Spriggan from its body, killing it. It was over, he had won. The old man, as boring as he was, was able to heal the claw wound with little effort, though the scar of the attack would last.
The date was the 9th of Hearthfire, 4E 200. Rumors of unrest in Skyrim was spreading through Cyrodiil, and most likely through the other provinces. However, such affairs didn’t matter to Caius Callidus, who was now twenty-one years of age. He had passed his Entrance Exam for the Synod, and was now officially an Attendant of the Order. He also had recently became the official apprentice of Lucien Gestor, a notable, and powerful, First Adjunct of the Synod. With his acceptance into the Synod, Caius was given the official uniform, a simple set of dark blue Apprentice Robes, enchanted with an enhancement trait of the Attendant’s choice. The obvious choice, for Caius, was a Destruction Enhancement trait, which made Destruction spells seems like they were even less difficult than previously. He wore a set of tanned leather under-armor, steel gauntlets and boots, the Apprentice Robes, and a hood to match, with a mouth mask. He, officially, was a Synod Battlemage. He and his master planned on visiting many ruins across Tamriel, from Ayleid to Dwemer, from Chimer to Falmer. This was the life Caius had been wishing for his entire life, and he knew his parent’s would be proud, if they were still alive. His mother had passed away due to natural causes shortly after his acceptance into the Synod, and now the Chorrol home, a large structure, even by Colovian standards, was in his name. Perhaps, one day, he would retire back to him home, and have a family. But, for now, Caius Aerin Callidus, Synod Attendant, could only think of adventure.
—GeneralInformation
[₪] Full Name: Caius Aerin Callidus [₪] Alias(s): "Aerin" [₪] Birthdate: 28th of Sun's Height, 4E 176. Born under "The Apprentice" and its parent constellation, "The Mage" [₪] Age: 26 [₪] Sex: Male [₪] Classification: Spellsword [₪] Affiliation: Self-Interests
[₪] Character Rank: E-Rank [₪] Race: Imperial [₪] Primary Archetype: Swordsmanship [₪] Secondary Archetype: School of Destruction [₪] Tertiary Archetype: School of Restoration [₪] Quaternary Archetype: [₪] Signature Technique: Overload
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—Inventory
Top Grain Hide underarmor, Steel Plated gauntlets and boots, Ebonthread Mage's Robes, hood, and mask. Nordic-style Leaf Blade, enchanted with an Absorb Health enchanment.
—Spell List
Flames, Fireball, Healing, Fast Healing, Lightning, Lightning bolt, Frost, Ice Spike, Steadfast Ward, Magelight, Open Minor Lock