Basic Statistics[]
Name: Sadathys Trismegistus
Race: Forsaken
Class: Warlock
Professions: Tailoring and Enchanting
Affiliations: Big Booty
Age: 32 years old at time of death
Eyes: None
Hair: Teal
Appearance[]
Tall, gaunt, and pale, Sadathys is no posterchild for youthful beauty. His eyes churn with the frigid emptiness of a corpse, yet possess a very vigilant quality despite their apparent lack of eyeballs. Though his skin has become thin and poreless, reflecting light and giving him a soft glow, he still maintains an aire of strength and vigor carried over from life. He dresses opulently and wears several earrings in each ear, and rings on his fingers. Around his neck is a silver charm shaped into the likeness of a cross upon which a grinning skull wearing a tophat sits in its intersection.
Personality[]
In the beginning, Sadathys was a very dark, sadistic person, and those aspects of his personality still remain, although they are channeled far differently. He is very conflicted, and it shows in his dual nature. He grapples with the powers of darkness he seems to controls, and the powers of light to which he desires so strongly to become a part. He often tries to help the people he loves, and he becomes extremely protective of them over the slightest hint of rudeness by an outside party. He does have a temper, and it usually ends in a curse thrown at the offending party, but lately he's been trying his best to change, despite how impossible it seems to liberate one's self from the Twisted Nether once one has gotten as deep as he. His wrath is as powerful as his love, and vice versa. Rude, outspoken people bother him to no end, and he has very little patience with children.
History[]
It all began in Goldshire. Sadathys lived with his mother in a medium sized cottage. His name was Dorhian then. Dorhian Eidlestein. His mom was a modest woman named Rebecca. When her husband died she received a large sum of money from the church, but instead of splurging, she saved it for times of great need, and elected to live in the quaint, but not TOO quaint cottage in Goldshire.
Dorhian was a very good son. He never got into trouble. He did very well at school in Stormwind. He was an angel, if there is such a thing. His mother had aspirations of his becoming a priest just as she and his father were. He looked forward to these things as well. But despite how good he was, there were teachers who always thought him too precocious. Bookeepers that found him oddly suspicious... Too curious. Rebecca didn't heed the warnings. Her son was not an unsavory person. But one night, she found a book he had been reading. A book on magic by a publishing house based in Dalaran.
Dorhian didn't listen to his mother when she warned him about magic. He wasn't going to DO any magic. He was just reading about it. There's no harm in that. Until Lukas came. Lukas met Dorhian in Stormwind while he sat at a café, reading one of those books on magic. Lukas introduced himself, and they hit it off right away. The guy had friends, all of whom got along with Dorhian. All of whom were mages or dabblers. They didn't study magic for the sake of gaining knowledge however. They studied what they needed in order to get the feeling of pleasure one derives from performing a spell. They were magic junkies. Dorhian followed them down into their spiral towards depravity, engaging in competitions of power with others in his circle, seeing who could make the strongest ripple in the fabric of reality. He and Lukas had even been able to summon a creature once, a sign of the talents they both shared. Dorhian, however, was becoming cocky.
One night, the magics he was trying to influence proved themselves too strong for him. They short-circuited his brain, caused him to go mad, to become possessed with the power. Were his mother not to discover him convulsing on the floor, he would have died.
She gave him to the Cathedral in Stormwind. They would take care of his obvious addiction. He would be put through a rigorous detoxification program that included erasure of key memories. The priests were only supposed to use their powers to erase any memory of magic from Dorhian's head. But one priest was less deserving of the title than even a warlock would be. This priest was a coward and hatred filled his heart with bias. He chose to erase ALL of Dorhian's memories. He snatched them out right under his superiors' noses, and he never got caught.
After this, Dorhian was put into the asylum. His mother went to visit him, but he couldn't remember her. He was more like an animal than anything, only able to react. He'd lost the ability to Be. He was dead inside. His mind was what they called "Tabula Rasa." A few years into his stay at the asylum, Dorhian was visited by a long lost lover. Lukas had gained more power, and he was capable of saving Dorhian from his gritty fate. He transported the two back to a large mansion. Lukas had come to own a very nice mansion. His cabal of magicians lived there, practicing magic and hosting wild orgiastic parties at all hours of the night. Dorhian, with the help of these talented magicians, was able to regain his memory. They reintroduced him to magic, and he joined in on their decadence.
This went on for some time, unil Dorhian began to get bored being Lukas's prince and lover. He was getting tired of magic and no longer wanted anything to do with the amorality of the people whose company he'd kept for so long. The night came when he took what he could and snuck out of the mansion. What he thought would be his last spell was one of cloaking, so that his so-called "friends" could not find him. He enchanted a pendant with the magic, and wore it always, so that Lukas or the others would never be able to find him.
He moved to Brill, and after having a house built, he found himself living a productive, magic-free life on his own. But destiny got in the way of his plans, and he ended up getting interested in the study of demonology. The power had returned, as had his addiction. He couldn't control the power as easily. It was too different. But over time, he managed to work black magic, and it caused him to become cocky, sadistic, and cruel. His final commupance to put an end to his hubris came when, one day, he began to miss his mother. He would attempt to summon her alone, although two people were the ideal number of participants in the ritual. Everything seemed to turn out well, until the smoke cleared and what he saw was a mutilated lump of flesh and hair that had once been his mother. In his selfish attempt to make a quick fix and bring his mother to him instead of going to her so many miles south, he'd killed her. This drove him mad, most definetely.
When the plague came, Dorhian was caught in one of the strongest currents of its attack. He did not rise, however, until years later. His body had been relatively well-preserved despite the years. He still had flesh on his bones. Although the body his soul inhabited was torn and old and decayed, he felt power rush through him in torrents of strength. It was then that he realized that with this new form, he could exercise much more control over his magic. He was ready to gain more power, and something about his undead body made him more capable of handling it. It was no longer an addiction, or was it?
With his new life, Dorhian forsook his first name and began referring to himself as Sadathys, his middle name.
Stories[]
WIP