The Profound Marked(+), an Elder Scrolls story
3 Qazar, Demi-god
Qazar, son of Dibella and Zenithar, Demi-god of the beautiful art of fencing.
Stands regally, at a stature of 6’0. The most beautiful man ever seen.
< found glued into the School of Julianos’ copy of “The best duelists of all Yoku” >
“Dueling is art. Your sword the brush. The blood of your foes the paint.”
is was a very beautiful man. The balance and heft of his family’s jeweled scimitar, sharpened to a point as was his close-shaven and perfect beard. Truly, this man was the stuff of legends.
But it was not always so.
Qazar of Sentinel was born in Heartfire, 4E 229, to Dibella and Zenithar. His parents frequented the temple, to spread their own holy word. Gods tend to enjoy pleasures like various chemicals and moonsugar products, and in enjoying their worldly creations, they ended up leaving the small child to fend for himself, and he did. At first being regretfully not accepted to the Schools, by teachers and peers alike, the environment eventually adjusted to him, and he used a stick four times the size of him in an incredible feat of strength and beat all those who would not recognize his proper place as leader-of-men.
The lesser-born men came, surrounding him. One report from a felled enemy was that there were three dozen, clad in ebony plate! Qazar, as a boy of mere 10, fought them off with his branch, of a Remosa plant. Remembering the teachings of an old, poor Alik’r from his youth, he pressed on, his branch a brush.
After many of them were reeling, their leader offered a better weapon, and transport to the dueling tourneys of the Sentinel palace. He had triumphed yet again. After thanking Dibella for his perfectly chiseled jaw and Zenithar for the money and luck which led him this far, he set out to become the absolute best duelist of all western Hammerfell.
After many dirty cheats repeatedly climbed above him in the arenas of Sentinel, he decided to try his luck with the much weaker and frail Crowns faction. At 12 he came upon Skaven, and staying in a luxurious bar kept by one called A’tada, he traveled the town, looking for any man worthy of challenge.
Coming upon a small Bosmer, one not worthy enough to name, the dirty cheat, Qazar was again bested, by foul moves most likely taught by the High Elves!
< scribbled here are the words “Names Daia Vanos, kid. Keep your legs wide next time, maybe you’ll withstand a hit” >
He did not give up, as no true demi-god could ever, and as he stood from where she knocked him, he ran into a mer with the most beautiful armor ever seen.
Demanding a duel of honor for this armor, in the name of his parents, Qazar extended his battered blade towards him. The Dunmer simply smiled, a knowing smile, and was gentle with the boy, taking him to The Halls of Virtue of War, and teaching him the ways of Sword-Singing… much too slow for Qazar’s liking, but old Ulms Drathen is the wisest man in the world. No damn scholars or priests can convince
me him of otherwise.