Satiah
C'est quoi, ça? 
Le murmure soudain des gens derrière elle et le bruit d'achoppement, erratique brouillage de sandales sur le grès attrapèrent l'air de la servante. Satiah tourna son corps pour faire face à la source de l'agitation, attrapeant la vue du soldat agité. Elle a levé un sourcil, reconnaissant l'homme de sa voix et de son apparence,...Bak, es-tu ivre? 
Ses yeux s'élargissaient au moment où il s'assombrissait, le sang commençant à s'accumuler d'une grave blessure dans son dos. D'un poignard, d'après les apparences. Elle a froncé et s'agenouillé aux côtés de Qar, qui était arrivé quand la commotion s'était construite et donnait actuellement son jugement. Autant qu'elle aurait voulu ne pas l'être, sa mort était définitive. "Reste en paix," a-t-elle dit, le faisant rouler sur son dos et lui balançant les yeux.
Puis elle se tenait, et en ce moment, c'était comme si la perception du monde par Satiah's s'était affinée en un point d'aiguille. L'information provenant de ses sens a été rapidement acquise et délimitée en une évaluation binaire de l'utilité. La vue des masques blancs parmi la mer des civils, le flash de leurs lames au soleil, la présence des forces alliées. Les lignes d'attaque et de défense ont commencé à se délimiter dans son œil mental.
Nebet est dans le temple. Une réponse rapide et composée à la question inquiète de Qar, puis un pas de côté rapide pour éviter le premier agresseur, que Qar avait rapidement traité en utilisant sa magie. Les deux sont susceptibles d'être entourés par des défenseurs. Amen peut gérer lui-même et a probablement le plus de dos vers le haut, Nabet est dans le siège de son dieu puissance. Ils vont bien, à moins qu'ils n'aient envoyé une légion pour envahir le palais et les serviteurs du temple, mais je suis sûr qu'ils ne l'ont pas fait. Trop évident. Nous devrions d'abord nous occuper de nos problèmes. Ils pourraient blesser les innocents, sinon. » Les robes de Satiah changèrent alors qu'elle se séparait les pieds, abaissant son centre de gravité en préparation de la vague d'opposants. "Zamois, je prendrai ce côté," a-t-elle annoncé, en s'éloignant des deux et vers la foule. Oh, et essayez de prendre au moins un vivant!, elle a commandé, en gardant son souffle comme la seconde vague d'assaillants s'est brisée de la mer des gens.
L'assaillant s'est lancé vers l'avant avec un souffle destiné à ses éléments vitaux. Derrière la figure, quatre autres ont constitué cette partie de la vague, chacun préparant ses armes et assumant des positions complémentaires. Le moment a été suspendu dans son esprit. En un instant, des lignes froides de probabilité se sont réunies en vecteurs de mouvement, de compteurs, de positions, d'applications de force - elle savait ce qu'elle devait faire.
Satiah s'est jeté à gauche, permettant à la lame de passer à travers ses robes avec une larme audible, laissant un trou par lequel le corps ennemi a commencé à passer. Enveloppe la cible.Lançant son bras vers l'avant et en arrière, elle convertit ce trou en un lasso - ou un nœud. Désactivez d'abord, contre la seconde. Satiah a pivoté sur son pied avant et a guidé son adversaire restreint, toujours en lutte pour échapper au tissu tout encombrant, par le dos et dans le chemin de ses lames alliées. L'essence brute coulait à travers son corps et une autre griffe de paume frappa la première colonne vertébrale, brisa un organe ou deux, et l'envoya avec son partenaire voler dans un mur voisin, sa manche droite déchirée tombant gracieusement après eux et un frottis de sang le long du mur au point de l'impact
Deux morts. Un handicapé, ou mort. Trois s'approchant d'angles séparés - une frappe de picotement tripliquée.
Satiah sourit comme une bête sauvage. Elle a donné un coup de pied à la poignarde dans sa main. Un mauvais jour pour n'avoir pas apporté un arc le long, mais encore une fois, armé d'une telle chose qu'elle aurait fait court travail de ces assassins. Mais c'est la vie.
Elle s'est fléchée à l'envers alors qu'ils convergeaient vers sa position. Elle a incliné la lame, reflétant le dur soleil du désert directement dans les trous oculaires de l'assassin de première charge, l'étourdissant. Elle a lancé la dague dans le col de l'adversaire abasourdi. Utiliser le désarroi pour couper la distance.Découper la distance en un instant avec un tiret alimenté par essence. Elle a arraché son couteau du torse de l'assassin aveuglé, créant un arc d'éclaboussures le long du sol en pivotant vers le dos des deux restants. Le comte était trois morts, un peut-être inapte, et deux pieds plats essayant de faire face à leur ennemi. Malheureusement pour eux, la femme avec la robe déchirée n'était pas à voir debout au-dessus du cadavre de leur allié.
Exploiter le point borgne. 
D'en haut est venu le bruit de tissu flutter et hurlement de fer. Trop tard était celui à gauche pour réagir, comme le poignard sculpté à travers son masque de camarade, laissant la femme dans l'accroupissement noir sur le corps comme un lion. Saisissant l'occasion, l'assassin a commencé à s'évanouir avec des grèves frénétiques.
Satiah s'est roulée du corps, se détachant des poussées et des coups d'un angle dur. Ce n'était plus une ruée bien organisée ou une charge d'escarmouillage coordonnée, c'était un assaut pleinement engagé - assez rapide pour la coincer, mais suivant son propre rythme. Son pied s'est évanoui avec un grand arc de scything, qui a été facilement évité. Heureusement, l'arrière-plan a accordé à Satiah suffisamment de temps pour se mettre aux pieds, ses mains étaient serrées dans les poings. Elle a jeté de la poussière dans le masque de l'assassin. En poussant le bras de côté avec une force économique, elle entre dans sa garde. Et avec l'impact cathartique de sa matière scintillante du poing, l'assassin masqué est tombé.
Elle a appelé, profitant de l'occasion de cette pause dans l'action accordée pour jeter de côté ses robes déchirées. Plus de lames scintillantes, plus de masques dans la foule. Quel type de fou envoie un peloton pour tuer cinq personnes?
Name: Satiah
Alias: The General's Favored Servant; Saty
Sex: Female
Age: 21
Date of Birth: September 12
Appearance: As a tall young lady with a well-built form and an imposing silhouette, one could be forgiven for believing Satiah to be some kind of stoic brute at the service of her liege - an impression which usually fades immediately after she opens her mouth. Her hair and eyes aren't as notable as her form, being black and brown, respectively. She keeps her hair in an untidy bob that terminates just below chin-length. As far as fashion goes, she shows a preference for conservative layers of dark, simply-designed and loose-fitting robes. Underneath, she wears simple sheathe skirt and banded sandals.
Personality: There is a saying that servants and children should be seen, not heard. In a way, this applies to Satiah equivocally. With social graces that have long since atrophied from disuse, maintaining silence is not an unusual command for her to hear, and one she understands the rationale behind very well. However at the same time, she is her father's daughter, and can be quite vocal when the occasion presents itself - a scenario which, given her new station, has a good chance of becoming "most of the time". Clearly this is a combination of traits that spells disaster, but there is a reason she's been called "a misguided fool who stands a good chance at dying futilely in an effort to prove herself" by her mentor more than once.
Fortunately, there's also a saying that the gods take care of fools; not that this would cause Satiah any great relief, for such a possibility runs completely contrary to the convictions carved into her being. And more than gods, more than gold and more than glory, there is nothing that Satiah believes in more than her convictions, almost to a martyresque extent. In that sense, she could be considered a sort of magician in her own right - a devotee who creates mysteries through force of industry rather than divine petition. Although at the same time, there is something about her bearing and dogged adherence to beliefs that suggests a cornered rat.
But why wouldn't they? Her enemy is none other than the system of the world itself, and her beliefs have long since crossed into heresy. The gods who play their games with the fate of humanity, and the kings who wield their supposed birthrights like a sword, amassing power while their people burn. Such are the truths that Satiah holds in highest disdain, but they are also the realities by which the world she lives is run. If life is to be improved for all, then the scales of the past law must be cast aside. Indeed, while her dedication is her greatest virtue, it is also her greatest hubris. Regardless, only time will tell if things truly can change, or if she is simply deluding herself.
As far as her conduct goes, Satiah is overall someone that is earnest but provincial, with an aura of underlying intensity that pervades her deeds. Well-intentioned but not necessarily kind, and chronically incapable of half-assing anything, hers is a pure but misguided sense of justice. She respects honesty, audacity, and individuals of great dedication (even if what they are dedicated to opposes her own beliefs), and cannot stand the roundabout nature of politics or bush-beating. A fool to the very end.
Biography: Where there is a king, there will always be those who oppose his rule. Satiah's father Hakor, a prominent and charismatic military leader, was one of these people, as were her brothers Siamun, Ahmose, and Muthis. They paid for their treason with their lives, disgraced and executed after leading a revolt against Pharaoh Thutmose. A similar fate was to fall upon the young Satiah and her mother Ipu, but they were spared due to the efforts of one of her father's former subordinates, a rising star in the navy named Khay, and consigned to a life of slavery under him instead.
She would not understand why until she was far older, but it was still life and for that Satiah and her mother were grateful. However the ideals of her father had already stuck into her young mind, and the life of a slave only served to ingrain them deeper into her traumatized psyche and create a deeper awareness of what her family considered symptomatic of the world's evils. It was around this point that she determined that something had to be done, and that if nobody was willing to do it, she would have to. But of course, being a slave, the young girl had no means to achieve such a goal; so she decided to make herself indispensable in the service of her master as means of acquiring some vague notion of an opportunity that she assumed she'd gain.
Which she did.
At the twilight of her adolescence, Khay, hearing of his slave's deviant philosophies, had revealed himself to Satiah and her mother one of Hakor's proponents, but one too afraid (or perhaps wise enough not) to follow him into revolution. Allowing them to live safely was to be his way of paying the man back, but it was clear by Satiah's vocality on the issue of populism that such a thing was not to happen. So instead, he decided he would train Satiah, make her strong, and in doing so, perhaps enable her to incite change - though not as violently as her father had attempted. But when it became clear that she'd possessed no natural talent and was inherently incapable of dedicating herself to a god through the years of petition required, Khay decided to cut his losses and abandon the project; for without powerful magic at her beck and call, what hope did a slave have of rising in status?
Despite this conclusion, Satiah remained unfazed. Rather than resign herself to mere mortality, she was determined to demonstrate that although she was doomed to mortality, she was no lesser than any magician. She was not granted power, so the fact that she had been turned away from for not performing well was simply natural to her. Instead, through excruciating perseverance, she was determined to earn it.
And slowly but surely, the officer's eye turned back on the revolutionary's daughter, and after the umpteenth request, was only barely disposed enough to continue instructing her. But instead of wasting time behind closed doors in the wee hours of the night, Satiah would be forced to prove herself on the battlefield when Khay - now a general - brought her along with him on his campaign in western Asia.
Taking a laissez-faire approach to his protege, Khay had Satiah unofficially take responsibility for a small, disreputable section of his army by acting as a messenger issuing "his" commands. Success and failure were to be her teachers now, and by the end of the campaign, she knew them both well. That said, it did not take too long for people to catch on, as the chance in tactics was quite glaring, but at the end of the day, Satiah had succeeded in her goal: she managed to successfully acquire a reputation among those in power - if only out of novelty's sake, and oft to make jokes at her expense. And by that point, it had become an open secret that she was the strategist behind her regiment's upward trend.
When Pharaoh Thutmose died and the military was to issue a representative to the young princeling, the upper echelons of the military were confident that their general would choose someone suitable for the task. In hindsight, what did happen should have been immediately obvious, but nobody really expected the savvy general to put the daughter of a prominent revolutionary in such a precarious position. But he did. He chose Satiah, fulfilling the promise he'd made for her all those years ago.
And now making her ideals a reality falls upon herself, and herself alone.
Combat Information
Magician: No
Deity: N/A
Equipment:Bow and Quiver - The principle weapon of the Egyptian military, historically speaking. As far as appearances go, it's a rather nondescript armament, clear of decor and simply strung - the kind you could pick up at any garrison. The leather quiver worn across her back is likewise lacking in decoration. A very standard weapon through and through. That said, the way Satiah wields her bow can hardly be called standard style. Fortunately, archery is not her most potent means of conducting combat, just a secondary methodology that she bears a sufficient degree of proficiency with.

Ability:Combat Analysis - Heightened analytical and observational capacity refined by a hellish combination of training, experience, and singleminded dedication to the art and science of battle, at the cost of proper etiquette and decent general education. The product of countless hours sparring against mortal and mage alike, and leading missions across western Asia. Although translatable to small unit tactical functions, due to the biases of her personality clashing with the reality of large scale conflicts, it loses efficacy as the amount of people she needs to look after grows. At the same time, because of those biases, it bears special effectiveness against enemies of a magical bend.
Hand to Hand Combat - Satiah's true weapon of choice none other than her body. As refining the state of the body was oft the priority of her training, this struck her as the next logical step. After all, more potent than any mundane blade is a body reinforced by essence, and there is no little surprise in an archer who cuts the distance to level a powerful fist into a complacent opponent's core vitals. Besides, anything that conserves time is a blessing to someone who has a very tight schedule.
Servantry - As someone who'd lived as a slave for the vast majority of her life, Satiah is capable of undertaking all sorts of household chores and fieldwork. This also includes utilities of a military persuasion, such as chariot driving, camp setting, and so on.
Faux Pas - Denotes Satiah's... unique competence in politically important situations. A dangerous ability.

Techniques:
Parameters
Essence: 3 / 5
Attunement: - / 5
Magic: - / 5
Strength: 4 / 5
Speed: 4 / 5
Body: 5 / 5
Wisdom: 1 / 5