Dragon Age: Origins - The Archive

by **The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness** » Mon Aug 04, 2014 5:59 am

Yes, but she seems more... "Ooh, pretty colors!" than "Muahaha! I am Princess Stabbity! Stab, kill, kill!

The thread to put your accepted app, along with items and such you might receive, and potential oneshots you may write. Please use the format below. Stick to one post, please.

Code: Select all: [align=center][size=200][b]YOUR CHARACTER NAME HERE[/b][/size] <Your app here> [hr][/hr] [size=150]Items[/size] List your possessions here. [hr][/hr] [size=150]Oneshots[/size] <Put any oneshot (short story involving your character) here, in a spoiler tag> [/align]

by **The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness** » Mon Aug 04, 2014 6:00 am

Reserved.

by **The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness** » Mon Aug 04, 2014 6:00 am

Reserved.

by **The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness** » Mon Aug 04, 2014 6:00 am

Reserved.

by **The Blazing Aura** » Mon Aug 04, 2014 7:29 am

Kelran Galro

Rogue Application
Name: Kelran Galro
Race: Dwarf
Age: 29
Gender: Female
Appearance:

Personality: Proud of her work, she can get quite cocky believing that what she's created is the best (even when it isn't). Can treat other races as inferior although she sometimes doesn't realize that she's doing so. Having been above ground for awhile she's lost her Stone Sense although she does have a morbid fear of heights. When scared and/or cocky she can be a bit of a motormouth.
Personal belongings: Two Veridium axes, a full set of Veridium Dwarven armour, A small amount of lyrium dust. A couple of health poultices. some smithing tools for emergency repairs.
Bio: Born into the Smithing Caste in Orzammar, Kelran started off learning the smithing trade, learning how to create weapons and armour until it was her second nature. Not completely happy with her slot in life, and wanting to learn how to use the weapons she created Kelran started to do so in secret. Her secret training, however became her undoing as one day whilst she was alone she was approached by a carta and 'coerced' into helping them. Despite not necessarily doing what she was out of choice Kelran overall enjoyed helping out the carta, seeing it as a way to break the boundaries of the caste system.

Unfortunately good times come to an end, and Kelran was backstabbed by the carta, almost literally and left at the scene of a murder of a member of the Merchant Caste who had been stubbornly going against the carta until the end. Given the choice of being exiled to the surface or joining the Legion of the Dead Kelran fled to the surface. She started getting by by employing the tricks taught to her whilst she'd aided the carta, although she ended up in the West Hills arling and became a smith in one of the larger settlements there. Despite having an honest job she kept her other skills up and often went hunting to make sure she could still use her weapons. Hearing of rumours of the Blight Kelran packed up and headed for Lothering, as her dwarven pride made her want to fight the Darkspawn in whatever way she could.

Items

Two Veridium axes, a full set of Veridium Dwarven armour, A small amount of lyrium dust. A couple of health poultices. some smithing tools for emergency repairs.

Oneshots

by **The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness** » Mon Aug 04, 2014 7:32 am

Dunstan Ausley

Warrior Application
Name: (Templar) Dunstan Ausley
Race: Human
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Personality: Stubborn and devout, Dunstan Ausley would be the perfect example of a templar were it not for him being slightly arrogant. He is a well-mannered man, and respectful but cautious when dealing with mages.
Personal belongings:
- Templar Armor, Templar Helmet, Templar Gauntlets, Templar Boots...
- Shield with the heraldry of the Templars on it
- Oathkeeper sword
- Three pouches of lyrium.
Bio: Dunstan Ausley was found 34 years ago as a baby, left behind in a basket in front of Denerim's Chantry, along with a note telling his name - though nothing about his parents was left with him. Thus he was raised by the Chantry, becoming a devout young man. When he grew a bit older, he became taller and well-built, and was quickly taken away to become one of the Templars. Taken to a secluded location in the Frostback Mountains, he was initiated in the ways of the Templar, trained, and made a lyrium addict, building up a magic resistance. After years spent training, he was finally inducted into the Order and became a full Templar, aged 26.

He was first assigned to the Chapter watching over the Circle, but was later quickly assigned to the Chapter protecting the Chantry House in Denerim. He travelled with the King himself to Ostagar to battle the Darkspawn, believing it to not be a 'real' Blight and that it would be an easy victory. At the third battle, however, they were all proven wrong as the Darkspawn hordes fell upon them, and were betrayed by Logain Mac Tyr. Dunstan fled, along with several soldiers, to Lothering. He feels that, by fleeing, he has acted cowardly and has forsaken his honor. Now, he only has one goal: to redeem himself in the eyes of the Maker, and to bring the Fifth Blight to an end - with or without Grey Wardens. He is currently biding his time in Lothering, attempting to bring a group together with similar hopes of ending the Blight.

Items

Full Templar Armor, Oathkeeper sword, Templar steel kiteshield, three pouches of lyrium.

Oneshots

by **Sulania** » Mon Aug 04, 2014 7:52 am

YOUR CHARACTER NAME HERE

Warrior Application

Name: Templar Ellisia MacLeode

Race: Human

Age: 32

Gender: Female

Appearance:

Personality: An Andrastian and a Templar, Ellisia is loyal to her Order and will fight for the greater good of all Andrastians, even if they're a mage. While she appears to have the same old anti-mage semblence many Templars have, Elissia secretly feels sympathy for them and wishes she could do something to help them. She is generous, offering help to her fellow Templars and the Senior Enchanters when she can. She trusts virtually no one, not even the Knight-Commander, and even holds First Enchanter Irving in higher regard than Greagoir, but will never admit it. She is also very intellectual on most matters of the Circle and magic, as she sometimes finds herself reading the books of the Circle Library.

Personal belongings:
-A single Oathkeeper sword
-A metal kite shield with the Templar insignia on it with a red outline
-Two pouches of Lyrium as provided by the Chantry to control the Lyrium addiction
-Personal wealth of 1 Sovereign, 52 Silver, and 38 coppers.
-Full set of Templar Regalia

Bio: Ellisia MacLeode was born as the illegitimate daughter of a brother in the Chantry, and to a Denerim prostitute who worked at the Pearl. She spent much of her early life in the confines of the fancy brothel, living off of what her mother could earn and what others would offer. She held a great distaste of the lifestyle for much of her early life and always sought a way to escape it.

She found that way when she joined a travelling caravan to Lothering when she was 16, leaving her mother at the Pearl to never see her again. Along the way, while travelling on the Imperial Highway, the caravan was attacked by a rogue malificar. Who then kidnapped Ellisia and took her to be in a ritual with blood magic in the Brecilian Forest. She was rescued by a Templar who was hunting the mage, and was mesmerized by his combat prowess. He took her to be trained as a Templar in Fereldon.

She was made a full Templar when she was 28, and serves at the Circle Tower in Ferelden. She maintains her duties of patrolling the libraries of the Tower, keeping watch on the mages as they read and accumulate knowledge, taking time to talk to the mages to keep herself informed as to watch for any sign of corruption. While her initial intent was to keep vigilant, she instead found herself caring for the mages, for their struggle and their problems. She keeps that sort of sympathy to herself, as to avoid any form of issues as Templars are not meant to feel sympathy for the mages.

Items

Oneshots

by **Asyir** » Mon Aug 04, 2014 7:55 am

Ser Emmittyn Ryes

Warrior Application
Race: Human
Age: 44
Gender: Male
Appearance: Ser Emmittyn Ryes has neat, cropped, short golden blonde hair, like his father and most of his house. He has sapphire blue eyes, with a long nose, a scruffy beard, and an otherwise handsome face. He is small in stature, but has a body well built and well toned for fighting on foot or horse. His face is scarred however. From his left checkbone to his lower jaw sits a massive scar, courtesy of an Orlesian Chevalier. He has massive burns from a Mage employed by the Orlesians as well that covers his left torso, where the skin just started to regain its vitality.
Personality: Emmittyn is a humble, courteous man, who places honor and duty above all else including his life and his wife. He is a natural leader, and will actively seek to fill vacant leadership roles in a group. He is frank, and will speak his mind, and is known to openly critical of others, including his King Calian. Although he may appear tough and scruffy on the outside, he is soft and caring of those around him, and actively seeks to protect and ward danger away from others, even if it means sacrificing himself in the process.
Personal Belongings: Steel Longsword(Cousland blade design), steel kite shield with Ryes Heraldry(Wolf combatant much like the Starks), Heavy Steel Chainmail(diligence model), Heavy Steel Chainmail Boots and gauntlets, a steel commander's helm, a elm longbow, a quiver of 12 arrows, 1 sovereign, and 2 lesser health poultices.
Bio: Born to Paulus Ryes of the bann of Greenstone in the year Blessed 8:83, he grew up in the resistence to Orlais. His mother died during childbirth and his father was killed in a skirmish at Highever when Emmittyn was 6 years old, and this left Emmittyn the last of his line. When he turned 7, Maric discovered Emmittyn has the makings of a warrior, and had him trained in sword and shield, bowmanship, hand to hand, and horsemanship. When Emmittyn completed his training at 14, he was squired to General Loghain. While squired to Loghain, he was taught leadership and strategy by the General. Loghain was impressed with Emmittyn's quick grasp of military stratagem, and gave him command of the left army when he turned 16. Emmittyn led the 3,000 strong left army during the Battle of River Dane, where he fought valiantly against the Orlesian forces. At one point during the battle, a chevalier commander stepped forth to challenge the young Emmittyn, and they exchanged nearly 50 bouts, before the Orlesian was slain. Then he ordered a full assault, and routed the Orlesian left flank. Although his role was considered minor in the grand schem of thing, Maric knighted him immediately after the battle, and he remained in Denerim with Maric. After 6 years in Denerim, he married a beautiful commoner woman, and moved back to his bann at Greenstone. While there he had 3 sons, and a daughter. By age they were Eldric(9:12 Dragon), Willhelm(9:15 Dragon), Arwyn(9:19 Dragon, and Maric(9:22 Dragon). When Maric was lost at sea, he helped search for 2 years, but returned fruitless. He returned to the capital periodically to hunt with King Calian and Bann Teagen Guerrin.

When the Darkspawn surged forth from the Korcori Wilds, he mustered his levies, and marched south with his eldest son Eldric, whom was recently knighted at 17(he is 18), leaving behind the Keep with his trusted advisor Gannigus. He arrived nearly days after Calian himself, and participated in all the battles prior to Calian's death. During that battle, he saw the becon was lit, and knew that Loghain betrayed them. He led a reckless onslaught to attempt to break through to save Calian, but witnessed the King falling in battle to an ogre. He immediately retreated with his remaining men, and his son. His men only numbered 20, nearly all 1,000 died in the battle. While on the march, his son became gravely Ill, and Emmittyn knew it was from the taint. He led Eldric out alone, and slew him, rather than have his son suffer. He sheded a single tear during the act. He returned to his camp, only to see that bandits killed his men. After a quick fight, he slew the bandits, and went north to Lothering, to spread word of Loghain's treachery. When he arrived, he saw the city on the brink of destruction, and decided to remain behind to help in whatever way possible.

Items

Steel Longsword, Heavy steel Chainmail set. Steel commander's helm. Steel kite shield. 1 soverign. Elm longbow. 12 arrows. 2 lesser health poultices.

One Shots

by **The Ik Ka Ek Akai** » Mon Aug 04, 2014 9:00 am

Lenavel

Mage Application

Name: Lenavel

Race: Elf

Age: 19

Gender: Female

Appearance:

A bit more detail: Lenavel has long, wavy red hair and gray eyes. Like most elves, her physique is slender and her skin is pale. She does not wear much in terms of accessories, only a black choker and a Dalish pendant. Even her face is plain, whereas most Dalish have vallaslin tattoos covering it. She also has a small sylvanwood ring depicting Fen'harel betraying the gods, as most keepers or firsts might have.

Lenavel wears two gloves reaching past her elbows, and two boots of the same relative size (arms:legs). What is odd is that her boots do, in fact, cover her toenails. Lenavel wears something reminiscent of the Dalish leather armor, though it is instead pants and a shirt, as well as being more close-fitting. Like the armor, the shoulders remain bare and the neckline is medium. It provides minor protection, and also provides a layer of clothing for cold weather. Not being a huntress, she does not require the mobility that things such as an open midriff would provide.

Externally, Lenavel dons a simple green tunic, long enough to reach just below her hips. It is sleeveless and thick, and belted at the waist. Outermost, she may, but not always, wear a dark brown cloak. This would be saved, however, for unusually cold weather in places like Haven.

Personality: Lenavel is shy, but not easily scared otherwise. She does, however, have a general minor fear of humans, and a dislike for the Tevinter. While her friend, Ashanil, harbors what might be called a "hate" for them, Lenavel instead avoids them if she can. Once she thinks of someone as a friend, she will become, well, friendlier. She gives help to her friends when asked, but may stop and question the morality of it depending on the situation. She scarcely stands up for herself, but will defend her friends however she can. She is forgiving, perhaps too forgiving, but there is a threshold which she deems difficult to forgive. Seeing the best in everyone, Lenavel tends to put her trust in others far too easily. However, trust does not equal friendship.

Mage specialty: Keeper (most non-specialized spells would be creation and primal)

Maleficar? Nope

Personal belongings: Dalish staff, Dalish pendant, a small bag carrying mostly coins (but with room for more)

Bio: Lenavel was born into a clan roaming Ferelden. Her magic was discovered one day while playing with the other girls, and she became the clan's first. Feeling obliged to the clan, she began her studies. She memorized the history, learned the spells, and her arguably most favorite part was the songs. She enjoyed listening to music, singing along, for it provided some fun as she studied. Of course, there came a time when she had finished learning the clan's culture, and she picked up learning the flute. In her free time, she often went to her childhood friend, Ashanil.

One day, it all went wrong. On Ashanil's 18th birthday, she was destined to get her vallaslin. Lenavel would do the same in 3 months. However, before the celebrations occurred, the two went out for a walk, as they had so many times before. Walking along the trails, the two encountered a group of bandits. Though they fought, the bandits managed to overcome them. The bandit leader, being a Tevinter and one of many slave traffickers, took the two Elves as slaves to be smuggled into the Imperium. In the more strong-hearted huntress, this only inspired anger, while the softer Lenavel grew a phobia instead. Their weapons were taken to be sold later. Over a year, the two Dales were slaves of the bandits.

At the end of the year, as the bandits were nearing the Tevinter border, Ashanil managed to get free of the bandit imprisonment. Retrieving her weapons, she likewise cut Lenavel free, giving her back her staff, and telling her to run. She did, with Ashanil close behind. The two lost each other, but Lenavel kept going. She would find that her clan had moved on, and Ashanil was still nowhere to be found. Knowing not where to go, she would make her way to Lothering, a nearby village, with hopes that she might figure out what to do next.

TL;DR: Friend's 18th birthday goes wrong, bandits take them as slaves, they escape and get separated, Lenavel goes to Lothering with no idea what to do.

Items

Dalish staff; Dalish pendant, sylvanwood ring, small bag

Oneshots

by **Phalnia** » Mon Aug 04, 2014 10:55 am

Agern Gonrelt

Warrior Application
Name: Ser(formerly) Agern Gonrelt
Race: Dwarf
Age: 36
Gender: Male
Appearance:

Personality: Agern is gruff and hard to get close to. He tends to ignore those he finds uninteresting and has little tolerance for fools and screw-ups. Despite this outward showing, Agern is known to open up to the few he grows close with.
Personal belongings: Veridium maul, set of steel dwarven massive armor, one sovereign, and two lesser health potions.
Bio: Agern was born into the warrior caste in Orzammar. His house, the Gonrelt house, has fairly high in the caste and respected for their superior fighters and commanders. Agern dutifully followed in this proud tradition. He placed first in his first outing in the Provings. At seventeen he joined his first excursion into the Deep Roads and by twenty he led his own squad. That same year Agern wed the daughter of a fellow warrior. It seemed as though Agern was well on his way to cementing a legacy in Orzammar and the Deep Roads.

In his twenty-third year, Agern's wife was with child and his house was prosperous. However, his fate was not that simple. While fighting in the Deep Roads Agern's wife was caught in the middle of a street fight between two young warriors. She was accidently run through the middle by one of the combatants. As she lay dying in the street the brawlers fled and word spread throughout the city and eventually reached Agern in the field. Despite his dedication to the cause and his men, Agern abandoned his posting and returned to the city. No one he spoke to was sure which man had killed his wife and frankly didn't care.

One day and two murders later Agern stood before the Assembly. He offered no defense for actions, save his willingness to avenge his wife death when others wouldn't. The assembly voted to exile Agern to the surface as punishment. He was permanently banned from the city and stripped of all titles, holdings, and possessions. For the next thirteen years Agern wandered the surface. He traveled to Val Royeaux and Denerim and points in between. He took work as a mercenary, a bodyguard, and a thug. Today, Agern finds himself in Lothering, having finished up a contract nearby.

Items

Veridium Maul
Steel Dwarven Massive Armor
One Sovereign
Two Lesser Helth Potions

Oneshots

Agern stood over the corpse, breathing heavily. His maul was caked in blood and his armor was covered in the same blood. The dwarf looked around the cavern, it was the first time he'd been able to get a good look at it. It was fairly large, in both height and width. In one corner a waterfall, fed by some unknown source, splashed into a deep pool. Unfortunately, the water was long ago tainted by the darkspawn and unfit for drinking. In the opposite corner the darkspawn had built a pen. It wasn't clear what they had kept in there, but the bloodstains and bones didn't bode well for whatever it was. Other than those two features the cavern was unremarkable and the only tunnel was back the way they had come. Regardless, it needed to be mapped for future reference.

"Caeric, make sure you add this cave to our charts." Agern looked around when he heard no response. He then saw why. Caeric lay dead next several slain genlocks. Agern sighed, this was Caeric's first journey into the Deep Roads and he had shown much promise. Agern looked to the rest of his men. Of the twelve he had led down here eight remained. The dwarf looked back to Caeric's remains. He had died with his axe in his hand. A good death. Agern thought.

He turned to one of his men who was still living. "Getan, take Caeric's charts, you're our cartographer now." Getan nodded and knelt down to rummage through Caeric's bags. "The rest of you help me gather up the dead. Dwarves over there," Agern pointed towards the tunnel leading out of the cave. and the darkspawn here in the center." The dwarves began the task of policing the bodies.

Ten minutes later the survivors were leaving the tunnel behind, with their own dead in tow and the darkspawn burning in a mass pile. After several hours of traversing tunnels and cutting down darkspawn stragglers, Agern and his squad arrived at their expedition camp. Most of the other squads had already returned from their missions. There were noticeably less dwarves now than when they had set off from Orzammar. But, this was all to common in the Deep Roads. No one, save the Legion of the Dead, knew more about the true horrors of the darkspawn than the warrior caste of Orzammar.

Near the center of the camp Agern and his men dropped of their dead so they could be returned to the Stone. Agern dismissed the squad as he went to deliver the new charts to the commander.

The camp was quiet. The last squads had stumbled home, they'd taken a beating from a darkspawn warband. The only activity in the camp was the sentries patrolling the outskirts, watchful for any darkspawn. Agern lay still breathing steadily, he couldn't think of anything, but home. He missed Elsta, his wife. Even though their marriage had been planned before their birth he had come to love her and he believed she felt the same. Agren also worried he would miss the birth of his son, at least he hoped it was a son. This expedition had been extended numerous times already, and they were nearing seven months out of Orzammar.

Eventually, Agren drifted off to sleep. His sleep was calm and free of dreams, as all dwarves dreams are. In the morning, or what passed for morning underground, Agren woke to the sounds of the camp setting up for the day. Cooking pots were scattered around the camp. Yum, more gruel. Agren mentally prepared himself for tasteless mush as he took a seat with his squadmates. As they ate their "food", they told the same jokes and stories they had told since entering the Deep Roads. It was repetitive and boring, but it served to pass the time before they ventured out.

Around the second knock-knock joke, a runner entered the camp. These people came around once a week to deliver mail. It was a dangerous job, wandering around darkspawn territory alone. Agren didn't envy those men. After relaying official orders to the commanders the messenger handed out personal correspondence.

"Agren Gonrelt!"

Agren stood up and grabbed his letter as the messenger shouted out another name. Agren looked at the seal closing the letter. Hmm, it's not from Elsta. Looks like my brother Reyt. Agren broke the seal and read over the letter. It was short and to the point. Agren had to read it several times before it sank in.

Dear Agren,

Brother, this letter is difficult to write, but it has to be. Elsta and your child are dead. She was run through during a street duel. I've had men out questioning witnesses. The few who will talk only say that Darik Edtek and Treil Grak were the fighters, they won't say who killed her. I've petioned the Assembly, but the damn deep lords refuse to investigate and the Shaperate has her death listed as an accident. Agren, I'm sorry.

Stone guide you,
Reyt Gonrelt

by **Communist Androids** » Mon Aug 04, 2014 11:03 am

Adethiel Idras

Warrior
Name: Adethiel Idras, goes by Adeth.
Race: Elf
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Appearance:

Personality: Adethiel is headstrong and rather rough around the edges. Not overly violent but she'd sooner stab her enemies than talk to them. Not really sure what else to put, I prefer to develop this as I write.
Personal belongings: Two iron daggers, leather armor, a brown hooded cloak, and a small amount of coin, ten silvers and a handful of bits.
Bio:
Adethiel was born an only child in the Denerim Alienage, her father working at one of the local stores and her mother doing odd jobs for money. Growing up, her favorite activities always revolved around roughhousing and the like, despite the disapproval of her parents. It was where she learned the basics of fighting. Her early childhood was otherwise uninteresting, lacking any major traumatic or otherwise life changing events. During her teenage years she got involved in a gang in the Allienage when her family fell on hard times, to put bread on the table.

She had no skill for stealth, so her role was more overt. Mugging, intimidation, etcetera. She managed to get her hands on a pair of daggers, and it was training with the other members of the gang that she learned how to fight with a blade, though a dagger was hardly comparable to a longsword. She made a good deal of coin this way, and luckily for Adethiel her family never pushed when she lied about where she got the money. During this time, life was good. The junior Idras had friends in the gang, newfound skills in combat that grew with each passing month, and her family now had more than enough money to survive on.

The first major issue in her life came when it was time to get married. As with all the Alienage elves, she was to be set up in an arranged marriage. She was opposed to the idea of marrying a man she didn't know, but not enough to make her simply refuse. The problem came with her 'source of income'. She knew it would be especially difficult to maintain that life with a husband. On top of that, her gang were her friends, her people, and it'd been that way for years. Crime was what she did. That was what made the decision for her, and she was adamant about it. Her parents still tried, but Adethiel's efforts to sabotage them and appear as the most unsuitable wife possible prevailed. While there was a great deal of tension between her and her parents, the situation eventually went back to normal.

The next major issue appeared some years later, this one far more significant. After years of crime, Adeth's luck finally ran out. For once she was well and truly caught. Well, not thrown in prison, but the posters with her face on it going up around Denerim would significantly increase the chance of that happening. She had little choices, either pray she didn't get caught, or flee. She chose the latter. She finally came clean to her parents about her profession, and despite their anger, left with a hug and kiss. The gang she had run with for so long acquired a cloak and suit of armor for her, something she was endlessly grateful for. With that, Adeth made the decision to flee very far from Demerim. Hopefully to return some time once everyone had forgotten she existed. Until then she stuck to a regular routine. Show up in a town, stay in the inn, mug a few unsuspecting victims, and move on before any humans decided to corner her in an alley. Damn shems had a tendency to do that when an elf shows up unwanted.

Items

Two iron daggers, leather armor, a brown hooded cloak, and a small amount of coin, ten silvers and a handful of bits.

Oneshots

by **Videssos** » Mon Aug 04, 2014 11:05 am

Kalestos Vorenus

Mage Application
Name: Kalestos Vorenus
Race: Human
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Appearance:

Personality: See bio.
Mage speciality: Bloodmage
Maleficar? Maleficar.
Personal belongings: Staff of the Magister Lord (with a bladed bottom end), Silverite dagger (Tevinter wave blade, enchanted with cold), ornate, gold and silver embroidered enchanted black linen hooded cloak, Robes of the Magister Lord (more or less like in the game, though combined partially with red steel scale armour, and embroidered with gold and silver, as well as some inset rubies and emeralds), lyrium embroidered black gloves. Some healing potions and lyrium potions. Black boots that regenerate mana/stamina, offer some magic resistance and a willpower bonus. An enchanted ornate black Starmetal mask, adorned with rubies, sapphires and emeralds. A fair amount of money, generic Tevinter noble clothes, etc. A book on blood magic named the Karaethon Cycle, written by an ancient Tevinter Magister, as well as several other books. Lifedrinker amulet. Blood Ring, Awakened's Might ring. Likewise, an enchanted Tevinter belt that boots regeneration, spirit damage and spellpower. Though not often worn these days, due to standing out and effectively announcing his higher class Tevinter origins, as well as being obviously battle-oriented, he also has, stored away in his gear, Altus Mage armour.
Bio:

Kalestos grow up as a member of a fairly rich Tevinter noble family- actually a branch family of the current Imperial Archon, receiving a fairly good education in most things- being not bad with several weapons, either, but most important was his obsession with magic and knowledge. His father was a Tevinter Magister, and most of his family weren't exactly shy in using blood magic, and experimenting in the more shunned forms of magic. Among them, Euphemia Vorenus, his older sister being something of an ambitious experimenter, often testing various forbidden magics on him, and helping create the myriad array of personalities that exist in his mind. Though there were also physical scars as well as mental. At some point during this, his hair turned from dark red to white. Kalestos is sometimes hesitant when he goes into the fade, as he had an unfortunate encounter there with one of the more powerful pride demons, and was trapped in a nightmare realm for some time.

Unbeknownst to him, his sister had manipulated him into the situation as one of her greater experiments. When he barely managed to escape, his memories on that a a little odd, as there are certain things he does not quite remember, he discovered that a problem had formed in whilst he was in his predicament- a problem other than the degradation of his sanity. He does not realize that he never properly escaped, and had to make an agreement with the demon, so that they would share the same body, and he would wake. The demon could take over him at will, and it obviously shows an intelligent mind, not having turned him into an abomination or anything of the obvious sort. Part of the agreement forced upon Kalestos was that he would forget the last part of the debacle itself, and so the truth concerning the scheme of things would never be known by him.

His family had been discovered using blood magic. Now, usually the rich and powerful in the Tevinter Imperium bribe the authorities to look the other way on that kind of thing, but his father had powerful enemies, and so they had to go into hiding- most of them split up to better hide from those who were after them, and would end up travelling to distant places. Most of which were in Ferelden. It later turned out that in order to further her power, Euphemia had betrayed them and aided a rival magister. Kalestos was given the the Magister Lord's staff, by his father, and just before they were to separate, Euphemia once more appeared, killing their father brutally with a lethal blood magic spell, even as the detachment of Tevinter guards protecting him tore each other to pieces, driven insane by magics of a similar calibre.

Accordingly, Kalestos fled rapidly, soon escaping. Having travelled to various parts of Thedas; the latest of these being Ferelden, he has adjusted to imitating the accents and customs of people round this land fairly well, and treads carefully, lest those who would hunt apostates, not to mention blood mages, like himself; find him. With the Darkspawn let loose, he seeks to not only survive, but to profit and grow in power from the chaos that besets Ferelden. Of course, it may be possible a future he hadn't anticipated lies in wait for Kalestos.

Sometimes delving into the kinds of activities that Tevinter nobles do best (hint; associated with a cabal of blood mages, and involved in the slave trade), he usually portrays himself as an a avid reader of books, as well as a scholar, philosopher and theologian of sorts, despite his youth. His interest in literature has also leant him knowledge of numerous languages, from ancient Tevene, to Qunlat, Orlesian, Rivaini, Antivan, Ander, Elvish and several Dwarven languages. Not mentioning, obviously, the common tongue, and Tevene. Accordingly, an obsession with the forbidden, as well as history, war and magic has also afforded Kalestos a considerable amount of knowledge, be it of various historical accounts of world events, as well as being able to recognise the origins of old artefacts, buildings and such, including potential ancient sites in which things of magical import may lie, or have once lain. In other areas, he's also been known to play the violin, string-harp or flute, among other instruments, at times.

He's a bit of a lone wolf, and if he ever allies with someone else, you can be sure he'll inevitably attempt to plot their downfall, and stab them in the back when the time is right. In short, Kalestos manipulates anyone through his words or use of magic for his own desires. He is a seeker of knowledge, often sneaking into ancient ruins and perusing through old tomes. Lust and greed fuel his motives, and he allies with no one, instead choosing to manipulate both sides to get what he wants.

He is rather odd at times. Said oddness is apparent in the variety of different personalities he seems to have. His darker, more animal-like side can be quite predatory in nature, when baser instincts and emotions have more sway over him. Sometimes he can be brutal, impulsive, excessively-violent and possessing of a lethally-short temper. However, despite his aggression and obvious blood lust in battle, he can possess a feral cunning and has a knack for quickly exploiting any opening his opponent reveals. In addition, he can be blunt, sarcastic, and quite sadistic, revealing a psychotic grin or laughing maniacally whenever he becomes excited sometimes, or eerily silent, cold and disdainful at other times. He is also very rude and quite disrespectful at times, and mockingly polite, cunning and manipulative at others. He's often serious, yet at the same time disdainful of others, often laughing when opponents claim that they can defeat him, unless they tie in with things he's come to fear in life. He possesses both a superiority complex and an inferiority complex. He sometimes considers most other people weaker, and beneath him. He treats them as you might expect, yet when he believes others to be stronger- a rare thing indeed, or they have proven themselves to be stronger, Kalestos obsesses over them, wanting to become as strong as them, yet also seeming fanatical towards them, and perhaps as scared of them.

And he can often be a far cry from disdainful, being rather the opposite on other occasions. On the rare occasion, an older self of his can appear, which seems friendly, cheerful, good-natured, and tends to acts very carefree, masking many of his real feelings with a smile. Kalestos is often emotionally distant, refusing to allow anyone to become too close to him. At other times, he can seem vague, distracted and oddly emotionless. At times, he can be something of a gambler. He often plays chess and cards. He also likes nature, and has a fondness for the night, and darkness.

I may add a bit more to his bio, but I think this should be comprehensive enough to give a general outline of him.

Items

Staff of the Magister Lord (with a bladed bottom end), Silverite dagger (Tevinter wave blade, enchanted with cold), ornate, gold and silver embroidered enchanted black linen hooded cloak, Robes of the Magister Lord (more or less like in the game, though combined partially with red steel scale armour, and embroidered with gold and silver, as well as some inset rubies and emeralds), lyrium embroidered black gloves. Some healing potions and lyrium potions. Black boots that regenerate mana/stamina, offer some magic resistance and a willpower bonus. An enchanted ornate black Starmetal mask, adorned with rubies, sapphires and emeralds. A fair amount of money, generic Tevinter noble clothes, etc. A book on blood magic named the Karaethon Cycle, written by an ancient Tevinter Magister, as well as several other books. Lifedrinker amulet. Blood Ring, Awakened's Might ring. Likewise, an enchanted Tevinter belt that boots regeneration, spirit damage and spellpower. Though not often worn these days, due to standing out and effectively announcing his higher class Tevinter origins, as well as being obviously battle-oriented, he also has, stored away in his gear, Altus Mage armour.

Oneshots

by **The Serbian Empire** » Mon Aug 04, 2014 11:20 am

Marise the Vixen

Rogue Application
Name: Marise the Vixen
Race: Human
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Appearance: There's a reason she's called The Vixen. Looks a lot like the merchant Liselle from Denirim who was a favorite of Chevaliers in Orlais for her beauty and the Bio will explain why.
Personality: Headstrong, caring, and very enterprising
Personal belongings: Two steel daggers, leather armor, leather boots, leather gloves, 5 health potions, and 2 sovereigns
Bio: There is a reason she looks like Liselle physically. That is because they are sisters and the story actually begins with Liselle and her brother having a run in with a Chevalier which made them flee Orlais. Marise originally left Val Royeaux to tell her siblings that the Chevalier they had a run in with had died in a jousting match and that it was safe to come back home. However, Liselle thought it was still unsafe to come back home as Chevaliers will still want to rape her.

With that Marise decided to stay in Ferelden as going back would mean she'd also be facing similarly corrupt Chevaliers. Marise didn't want to sell oils in the Alienage and decided that her skills with a blade were good enough to be a mercenary. She spent nine months selling oils and flowers in the Alienage in Denerim to save up for armor and potions as to go venturing off. The daggers she bought back in Orlais will serve her well.

Items

Personal belongings: Two veridium daggers (sold the steel ones to the arms dealer), an iron saw sword, leather armor, leather boots, leather gloves, 2 health potions, and a sovereign, 65 silver, and 37 copper. Also add four drake scales, some ancient elven clothing, silver shavings, 5 elfroot, and 5 vials.

Oneshots

by **Garwall** » Mon Aug 04, 2014 12:14 pm

KARITH "THE QUICK" OF HOUSE ARREN

Name: Karith "the Quick" Arren
Race: Human
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Appearance: There's no cure for being a...
Personality: Reserved, watchful with a high level of situational awareness. Strong sense of humor that is generally kept to himself. Relatively high level of sarcasm. Amiable towards elves, quarrelsome with Dwarves, wary/protective against Magi, hostile towards slavers, belligerent towards Nobility.
Personal belongings:

Weapons: Steel Arming sword paired with a large round shield for shield-and-sword combat, or alternatively paired with a parrying dagger. Also carries a small dirk to use in emergencies or for skinning animals.
Armor/clothing: Long black leather cloak, heavy chain and light plate armor around the chest and upper arms/legs, thick leather/light chain protection around the forearms and lower legs, leather gloves, thick leather belt and lightly-plated leather boots.
Potions/poultices: One "cure-all" poultice meant to prevent infection/disease as well as poison, made from natural ingredients. Two health poultices meant to stop bleeding in event of injury. Various linen used to bind wounds.
Personal belongings: Small sack of silver and gold, kept hidden on person at all times, small linen kerchief given from late wife, bag of assorted tools for maintaining weapons.

Bio: Karith was born to a family of low Nobility of Knights, risen up as a result of the the Third Blight. This all came crashing down in the following chaos of the Fourth Blight, with all being lost. The last scions of House Arren would end as captive slaves in the Tevinter Imperium, in which Karith was raised. Although they were slaves, Karith's parents insisted on a Noble's education, teaching him reading and writing in secret, while Karith's father taught him the art of self defense and combat. They insisted on a life more than slavery for Karith, and at the age of thirteen his parents orchestrated Karith's escape and flight to Ferelden, with two of the family's most precious possessions: Quicksilver, the family sword, and the seal of House Arren.

Karith was charged with displaying the seal to the first Noble family he encountered; hopefully Noble birth would secure him the position of squire at some low court. However, Kariths blind image of the nobility of knights would be shattered when he encountered a knight on the Free Marches. He was quickly accused as a thief and a liar when he presented the seal, and the squire of the knight took the seal as the knight attempted to disarm Karith of his sword. In a blind rage, Karith drew a dagger of the knight and plunged it deep into his neck, with the force only a slave breaking free of his bonds could muster. The squire fled in terror, and with him, Karith's only chance of redeeming his family's honor.

Making his way to Denerim, Karith became a street urchin, surviving only at the grace of the chantry. Day after day, Karith watched the Templars of the chantry train, practicing in tandem with Quicksilver. With years of training in secret, Karith began his career as a mercenary and soldier of Ferelden at the age of seventeen.

For the next seven years, Karith sold his sword across Ferelden, gaining a small reputation as a reliable soldier, until he laid his sword down forever after his party of hired blades was tasked with slaying an entire family in a dispute between nobles. Karith served as a farmhand in the outskirts of Denerim for three years, learning the trade and honing his green thumb. At the age of twenty five, Karith met an elf by the name of Selaria in the Alienage of Denerim. Love struck, the two fell in love and a year later, fled Denerim and married in the outskirts of the city. With every last copper saved throughout his career, Karith purchased a small plot of land in the Free Marches and began his own farm. For a while, the two were happy: until it all fell apart.

As the first harvest approached, the local Bann caught wind of the "abomination" of the marriage between Karith and Selaria. Dispatching two riders to enforce his right of Prima Nocta to try and drive the two from their land, the riders returned with one set of broken legs and a set of broken arms between the two of them. Enfuriated, the noble led a party in the night, burning the farm to the ground. In the chaos, Selaria was cut down. Too shocked to move, Karith held her body through the night, as the fires raged. The next day, he buried her among the ashes of his shattered life, and among the rubble the gleam of Quicksilver called to him.

In the dark of night, Karith entered the manor of the murderous Bann, killing everything in his path. Once the Bann was dead, he set the house ablaze and rode for anywhere but Ferelden, leaving his dark past behind for good. For the next several years, he served as a drunken mercenary in the hire of foreign armies, not caring who he killed, until in the heat of battle one day he encountered a husband defending his wife with a rusty knife, against two sellswords. Realizing the error of his ways, Karith struck down his allies and fled the battle. With word of an evil army rising in Ferelden's borders, Karith decided it was time to face his demons.

Items

Weapons: Steel Arming sword paired with a large round shield for shield-and-sword combat, or alternatively paired with a parrying dagger. Also carries a small dirk to use in emergencies or for skinning animals.
Armor/clothing: Long black leather cloak, heavy chain and light plate armor around the chest and upper arms/legs, thick leather/light chain protection around the forearms and lower legs, leather gloves, thick leather belt and lightly-plated leather boots.
Potions/poultices: One "cure-all" poultice meant to prevent infection/disease as well as poison, made from natural ingredients. Two health poultices meant to stop bleeding in event of injury. Various linen used to bind wounds.
Personal belongings: Small sack of silver and gold, kept hidden on person at all times, small linen kerchief given from late wife, bag of assorted tools for maintaining weapons, canteen capable of holding water.

Oneshots

by **SaintB** » Tue Aug 05, 2014 2:10 am

ARSAM BELGER

Mage Application
Name: Arsam Belger
Race: Human
Age: 30
Gender: M
Appearance: Arsam is a tall man standing over six feet with hazel eyes and dark brown hair that he keeps cropped short. His build is thick and hardy but possesses a greater dexterity than it reveals by its looks and he is clean shaven with no prominent features.
Personality: Quiet and guarded, Arsam has a dangerous secret that he does not want anyone to discover so he does his part and gets his coin.
Mage speciality: Arcane Warrior
Maleficar? Yes (see bio)

Bio: Arsam does not remember a time before being brought to the tower of Kinloch Hold and being initiated into it's circle and his keepers were not so mysteriously silent on his early life. Like so many other his formative years were spent in the seclusion of the tower and he grew used to the dusty and droll lifestyle of the arcane circle and forgot about having any other kind of life. When he entered his teens and finally began to learn the ways of magic he discovered a talent for destructive primal spells that was alarming to the Templar of the tower and many petitioned the Knight Commander to have Arsam be made tranquil but Greagoir is a fair man and allowed the young mage to keep his ability and eventually take his Harrowing.

The trouble did not begin for him until little over a year later when an archeological expidition sponsored by the circle in the Brecillian Ruins broke into a lower chamber that was discovered to be full of dangerous skeletons and giant spiders. The spellcasters on the expidition were mostly dedicated researchers with little combat ability and the Templar on the site ruled that it was not their purpose to be killing spiders in a moldy dungeon so some apostates could look at the colorful baubles therein. With the funds for mercenaries not available First Enchanter Irving gathered together some of the best magicians with combat ability, including Arsam, and sent them to work as part of the expidition. Arsam's apititude for incinerating things was a godsend to the expidition and even after the site was deemed clear they kept Arsam on as their on site security 'should something else arise', little did they know that the something else would be Arsam.
One day while poking through the lower ruins alone he discovered a strange philactory not much different from the one he himself had to put his blood into many years before and was curious so began studying it. As he touched it he discovered a presence inside the philactory, an intity with intelligence that reached out and made brief but life changing contact with him.

Arsam never gave it a chance to finish contacting him before assuming it was a demon that would try to seduce him with power and squirreled the item away, but what now? He feared that if he turned the item over the Templar would discover its nature and have him killed to avoid the chance of him being corrupt or worse yet made tranquil; but he could also not leave it where he found it for the chance that someone else would discover it and be corrupted by the being inside so he resolved that he would study the artifact in secret until he could unbind and destroy the demon before turning it in. For many nights he hid the philactory away and poured over volumes on Demonology and the history of Brecillia to prepare for the battle of wills that was sure to come until finally he felt ready.

One fateful night he once again made contact with the entity inside. He felt more than heard the story of woe that the entity began to unravel for him... it claimed to be an elven warrior from an ancient and now lost caste that combined magic with skill at arms founded in the days before humankind even set foot in the forests around Brecillia. The spirit inside had been trapped for more than a millenium inside the vessel and sought only release so that it could move on to the afterlife and in return offered to teach him its secrets. At first he didn't believe what he was being told and hid the artifact away again but for a fortnight he tried to reveal the demon inside but he was given the same story, his interogations never revealed any inconsistencies and his probes never revealed any vile taint or malicious intent so in time he came to almost believe the elf in a bottle. What if it was telling the truth? What if Arsam gave the spirit its final wish and was responsible for relearning a lost form of Elven Magic that was unknown to mankind; how invaluable would it be to the Circle of Mages?

The next night before dawn Arsam snuck past the Templar guarding the camp and deep into the ruins. When he came to the place he discovered the artifact the spirit inside began to hum and vibrate and indicated to him that it should be placed on the alter on one side of the room. He followed the instructions given to him and suddenly his senses were overwhelmed and Arsam fell into unconciousness. He awoke sometime after the sun had arisen and with a sense that he knew something more than he had before but it was almost entirely jumbled and confused somewhere deep in his mind, but some of that knowledge was perfectly clear to him - Arsam had learned the secrets of the Arcane Warriors. In his excitement he forgot to be careful and after grabbing the phylactory as evidence rushed back up to the surface to tell his colleagues (whom had formed a search party) about his new discovery! He went straight to the Enchanter in charge of the dig and told him all about the phylactory and the secrets it had revelaed to him... only to be turned over to the Templars and taken into custody.

Arsam was taken back to the tower where he was sentenced to be stilled by Knight Commander Greagoir whom believed he had been tricked by a demon and possessed. Before his sentence could be carried out Arsam escaped and took one of his jailors' swords, using his newfound ability he trusted his magical instincts to guide his hand as he fought his way through to the phylactory chamber to destroy his blood sample and then fled - leaving the bodies of more than one Templar behind in his wake, a fact he still regrets.

Today Arsam has disguised himself as a regular sellsword, using the secret knowledge of the Arcane Warriors before him he has become a competent swordsman but has been afraid to delve too deap into the tangle of knowledge in his mind so as not to reveal himself for an Apostate Mage.

Items

A suit of veridium chain mail armor without a helmet, a red steel longsword, 1x Health Poultice, 53 silver and 86 copper.

Oneshots

<Put any oneshot (short story involving your character) here, in a spoiler tag>

by **The Templar High Council** » Tue Aug 05, 2014 7:27 am

Soren Fariel

Mage Application
Name: Soren Fariel.
Race: Elf.
Age: 26.
Gender: Male.
Appearance:

Personality: Studious and serious, yet knows how to take a joke. Soren was trained by powerful magi, but he's still learning most of the skills as he goes. He is learned beyond his appearance, but not his years.
Mage speciality: Battlemage/Arcane Warrior.
Maleficar? Maleficar. Well, actually a Dalish Keeper-in-training. But no Circle affiliation.
Personal belongings: Greatsword (with a shorter handle), backpack with wilderness survival stuffs, a small amount of coins (perhaps a sovereign or 2), some books.
Bio: Soren was one of the few gifted Dalish to be born with magic. And without an heir apparent, he was taken in by his Keeper as his First (meaning, he is a Keeper-in-training). Instead of hunting and playing as normal young elven boys did, Soren studied and practiced his magic. His father, somewhat wary of mages and magic in general, trained his son in the art of swordsmanship, which Soren took to gladly.

One day, while Soren was out practicing his spells and sword, Darkspawn came to his clan and slaughtered everyone there. As he returned, Soren fell to the ground in tears. He grabbed all he could, including survival supplies, his favorite books, and his weapon that his Master had helped him to craft, and left for the nearest village: Lothering. He was accepted since he was so (outwardly) willing to accept the Chantry and agreed not to cause trouble, and has been living with an old human named Hadren for some time now, working alongside him in his bookstore.

Items

Clothes on back, 2 sovereigns, backpack with survival gear, books, sword (not gonna redo image).
Added: ENCHANTED Elvhen gauntlets.

Oneshots

<Put any oneshot (short story involving your character) here, in a spoiler tag.

by **Sulania** » Wed Aug 06, 2014 10:51 pm

Party Banter

Elissia: I pray. I'm religious, it's kind of my thing.
Lenavel: Too bad it's the wrong religion.
Elissia: Heretical Heathen
Lenavel: Templar
Elissia: Umm, thank you? That's not really an insult, or an argument.
Lenavel: Oh, were we insulting each other?
Elissia: Well, calling you a heretical heathen is pretty insulting. It implies that you follow a barbaric and wrong religion.
Lenavel: Oh, I thought it was just something shemlen said. I seem to get it a lot...
Elissia: It's more of an insult against your religion. It's basically saying "My religion is right, your's is wrong."
Lenavel: Oh, okay. "Heretical heathen"....did I do it?
Elissia: Uh, yes...

Elissia: So, you and Soren...
Lenavel: Yes?
Elissia: Oh, c'mon! You cannot tell me you don't like him.
Lenavel: Do you like the knight commander?
Elissia: Greagoir? Maker, No! Though there was this one cute Templar, but he had his eye on some apprentice...

Lenavel: Suddenly quiet.
Elissia: By the Maker! You broke it!
Lenavel: Sorry miss Templar.
Elissia: It's alright chicken. The Maker forgives you for breaking his silence.
Lenavel: The maker is a bit indecisive, isn't he?
Elissia: What do you mean, beautiful?
Lenavel: Well one day he lets the Tevinters own everything, then he tells a lady to revolt with the elves, then he lets the Tevinters win, then he tells his followers to get rid of the Tevinters again, and then he attacks the Dales...
Elissia: And your Creators let Tevinter take over Arlathan, and your people going into slavery. Then, they allow the Maker to get Andraste to free your people and give them a place to call their own. Then, they allow the Dales to be taken over by Humans. Your Creators are pretty indecisive as well...
Lenavel: At least the creators used to talk to us directly.
Elissia: At least our Maker has the compassion to free people who don't even believe in him.
Lenavel: And do the Tevinters follow a different Maker? They don't seem to be doing so well.
Elissia: Technically, they do follow a different faith than us. They have a separate Chantry with a different Divine.
Lenavel: I don't think their Maker really exists...
Elissia: No sweetheart, no their Maker doesn't. Let's move on.

Lenavel: There's another templar now.
Elissia: Yes, is that something important? I figured you'd be afraid of another Templar being around.
Lenavel: I am a little. Do you think he's going to do what you did?
Elissia: I don't know. He does seem like the uptight sort that would in a heartbeat. If he does, me and Soren will do something to help you.
Lenavel: Wouldn't templars just cancel each other out, though?
Elissia: Not if I clash swords with him, and then your boyfriend comes up behind him and cleaves his head off.
Lenavel: He's not my boyfriend.
Elissia: Oh, so he's available? Might take him for myself...

Lenavel: I didn't have my staff in Lothering, you know.
Elissia: Yes, I believe you left it at the house when you came to the Chantry. Why?
Lenavel: I've just been thinking about the situation. Like how I could've tripped you and ran.
Elissia: Well, then Ser Alec would still get you.
Lenavel: And what if I tripped him?
Elissia: You think you could trip us both before the other could get up and then tackle you?
Lenavel: Maybe. The Keeper taught me a few things that might help with that.
Elissia: Hmm, well you didn't and you were saved by Soren.
Lenavel: Of course I didn't. I didn't have my staff.
Elissia: Then no sense in thinking about it sweetheart, what happened happened.
Lenavel: And why did you tie me up? It would've made it much harder to use my staff, but I didn't have it, and you're clearly stronger than I am. Did it really serve any purpose?
Elissia: Maybe it did, maybe it didn't. Maybe I just wanted to see you bound for a little bit...
Lenavel: You did say you thought I was pretty afterwards too.....doesn't that normally come first?
Elissia: Oh, don't question it kitten.

Elissia: Have you ever heard the Chant of Light?
Lenavel: No, why?
Elissia: I just thought you'd have heard it at some point, maybe little sections of it?
Lenavel: There were a few silly men called chanters. Would they be related?
Elissia: Yes, those silly men are related. They swear that they may only say the Chant of Light, and cannot speak unless it's from the Chant.
Lenavel: So that's why they never answered my questions! I thought they had just gone mad.
Elissia: One time, I walked up to one and was like 'Chanter says what?" and he said "What?", thus breaking his vow.
Lenavel: Is the word "what" really not in the Chant of Light?
Elissia: Not by itself. He could of easily fixed it up by saying: 'What hath Man sin wrought?', but he didn't.
Lenavel: What happened next? What happens when they break their vows?
Elissia: No one saw, so no one knew. So nothing happened.
Lenavel: That's no fun.

Elissia: Lena, have you ever heard of the Sabrae Dalish Clan?
Lenavel: Yes, we used to meet at the Arlathvhen.
Elissia: What can you tell me about them?
Lenavel: Well, most of them have Soren's accent. They didn't have a keeper, but they got one from the Alerion clan. Oh, and I heard one of their hunters became a darkspawn!
Elissia: Hmm, interesting.
Lenavel: Why do you ask?
Elissia: A Templar in the Circle reported about a Dalish Clan in the Brecilian Forest about a month ago. Was just curious.
Lenavel: I wonder if their hunter really did become a darkspawn.
Elissia: Perhaps.

Lenavel: Elissia, why do you get offended when we call you a shem? You're not really a very tall dwarf, are you?
Elissia: No, I'm a Human, it's because it's an offensive word. Is it not?
Lenavel: No. That's just what we call your kind. Who uses it as an insult?
Elissia: Usually the Elves in the alienage. They use both Human and Shem, and they use the word Shem to be offensive usually.
Lenavel: That's weird. But, you are not a very tall dwarf, correct?
Elissia: *Sigh* No, Lena, I'm not a tall Dwarf. I'm 100% Human.
Lenavel: Alright then.

Elissia: What's it like being a Bann?
Emmittyn: Boring. I hold court everyday. Feast with the freeholders. Go to landmeets. Attend parties. Squire other sons of nobility. Agree to land exchanges. And if I'm very lucky, have the chantry breathing down my neck for tithes.
Elissia: That, indeed, sounds boring. The parties have to be fun sometimes though.
Emmittyn: No. Well unless we're drunk. Then it's more of the nobles embarrassing themselves. One time Arl Rendon Howe striped to his undergarments and proceded to chase his wife across his grand hall.
Elissia: (Laughs) That indeed sounds funny. We Templars at the Circle Tower aren't allowed to have such festivities. It's all: Sit here and make sure the Mages behave. Rarely any fun happens there. Only time things ever get fun is when an apprentice pulls a prank or something, but then it's our job to fix it.
Emmittyn: Well, Arl Rendon was a real class act, well right up onto the point he attempted to have me assassinated.
Elissia: You nobility and your assassinations. Ah well, let's move on.

Emmittyn: Ellisia I have a question if I may?
Elissia: Sure, ask and you may receive an answer.
Emmittyn: What's it like being a Templar in the circle? You've implied it earlier, but I've become more curious about it.
Elissia: Boring, to say the least. My specific duty usually entails me standing in the Circle Library and watching the Mages as they read. I've overseen two Harrowings, killed both of the Mages as they became possessed. That's about it, to be fairly honest.
Emmittyn: So you just watch them? All day? All night? And if they slip just kill them?
Elissia: Yep, we are vanguards against the dangers of magic. And Greagoir works us to the bone, could be worse. Could be in Kirkwall.
Emmittyn: Right... So you just keep watch on the mages then and wait for them to slip. Creepy.
Elissia: Funny, that's what one apprentice said to me one time while in the library.
Emmittyn: Right... Creepy... Very very creepy...

Emmittyn: So Ellisia I have another question, if I may ask?
Elissia: You may ask, and I'll do my best to answer.
Emmittyn: So I've heard Templars must be chaste. Is that true?
Elissia: Yes, that is indeed true.
Emmittyn: So what happens of a Templar breaks that oath. Are they then removed from the order?
Elissia: I'm not sure, to be fairly honest. I never intend to break my vows, so I never bothered to ask or find out.
Emmittyn: I see... So most Templars have never experienced sex? What kind of life is that?
Elissia: A life of servitude to our Lady Andraste and the Maker. It's hard fighting the urge, mind you, but it's spiritually fulfilling.
Emmittyn: You can have sex and serve the maker you know.
Elissia: Hmm, perhaps, but I swear my unbidden loyalty to the Maker. Love is ultimately swearing loyalty to another, to love and cherish them is to separate my loyalties between them and the Maker. To have sex frivolously, is to abuse the Maker's gift to you, and therefor is forbidden. I can't have sex for love, or have sex because I want to, because my duty lies solely to the Maker.
Emmittyn: Hmmmm. Where in the chant does it say a Templar can't have sex?
Elissia: Uhh, in Threnodies. Do you want to know something?
Emmittyn: No. Not anymore.
Elissia: Oh, well then, fine.

Marise: So how do mages become arcane warriors?
Arsam: In my case; by being naive and trusting.
Marise: Is there any other way? Like being particularly strong?
Arsam: I don't think physical strength has anything to do with it. We use our magic as an instinct to guide our weapon hands and show us how to move in our armor, perhaps it might require strong magic but I don't really know any lore. I was more or less imbued with my skill...
Marise: I know the reason I wear light armor is because I'm not extremely strong to the point of wearing heavy armor. So how does this magic let people move in their armor?
Arsam: Uhm... magically?

Marise: So what is your most powerful spell?
Arsam: What do you mean by most powerful? I've always been taught that the most powerful spell is simply the most appropriate to the situation.
Marise: So does that mean each spell the most powerful in one situation and weak in another?
Arsam: Yes, that sounds like a good way to understand it. Like perhaps say in your line of work there are times when its more appropriate to just reach into a pocket than it is to just cut the strings on a purse right? Its sorta like that only with more burning and death...
Marise: I rarely pickpocket as they're harder marks, but yeah that would be a good way of describing it.
Arsam: And you know what? Both of our skills take lifetimes to master yet are looked down upon by the masses. Nobody appreciates the effort we put into our crafts.

Arsam: So I have a question for you.
Marise: What is it?
Arsam: You once asked about how I learned the secret of the arcane warrior and my reply was at best vague but you never pried. Why not?
Marise: One can see that I can't use magic. So I don't have much of an understanding of how it all works in the first place.
Arsam: Ahh. I thought maybe you realized that you were treading near dangerously personal territory and decided not to continue. I was going to say thank you for that...
Marise: I have nothing against mages. If anything, I'm a bit jealous that I have to be so close to foes in battle to do damage to them.

by **Nuxipal** » Fri Aug 15, 2014 1:34 pm

Zemyna Vestar

Mage Application
Name: Zemyna Vestar
Race: Human
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Appearance:

Personality: Has a fiery temper to match her appearance.
Mage speciality: Battlemage
Maleficar? Maleficar by default
Personal belongings: Sword-staff of fire, 4 Lyrium Potions, Noble Clothes with associated letters proving family status
Bio: Zemyna was born to a lesser noble house in Ferelden. They were given lands by the Arl of Redcliffe and tasked with defending the lands near the mountainous west. When Zemyna was discovered to be a mage by her mother, she was hidden from the circle and was tutored by several different instructors. She soon gained mastery over her powers and learned to protect herself from the demons in the fade.

Unfortunately, this didn't suit the Templars very well and upon discovery she was asked to come to the circle for testing and possibly becoming a Tranquil. Upon learning this threat to her child, Zemyna's mother sent her away to try and keep her from the Chantry's grasp. She found her way into the employ of several different Dwarven surface merchants before ending up right back where she started.

Now she is on the run from Templars in the northern areas of Ferelden. Fortunately, she can blend in fairly well with a crowd of non-mages.

Items

Sword-Staff
Noble Clothes
4 Lyrium Potions
40 Silver, 12 Copper
Family Letters

Oneshots

<Put any oneshot (short story involving your character) here, in a spoiler tag>

by **Ariado** » Sun Aug 17, 2014 6:23 pm

Warrior Application
Name:Tarik Van Markham
Race:Human
Age:19
Gender:male
Appearance: Tarik's appearance depends on the situation he is in, with two different outfits being his main attire. His armor is what he considers his first outfit which is blood red armor made for him personally. The armor covers him entirely with the sole exception of his face, which he leaved unprotected for vanity's sake. The armor isn't particularly flashy but is effective and looks unblemished by battle due to constant upkeep by himself and black smiths when possible. The only true adornment with no true use besides looks is the white paint depicting the order of the dragons. His other clothing, what he considers to be his casual wear is fairly fancy which he has kept from his time in the courts of Nevarra. He wears a regal purple shirt, with a blood red cloak of sorts for looks and for cold. His pants are blood red and fairly thick and serves two purposes besides the obvious, looking good for formal affairs and for keeping him warm.

His face itself is somewhat typical for a Nevarran. Short black hair which while obviously cut, is fairly unruly and is often uncombed unless something important was to be attended too. He is pale, more so because of living in Nevarra for so long, not because of a lack of sun altogether. He has a thin mouth and has light brown eyes that are the norm in Nevarra. His face is unblemished and he has perfect skin due to a lack of real combat experience and the care he took in making sure he was presentable at court when needed. with this attire he wears a belt dyed purple with a drake scale as a buckle.

Personality: Tarek is the perfect noble in many aspects, and he knows it, lending a certain arrogance that most expect from a noble of a well off and politically important house. He is articulate when needed, showing off a certain intelligence when it comes to many mundane issues, particularly of warfare and tactics, something he takes great pride in. He is the first to show and also talk about his nobility in both personality and upbringing. He will go out of his way to help those in need and to right wrongs that he sees. He doesn't do it out of personal want though, and more sees it as what he is expected to do as a noble of house Van Markham. His true interest lies in the dragons that his order use to slay in great numbers under Pentaghrast command. He is fascinated by them and is why he joined the order of dragons. This fascination may be the only part of his personality that he hasn't polished into the stereotypical noble that is expected to help those in need and fight for what is right.

This fascination of his has also led him to question some of the values that his parents and tutors have instilled in him. While he doesn't exactly mind the fact that he must be a noble at all times, to bring honor to Van Markham's name, he doesn't always want too. His one true interest is in dragons and killing of them, which often means helping noble causes that would help his family politically often annoy him and thinks of as necessary nuisances. He of course keeps these ideas hidden in the noble veneer he has adopted as his personality, and holds to it because he wouldn't know how to act without it.

He has been fairly sheltered his entire life, due to his noble upbringing and often times is shocked by the quality of life of peasants and non-nobles in general. This shock will often times manifest in pity hidden in kindness, although not well hidden. The realities of the circle too, while not totally ignorant of it, is also somewhat surprising, as Nevarran circles are different and more closely resemble Tevinter circles.

He is a very devout Andraste follower, although with a Neverran twist, believing that instead of returning to the maker, and their body being left behind, spirits enter the body after death and so must be mummified and allowed to live within the necropolis. This belief is core to his being, so entering other kingdoms and seeing them entomb their dead is somewhat shocking, and something he is not use too.

Personal belongings: He wears the armor of a warrior, blood red steal armor that has a dragon painted in white on the front. The only piece of armor he does not possess is a helmet. He wields a sword of near perfect human craftsmanship, made of steel and a shield with the a dragon etched upon it, with the edges of the shield outlined in blood red coloring. He also possesses a sizable amount of money on him, although he is unaware of the true value of it. The only personal belongings he is in possession of is a signet ring signifying his status as a Van Markham and a Chantry amulet with a skull under the symbol of Andraste. His one symbol of his order he holds is an ancient dragon scale that has been made into a belt buckle for his more casual attire.

Bio: Tarek was born to the powerful and wealthy Van Markham house of Nevarra. His mother was sister to the head of the household, making him the oldest nephew of the main family. This relative closeness to the main house made him an obvious choice as a future knight, to add to the prestige of the Van Markham family and to put blood ties into an order of knights. The importance put into him made it so he was raised inside the Van Markham court, with his cousins who would one day either be married off to an important duke or rule the house. While his uncle didn't spend true quality time with him, instead making a nurse maid deal with him as a parent as his mother was an important socialite with connections that his uncle needed. His cousins were another story though, taking to him quiet well as his social adroitness lent well to making friends. In particular, the heir to the Van Markham holdings became his best friend and as they grew up, this relationship would be strained as their destiny took them upon different paths, but would ultimately stay. At the age of five he started his training as a page and at age six, was tutored by some of the finest minds alongside his cousin. While his cousin was treated as an heir should be in these lessons by the tutors, he was treated harshly, as he was both less important and needed to know these details if he was going to be raised to a position of importance in knights order. This did not make him bitter though, as he took to both the physical and mental training quite well. Even at an early age, he enjoyed the trials and challenges of a more martial life and also enjoyed the history lessons, in particular the century when Nevarran dragon hunters roamed the lands for the glory killing a dragon. This fascination carried on through life and effected his choices that he made as he came of age. At the age of ten he became a squire to the head of the Van Markham family, which made his attendance to court functions and tournaments necessary. This proved to be a boon to him and the Van Markham name as his skill with words and socializing skills made him well loved at court. His personal feelings about the people didn't matter as his entire life he was raised upon the ideal that the advancement of the family was more important than himself.

His martial training continued and he proved to be a warrior of above average skill, at least for an untested knight in training. At the age of thirteen he was switched to a knight of the royal guard, and was expected to take the man's place as a royal guard. This pleased the Van Markhams but didn't exactly excite the young squire. He dreamed of the lessons taught about how noble knights killed fierce dragons in glorious battle, and wished to at least be apart of the legacy. The order of the dragons, was his ideal order and he planned on joining them on his seventeenth birthday. He couldn't tell anyone of course as he had no doubts that his mother and uncle would do everything in their power to stop them from accepting him. He would wait when he was at the family court and announce his intention then, his uncle couldn't stop him them or he would disgrace the order and would make an enemy of any noble house with a family member in it. It was a plan that would most likely put him at odds with anyone who he considered a friend or family member, but he was too strong headed to let that stop him.

His training went well after this, and he was seen as a rising star within Nevarran nobility, with a bright future as a knight of a Nevarran order. The five years went past without any real events happening, and on his seventeenth birthday, in front of court, his plan went into effect. Great fanfare was made as he was important enough with his blood ties to warrant it, and at the feast, he made the decision. He announced his intention of taking the joining rite of the order of dragons, and take part in the rich legacy of the dragon hunters. The room went silent as he did and the party was rather sullen as his uncle tried his best from yelling at his nephew's willful behavior. The feast ended early and he was sent off immediately to see the grandmaster of the order to see if he would be allowed to be anointed as a knight. The grand master at the time turned out to be not when who rose by politics, but by skill and leadership. He told him that day that he saw potential and allowed him to enter, which still put the order at odds with the Van Markhams as his uncle now detested his presence.

He spent two years splitting his time in training under the order as a knight-seeker and at court, as his cousin enjoyed his presence and often invited him there for extended periods of time. This became a point of contention between the order and the Van Markhams, as his cousin fought for him to be allowed so much leave. These absences became less frequent though, as his duties started taking over more and more of his time. As a knight-seeker, he was one of the few who left the order's keep and explored for possible signs of dragons, which had been rumored to have somehow returned to Thedas. As of his nineteenth birthday, he was sent to Fereldan to investigate rumors of drake and dragon activities. If he found his order's ancient foes, he would finally fulfill his boyhood dream of fighting one like his comrades of old.

Dragon Age: Origins - The Archive

Dragon Age: Origins - The Archive

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