Word Games: Dragon Age; Character Recruiting

[Skeet Draconis]

I apologize if this thread is misplaced. I was thinking to put it in the Fanfiction forum, but as the purpose of this particular thread is to collect character data that is being contributed by fellow participants from the Word Games forum, I assume that it better suited Collaborative Works.

Now, with that out of the way~




I had got the idea in my head to work on a Dragon Age fanfic a while back, but I never got it started. The idea then sprang up that rather than coming up with all the characters on my own, I could get my fellow Word Gamers to throw in a character, which would greatly alleviate any problems I'd have with coming up with a cast (and since Dragon Age itself is fairly large about character creation, it seems fitting) and it also will help me to guide the story itself.

The rules are as follows:


1) Be an active poster in the Word Games forum. This is the first rule listed, but it is not going to be held to a strict standard. I would prefer that this is the case, but it is not entirely necessary. WGers will merely be given preference.

2) All pertinent character information should be listed here, such as name, age, height, background, appearance, method of fighting, etc. Think of character generation from Dragon Age: Origins, and you should be well on your way.

3) As this is Gaia and we are used to Gaia-y things, a tektek should accompany your character information. (Read: It will. I want to see 'em~) If you are tektek retarded, I'll be happy to help out.

4) When creating your character, don't feel restricted to any region. I'll come up with a reason for everybody to be in the same place at the same time. I'm not entirely certain where I'll be setting the story as of yet, so don't worry too much about trying to take your character to a certain place. 3nodding We'll work through it, once everything is all said and done.

5) If you've any ideas for a plot, please feel free to share 'em~ Keep in mind that everyone who is participating needs be included.

6) I have all the time in the world, but I realize that I can't wait forever for people to send me characters. The Last Day For Submission will be January 7th January 15th. although this is subject to change, depending on various factors. Date has been extended since I had a death in the family and lost a week.




I may update this post when I can think of anything further, but that is it for now.

It's Christmas time, Faffy!

[Skeet Draconis]

Reserved. Character(s):

Work in progress.



Name: Cadfan the Cursed
Age: 26
Height: 6'1
Weight: 185lbs
Background: Chasind
Method of combat: Reaver/Champion; wields a two-handed sword

Bio: Cadfan was part of a small tribe of Chasind that lived in the Korcari Wilds, not far from Ostagar. When he was a child he was lost in the Wilds on his own for three days, and he was assumed dead. He returned stumbling back to his tribe with a strange mark upon his eyes and little memory concerning the time he had been absent. What he does remember is that upon being separated from his friends on that fateful day he heard a song playing through the trees and when he found its source, a crimson light flashed and he lost consciousness.

Convinced that he had been touched by a Witch of the Wilds, his tribe both venerated and loathed him, affording him a modicum of the respect reserved for the Withces themselves. Growing with this stigma upon him has forged his personality into something of a hard-edged alpha male, but the incident left its mark upon him both physically and mentally as well as socially. His combat training went smoothly at first, but it was not long before all the tribe noticed his strange capacity for pain, and the bizarre pleasure he took in inflicting it. He remains cognizant of his actions at all times, preferring to crush his enemies' will as well as their bodies. His choice of wielding a two handed sword seems unfitting for this task, but he uses it as a fine instrument that can inflict pain in the most direct way possible.

He led his fellow Chasind warriors, directing them on the field even as he laid waste to his own opponents. Cadfan uses his allies as weapons when on the field, and his own actions in taking down his targets often provide inspiration, as he never asks anyone to do anything he would not do himself.

It's Christmas time, Faffy!

[aura]

Finished!
Appearance:

and if she turns into a maleficar...



Name: Casría Miran (her surname means "they watch" in Spanish)
Sex: Female
Race: Human, Mage/Grey Warden
Age: 28
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 135
Background: I was born in a Grey Warden stronghold in the Anderfels (Weisshaupt), before my mother, Anaphira, drank of darkspawn blood. My magical talents were kept a secret, but I exhibited them from an early age. My father, Westir, was an apostate, and my mother was a Grey Warden (She was a rogue, like her mother before her). My mother had left me a pendant which had been a gift to her mother from King Maric, and I wear it and keep it safe in both their memories. The taint claimed my mother when I was 22, and my father and I took our Grey Warden vows shortly there after in her memory. The two of us left Weisshaupt for Ferelden when I was 24. We settled in Redcliffe, on a tiny island on Lake Calenhad (our ulterior motive was that we hoped to be a safe-house to those mages who escaped the Circle). We currently make our living doing weapon enchantments (and I am also a healer), but not many know of us.

Despite the fact that we are both Grey Wardens, Templars come by from time to time to inspect the house, because we live so close to the Tower. We don't kick them out for fear that they will strong arm us... So far we have not been caught, but that's because we are very cautious. However, it's very hard to know that we are being watched.

Having been hidden so well from the Tower of Magi, the one disadvantage I was put at was that I was not taught how to control my talent. I started hearing the whisperings of demons from an early age (6 or 7), voices telling me to harm myself so that the demon may use me as a conduit to enter the mortal realm. I was taught restraint by my father in a very harsh manor, as he caught me trying to cut opened my finger, and whipped me until my bottom was nearly bleeding While he was an apostate, my father was NOT a blood mage, and that encounter scared the Maker out of me. Needless to say, nothing like that ever happened again. From then on, I was taught not to listen to the pleas of the demons and instead practice restraint while casting my spells.

I learned shortly after we settled in Redcliffe, that my father had wanted to send me to the Tower of Magi from the minute I was born (in a series of letters between my mother and father I found in an old chest that was recovered after our cabin suspiciously went up in flames. There's also a very subtle reference to the fact that I may have an older brother...), and have never felt the same way for him since learning that fact. I understood his concern, but could not forgive his motives. While he doesn't know that I am aware of this fact, he can tell that I harbor a certain amount of disdain for him, and we have a slightly uncomfortable, shaky relationship. I have considered picking up and finding my own way, but recently he has become ill. Most likely, it's the taint, come to claim him. I remain with him for now... wondering what awaits me after he is gone.......

Personality (a sketch): I consider myself to be very unstable, and keep a close rein on my emotions. I don't trust myself. I don't trust my instincts, and it mainly stems from the encounter with my father I mentioned in the previous section. I am constantly being bombarded by the pleas of demons and spirits, and I often get lost in thought for this reason.

I am a self-loathing mage-- I feel that magic has been a curse on my family, and a curse on my life. However, I don't hate mages or magic. I feel a connection to other mages, and want to help them free themselves from the Circle, and will advocate for them against the Chantry any day (I feel that the fact that the Chantry vilifies mages and magic is the reason why everything has gotten so out of control in the first place, and if mages were allowed the same rights and freedoms as non-mages, there would be no need for a Circle or the Chantry in the first place).

I am an avid reader, and have proven to be very quick on my feet because of my intelligence. However, I feel one of my biggest personality flaws is my inability to allow myself to get close to people, because of my own guardedness. Sure, it can be good to be opinionated, but always comes with a price. I haven't really the 'ability' to make close friends, though I do have one or two who write to me from time to time. I'm hoping I can meet someone who will teach me to lighten up a bit...

But I'm only painting my negative qualities, a bad habit of mine. I do think that I am a good person; a kind person who wants to help other people, otherwise I wouldn't be a healer... Except 'kind' isn't quite the word because I am a little less gentle and delicate than the word would allow me to define it. Maybe...'benevolent' is a better word? If you have my respect, then you have my friendship,-- and that, you have for life, unless you do something stupid. But even then, I am willing to forgive and work with you toward earning it back, if the right steps are taken to rectify the situation. That may make me sound (a little) self-righteous, but I can assure you I'm not. I feel it is the fairest that I can be.

I am not a religious person, though I do sometimes pray for my father's health. I reference the Maker very loosely, and sometimes use his name in vain without thinking. I tend to reject the idea of The Fade and the Maker mostly because I don't want anything to do with any of the spirits who would make me harm myself to use me as a vessel. Whether or not I actually believe in any of it is a different story, and too personal to write here.

I get the most happiness when I am outside the house, usually as a fox or a hawk-- when the world is opened to me, and I can observe others from a safe distance. Being in the company of other people puts me at ease, but I am usually in their presence from a distance, and in a different form. However, I am not shy. I will speak up for myself and others, and have a propensity to defend the underdog.

Method of fighting: I am a mage in the classical sense, though probably more conservative than most other mages you'd meet because of the way I was raised. I tend toward healing and protection more than I do attacks, but I certainly know how to defend myself. I have remained sane only through the ability to see the world through the eyes of other creatures (I am a shapeshifter)... I am very non-confrontational and usually assess a situation from a distance before jumping in, but again, I know how to defend myself. (Oh yes... If given a sword... I'd be a little uncomfortable, but that doesn't mean that I don't know how to fight melee. I was raised in the military, after all..)

Timeline (OOC):
(•Age (-7) - Esello Miran, Casría's older brother, is born to Anaphira and Westir Miran in Antiva...
•Age (-6) - Esello is given up for adoption, as Anaphira is conscripted to the Grey Wardens. They set off by foot with a few other people and fight their way to Weisshaupt. Before Anaphira can make it to the compound, however, she is poisoned by the taint. She is made to immediately take her vows to prevent the taint from killing her.
•Age 0- Casría Miran is born in the Anderfels, Weisshaupt; Mother Anaphira became Grey Warden.*
•Age 0.5- Cas exhibited a little bit of magic while being rocked to sleep, parents had big argument about whether or not to send her to the Circle. Anaphira left Weisshaupt, and correspondence between her and Westir took place for about 3 years. Westir held on to the letters he received.
•Age 6- Cas began training in swordplay. Her magical skills were ignored in the hopes that she'd not notice she was a mage.
• Age 7- Cas was caught by her father talking to spirits in the woods surrounding Weisshaupt one night. This was a traumatic night for Cas, as she described it in her Background section.
• Age 10- Cas learns the 'truth' about her past from her parents.
• Age 11- Cas gets deathly ill, has a vision in the Fade. She's cured partially.
• Age 13- Cas' Mom starts having 'dreams'.
• Age 14- Cas' Mom passes away, leaves Cas her mother's necklace. Cas and her father take their 'vows'. They make plans to leave Weisshaupt with a few other families.
• Age 15- Cas and West settle on a tiny, uncharted island on Lake Calenhad, near Redcliffe.
• Age 16- Vandals burn Cas and West's cabin down. They survive. While gathering their remaining valuables, Cas comes across the letters from her mother. They are too out of context, and cryptic for her to truly grasp their meaning.

(*-Timeline)-(Let ((me)) clarify, so this doesn't seem like a plot hole... Italics are what happened before Cas was born. Plain text is what Cas experienced after she was born. Anaphira was tainted on her way to Weisshaupt from Antiva. Cas has no idea that she was tainted from birth, which would explain why she's so sensitive to demons, as well as other darkspawn. Her parents fabricated the story about Ana taking her vows (to exclude her brother) after Cas was born, for Cas's benefit and didn't tell it to her until she was at least 10 or 11. In other words, even though they raised a nice daughter, they are HORRIBLE PARENTS.)

[Araiia]

Grrrgh, sorry for the super procrastination. Hope I'm not too late..
I have always taken a minimalistic approach to character profiles,
but it now seems terribly inadequate compared to everyone else's.
I've left her recent history deliberately vague, it's up to you to decide
how she ends up in Ostagar or wherever the fanfic takes place.

Name: Kaelin
Race: Human
Sex: Female

Class: Mage (Hedge)
Primary spell trees: Primal/Spirit
Specialization: Force Mage/Shapeshifter

Age: 21
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 120#

Kaelin is a mage from the Free Marches. Born in a farming community quite some distance away from any major cities, her emerging magical abilities went undetected long enough that she was able to find a hedge mage willing to take her in and teach her to control her powers. She quickly developed a particular affinity for mind magics and the manipulation of nature. Her preferred shapeshifting form is an oversized raven. She uses this mostly for travel and observation, as opposed to fighting.

Personality: Living in relative isolation for most of her life, Kaelin is few of words and suspicious of most people. There are very few people around whom she is comfortable speaking freely. Her grasp on etiquette is tenuous at best, and easily marks her as an outsider. For this reason she prefers to remain silent to avoid drawing attention to herself.

Kaelin has never been in a "real" fight. There has been the occasional bear or wolf, but she has never before wielded her magic against a fellow human being. She is not a pacifist, but she sometimes worries how she will fare when the moment comes.

[Cress Sybellos]

Name: Richard
Age: 26
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 145lbs

Background: Well, I was born in Jader. That's in Orlais, if you didn't know. Just north of the Frostback Mountains, not too far from Ferelden? I grew up in a...I wouldn't call it nice, but it was a good enough home. For the first five or six years of my life, anyway. Then my little sister decided to blow her cover as a mage, and got both herself and my father taken away from us and sent to the Circle in Montsimmard.
And seeing as how Ma was an elf, it wasn't really smart to stick around, so she moved me and her back to the Alienage. She grew up there, but apparently it didn't occur to her that since my father was human, we (especially me) wouldn't really be welcomed with smiles and sunshine.
She did eventually marry another elf by the time I was ten, but we didn't really see eye-to-eye. He wasn't all that kind to me either, and when I was old enough to strike out on my own, I left.

For the longest time I didn't know what to do with myself, and at some point I decided it'd be a pretty good idea to lift things from passing travelers. It worked pretty well; after a few years I'd managed to get myself quite a bit of money, and I went back to Jader to try and convince Ma to take her kids (and there were a lot more of them than I thought there would be by the time I got back) and leave the Alienage.

Of course, at some point I must've let slip about how I'd stolen most of it, and the woman threw me out! That...was a shock. It wasn't like we hadn't stolen to survive before; I even made sure not to steal from elves! Maker's a**, she even told me to get out and to 'never darken her doorstep again'.
I'm not gonna lie. I was devastated. I haven't even been back in the city since that day...must've been years ago. I haven't been able to find anywhere to settle down either, but that suits me just fine. It's not like I really belong anywhere anyway. I don't look like an elf, but I don't feel human. Maybe I'll never find where I'm supposed to be.

Personality: I'm not nice. By no means am I nice. I look out for myself, and I don't take slights lightly. And apparently I'm a rash smartass, but that's just what I've been told. I'm not very good at making friends, either. Never have been.

Fighting Style: I use a sword and a dagger; quick striking with one hand and reach with the other. I'm not brilliant at fighting face-to-face, so really, I'd rather sneak up from behind or find a way to cripple a person before fighting them. I don't have the patience to poison my blades or set traps, though, unless it's something I've been planning for a while.

Other Notes: Occasionally slips Elvish into his speech. Has no issues with mages, and isn't religious.

[Skeet Draconis]

A drawing is great too, Janish. :3 As long as I get a good visual.


No problem Lady (xD Aeducan? lol, idk). Whenever you get the chance~

It's Christmas time, Faffy!

[Sage Winters]

Name: Dreâ Cousland
Sex: Female
Race:Human, Warrior/Grey Warden
Age: 22
Height: 5'6.5"
Weight:138
Mabari: Barkspawn

Background: I was born and raised in Highever in the Cousland Castle, a noble by blood. My mother tried her hardest to raise me as a lady but from the beginning I showed signs of being a great warrior. Growing up I had the luxury of practicing every day with a skilled trainer. By the age of 16 I was a seasoned warrior, better than most that bore my age. Not only did I learn to train with swords but I learned to properly care and train a Mabari. My parents boasted proudly about their daughter but their boast were short lived.

The summer I turned 20 a great man came to visit the castle. His name is Duncan; he is the Warden Commander of the Grey Wardens. He came looking for men and women to join the fight against the Blight. My father was already preparing his men to leave and aid the king, Cailan Theirin. Arl Rendon Howe had also paid us a visit. He brought us news that his troupes would be delayed. With that my father sent my brother and our men on without their back-up. That night I awoke to dreadful screams. Arl Howe's "late" men were attacking the castle.

I didn't have to fight my way through much before my mother had found me. It seems as though my father had been missing most of the night. My mother and I fought through the house as quickly as we could trying to find him. We made it to the main hall when we found out that my father had made for the servants' escape. When we entered into the larder he was badly wounded. Duncan had followed behind to explain the current situation. We didn't have much time before they broke through the last of our defenses. Duncan once again pleaded my father for assistance in the blight, this time asking that I become a Grey Warden. Knowing that my fathers fate was sealed and that one day I would be able to exact my revenge on Howe I agreed. When it came time to leave my mother would not come. She refused to let my father die a lone and with a heavy heart I ran. After that day I became a Grey Warden and have since been at Ostagar helping to prepare for what the king is calling "the final battle."

Personality: I'm a nice and well mannered girl for the most part. I seem a bit wiser than I should for someone my age, I think that has more to do with the death of my parents than anything. Most of my current habits and attitude base themselves around that sadness I felt and still feel for leaving my parents behind. The two things I retained from my life before that are my flirtatious ways and my ability to turn almost anything into sarcasm. I may seem wise sometimes but the truth is I am still a young adult and I occasionally act as such.

I use to give my trust easily but now I shield it well. I must get to know someone before I can put my trust in their hands. My family had to learn that the hard way and I will never let that happen again. Once I know I can trust someone I will trust them fully and expect them to trust in me as well, or at least try. I never break someones trust or a promise based on principle and life experience.

I never thought of myself as a religious person and after my parents death I never will but that doesn't stop me from praying to the Maker for the strength to allow my parents peace. They were religious and for that I feel I should occasionally honor that they tried their best to raise me the same.

I am not a very friend oriented person, which is funny considering that I was brought up in a friend and social oriented home. I do socialize, mainly because I hate talking to myself...people tend to find it odd; I just have a hard time making friends. I make up for it in my mind by immersing myself into books. I love books; I'll read any kind. I've come to know over the last year that all types of knowledge are useful in certain situations. The one big thing about me is that gaining my trust and respect is also gaining my friendship. As long as someone doesn't do something to mess that up it will be for life.

Method of fighting: I am a skilled warrior that prefers the two handed style to others. I am what they would call a Champion Warrior because of my skill and previous experience as a leader in my fathers army. I inspire the people I immerse myself into and with just a glare I can terrify my enemies.

Complete for now. Might edit in the future.

[Decadent Delirium]

Appearance:



Name: Viradechthis McNamarra (Veer-rah-deck-tis Mick-nah-marr-rah)
Age: 25
Height: 5'1"
Weight: 105 lbs.

Background:

My name is Viradechthis, though I would much prefer to be called Vir or Vira. My full name is a mouthful and honestly, I am sick of people mispronouncing it. I was born in the alienage in Denerim, eldest of three. My siblings and I live with our grandfather, Lenier. Such things happen after human scum decide to kill our parents. But that is another matter entirely. I have one brother and one sister. Teyrnon, my brother, is a few winters younger that I and I honestly do not know if he will make it to my age at all. He is hotheaded, with good reason, and does mock the humans whenever he can. I just wish he would learn the skills to back up his insults. It is tiring to see him bruised all the time. Noctil, my sister, is an apostate. We do not wish her to go to the Circle of Magi, and away from us. In alienages, families stick together because it is all we have. We do not wish to change this. It was a decision made by all of us. So we keep her hidden and smuggle her books so that she can learn to control herself.

Unlike my siblings, I have no talent for magic or for allowing myself to be beaten. I prefer to learn fighting. As I am an elf in an alienage, such things are near impossible. But we get visitors from time to time... people that need to hide as we do. They have taught me how to shoot a bow and more important, how deadly a knife can be. I made a vow that one day the humans would pay for how they treat my people. And they shall.

It was the Elder's and my Grandfather's wish that I was to be married. I cannot express how much this idea horrified me, though my protests went unheard. Or rather, ignored. As my husband-to-be was from a different alienage, it meant that I would have to leave my family defenseless. Still, regardless of how often Grandfather and I fought on the matter, the day came that I was to be married. My husband-to-be was there and waiting, and I was there... not being as polite to him as I should have been.

Of course, the ceremony never happened. A human lord and his disgusting friends decided that day would be the perfect day to try and have a party... taking our women for them. Whether we consented or not. He tried to take Noctil... and before she could call the heavens to smite them, I took matters into my own hands. I will be honest with you. I do not recall that day very much at all - a few insults to the fiancee and the next thing I know, my wedding clothes were stained with blood and there were several human scum dead at my feet. Good riddance.

Depending on how you see it, it was a good thing that the Elder's friend, Duncan of the Grey Wardens happened to be there that day. He... the word is "conscripted" and I suppose I volunteered to be a Grey Warden while I was at it. Perhaps. Regardless, that is now what I am. My home is no longer Denerim, but nor is it Ostagar, which is where I happen to be right now. Perhaps one day I'll find a place to call home again. Perhaps.

Personality:

Vira is a tad arrogant. She is prideful, and stubborn. She has a hatred for humans that runs deep. However, underneath the anger and the arrogance, she's actually a rather patient person. She prefers to listen rather than speak, and is very intelligent when it comes to strategies for battle. She is a loner, and her social skills are not the best, but she will always stand on the side of mages on behalf of her sister, and she is not above insulting any human that comes her way. She does not trust easily, but once her trust is won, it is hard to break.

Method of fighting:

Though I enjoy using a bow, I must admit, I have no patience for long range attacks. I prefer to be in the fray, with my knives... much quicker than swords could ever hope to be, especially as I am as good with my left hand as I am with my right.

[A c i d i c Sugar]

Seria,the Two-Spirit



Name: Seria
Place of Birth: Unknown alienage in a human city
Sex: Male
Race: Elf
Age: 24
Class: Rouge Archer; Assassin(?)
Height: 5" 5
Weight: 145lbs

Background: Seria's mother was a city elf who grew tired of the poverty stricken life she was living as a young elf in the slums. Her family had come from the Dalish, who sought to have a life closer to that of humans, and had moved into the city. Unfortunately, life did not turn out as they might have presumed it would, and life in the alienage was a hard, day-to-day struggle.

After her husband committed the great offense of leaving and joining the human society, Seria's mother decided to escape, in search of a life back in the wilds, where some semblance of freedom and self-worth hopefully awaited her. She'd always been charmed rather than put of by the tales of her Dalish brethren, keeping her opinions to herself since most viewed the elves as merely myth. She waited until the birth of her only child, and fled into wild.

She named her son Seria, after one of her ancestors who'd been of the first to flee the Dalish life. For a few days, life wasn't bad, but she quickly ran into trouble and found herself captured by a group of slave traders. Seria, pretty even in youth, was passed off as a girl so that 'she' could remain close to her mother. He was told plenty of extravagant tales of the Dalish by a broken mother who was losing faith in her own dreams. In no time he was clinging to a babbling shell that refused to utter more than vague names and faint elven phrases. Seria was bought out of slavery as a child by the Crows of Antiva.

Utterly at lost, he was easily molded into a proper assassin and taught a sense of pride in his skill and occupation that reawakened his quieter elven pride. Despite serving the Crows loyally for many years, Seria carried much bitterness over the way this life was introduced to him. He fantasized about a calmer, nomadic life, where he was free to live on his own without instruction or such a strict sense for politics. The Dalish life. He devised plans quietly, and one day fled after a mission to become lost in the forests in search of a tribe.

Eventually, after some time on his own, he came across a skirmish where an elf keeper was about to be slain in an ambush. Aiding the elf without hesitation, he fell into good favor with the Keeper upon returning her to her camp. His origins were brought into question, and finding himself relying on the errant names and past mumblings of his late mother, Seria managed to find distant relatives among the tribe. While still seen as somewhat of an outcast because of his city elf/slave roots (he did not reveal his past as an assassin to anyone but the Keeper over time), Seria is seen as an important part of his current tribe because of his eager loyalty to elves and his knowledge of humans.
Personality:
Seria is soft spoken for the most part, forever carrying some of the habits engrained into him by his mother to pretend to be a female. While his real gender was revealed after being bought by the crows, his 'guardians' saw this as useful, and encouraged this in his way of speech and body language. Seria is cunning and quite the silent type, preferring to only speak when spoken to--he might keep to himself for the most part, but it is only out of self preservation because of his past. He actually feels at ease and more willing to talk among his elf kin, and trusts them more easily than outsiders. He is street smart, rather than book smart, and thinks on his feet on a more tactical and instinctual level. He dislikes nonsense, or any sense of 'wasting time or effort', preferring actions to be efficient and prudent. As far as the socializing goes, Seria feels he's had few friends in his life time, being raised with a group as capable of killing him as they were of appreciating him. One of his lessons was on how to lie and interact with a target, able to hide behind a facade. Sometimes Seria slips into this habit without notice, and might fake a gesture or emotion for the sake of it being 'right' in a situation. Should he befriend someone, he needs a person capable of noticing this type of behavior and calling him out on it to make his voice known. He has a shallow view of his looks, thinking of his features as more of a cursed tool rather than something to take pride in. Part of his aversion to human contact (physical, for the most part) comes from the incident that is responsible for this: As a young budding assassin he was targeted by jealous peers and held down as the tips of his ears were shorn off, to knock back some of his 'elven pride'. He keeps his scarred ears hidden by his long hair. Disciplined on self control, the angrier or more defensive Seria gets, the quieter and stiller he gets, like the string of a bow taut and begging to be released.
Note: He has a preference for sleeping in the trees rather than in camp, thanks to his habits as an assassin--'staying out of plain sight'.

If he is religious, it lies with the Elven Pantheon--the elven god Dirthamen in particular, though he has yet to think himself worthy of receiving the blood writing to show this faith.
He believes heavily in the Vir Tanadahl, or Way of Three Trees.
Method of fighting:
Seria avoids close combat if he can help it, feeling no need to waste extra effort on getting in a nasty but swift kill with his dagger (that he keeps concealed in sheath at his back) if he can end it with a poisoned tip shot from his bow. He is a trained assassin however, and knows the skills of a rogue quite well. He doesn't like a mess and prefers quick and efficient strikes combined with agility and a wild grace that is sure to drop his enemy. In a pinch he'd rather use poison and scurry out of reach to let his tricks do the work for him.

[xvakarian]

Larien Telrunya ➳ Twenty ➳ Five feet; ninety-nine pounds ➳ Dalish Elf

PREHISTORY:

Much has occurred since the day Lyna Mahariel of the Dalish Elves left to join the order of the Grey Wardens. The departure of a fellow elf, allowed even by the Keeper of the Dalish Clan - it is not something Larien Telrunya can let outrun her comprehension. The Dalish hunted, feasted, moved and settled in unison. To leave the clan was to demand purposeful isolation, and Larien did not understand how such a concept could even be entertained by Marethari, the Keeper. Why would one even wish for such a nonsensical whim? Was it the influence of that shem who claimed to have relation to the fabled Grey Wardens? The one that claimed to have a concocted cure for this 'darkspawn corruption' that had tainted both Lyna and the missing Tamlen? Unheard of, Larien thought.

Her continuous questions only led to a surge of disputes gone awry - between Paivel, the clan storyteller, and Larien, specifically. She was none but a hunter for the clan, and an important one at that, but Paivel persisted that she left if she had held such undying interest in the Grey Warden order. Infuriated - she did. Ashalle, caretaker of Lyna, condoned Paivel's remark as an unintentional one, but the stubborn Dalish elf had her ears plugged. Marethari would not let her go the way she let Lyna go either. Larien stormed out of the camp, turning one last time to those who trailed after her, and told them to cease their chase, ending all ties with the phrase, 'dareth shiral'.

It was a bother to attempt to fit in with the rest of the idle world, as opposed to the Dalish, who never camped in one spot for too long. Once out of the Brecillian Forest, Larien had a startling realization - Thedas was a continent, vast and glorious, but amazingly easy to be lost in. Thanks to numerous traveling merchants, she was informed that the last they had seen of the Grey Wardens, they set camp at a place known as 'Ostagar'. After swearing to find Lyna Mahariel, there had been no time to waste - her hunger for the truth and answers grew stronger by the day.

Larien often wondered why she set off. Sometimes, she forgot. But when she remembered, she knew that the incident in the clan was an excuse to leave. Lyna Mahariel had free passage to freedom, while countless others did not - Larien herself included. Her role in the clan had been disregarded by many her whole life, because it was more often than not that she saw Marethari's orders as monotonous, inefficient and in no way beneficial. It was an opportune moment to pivot to her advantage. To finally do as she pleased without restrictions. Some may see this as foolish - but Larien could see clearly the line between foolishness and impeccable endowment. She was certainly no fool. Arrogant and stubborn, maybe, but no fool.

Her journey to Ostagar had so far had been safe, as wished by her clan members, but then.... (CONTINUED IN STORY)


PERSONALITY:
Larien Telrunya is an aggravatingly stubborn individual. In various situations, she is one to insist that her suggestion is the absolute best out of all - her plans are not impossible, but they often exceed all forms of credibility because they are farfetched and aggressive. However, she does not fear to know when to back down when defeated, or when she is outwitted.

Even if Larien thinks little of her Dalish Clan, she still maintains her utmost respect for its customs, traditions and origins. Any insults to the Dalish are countered by her angered voice or even a trained bow and arrow. It is not until later on when she slowly begins to accustom herself to the casual speech of humans as well as her companions, and the anger she usually sustains simmers down. This is when she begins to react, not with violence, but with witty remarks.


METHOD OF FIGHTING:
Larien Telrunya is a rogue archer. She always seems to have a longsword and a dagger mounted on her back, but it is never seen unsheathed for reasons untold. Even for her anti-passive nature, she prefers using longbows and crossbows. Using her bow is the only time Larien is seen as calm-headed.

Larien claims to only use her blades when she in in a dire situation, for example, tied in ropes, or when she has absolutely no choice. This is because she has no experience whatsoever in duel wielding or even one-handed dueling.


EXTRAS:
Larien seems to not warm up to any race too easily, but she does eventually. However, she immensely fears blood mages.

(( I would have done a TekTek, but Gaia has no pulled back, high ponytails. I am disappoint. ))

[xvakarian]

Bevan Feoras ➳ Twenty Seven ➳ Five foot eight; hundred fourty-eight pounds ➳ Human Berserker xxxx

PREHISTORY:
Bevan Feoras hails from Dwarven land, all the way from northwestern Ferelden - within the depths of the city of stone, Orzammar. Of course, upon simple inspection, absolutely anyone and everyone could conclude that he was not birthed by Dwarves - his true birthplace is in the renowned Vigil's Keep in Amaranthine. Bevan knew not of his biological parents, but the lone fact that he was born in Vigil's Keep implied that either his father was a Grey Warden, or his mother was one - or maybe even both, or none - perhaps they simply helped to set up the base of operations. Whatever led to his abandonment, he may not have known for all his life, but he definitely wished no ill will upon his parents. If they were Grey Wardens, they were righteous, and they most likely had a good reason. The Way of the Stone taught him, that sometimes, duty came before heart.

'Sometimes' was right - Bevan was not all focused on his destiny, nor his fate. If that were the case for everyone, the chances were that Bevan would have been left abandoned at Lake Calenhad's Docks and never found by his Dwarven guardian, Gorim, who happened upon the pitiable infant and took him in out of sympathy. That didn't last as long as it should have - Gorim soon decided that Bevan, who remained unnamed at the time, would have been better off in the hands of a more fortunate individual and a cloistered city - and there was no better place than Orzammar.

The Deshyr, nobles of the Assembly of Orzammar, did not welcome Bevan's arrival, as expected. They cast the Dwarven topsider away once, twice, even a third time, but Gorim refused to leave with a human child with his arms - making a living for just himself was already as hard as it already was, even in a bustling city such as Denerim. But even if Gorim wanted nothing to do with the child - his demands were ridiculous; he had wanted Bevan to be placed in a relatively wealthy commoner family, when he deserved only a dirt-poor family from Dust Town. Thankfully, the reigning King at the time, King Endrin, agreed to Gorim's terms only if the human born child was made to devote himself to the Stone, and perhaps, someday, become a Paragon. Such promises could not possibly be made - but ignorance was bliss, and so, Gorim heedlessly agreed. He was then given the name 'Bevan Feoras' by Endrin, under the Smith Caste. Janar Smith did not favour this decision, but either way, he was under strict orders to look after Bevan with utmost care.

At the age of ten, Bevan had a marking branded into the side of his face, as a reminder of his sworn duty to Orzammar. He wept for days after.

After a long seventeen years, he works comfortably as a novice smith and as an arms delivery boy for topsiders, occasionally departing from Orzammar to Denerim, meeting up with Gorim on the job. He had no bitter hatred toward the dwarf. Life was good: Janar grew to accept him, and soon after, Dagna Smith grew to accept him as a brother - not to mention the rest of Orzammar, who saw him as a notable figure. Of course, many still loathed the idea of him being human in a Dwarven community. He didn't particularly care.

PERSONALITY:
Bevan Feoras is a man who prioritizes good intentions over all else. He is one who carries a heart of gold, and is a stern believer of good deeds. A respectable man, charming on the side, he deserves no less recognition for all his admirable traits, as both a hard-worker and a caring and optimistic individual. He understands that duty takes the helm when it comes to importance, however, he does not apply it to himself.

On the other hand, Bevan rarely talks without a sarcastic tone to his voice, derived from his wit, that often aggravates people more than it lightens any mood.


METHOD OF FIGHTING:
Bevan Feoras learns the way of the Berserker from the citizens of his Dwarven Thaig. He is a one-handed swordsman that prefers the mace over all else, and carries a silverite shield of Dwarven make.

[Skeet Draconis]

Looking fantastic, everyone.

I'm pushing back the date for character recruiting, both to try and get new characters and to give time for the people that need to update theirs.

Also, you guys can feel free to toss out another character (or two), since I know that you've been dying to do so. Also feel free to include any NPCs. They don't have to be as detailed your other characters.

Get out of my way.

[Sage Winters]

OMG FUUUU~! THANK YOU. heart Skeet, you are the best.
I'll submit another character in a bit.

[aura]

In that case... I'll make one more character and a few NPCs for ya <3

Watch this space :'3



Status: WIP
Appearance:


Name: Rheonan _______
Place of Birth: Antiva City, Antiva
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Age: 33
Class: Rogue / Antivan Crow
Height: 6'5.5"
Weight: 196lb

Background:
Personality (a sketch):

Method of fighting:

Timeline (OOC):
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[Nyumonster]

Reserved(?)

((I'm working on the character and her story in my journal, and will edit this post when I'm finished~))