Arcane Uprising: Setting Sun 2.0 (Dragon Age Mage RP) [Open, Started. PM GM for info on joining.]

[Lizmichi]

[HEADING=1]Arcane Uprising: Setting Sun[/HEADING]​

The mages have had a long standing link with the fade, from the first mage Archon Thalsian, a Tevinter, to the bound mages of the Magi. Mages. After the Chantry becomes the predominant force in Thedas they banned the use of magic outside of Chantry control and fully outlawing blood magic. To ensure these measures the Chantry creates the Templars and employs the Rite of Tranquility, or removing the connection a mage has to the Fade, to force mages to obey the rule of the Maker. Soon after mages practicing magic outside of the Circle of Magi, or illegal magic, where branded illegal and became apostate and maleficar, creating clashes between illegal mages and the Chantry, even between Magi mages.

[Img_Inline Width="400" Align="right"]http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20090809032356/dragonage/images/thumb/b/b6/Morrigan_Concept_Art.jpg/300px-Morrigan_Concept_Art.jpg[/Img_Inline]


For years many mages have tried to break free of the Chantry, even going as far as to try and free the Magi mages but no revolt seems to bring much progress. Many apostates and maleficar are left feeling bitter and cold towards the Chantry and the Circle. Some even kill Templars and Chantry member for sport.

However, bigger issues are brewing in Thedas; in Ferelden the wounds are still fresh from the blight that ended six months ago. With the hero of Feralden, the Warden Commander, away in Coastland, Feralden is in need of help driving the remaining Darkspawn back underground. King Alistar called on Antivan Gray Warden Fen Arsan, former Crow and elf slave, to rebuild the Warden's numbers in Ferelden. With her new order fresh in her mind she recruits potential Wardens from all over the country, from the mages to Denerim. Fen at last found 8 candidates she'll put through the Joining.

Spoiler: GM Notes

As you may have guessed the RP will revolve around the mages but I'm taking more then just mages for the RP. I will be taking 8 RPers with one character each for the RPer. Also I don't want any current Wardens or Templars due to complications.
Also knowledge of the events of DR:O are a must with Awakenings and Dragon Age 2 as more a supplement.

Spoiler: Rules

1. No Godmoding
2. Little to no OOC.
3. You must fill out a Character Sheet and have it approved by me. Please try not to make a Mary Sue.
4. Post must be in detail. No one word or one sentence posts. I want a small paragraph.
5. Please comment on the current situation even if your character isn't directly involved.
6. Please use quotation marks with what your character is saying fallowed by asked, said, yelled and so on.
7. Post must be in third person.
8. No controlling others characters.
9. Use proper grammar. No lol or nvm or anything like that.
10. If you so wish you can have romances just don't go too far with it, meaning no RPed sex. Fade to black please.
11. Have fun. It's the reason you're here right.
Failure to follow any of these rules will result in a warning PM; continued rule breaking will result in me asking you to leave the RP.

Spoiler: Sheet

Name:(This is pretty obvious)

Age:(Again obvious.)

Gender: (Need I say what I want here?)

Race:(You can choose between human, elf, dwarf or Qunari.)

Class:(You can choose warrior, mage, and rogue.)
Specializations:(Optional but you can only pick one of the Dragon Age Specializations for now. THis is more for RP then combat. Warrior specializations [http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Warrior_(Origins)], Mage specializations [http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Mage_(Origins)], and Rogue specializations [http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Rogue_(Origins)]. )
Abilities:(List what your character is good at. Like cooking what magic do they use and so on.)
Weapons:(What do they use to protect them selves? You can use any kind of weapon your chosen class can use. I don't want what specific sword you pick just tell me it's a sword.)

Appearance:(Give me a good idea what they look like. You can give me a picture but I still want a worded description. Also I like bulk to sheets so the more you put into it the more I?ll like it.)

Personality:(Tell me who they are and what makes them tick. What they like and what they dislike. I want to know what they?re like to be around and how they treat others. Like before more detail is good.)

Bio:(What was there life like and what happened to them. Where they a slave, a mage that was part of the Magi? How did they meet my warden, Fen Arsan, and how did they catch the eye of my Gray Warden? Make a character that you think would be recruited into the Gray Wardens.)

 

[Lizmichi]

Spoiler: GM/Co GM Sheets

Spoiler: Fen Arsan (Lizmichi GM)

Name: Fen Arsan
Age: 29
Gender: Female
Race: Elf

Class: Rogue
Specializations: Assassination.
Abilities: She's skilled in close combat. She can stealth around and pick any lock. Any skill the a Crow learns, she has.
Weapons: A one handed sword in her main hand, a sword she had when she was a Crow, and a dagger that belonged to her mother in her off hand.

Appearance: Fen has long white hair with two loose braids on the right side. Her hair looks messy and gruff but it stops short of her shoulders as to not get in her way. Her face is narrow and well shaped with a well defined chin. Her eyes are a a deep amber color with a sharp almond shape. The tattoos on her face runs clear down to her right arm ending on the top of her hand.

She stands about 5 foot 7 but isn't the best built elf you'll ever see but she's fit enough to do her job and do it well. She's fitted in tattered leather armor that looks like it's seen better days. The leather chest armor is filled with pits and gashes from years of use with the occasional dark blood stain. Every other part of her armor is the same as the chest piece but worse off are her boots. Her boots are worn with the seams fraying with a look of being restitched over and over again.

Spoiler

Personality: Fen is serious at all times and takes her job just as seriously. She also takes saving lives as the biggest responsibility she has as a Gray Warden. She's doesn't care what race a person belongs to they have a right to live.

As part of being a Dalish elf she loves nature and treats it with respect. She becomes angered when she sees nature miss treated or when she sees slaves due to her past as one. She's driven by her duty as a Gray Warden and by her past a Crow to survive. She would take a life if it means she saves her own however.


Bio: Fen was born into a Dalish clan in Antiva. When she was 4, her and her mother where out gathering food for the clan when a group of slavers found them and captured both of them. All they left behind was bloody shreds of cloths making it looking they were attacked by an animal. They where dragged to the closest town where her mother was sold off as a slave to a noble.

Fen was forced to stay in a slave house for months until a member of the Crows came to the see if there were any slaves worth buying to train. He then met Fen, scares and bruises all over her body but anger in her eyes. He bought her and for years after then Fen was forced to train and push her self past her physical limit. When she was 15 she was sent out on her first kill, the same noble that bought her mother. She found the noble raping her mother and in the blind rage killed him and her mother at the same time.

She spent the last 3 years holding back her pain and quickly became a well respected Crow until once day a Gray Warden visited the Crows having heard of Fen's skills. They refused to let Fen leave forcing the Warden to Conscript Fen.

During her Joining she was the only one to survive out of the 3 that did the Joining. For 11 years Fen fought with the Gary Wardens of Antiva and ever braced for the Blight that was threatening Ferelden. Shortly after the Blight King Alistar called on Antiva for support in rebuilding the Ferelden Gary Wardens.

Spoiler: Cassandra (Cass) Darkwrath (Lizmichi GM)

Name: Cassandra (Cass) Darkwrath
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Class: Mage
Specializations: Blood Mage (Blood Magic)
Abilities: The darker side of magic is where she walks. She uses blood magic as well as powers given to her by her demon. She's not much of a hand to hand figther but get her in the back of a fight and she shines.
Weapons: A staff Cass altered after she left the Circle of Magi.

Spoiler

Appearance: Cass wears a red dress with a hood with black on the front. Her dress is white on the front with leather handing from her hips. She keeps her brown hair down and trinkits hang off her ears and clothes, and many rings on her fingers symbolize her life time as a mage. Her dress is very elegent despite her violent nature.

Spoiler

Personality: Cass is angry and distant to people she doesn't know. She's a loner and always stays away from cities and crowds. She fears being hurt so she pushes others away to keep it from happening.

She's been known for killing Chantry members, and followers of the Chant of Light, due to her deep seeded hatred for the Chantry. She lost count how many she killed when she started running from the Templars.

Bio: Cass was born in Lothering to a farming family. When she was 5 she showed the signs of being able to use magic and was sent away to the Circle soon after. While there they saw she had an aptitude for Arcane magic. When she was 6 she meet a mage by the name of Marcus, who was a year older then her. She grew very close to him and soon enough after they both took their Harrowing at 17 and 18 respectfully they were secretly dating.

Back then Cass didn't mind being part of the Circle rumors that Marcus was a Blood Mage stared making there way thoughout the Circle. Cass knew he wasn't a Blood Mage and, while yes he did see uses for it, he refused to use it. However, the First Enchanter thought other wise ordering both of them held for questions. Marcus and Cass were pulled out of the dinning area and forced to answer questions. However, the templars and the First Enchanter refused to believe he wasn't lying. In front of Cass the templars exacted a pleading Marcus sending Cass to her dorm in tears and a fit of rage.

That night Cass snapped and summoned a Pride Demon to add her, the price, Cass allowing him to share her body. The next morning she went to see the First Enchanter, at that point she let the demon take over her body and watched him kill any that got in her way; this including the templars and the First Enchanter, leaving mages alone. Once she broke out of the tower the demon was going to fully take over her body but realized that her powers and intelligence was too great to waste. So he opted to teach her Blood Magic and help her develop even darker powers then what the chantry would allow.

After that day she was near the point of going mad, killing any and all members of the Chantry that got in her way or any templar that hunter her. Many times the demon added her in battles but only when he felt her life as in danger. He saw Cass as a puppet, a way to see the world and slowly gain power but also saw what Cass could do as a mage.

For 10 years Cass wanders around Thedas learning as much as she could about magic and trying to find some way to find peace. As of late she been seeking a way to take down the Chantry and free her fellow mages. One day 5 templars were sent to kill Cass, she didn't stand much of a chance. Lucky Fen was near by and heard the sounds of fighting. As she watched Cass fight she became impressed with her skills and stopped the templars from killing her. Knowing the templars wouldn't let Cass go she Conscripted Cass. Unable to refuse a Gray Warden the tamplars only gave Fen a warning. "Don't trust her for she will kill you if she has to Gray Warden."

Spoiler: Knight-Lieutenant Cyrus Eldane (PrinceOfShapeir Co GM)

Name: Cyrus Eldane

Age: 34

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Class: Warrior

Specializations: Templar

Abilities: For much of his life, Cyrus has been trained as a warrior of the Chantry and a Templar of the Circle of Magi. As a result, Cyrus is a devastating threat on the battlefield, his blade smashing through armor, tearing flesh and ripping bone with every swing. He is particularly effective against enemy mages, as the lyrium coursing through his body, combined with the training in Templar Magic given to him by the Order grants him considerable power against them.

Besides that, Cyrus is extremely knowledgable regarding the Chantry and Circle in general, and is particularly knowledgable regarding the Chant of Light, which he has memorized.

Weapons: Cyrus wields a highly decorated and well-forged greatsword. The weapon measures 56 inches in length from tip to pommel, with ten of that taken up by hilt. The intersection between blade and hilt is bisected with a straight, thick crossguard that flares at either end, forming a formal I shape. A fuller goes along the middle of the blade.

Inscribed into the filler on one side of the blade is a passage from the Chant of Light, the Canticle of Transfigurations, Chapter One, Verse Two, "Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him. Foul and corrupt are they who have taken His gift and turned it against His children. They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones. They shall find no rest in this world or beyond." On the other is inscribed a passage from the Canticle of Benedictions, Chapter Four Verse Eleven, "Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood the Maker's will is written."

The blade is a masterpiece of steel, a well-made and well-cared for instrument of death, sharp enough to delicately carve meat while strong and sturdy enough to cleave bones. The hilt is polished oak, wrapped in leather, with silver inlay along the crossguard, although in places the silver has worn away to show the steel underneath. The pommel is a teardrop-shaped frame of steel, with a large piece of amber set snugly within. A mark on the crossguard reads - albeit in very small writing - "Crafted by Marcus Sendar for the glory of Andraste and the Maker."

At all times unless specified otherwise the sword is slung on Cyrus' back in a sheath of black leather.

For close quarters where his greatsword is an unsuitable weapon Cyrus also carries a mace. The weapon is a vicious, flanged weapon measuring roughly thirty inches in length, with the grip wrapped in black leather. It is held in a sheath on Cyrus' left side.

Appearance: Looking at Cyrus there is no question that he is a warrior. Thick, strong muscle cords his frame, and he stands at an impressive 6'2, weighing roughly 220 pounds, very little of that fat. Despite his fairly long career, few scars mark him, and the ones that do are fairly trivial.

Cyrus' face is weatherworn, with a weary look to him. He has the look of a man who's seen too much and knows he's going to be seeing a lot more before this is all through, a sort of resigned despair.

Purely aesthetically, Cyrus has black hair cut short and green eyes. Ten years ago, he was probably a jovial, happy looking man, but now the vitality seems to have bled away and left just focus and determination.

Often, Cyrus clings to the Chant of Light that he hangs from his belt, gripping the book like a tether to sanity. At other times, he'll be seen or heard to mutter phrases from it, most often from the Canticle of Trials or the Canticle of Benedictions. Most often, these occurrences take place late at night or in the small hours of the dawn.

Cyrus eschews bulky plate armor, preferring instead maille, covered with a black surcoat bearing the Templar coat of arms. He does wear plate gauntlets, boots, and a flat-topped greathelm. All his armor is bare steel, kept highly polished. While it has obviously seen heavy use with the number of stitchmarks on the surcoat and the deep gouges into many of the links, it is still in excellent condition.

Personality: Cyrus is not a happy man. He is, however, extremely focused and dedicated. Service to Andraste and the Maker has not just been his duty, it has been his entire existence for thirty years, and while his mind may have shifted from orthodoxy to some extent, his dedication and loyalty have not wavered an iota.

Cyrus seeks to be the epitome of the Templar. Not the Templar that Mages fear, the bogeyman that comes for them in the night, but the Templar the people look up to, the stalwart, shining defender in the darkness, the line of steel between Men and Monsters, between the kingdoms of Humanity and the Abominations that seek to subvert and destroy them. To that end, Cyrus endeavours to be honorable, compassionate, gracious, and valorous. Not that he always succeeds on all those points, but he at least tries.

For a Templar, Cyrus is something of a moderate. While he hates and fears Blood Magic as much as anyone, given that it was the device by which the Golden City was tainted and the Darkspawn created, his reaction to normal Magic is more of a guarded wariness. In Cyrus' eyes, Magic is much like a hammer. In one hand it can be used to build, in another to kill. It can be good or evil, the wielder is the object of concern. This is not to say that Cyrus disagrees with the practices of the Templar Order, only that he bears Mages no hatred, and in fact feels sympathy for them for the weight on their shoulders.

Bio: Born in Val Royeaux, Cyrus is the thirdborn son of Aurelian and Genevieve Eldane, prominent nobles within the Court with strong ties to the Chantry and traditionally gifting all third sons to the Chantry for service. In service of that tradition, Cyrus was given to the White Spire shortly after being weaned and was raised by Sisters in the service of Andraste before being again given over to the Templars at the age of five, when he began his training in earnest.

What followed was fifteen years of hardship, as Cyrus' body and mind were hardened for battle, for war, and for execution, training with sword and mace, with book and map, with cleaver and piglet. Shortly after his tenth birthday they began giving him doses of lyrium and teaching him the subtle Magic of the Templars.

At the end of his training, Cyrus had been crafted from a timid if pious boy into a stalwart warrior of the faith, ready, willing, and eager to spill the blood of heretics and apostates. And for years he would get that chance, questing out across Thedas to find those Mages who had fled from the Circle for whatever reason and capture or slay them.

Time and again, Cyrus battled these apostates. Each was different - some begged to be allowed to escape, others pleaded only for a quick death rather than face Tranquility, while most opted to fight even to the death. Few ever surrendered without testing his resolve or his skill at arms. But while he could not deny his pity for their plight, nor could he allow them to escape. Were they evil? No. But were they dangerous? Undoubtably.

Cyrus proved to be an invaluable asset to the White Spire for years, rising swiftly through the ranks until at the age of thirty-two and the rank of Knight-Lieutenant it was determined that it was time for him to find a new place. He was sent to Denerim, in Ferelden, where he became second in command of the Templars there. It was there that he met Shay, a mage preparing to take her Harrowing - at the age of twenty-four, it was the Harrowing or Tranquility, with no other options. Despite the barrier of them being Templar and Mage, a friendship was kindled that blossomed into romance.

When the time of her Harrowing came, Cyrus insisted upon being the Templar watching her, believing that his presence would help to strengthen her and buoy her spirit, and perhaps he was right, but it wasn't enough. Shays mind was overwhelmed and she became an Abomination, albeit only briefly. Cyrus' training was stronger than Cyrus' horror, and he drove his blade into Shay's heart.

While the aftermath of this incident showed that Cyrus and Shay had been involved in activity that was untoward to say the least, action was not taken against Cyrus. The garrison Knight-Captain, a friend of Cyrus', saw no need to further anguish the man by disciplinary action over a woman who was now dead, instead hoping that Cyrus would recover from his grief and return to being an exemplar of what the Templar can and should be.

That did not happen. Grief consumed Cyrus, rendering him barely capable of performing his functions, much less his usual dedication to the work. For a year, he did little more than what was required of him, slowly pulling himself back together, aided by the focus brought from battling the Blight that swept through Denerim that year. Soon after, the Grey Wardens began recruitment. Cyrus, desperate to get away from the Chantry that seemed haunted with Shay's ghost made overtures to the Wardens and joined them.

 

[Lizmichi]

Spoiler: Nemin Jaluk (ultrachicken)

Name: Nemin Jaluk

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Race: Dwarf

Class: Warrior

Specializations: Guardian

Abilities: Nemin has great physical endurance and a remarkable tendency to turn even the foulest of ingredients into edible, and sometimes enjoyable, meals.

Weapons: You?ll never catch Nemin without his trusty shield; a truly ugly heap of haphazardly constructed metal, but it?s never failed him yet. Beyond that, he?ll take anything he can swing with one hand.

Appearance: Nemin is short, even by dwarf standards, but maintains the typical stocky build. For hazardous situations, he dons a set of chain-link armor, something to let him take a blow or two while maintaining agility. Off the battlefield, he dresses warm, even in the presence of Orzammar?s lava streams. He tends towards thick cloaks and dirty linen clothing underneath. He braids his thick red beard with great care, and keeps the hair on his head short.

Personality: This is a highly insecure and troubled dwarf, but you?ll never catch him complaining, nor do petty insults breach his psyche. He is not one to take the initiative, preferring to follow rather than to lead, as he would never trust himself enough to make the right call when others? well being is on the line. He follows whatever authority is directly in front of him, but when he?s left to his own devices he has no qualms about contradicting a distant authority?s wishes, and his concept of morality is quite loose. Though Nemin is generally quite passive, he is very protective of what little he owns, often becoming paranoid towards anyone close to him where his possessions are concerned. Despite this, he maintains a jovial and friendly exterior with those around him, though he keeps his speech short and terse.

Bio: Nemin was born to a noble mother, but her father was casteless, and so was he. His mother?s house refused to allow her to remain home unless she rejected her child, and faced with the prospect of losing her wealth, she buckled under pressure, and gave Nemin to his father before abandoning them. Nemin?s father was a thug in the new carta, but a well-respected one, and he did his best to ensure that his son would inherit his good standing. However, the carta didn?t have quite the same influence as it used to, and when his father was hacked to pieces by the guards, he was alone on the harsh streets of Dust Town at the age of ten with only the carta to guide him. As is to be expected, the criminals had no idea how to raise a child, nor did they particularly care to. Nemin was forced to steal and serve as a pack mule for the carta, and in return was provided food, at the cost of the occasional bruising, delivered either by his marks or his handlers. When he reached thirteen, he began working as hired muscle, but due to his young age he was largely incapable of performing his tasks. The carta humored him by sending him to murder people whom they desired, and laughed uncontrollably when Nemin returned with broken bones. He continued along this path for several years, until he was betrayed.

The Dwarven leadership had been pushing the guards to start cracking down hard on the carta, so the dust town dwarves began offering what amounted to sacrificial lambs in order to keep the guards complacent. Because Nemin had never offered any real use to the carta, he was deemed an acceptable sacrifice, and so Nemin found himself thrown into the Dwarven dungeons by the same people who had looked after his family for generations.

He channeled his frustration into finding a way to escape and maintaining physical fitness. He discovered from some other prisoners that there was an abandoned tunnel leading to the Deep Roads, sealed off with the warden's key. He knew that the warden was sadistic and took great pride in having orderly prisoners, and he intended to exploit this. He taunted and challenged the guards at every opportunity, receiving brutal beatings in the process. Nemin continued with his plan through the pain, and just as his endurance began to wane after days of constant injury, the warden paid him a personal visit. When the warden swung his mace, Nemin caught his wrist and flung him to the ground. He tore the helmet off the warden's head and brained him with it, and used the mace to make quick work of the guards that had accompanied the warden. He found his trusty shield in a heap with all the other prisoner's belongings that couldn't be sold or were undesirable to the guards, looted the armor off a dead guard, then vanished down the passage, leaving his fellow prisoners behind in his haste.

The Blight had left the Deep Roads sparsely populated with Darkspawn, but without food, water or proper shelter, he was doomed to die in a matter of days, at best. He shambled onward down the carved tunnels, smashing the occasional Darkspawn to a fine paste, but as time went on his feet dragged, his eyes lulled, and his arms grew heavy. When he finally stumbled upon the Legion of the Dead, he had never been happier. The commander of this particular group was a woman named Reah, who offered to conscript him. He accepted, as he couldn't return to Orzammar after what he'd done. Dust Town wouldn't accept him anymore, and that meant he had nowhere to go.

Nemin began his career as a meatshield, but through luck was able to survive long enough for experience and some of Reah's teachings to sink in. The life of constant warfare molded him into a warrior of great skill, and though he had no mind for tactics, his shield wall grew increasingly critical to Reah's plans as he grew in power. Although they all admired him greatly, Nemin's fellow Dwarves refused to acknowledge his combat prowess, due in part to the stoic nature of a typical Legion conscript and to Nemin's inability to mesh with the group socially. However, Reah showed a soft spot for Nemin, and the two grew close, though merely platonically. He fought the Darkspawn for years, until the Grey Warden visited. Fen Arsan hoped to find suitable candidates for her order in the Legion of the Dead because of their vast experience fighting Darkspawn. She joined the Dwarves for an assault on a Darkspawn stronghold so she could see firsthand who stood above the rest.

The attack was a complete disaster. As the Dwarves charged, a group of Darkspawn archers snuck up on their flank and pelted them with arrows, slaying at least a third of the Legion's warriors. With their forces in complete disarray, they were no match for the troops advancing on their position. Many more died, including Reah, who was unceremoniously torn to shreds by an Ogre before being tossed aside. Fen led the Legion's remaining warriors to a narrow bridge and told them to flee, intending to hold off the Darkspawn at that choke point on her own. Nemin joined the Warden. Together, the two slaughtered any Darkspawn that dared approach. In truth, part of Nemin wanted to die then, but fortune was not so kind. By the time the archers arrived, the Legion had retreated to a safe distance, and so the two fled.

Nemin had never had any real kinship with the Legion of the Dead except for Reah, and now that she was gone, he had no reason to refuse when Fen Asran invited him into the Grey Wardens.

Spoiler: Valerian (blaze96)

Name: Valerian

Age: 40

Gender: Male

Race: Elf

Class: Mage

Specialization: Battlemage

Abilities: As a mage he uses elemental spells but has focused largely in fire spells, using his power to aid allies while damaging enemies. He also chose it for its general usefulness and significance to the chantry. He also has extensive knowledge in both the arcane and religious due to his background in both. As a trained Battlemage he does have the ability to use those spells as well.

Weapons: He uses a staff made of metal shaped into what boils down into a somewhat ornate club. Being on the frontline he choose solid metal in order to actually be useful when he isn't casting on the frontline.

Appearance: He is a thin man at a height just under the average for a human male, making him somewhat tall for an elf of the area. He has light red hair with blue eyes and his pointed ears very much out him as an elf. He wears no tattoos but does have a few facial scars from the time he has been in battle. One runs from just over his right eye to below it, another runs across his left cheek, and his last is diagonal starting above one lip and ending below the other.

His robes are the standard fair one would find on a mage of the circle of some status. While not a first enchanter they are not those of an apprentice either.

Personality: Valerian is well mannered and generally amicable to those around him. He will become friends with almost anyone possible, the only exceptions being those who would wish to destroy the chantry and or blood mages. The man takes the teachings of the circle and chantry very seriously but realizes not all will follow the same path as him, and is accepting of that fact, so long as their way does not try to destroy that which he cherishes.

He gets along well with templars and has a deep caring for both the chantry and the circle, and would be willing to do what it takes to make sure that the relationship is as undisturbed as possible. To him the mages who complain of oppression do not realize the danger that mages represent, a danger that many other mages, the Templar Order, and Andraste herself recognized. To him the Templers are not a necessary evil, but instead a way of ensuring that not only the world but the mages temselves are protected from the dangers of possession by demons.

If the chantry would allow it he would become a brother, and while he is not an official member, his advocation for Elves to convert to the maker as well as his numerous works for the chantry have gained him some positive regard.

Bio: Valerian had been an orphan in the alienage of Denerim for as long as he could remember, a status which is largely unremarkable due to the poverty in which the alienage exists. He had survived as best he could but the fellow elves had not made it that much nicer. He was not part of a tight knit community as others might have been, the world in which he lived was rather dog eat dog and while they claimed to wish to stick to old traditions, for a long time he associated elven society and religion with hardship, hunger, and poor treatment. When his magical abilities showed themselves at first he merely used them to try and get food to eat, but that soon ended up with him in the hands of the town guard and handed over to the circle.

The unknown first caused fear in him as he was sent to the circle in Lake Calenhad, but once he arrived he quickly learned to love his new surroundings. The circle was safe, he actually had a bed to sleep in, and he could get food without needing to resort to begging or stealing. It also gave him a true sense of community as he found his teachers and many of his fellow mages accepted him. Eventually he also learned that while the Templars could be gruff, and some of them downright nasty, they generally were nice or okay people who were trying to simply make sure the mages didn't get out of hand. He heard many mages complain about the life in the circle, and to him it was only complaints. As he learned the teachings of the chant of light, the dangers of magic, and how it was the chantry that had set up the system that had given him so much, he grew to love the chantry.

Life may not have been easy in the circle, but it was better than what he had been enduring before. For that he was ever thankful for the opportunity he was given.

In learning magic Valerian learned he had a special affection and skill for the arts regarding fire. As a child it had been his ally many times, saving him from death during more than a few winters in Denerim. When he reflects on it he thinks that the significance of fire to both him and the chantry may have been a point of commonality that influenced his acceptance of the religion. However it ultimately mattered little what had lead him to his acceptance, merely that he had and he was happy.

After taking the trial and passing he continued his studies but also looked to work with the chantry whenever possible. Whenever a request came for a mage to aid in one thing or another Valerian always volunteered to go, and would often help the Templers of the circle in the ways he could. In fact some of his closest friends at the circle were not magi but Templers. He had not been chosen to fight in the war but instead was one of those in the circle when many of the mages had been taken over by demons and the circle nearly annulled.

He had fought his way to the safety of the Templers and their barrier at the front gates, and after having seen and fought those abominations he now fully understood just how important the Templers truly were. He lost many friends that day on all sides, because there was not enough care taken with magic he had lost his home yet again. In fact had the Templers annulled the circle, he would have frankly supported the decision even if would have meant his death. What he had seen could not be allowed to escape into the world. Ultimately though that was not the case thanks to the Warden commander and his group, instead of losing his life he was saved and only had his three new scars from having to fight for his life. When the time came to fight back he volunteered and did all that the circle, his home, asked of him. He had played a role in the fight at Denerim, but so had many others and he didn't care to bring it up.

With his experiences he feels that, given the chance, there are three organizations he would give his time and even life for. The chantry and circle for saving his life all those years ago and giving him a chance at a new one, and the Wardens for saving his home and life on the second occasion. To this day he still pushes to be allowed as a brother in the chantry, and even if he never gets accepted he will still praise the Maker until his dying breath for all he had given Valerian.

Name: Nyanthe Eorith
Age: 47
Gender: Female
Race: Elf
Class: Mage
Specializations: Battlemage

Abilities: Nyanthe's magic is mainly focused on primal spells, and she is skilled with all four of the elements, but prefers to use cold spells which has made her slightly better with that one. She has been a part of the circle for most of her life and is a specialized battlemage, which means she knows the spells befitting of a battlemage as well. She enjoys being in the heart of a battle, contrary to the mages who would rather cast spells from a safe distance.

She is not very skilled at anything else than the use of magic. On the contrary, she is actually pretty bad at most other things, as the only purpose she thinks she has in life is to become a powerful mage.

Weapons: An enchanted wooden staff, that increases her spellpower and cold damage.

Appearance: Nyanthe is a 185 cm tall elf, who weighs 60 kg. She has a curvy hourglass body and a few wrinkles, serving as proof that she is no longer a young elven woman. Her skin is slightly tanned. Her eyes has a light blue color and her face is not particularly pretty compared to other elves, rather she looks wise and a few years older than she is.

She has dark blonde hair, reaching down to her shoulders and it's never longer or shorter than that, for years she's had the same hairstyle. Around her neck hangs an amulet in the form of a tooth of a beast, and her ears are pierced, with different piercings in them depending on what she feels like wearing. Often it's accessories of elfish origin.

Her robe is of a brownish green, long, and covers most of her body. The torso and shoulders has been reinforced with leather, to give her better protection in battle. It's gotten torn over time and she doesn't know how to sew herself, so unless it's a large hole, it's unlikely that it gets fixed.

Her staff looks fairly simple, but she's had it enchanted to fit her own abilities.

Personality: Nyanthe is clumsy and unlucky, except when it comes to magic, which is the one skill she is great at. She very rarely fails with one of her spells, but if she were to cook a meal, she might end up setting fire to something. She is a bookworm and the kind of girl who would trip while carrying a pile of books, only to have everyone else walk past her, instead of helping. The few friends she has enjoys her company, but even they have it hard understanding how the simplest of chores can be a challenge to her.

She is a bit socially awkward when she's around new people and can sometimes be heard muttering unintelligible words, which is usually her swearing. The few individuals who became romantically interested in her, gave up pretty soon, as they found her hard to get along with. She doesn't really like or dislike others, and treats everyone with the same odd behaviour. It's just who she is.

Nyanthe is very interested in magic, its history and different uses. She likes coming up with new ways of using her own primal spells, and is usually seen practicing some kind of new trick or trying to get better in any way she can. In battle, she is fully focused and truly a force of nature. She feels much more motivated when she can unleash her powers, than when she has to do boring chores or meaningless tasks.

The templar order and templars are probably the only thing she hates. Even the darkspawn is more fun, as she gets to use her magic on them. She doesn't like how they watch over mages and hunts mages who aren't part of the circle down. Nyanthe would prefer to go wild every now and then with her powers, or to be allowed to do as she please, but the templars feels like a constant threat to her.


Bio: Nyanthe was born towards the end of the blessed age, in the alienage in Denerim. It was a poor and dirty existence for her and her family, where they did not always have enough coin for food. Starvation and diseases killed other elves in the alienage and unfortunately her family was not much luckier. Nyanthe lost a younger brother when she was five, and her mother had a hard time dealing with it.

It was just a few months later that Nyanthe started showing signs of magical ability. It scared her parents, as they didn't want their daughter to be taken away or worse. They tried to think of a way of protecting her or get her safely out of the city, but even if they did where would they go? They were city elves and would probably not be welcomed among the dalish, if they could even find them.

The choice was soon taken out of their hands, as Nyanthe froze a man's hand when shaking it. The cityguards found out about it and dragged Nyanthe off to the closest mage they knew about, taking her to the templar wasn't something they wanted to do, as she was only a little girl. They feared what they might do to her.

Nyanthe didn't cry when she was taken away from her home, even if her mother certainly did, instead she felt excitement and curiosity rushing through her. She didn't want to spend her entire life in the alienage anyway. The stories about heros and heroines had appealed to her, and now she felt that she could become someone great as well.

She was taken to the circle tower on the island in Lake Calenhad, accompanied by an older mage, who was already part of the circle. He told her that everything was going to be fine and she simply nodded in response for most of the journey.

The following years she spent training in the tower, under different teachers. She was always eager to attend classes and learn more, combined with her apparent power, it made her a promising young mage. She found a lot of the different spells interesting, but remembered that the first one she had used was a cold spell, which made her think that she would become the strongest she could if she focused on primal spells.

When she was seventeen she was tasked with undertaking the harrowing. She entered the fade through the use of lyrium, where she got to face a desire demon. It tried to seduce her and make her subdue to its will, and while she felt flattered for some reason, likely the effect of the demon, she didn't say a single word to the demon, before throwing an ice cone in its face. It wasn't that easy to win, and they did end up fighting in the fade, but eventually Nyanthe emerged victorious. It was a tear-filled reunion.

She was now a mage and the dragon age had just begun. The dragons was both a source of fear and interest to her. One of the first trips she made outside the tower was back to the alienage to visit her family, which she hadn't seen since she was dragged off to the tower.

The next ten years she spent in the tower, mostly studying on her own, but sometimes she would venture out into the world, to get real battle experience. These trips usually meant she'd travel somewhere, where rumors about demons came from, to face these opponents and kill them. She'd never travel or fight alone though, as it was safer to have at least one experienced warrior with her.

Towards the end of her thirties, she began teaching in the field of primal magic and she was now the rank of enchanter. The next ten years began pretty calmly for her, but became one of the most turbulent periods in her life, with the increase of darkspawn and a new archdemon. She fought the blight many times, and saw other mages fall in battle, but survived herself.

She was one of the few circle mages at the battle of Denerim. Nyanthe held her ground for a while, but was eventually struck down. The ones who found her nurtured her back to health, before she left to head back to the circle tower. Quite a few mages had died fighting the blight, before it ended and Nyanthe had been assumed to be among the dead, until she returned a couple of weeks later.

King Alistair asked the circle if they could spare any mages to become grey wardens, and they didn't really want to, knowing how many died during the joining, but Nyanthe volunteered. It was a shame, as they could still have a use for her, but perhaps it was better than sending someone who didn't want to.

Spoiler: Berven Halten (CrazyBlaze)

Name: Berven Halten

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Race: Elf

Class: Mage

Specialization: N/A

Abilities: Berven is proficient in primal fire knowing Flame Blast, Fire Weapons and Fireball. He also has some knowledge of Glyphs, mainly glyphs of Paralysis and Glyph of Warding. In addition he knows Arcane Bolt and Arcane Shield. He knows basic cooking but it is rarely used. He is an extremely dedicated reader, often reading through a book in a night, depending on how long it is.

Weapons: An oak staff that he received in the Circle.

Spoiler

Appearance: Berven has long white hair that he keeps dreadlocked to keep it out of his face. Like all elves he has pointed ears and a pointed chin, along with slanted green eyes. His body is free of tattoos but his face is partly burnt around his left eye. He is about average height standing at 5?11. He wears basic blue robes that are lose and flowing, hiding his body. Berven is skinny despite a relatively inactive lifestyle. His elven heritage helps keep his body lean and a little bit in shape. He won?t be running any marathons anytime soon but he can keep pace. Around his neck there is a simple silver chain that he was given by someone shortly before he was taken away to the Circle.

Personality: Berven is an elf of few words. He stands to the sidelines and tries to blend in most of the time. He is uncomfortable being the center of any attention and will often deflect any attention he gets onto someone else. He answers question as quickly as possible and when eating with a community will sit off to the side by himself.

Despite his anti-socialism, Berven is interested in what is going on in the world outside the Circle. He doesn?t wish to participate in greater events but he does wish to observe them and record them. Berven also enjoys researching and often when he doesn?t have his nose in a book he will be recording his findings and the events of the Outside to help preserve history.

Berven is also prone to fidgeting and playing with his sleeves when he is not doing anything. He also likes to bite his lip when reading and he has a tendency of sticking his tongue out when concentrating.

When it comes to fighting Berven would rather things be solved with the least amount of violence but he isn?t so naïve as to believe that everything can be solved that way and is willing to take a stand if he needs to.

Berven is also stubborn. If confronted with a problem he will work and work and work
until he final solves it and once he is set on a specific course he will not abandoned it until he finishes it.

Bio: Berven was born in Nevarra City in the alienage there with only his Mother, his Father wanting nothing to do with him. When he was five his mother gave him a box with a silver necklace in it, an heirloom of their family. When he was six he displayed magic in front of a group of Templars. Berven?s Mother tried to protect him but eventually the Templars got tired of trying to convince her to move, grabbed her and took her out back. Hours later Berven?s mother staggered back to the house, bloody and bruised. She quickly threw a couple of things into a bag for Berven and threw him out the door to the Templars. He never saw her again.

Once at the Circle in Nevarra City, Berven threw himself into the written part of his learning to forget about his Mother. He exceled in the Library and spent more time there than anywhere else, even sleeping there more often than his room. When he was 17 he underwent his Harrowing. His thirst for knowledge led him to face a Hunger Demon with promises for greater and greater knowledge. Berven almost succumbed but at the least minute he let lose a fireball and drove the Demon away.

Now granted even greater access to the Library, Berven once again threw himself into the books, reading through the histories of Thedas. In 9:27 Dragon a rebellion occurred in in the Nevarra Circle. A sect of Blood Mages appeared and attempted to take over the tower. However one had succeeded in killing the First Enchanter. The surviving mages banded together and along with a group of Templars attacked the Blood Mage who had killed and the First Enchanter and the demons she had summoned. Berven fought as well and it was during this battle that an attack from a Rage demon that his face was burnt. In the final push the mages and the Templars broke through the Blood Mage?s defenses and Berven stroke her down with a lucky Arcane Bolt.

Berven was hailed as a hero for delivering the killing blow and some of the mages started to look up to him as the Savior of the Nevarra Circle. Uncomfortable with all this attention he tried to find quiet spots in the Tower but was constantly followed by admirers, despite his numerous protests that he just got lucky and there was no way he could have won by himself.

Finally feed up with all this attention he requested a transfer to the Circle of magi in Montsimmard in Orlais. After the incident at the Tower in Ferelden at Lake Calenhad Berven went there to help clean up the mess and restore the Library.

 

[Dr. wonderful]

I've been waiting for an RP like this for years.

Hope I can get a sheet up soon.

 

[Ruedyn]

Spoiler: Lonir

Name: Lonir

Age: 21

Gender: male

Race: Elf

Class: Magi
Specializations: Shape Shifter
Abilities: Although he doesn't like to admit it, he is gifted with Entropy spells. Other than that, he is inept with Primal, but makes up for it with his Spirit and Creation.
Weapons: What appears to be an old, slightly burned stick. In truth, it is his staff. Though he uses it like an old, slightly burned stick that is good at smacking people in the face.

Appearance: He is tall, for an elf, and wiry, as befits an elf, standing at around 5'3 feet tall, with long black hair worn in a ponytail when in public, and with green eyes. His Dalish tattoo resembles vines, running from his chin to his temple.

Spoiler: Like this, but with the tattoo

He tends to stick with his old Keeper robes, an olive green robe with a cyan belt, with crow feather spaulders, though quite unique around his peers the sleeves actually remain.

Personality: Despite the name, he likes people, and is quite the optimist. He is a bit naive like most Dalish when in city like areas. He tends to not use the elvish language, but is quite familiar with it if he needs to use it. He is quite fond of pranks, though always harmless, like using grease on crowded areas or transforming into a spider mid-conversation. He is quite proud of his magic, and exploits it whenever he is able. When he believes he is all alone, he summons his pet, 'Wispy', a wisp that he complains to.

Bio:He was born with the Dalish, and was trained to hunt at a young age. He was crap at it. Fortunately, his powers started manifesting themselves early on, so he could stop humiliating himself.

He was trained as a Keeper, and was quite acceptable. He was quite skilled with Shape Shifting in particular, though his Entropy skill drew more attention. Many thought he was related to Dirthamen, god of horror. Still, he stuck with his small, traveling, murderous family for as long as he could stomach having to recite old, mostly forgotten stories, the ritualistic bullying, and wiping with a leaf, but after awhile, enough is enough. He traveled to the City of Denerim, with only one goodbye, to his fellow disciple. She wished him the best of luck, so off he went.

He was Quickly thrown into an alienage. He would've been in the circle right away if he had struggled with capture, but he didn't. He WAS thrown in after turning into a bear in the middle of a wedding, but that is a different story.

His life in the Circle was FAR more fun than his other homes. People found him interesting, but didn't annoy him all the time, and he was allowed to use his magic (the library floors might be stained with grease till the end of time). So far, he has managed to annoy the Templars, but has done nothing to get him outright executed, as he never goes near the Chantry, so they were almost too quick to hand him over to the Wardens. Still, he was fine with another change in his life, provided it wasn't boring.

EDIT: I think I'm done now.

 

[ultrachicken]

Spoiler: Nemin Jaluk

Name: Nemin Jaluk

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Race: Dwarf

Class: Warrior

Specializations: Guardian

Abilities: Nemin has great physical endurance and a remarkable tendency to turn even the foulest of ingredients into edible, and sometimes enjoyable, meals.

Weapons: You?ll never catch Nemin without his trusty shield; a truly ugly heap of haphazardly constructed metal, but it?s never failed him yet. Beyond that, he?ll take anything he can swing with one hand.

Appearance: Nemin is short, even by dwarf standards, but maintains the typical stocky build. For hazardous situations, he dons a set of chain-link armor, something to let him take a blow or two while maintaining agility. Off the battlefield, he dresses warm, even in the presence of Orzammar?s lava streams. He tends towards thick cloaks and dirty linen clothing underneath. He braids his thick red beard with great care, and keeps the hair on his head short.

Personality: This is a highly insecure and troubled dwarf, but you?ll never catch him complaining, nor do petty insults breach his psyche. He is not one to take the initiative, preferring to follow rather than to lead, as he would never trust himself enough to make the right call when others? well being is on the line. He follows whatever authority is directly in front of him, but when he?s left to his own devices he has no qualms about contradicting a distant authority?s wishes, and his concept of morality is quite loose. Though Nemin is generally quite passive, he is very protective of what little he owns, often becoming paranoid towards anyone close to him where his possessions are concerned. Despite this, he maintains a jovial and friendly exterior with those around him, though he keeps his speech short and terse.

Bio: Nemin was born to a noble mother, but her father was casteless, and so was he. His mother?s house refused to allow her to remain home unless she rejected her child, and faced with the prospect of losing her wealth, she buckled under pressure, and gave Nemin to his father before abandoning them. Nemin?s father was a thug in the new carta, but a well-respected one, and he did his best to ensure that his son would inherit his good standing. However, the carta didn?t have quite the same influence as it used to, and when his father was hacked to pieces by the guards, he was alone on the harsh streets of Dust Town at the age of ten with only the carta to guide him. As is to be expected, the criminals had no idea how to raise a child, nor did they particularly care to. Nemin was forced to steal and serve as a pack mule for the carta, and in return was provided food, at the cost of the occasional bruising, delivered either by his marks or his handlers. When he reached thirteen, he began working as hired muscle, but due to his young age he was largely incapable of performing his tasks. The carta humored him by sending him to murder people whom they desired, and laughed uncontrollably when Nemin returned with broken bones. He continued along this path for several years, until he was betrayed.

The Dwarven leadership had been pushing the guards to start cracking down hard on the carta, so the dust town dwarves began offering what amounted to sacrificial lambs in order to keep the guards complacent. Because Nemin had never offered any real use to the carta, he was deemed an acceptable sacrifice, and so Nemin found himself thrown into the Dwarven dungeons by the same people who had looked after his family for generations.

He channeled his frustration into finding a way to escape and maintaining physical fitness. He discovered from some other prisoners that there was an abandoned tunnel leading to the Deep Roads, sealed off with the warden's key. He knew that the warden was sadistic and took great pride in having orderly prisoners, and he intended to exploit this. He taunted and challenged the guards at every opportunity, receiving brutal beatings in the process. Nemin continued with his plan through the pain, and just as his endurance began to wane after days of constant injury, the warden paid him a personal visit. When the warden swung his mace, Nemin caught his wrist and flung him to the ground. He tore the helmet off the warden's head and brained him with it, and used the mace to make quick work of the guards that had accompanied the warden. He found his trusty shield in a heap with all the other prisoner's belongings that couldn't be sold or were undesirable to the guards, looted the armor off a dead guard, then vanished down the passage, leaving his fellow prisoners behind in his haste.

The Blight had left the Deep Roads sparsely populated with Darkspawn, but without food, water or proper shelter, he was doomed to die in a matter of days, at best. He shambled onward down the carved tunnels, smashing the occasional Darkspawn to a fine paste, but as time went on his feet dragged, his eyes lulled, and his arms grew heavy. When he finally stumbled upon the Legion of the Dead, he had never been happier. The commander of this particular group was a woman named Reah, who offered to conscript him. He accepted, as he couldn't return to Orzammar after what he'd done. Dust Town wouldn't accept him anymore, and that meant he had nowhere to go.

Nemin began his career as a meatshield, but through luck was able to survive long enough for experience and some of Reah's teachings to sink in. The life of constant warfare molded him into a warrior of great skill, and though he had no mind for tactics, his shield wall grew increasingly critical to Reah's plans as he grew in power. Although they all admired him greatly, Nemin's fellow Dwarves refused to acknowledge his combat prowess, due in part to the stoic nature of a typical Legion conscript and to Nemin's inability to mesh with the group socially. However, Reah showed a soft spot for Nemin, and the two grew close, though merely platonically. He fought the Darkspawn for years, until the Grey Warden visited. Fen Arsan hoped to find suitable candidates for her order in the Legion of the Dead because of their vast experience fighting Darkspawn. She joined the Dwarves for an assault on a Darkspawn stronghold so she could see firsthand who stood above the rest.

The attack was a complete disaster. As the Dwarves charged, a group of Darkspawn archers snuck up on their flank and pelted them with arrows, slaying at least a third of the Legion's warriors. With their forces in complete disarray, they were no match for the troops advancing on their position. Many more died, including Reah, who was unceremoniously torn to shreds by an Ogre before being tossed aside. Fen led the Legion's remaining warriors to a narrow bridge and told them to flee, intending to hold off the Darkspawn at that choke point on her own. Nemin joined the Warden. Together, the two slaughtered any Darkspawn that dared approach. In truth, part of Nemin wanted to die then, but fortune was not so kind. By the time the archers arrived, the Legion had retreated to a safe distance, and so the two fled.

Nemin had never had any real kinship with the Legion of the Dead except for Reah, and now that she was gone, he had no reason to refuse when Fen Asran invited him into the Grey Wardens.

Finished the sheet.

 

[PrinceOfShapeir]

Spoiler: Knight-Lieutenant Cyrus Eldane

Name: Cyrus Eldane

Age: 34

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Class: Warrior

Specializations: Templar

Abilities: For much of his life, Cyrus has been trained as a warrior of the Chantry and a Templar of the Circle of Magi. As a result, Cyrus is a devastating threat on the battlefield, his blade smashing through armor, tearing flesh and ripping bone with every swing. He is particularly effective against enemy mages, as the lyrium coursing through his body, combined with the training in Templar Magic given to him by the Order grants him considerable power against them.

Besides that, Cyrus is extremely knowledgable regarding the Chantry and Circle in general, and is particularly knowledgable regarding the Chant of Light, which he has memorized.

Weapons: Cyrus wields a highly decorated and well-forged greatsword. The weapon measures 56 inches in length from tip to pommel, with ten of that taken up by hilt. The intersection between blade and hilt is bisected with a straight, thick crossguard that flares at either end, forming a formal I shape. A fuller goes along the middle of the blade.

Inscribed into the filler on one side of the blade is a passage from the Chant of Light, the Canticle of Transfigurations, Chapter One, Verse Two, "Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him. Foul and corrupt are they who have taken His gift and turned it against His children. They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones. They shall find no rest in this world or beyond." On the other is inscribed a passage from the Canticle of Benedictions, Chapter Four Verse Eleven, "Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood the Maker's will is written."

The blade is a masterpiece of steel, a well-made and well-cared for instrument of death, sharp enough to delicately carve meat while strong and sturdy enough to cleave bones. The hilt is polished oak, wrapped in leather, with silver inlay along the crossguard, although in places the silver has worn away to show the steel underneath. The pommel is a teardrop-shaped frame of steel, with a large piece of amber set snugly within. A mark on the crossguard reads - albeit in very small writing - "Crafted by Marcus Sendar for the glory of Andraste and the Maker."

At all times unless specified otherwise the sword is slung on Cyrus' back in a sheath of black leather.

For close quarters where his greatsword is an unsuitable weapon Cyrus also carries a mace. The weapon is a vicious, flanged weapon measuring roughly thirty inches in length, with the grip wrapped in black leather. It is held in a sheath on Cyrus' left side.

Appearance: Looking at Cyrus there is no question that he is a warrior. Thick, strong muscle cords his frame, and he stands at an impressive 6'2, weighing roughly 220 pounds, very little of that fat. Despite his fairly long career, few scars mark him, and the ones that do are fairly trivial.

Cyrus' face is weatherworn, with a weary look to him. He has the look of a man who's seen too much and knows he's going to be seeing a lot more before this is all through, a sort of resigned despair.

Purely aesthetically, Cyrus has black hair cut short and green eyes. Ten years ago, he was probably a jovial, happy looking man, but now the vitality seems to have bled away and left just focus and determination.

Often, Cyrus clings to the Chant of Light that he hangs from his belt, gripping the book like a tether to sanity. At other times, he'll be seen or heard to mutter phrases from it, most often from the Canticle of Trials or the Canticle of Benedictions. Most often, these occurrences take place late at night or in the small hours of the dawn.

Cyrus eschews bulky plate armor, preferring instead maille, covered with a black surcoat bearing the Templar coat of arms. He does wear plate gauntlets, boots, and a flat-topped greathelm. All his armor is bare steel, kept highly polished. While it has obviously seen heavy use with the number of stitchmarks on the surcoat and the deep gouges into many of the links, it is still in excellent condition.

Personality: Cyrus is not a happy man. He is, however, extremely focused and dedicated. Service to Andraste and the Maker has not just been his duty, it has been his entire existence for thirty years, and while his mind may have shifted from orthodoxy to some extent, his dedication and loyalty have not wavered an iota.

Cyrus seeks to be the epitome of the Templar. Not the Templar that Mages fear, the bogeyman that comes for them in the night, but the Templar the people look up to, the stalwart, shining defender in the darkness, the line of steel between Men and Monsters, between the kingdoms of Humanity and the Abominations that seek to subvert and destroy them. To that end, Cyrus endeavours to be honorable, compassionate, gracious, and valorous. Not that he always succeeds on all those points, but he at least tries.

For a Templar, Cyrus is something of a moderate. While he hates and fears Blood Magic as much as anyone, given that it was the device by which the Golden City was tainted and the Darkspawn created, his reaction to normal Magic is more of a guarded wariness. In Cyrus' eyes, Magic is much like a hammer. In one hand it can be used to build, in another to kill. It can be good or evil, the wielder is the object of concern. This is not to say that Cyrus disagrees with the practices of the Templar Order, only that he bears Mages no hatred, and in fact feels sympathy for them for the weight on their shoulders.

Bio: Born in Val Royeaux, Cyrus is the thirdborn son of Aurelian and Genevieve Eldane, prominent nobles within the Court with strong ties to the Chantry and traditionally gifting all third sons to the Chantry for service. In service of that tradition, Cyrus was given to the White Spire shortly after being weaned and was raised by Sisters in the service of Andraste before being again given over to the Templars at the age of five, when he began his training in earnest.

What followed was fifteen years of hardship, as Cyrus' body and mind were hardened for battle, for war, and for execution, training with sword and mace, with book and map, with cleaver and piglet. Shortly after his tenth birthday they began giving him doses of lyrium and teaching him the subtle Magic of the Templars.

At the end of his training, Cyrus had been crafted from a timid if pious boy into a stalwart warrior of the faith, ready, willing, and eager to spill the blood of heretics and apostates. And for years he would get that chance, questing out across Thedas to find those Mages who had fled from the Circle for whatever reason and capture or slay them.

Time and again, Cyrus battled these apostates. Each was different - some begged to be allowed to escape, others pleaded only for a quick death rather than face Tranquility, while most opted to fight even to the death. Few ever surrendered without testing his resolve or his skill at arms. But while he could not deny his pity for their plight, nor could he allow them to escape. Were they evil? No. But were they dangerous? Undoubtably.

Cyrus proved to be an invaluable asset to the White Spire for years, rising swiftly through the ranks until at the age of thirty-two and the rank of Knight-Lieutenant it was determined that it was time for him to find a new place. He was sent to Denerim, in Ferelden, where he became second in command of the Templars there. It was there that he met Shay, a mage preparing to take her Harrowing - at the age of twenty-four, it was the Harrowing or Tranquility, with no other options. Despite the barrier of them being Templar and Mage, a friendship was kindled that blossomed into romance.

When the time of her Harrowing came, Cyrus insisted upon being the Templar watching her, believing that his presence would help to strengthen her and buoy her spirit, and perhaps he was right, but it wasn't enough. Shays mind was overwhelmed and she became an Abomination, albeit only briefly. Cyrus' training was stronger than Cyrus' horror, and he drove his blade into Shay's heart.

While the aftermath of this incident showed that Cyrus and Shay had been involved in activity that was untoward to say the least, action was not taken against Cyrus. The garrison Knight-Captain, a friend of Cyrus', saw no need to further anguish the man by disciplinary action over a woman who was now dead, instead hoping that Cyrus would recover from his grief and return to being an exemplar of what the Templar can and should be.

That did not happen. Grief consumed Cyrus, rendering him barely capable of performing his functions, much less his usual dedication to the work. For a year, he did little more than what was required of him, slowly pulling himself back together, aided by the focus brought from battling the Blight that swept through Denerim that year. Soon after, the Grey Wardens began recruitment. Cyrus, desperate to get away from the Chantry that seemed haunted with Shay's ghost made overtures to the Wardens and joined them.

 

[Redryhno]

Spoiler: Baladuran Baernin

Name:"Brother" Baladuran Baernin
Age:34
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Class:Warrior
Specializations:Spirit Warrior

Abilities:A devout Andrastian, Balad can recite the Chant of Light and all of Andraste's works(whilst out in the snow, jumping on one foot, carrying his armor in one hand and a tankard in the other.)

He is a consummate swordsman, able to deftly wield his two blades in near-perfect harmony and unison. His resolve is unquestionable, and has driven him forward when other men dared not tread on more than one occasion.

Weapons: Two swords of the purest silverite, mirror images of one another, and each blessed by two separate Mothers of the Chantry. He rejects the use of bows and crossbows, calling them tools of the demons, created to keep Man, Elf, and Dwarf from being sure of killing them, and serve to create more mischief as they can injure allies from across the battlefield. As backup weapons he has two Silverite daggers tucked inside his habit.

Appearance: He stands tall, at over six feet, and lithe, his impressive strength belied by his tall and imposing frame. His hair is of the golden wheat set upon by a setting sun, and his eyes the green of the Dalish woods in the height of spring. Balad's face bears one scar, abstractly hexagonal, on his left cheek, just below his eye. The right side of his neck stretching down to his collarbone boasts the symbol of the Chant of Light, a brand he applied to himself in fervor to the Chantry's teachings. Benedictions 4 is inscribed into his flesh, wrapping around his back and shoulders, the final word, "just", cut into the skin above his heart, which is on the opposite side as opposed to most Men. The rest of his body hosts a myriad of scars, some superficial, others deep wounds that he has taken great pains to heal(ie, sitting around).

His armor is composed of plates of silverite over red steel chain, the steel often looking akin to either blood or horrific wounds seeping out from the "skin" that is the silverite. He wears no helmet, proud to show his face to the enemies of the Chantry and all dark creatures that prey upon Man, Elf, and Dwarf. And he wears no shield, to show he will never cower behind a wall that separates him from said enemies, he will stand strong and resolute against their shadows and banish them back with the light that he wields.

Out of battle dress, he wears dark leather boots, shined so that a faint reflection can be seen in them if in the right light, spotless brown, plain, but suitable for any occasion or decor, pants and shirt.

At all times, whether in armor or out of it, he wears a Chantry robe modified so that he can wear it over his armor or his clothing,worn quite like an overcoat actually, and always has a slight coating of dried blood stains. It has been dyed a dark blue, perhaps black, it's difficult to differentiate it from another blue or black.

He stands straight and while not always clean-shaven, he attempts to keep his appearance in line, but a strange light can be seen emanating from within, especially when he activates his abilities as a dual channel for the two spirits of Valor and Justice that he has made deals with in return for their assistance against his enemies. He enjoys his work and spreading the word of the Maker, and this is evident in his face.

Personality: Balad is not a hard man, quite the opposite really, a just, though uncompromising, man of high morals that he knows must rarely be bent in order to allow the passage of living. His loyalties lie with what his interpretation of the Chant of Light entail, that justice should prevail over all, that the shadows of the Maker and the destroyers of the Golden City be crushed into oblivion, the weak be protected when they cannot be taught to protect themselves, and that the Creator's message spread to all corners of the world, only then can it truly be saved, all that ones such as him do is prolong the time they have to spread the Chant and keep the darkness at bay another day.

He holds no grudge or disdain for any of the races, as they are all children of the Maker, and they will accept the Chant in their hearts in time, all he must do is stave ,off the evil until they do, which he is confident he can do until his time comes to be by the Maker's side. An event that he knows will not happen for years to come.

He will often quote scripture when other words might fail to bring across his point, and will defend an innocent man to his dying breath should it come to that.

In short, the Canticle of Benedictions is his basic character and strength of spirit.

Bio: A Ferelden through and through, Barad's entrance into the world was with the expiration of his mother, a native to the Waking Sea bannorn. He was raised by his father, a man of Denerim driven to drink by his loss of faith, as he threw down the habit and his title of Brother in the Chantry. While never harmful to his son, he nevertheless resented him somewhat. This drove Barad to the Chantry, the one place his father would never dare set foot in, drunk or otherwise, and learned the Chant of Light early on in his life, knowing that his birth and his mother's death were not malicious acts committed by the Maker, but a blessing to one of his "special" children, one of many charged with the well-being of the world. He was unrestrained to follow his training a few short years later as he was put into the ranks of the ones trained to become Templars, where he learned more of the Maker's word and began forming more of his own opinions on His word.

Barad's induction into the order was never done however, as he snuck away in the middle of the night once he believed he had learned all that the Chantry could teach him at the age of 16, and came across a silverite sword left sheathed in the middle of a field, taking it as just another sign of his life duty. He carried it and had an exact replica of it made once he had enough money and they have been his constant companions ever since. One of the best with dual-blades in his group, and strengthened with his will to wander Ferelden, Barad destroyed the monsters of the world while also increasing his knowledge of the Chant of Light and what it meant to be one of the "Brothers of the Maker" as he found himself being referred to as. He led a simple life outside of his wanderings and battles, eating the simplest meals he could afford to eat, both physically and financially.

Before the Fifth Blight, he was struck down while battling an Abomination being hunted by Templars, who he was assisting. As he lay close to death, he was spoken to by two Spirits of the Fade, one of Justice, the other of Valor. In return for their boons, he would allow them to experience him battling the enemies of the Maker, as well as continuing to uphold what they represented in Humans and Elves.

He rose again to strike down the tortured mage from behind, earning the ire of the Templars as he was called an abomination as well and attacked. While he never intended to harm them, he believes he made it so that one of the two survivors would never again walk, and for that he is ashamed.

During the Fifth Blight, he joined the army gathered by the Warden and marched with it to Denerim, where he slew many Darkspawn, including the defeat of an Ogre single-handedly, though it escaped and he hunted it through the city, slaying it along with a host of Genlock and Hurlocks with the assistance of a handful of farmers he believed he was able to turn into capable warriors. Just as the final Darkspawn in sight fell, he was struck from behind by a Shriek, luckily missing his heart completely, as he was unlike other men. He turned and struck it down,the corrupted elf obviously surprised that he was not dead the others making sure to kill it before he collapsed, completely spent. Although it failed to injure any of his organs,thank the Maker, he was still struck with the taint, and refuses to die before the Maker deems it appropriate. He has held on longer than most men could have hoped,as he is assisted by spirits of the Fade as well as his faith and stubbornness, but his strength is waning, and he may only have a week left at most. The Grey Wardens are his final hope before the Maker takes him prematurely, before his life's goal is left unfulfilled.

Notes:The blessed swords thing is just character stuff, I don't expect them to have anymore than the same effect as any pair of Silverite swords. The same goes for anything else that seems like I'm fishing for buffs, just character stuff.

 

[TheIronRuler]

Here's my entry.

Spoiler

Name: Alessandro, 'the hunter'

Age: 42

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Class: Rogue

Specialization: Ranger

Abilities: Alessandro is a skilled scout and tracker. He is a very good shot and a decent cook. He is skilled in skinning animals and more than once worked with an animal's remains to create knick-knacks that attract rich customers. He works closely with his wolf friend whose keen senses keep the duo alert and ready for action.

Weapons: A longbow and a quiver of arrows around his waist. He also carries a steel short-sword, and an iron dagger whose blade is jagged on one side. The dagger is used to skin animals, saw wood, and anything else he would need to do in the wild to survive.

Appearance: Alessandro is a small fellow, standing at around 5 feet. He's a thin and nimble man with some muscle mass in his upper body. His hairline had been receding for the past decade and his hair had just turned white recently. His eyes are still sharp as they used to be, but their odd silver color can put off some people. His right ear is shredded and deep scars go across the side of his head.

His garb is one of a wanderer. Dim colors that can blend into the earth or the trees color his clothes ? simple, light and not restrictive. The only pieces of armor he carries on his body are his armguards.

Personality: Stoic and helpful, the hunter is a man of few words. Even though he enjoys a good drink and a pipe, he only does it in private. He will gladly lend a hand to those in need and will stop criminals if he could from afar with the help of his accurate bow. He still mourns the loss of his family in the blight.

Alessandro is systematic and careful. He knows when to retreat and when to fold his hand. He tends to occupy himself with his crafts, which include making furs and carving bones. He recently started picking up the trade of carving large teeth into chess pieces and other accessories.

Bio: Alessandro was born to a couple living in a small village under the heel of a local lord. His father hunted in the woods and supported the family while his mother made various items for sale in the village. One day in the forest Alessandro's father encountered the lord hunting in the woods. He warned him not to touch the large game in there and that these woods were his.

The father reluctantly agreed, but before leaving the scene he saw one of the lord's companions take a bag filled with poisonous mushrooms. Unable to watch the tragedy unfold, he ran to the castle where he barged into the kitchen and stopped the mushrooms from being served at an ongoing ball. After the lord discovered one of his companions tried to poison him and his family, he executed the man and gave Alessandro's father the right to be his gamekeeper.

Alessandro grew up with his father in the woods. He learned about the various animals and flora growing there. When he was old enough he started practicing with a bow. He learned how to catch rabbits when he was only nine, and confronted more violent animals by himself when he was fifteen.

At the age of nineteen Alex encountered a massive black bear who wandered into the local woods. The encounter left his ear disfigured and ended his father's life. He buried his father by himself near their home and a week later informed the lord of what had happened. The lord gave the same responsibility he bestowed upon his father to Alessandro. It wasn't long until his mother passed away from grief and he was left to live alone.

Alessandro lived his life quite well. He found a girl he loved and married her. A few months later she was pregnant and by the end of the next decade the pair had three children ? two girls and one boy. He lived a happy life in the countryside and only rarely had to encounter violent wildlife or poachers that he dispatched with ease. Over the years he started doubting his skills of detection and wanted to his son help him. The boy's outrageous refusal to dabble in killing animals and go out into the wild forced the hunter to find a temporary alternative, and so he 'found' a wolf cub after dispatching its mother. He called the dog after his grandfather, 'Noah', a name he would have given to his next son had his wife not gone infertile.

Six months ago, the blight had hit the land. Hordes or dark spawn ravaged the countryside, and Alessandro's village wasn't safe from harm. It was a day that he will never forget, a day when his wife and children were slaughtered in front of his eyes by a group of wretched beasts. The villagers were desperate in their attempts to hold off the attack until help arrived from the castle, but none came. The hunter dispatched the small scouting force together with the help of the remaining men of the village, but the losses were grim. He promised them he would come to the lord's castle and call for help, and so he did.

Struck with grief, the hunter still moved onward. On his way he met a small force fleeing in the opposite direction. As it turns out, the castle was attacked before the villages around it were, and all of the inhabitants were slaughtered. Distraught and aimless, the hunter followed the group on their road back to his village where they encountered a group of monsters that finished the job the others couldn't. After that battle Alessandro had nothing left besides what he had on his person and his companion wolf, Noah.

He took up the hunting of these wretched creatures for sport and later turn their remains into different knick-knacks. It was when he encountered a group of travelers on the road and sought to ask them if they are interested in buying any of his junk that he spotted an ambush made by the dark-spawn. Without hesitating the hunter started picking the creatures off from afar even before they sprang the trap. It forced them to leave their hiding place before the group reached the ambush point. It only took a few minutes for the dark-spawn to be completely destroyed, but the group was decimated. Alessandro then introduced himself to the sole survivor and offered to help the elf . Curious by his strange behavior and his tendency to scavenge teeth and other parts from the corpses of the dead creatures, the warden asked him if he was willing to join her in their efforts of cleaning the realm of these creatures. Alessandro accepted the offer to help without knowing what he really signed up for.

 

[Yokillernick]

Sure. Save me a space I'll have a sheet up my tomorrow after I get some rest. Quick question though. If you want to play as a mage, are you a) an apostate who was found by the Wardens, b) taken away from the Circle or c) I decide in my bio ?

 

[PrinceOfShapeir]

(Speaking from experience with the prior incarnation of this RP) Either one. Both are acceptable origins.

 

[Sehnsucht Engel]

<spoiler=Nyanthe>Name: Nyanthe Eorith
Age: 47
Gender: Female
Race: Elf
Class: Mage
Specializations: Battlemage

Abilities: Nyanthe's magic is mainly focused on primal spells, and she is skilled with all four of the elements, but prefers to use cold spells which has made her slightly better with that one. She has been a part of the circle for most of her life and is a specialized battlemage, which means she knows the spells befitting of a battlemage as well. She enjoys being in the heart of a battle, contrary to the mages who would rather cast spells from a safe distance.

She is not very skilled at anything else than the use of magic. On the contrary, she is actually pretty bad at most other things, as the only purpose she thinks she has in life is to become a powerful mage.

Weapons: An enchanted wooden staff, that increases her spellpower and cold damage.

Appearance: Nyanthe is a 185 cm tall elf, who weighs 60 kg. She has a curvy hourglass body and a few wrinkles, serving as proof that she is no longer a young elven woman. Her skin is slightly tanned. Her eyes has a light blue color and her face is not particularly pretty compared to other elves, rather she looks wise and a few years older than she is.

She has dark blonde hair, reaching down to her shoulders and it's never longer or shorter than that, for years she's had the same hairstyle. Around her neck hangs an amulet in the form of a tooth of a beast, and her ears are pierced, with different piercings in them depending on what she feels like wearing. Often it's accessories of elfish origin.

Her robe is of a brownish green, long, and covers most of her body. The torso and shoulders has been reinforced with leather, to give her better protection in battle. It's gotten torn over time and she doesn't know how to sew herself, so unless it's a large hole, it's unlikely that it gets fixed.

Her staff looks fairly simple, but she's had it enchanted to fit her own abilities.

Personality: Nyanthe is clumsy and unlucky, except when it comes to magic, which is the one skill she is great at. She very rarely fails with one of her spells, but if she were to cook a meal, she might end up setting fire to something. She is a bookworm and the kind of girl who would trip while carrying a pile of books, only to have everyone else walk past her, instead of helping. The few friends she has enjoys her company, but even they have it hard understanding how the simplest of chores can be a challenge to her.

She is a bit socially awkward when she's around new people and can sometimes be heard muttering unintelligible words, which is usually her swearing. The few individuals who became romantically interested in her, gave up pretty soon, as they found her hard to get along with. She doesn't really like or dislike others, and treats everyone with the same odd behaviour. It's just who she is.

Nyanthe is very interested in magic, its history and different uses. She likes coming up with new ways of using her own primal spells, and is usually seen practicing some kind of new trick or trying to get better in any way she can. In battle, she is fully focused and truly a force of nature. She feels much more motivated when she can unleash her powers, than when she has to do boring chores or meaningless tasks.

The templar order and templars are probably the only thing she hates. Even the darkspawn is more fun, as she gets to use her magic on them. She doesn't like how they watch over mages and hunts mages who aren't part of the circle down. Nyanthe would prefer to go wild every now and then with her powers, or to be allowed to do as she please, but the templars feels like a constant threat to her.


Bio: Nyanthe was born towards the end of the blessed age, in the alienage in Denerim. It was a poor and dirty existence for her and her family, where they did not always have enough coin for food. Starvation and diseases killed other elves in the alienage and unfortunately her family was not much luckier. Nyanthe lost a younger brother when she was five, and her mother had a hard time dealing with it.

It was just a few months later that Nyanthe started showing signs of magical ability. It scared her parents, as they didn't want their daughter to be taken away or worse. They tried to think of a way of protecting her or get her safely out of the city, but even if they did where would they go? They were city elves and would probably not be welcomed among the dalish, if they could even find them.

The choice was soon taken out of their hands, as Nyanthe froze a man's hand when shaking it. The cityguards found out about it and dragged Nyanthe off to the closest mage they knew about, taking her to the templar wasn't something they wanted to do, as she was only a little girl. They feared what they might do to her.

Nyanthe didn't cry when she was taken away from her home, even if her mother certainly did, instead she felt excitement and curiosity rushing through her. She didn't want to spend her entire life in the alienage anyway. The stories about heros and heroines had appealed to her, and now she felt that she could become someone great as well.

She was taken to the circle tower on the island in Lake Calenhad, accompanied by an older mage, who was already part of the circle. He told her that everything was going to be fine and she simply nodded in response for most of the journey.

The following years she spent training in the tower, under different teachers. She was always eager to attend classes and learn more, combined with her apparent power, it made her a promising young mage. She found a lot of the different spells interesting, but remembered that the first one she had used was a cold spell, which made her think that she would become the strongest she could if she focused on primal spells.

When she was seventeen she was tasked with undertaking the harrowing. She entered the fade through the use of lyrium, where she got to face a desire demon. It tried to seduce her and make her subdue to its will, and while she felt flattered for some reason, likely the effect of the demon, she didn't say a single word to the demon, before throwing an ice cone in its face. It wasn't that easy to win, and they did end up fighting in the fade, but eventually Nyanthe emerged victorious. It was a tear-filled reunion.

She was now a mage and the dragon age had just begun. The dragons was both a source of fear and interest to her. One of the first trips she made outside the tower was back to the alienage to visit her family, which she hadn't seen since she was dragged off to the tower.

The next ten years she spent in the tower, mostly studying on her own, but sometimes she would venture out into the world, to get real battle experience. These trips usually meant she'd travel somewhere, where rumors about demons came from, to face these opponents and kill them. She'd never travel or fight alone though, as it was safer to have at least one experienced warrior with her.

Towards the end of her thirties, she began teaching in the field of primal magic and she was now the rank of enchanter. The next ten years began pretty calmly for her, but became one of the most turbulent periods in her life, with the increase of darkspawn and a new archdemon. She fought the blight many times, and saw other mages fall in battle, but survived herself.

She was one of the few circle mages at the battle of Denerim. Nyanthe held her ground for a while, but was eventually struck down. The ones who found her nurtured her back to health, before she left to head back to the circle tower. Quite a few mages had died fighting the blight, before it ended and Nyanthe had been assumed to be among the dead, until she returned a couple of weeks later.

King Alistair asked the circle if they could spare any mages to become grey wardens, and they didn't really want to, knowing how many died during the joining, but Nyanthe volunteered. It was a shame, as they could still have a use for her, but perhaps it was better than sending someone who didn't want to.

Let me know if you want me to edit something.

 

[IFS]

Well this looks interesting, I may edit this sheet later, and if anyone has any comments/suggestions I would be happy to hear them.

Spoiler

Name: Rhys

Gender: Male

Race: City Elf

Age: 26

Class: rogue

Specialization: shadow

Abilities: Rhys is a competent archer and has been gaining some skill with his trusty daggers. His greatest skill is his ability to hide and remain unnoticed, though he also possesses some talent at picking pockets and locks.

Weapons: He possesses a longbow and a pair of daggers, the longbow was taken from the corpses of Denerim City guards who died in the darkspawn attack during the fifth blight. The daggers were looted from a store during the attack, and possess enchanments to improve his speed.

Appearance: Rhys has messy brown hair, and is short, even for an elf. Physically he doesn't look very imposing, though he is surprisingly strong and quick for his size. He wears a mismatched set of clothes, made up of bits of stolen leather armor and a pair of dirt covered boots that have lasted him for years. He also wears a silver ring with strange engravings that he claims was a gift from his mother, though it is likely stolen, it has no magical effects that he knows of, though he claims it makes him lucky.

Personality: If you asked Rhys how he's feeling his response would probably be "scared", he acts cowardly, but is not paranoid (or at least he claims he's not), but will not hesitate to fight to protect those he cares about. He tends to be very self-depricating and snarky, and loves to point out people flaws, even his own. He tends to be very pragmatic and will not hesitate to share his opinion, though he is also very loyal to those who haveed earned his respect. If he respects a leader he will question them, but will not undermine them. He tends to steal things, though since being recruited he's been trying to avoid filching things, or to at least to call it "requisitioning" instead of stealing.

Bio: Rhys was born and raised in the Denerim Alienage, and quickly learned that the best way to survive was to stay beneath peoples notice. He survived the purge and the plague by staying out of the way and being unnoticed, though he did play the part of a beggar to earn some money to support his sick mother, who refused to go see the tevinter "healers" as his sister had done. His mother late died in the darkspawn attack on the Alienage, which was when he first took up arms to defend his home. He hopes that one day he will be able to track down his sister, who he believes was shipped off to Tevinter by the so called healers.

He surprised himself with his abilities in fighting the darkspawn in the alienage, and with the city in shambles and his stolen equipment in hand he set out to see more of the world. One of the possessions he had stolen during the attack on the city was a book about the techniques of a shadow, and from it he learned how to better hide himself and improve his skills as a rogue and a combatant.

He eventually drew the eye of the wardens when he ambushed a roving band of darkspawn as they attacked some travelers. He was injured in the fight, and the travelers, thinking he was a warden for why else would an elf attack a group of darkspawn, brought him to the wardens while he was unconscious. When he awoke he was presented with an offer to join them, and remembering the way the Hero of Ferelden fought in the alienage, he accepted, although he doubts that he has nearly the skill to be worthy of joining their ranks.

I might not have access to the internet over thanksgiving break, so I would like to know when this is starting.

 

[Lizmichi]

Snip

Rogues cannot be Guardians, it's a warrior thing FYI. Also they can't use shields unless you meant for him to be a warrior. Other then that I see no issue.

 

[Lizmichi]

Chop

It's just my Gray Warden that's looking for people, it's not a group of Wardens.

 

[ultrachicken]

Snip

Rogues cannot be Guardians, it's a warrior thing FYI. Also they can't use shields unless you meant for him to be a warrior. Other then that I see no issue.

Apologies, my original concept was a rogue Legion Scout, but I decided to go with a warrior guardian instead. Guess I forgot to change one part. I'll fix it ASAP.

 

[TheIronRuler]

Chop

It's just my Gray Warden that's looking for people, it's not a group of Wardens.

.
I don't think I specified all of the group to be gray wardens. Could the gray warden be accompanied with a group of adventurers?

 

[Lizmichi]

Chop

It's just my Gray Warden that's looking for people, it's not a group of Wardens.

.
I don't think I specified all of the group to be gray wardens. Could the gray warden be accompanied with a group of adventurers?

Yes it's possible but not likely. That's the only issue I have really.

 

[TheIronRuler]

Chop

It's just my Gray Warden that's looking for people, it's not a group of Wardens.

.
I don't think I specified all of the group to be gray wardens. Could the gray warden be accompanied with a group of adventurers?

Yes it's possible but not likely. That's the only issue I have really.

.
Ok, I guess? It's minor and I can edit it out if you want. Is there anything else you would like to say about my character?

 

[Lizmichi]

Chop

It's just my Gray Warden that's looking for people, it's not a group of Wardens.

.
I don't think I specified all of the group to be gray wardens. Could the gray warden be accompanied with a group of adventurers?

Yes it's possible but not likely. That's the only issue I have really.

.
Ok, I guess? It's minor and I can edit it out if you want. Is there anything else you would like to say about my character?

Honestly, it's up to you. Other then that I saw not issue.