Dragon Age: Far and Beyond

junebug

lets weave soulless threads
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
  1. Looking for partners
Posting Speed
  1. Slow As Molasses
Online Availability
evening on thur , fri, and sat
Writing Levels
  1. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Nonbinary
Genres
dragon age series, asoiaf series, erotic, dark fantasy, high fantasy, suspense, adventure
Dragon Age: Far and Beyond

A Dragon Age RP by @Kat, Plot Credited to @The Dapper Mog

Hello everyone, my name is Kat. I've been rping for seven years now. This is the first Dragon Age rp I've decided to GM, so please thank Dapper for this beautiful plot he came up with! It's relatively simple and great to expand upon! If you have any questions and/or concerns, please feel free to PM me here on Iwaku or on discord.


The world of Thedas is a difficult one. Life is hard for most, with beasts roaming the land, foul magics and demons corrupting innocents, men preying upon their neighbors, and monsters running amok beneath the surface. Throughout history, these monsters have invaded the surface, led by old gods corrupted by the taint of the darkspawn. Thedas has encountered previously five of these blights, and signs are pointing towards another on the horizon. Fearing the impending blight, a small band of Grey Wardens, an order of warriors whom serve the sole purpose of defending the world from the darkspawn and ending the blights, have begun searching for allies in the coming conflict, while tensions mount between the various kingdoms of Thedas.

Current Lore

Within Nevarra, smaller villages outside of the major cities, Perendale, Hunter Fell, and Nevarra, have begun to notice strange figures off in the distance while hunting and gathering out in the forests. The possible death of those who travel around these areas have steadily increased, only to never be heard from again, and the plants and animals have been begun to rot and wither, even within the spring and summer months.

Rumors are spread that the "poisoning of the ground" and disappearances are because of Tevinter Imperium, though no one has been able to prove this. Since the activity surrounding these strange events have not matched up with Blights in the past, Nevarra is caught long-winded in growing desperate for closure with King Markus Pentaghast growing closer to his death bed.

The Free Marches to the east of Nevarra are aloof, yet intrigued by the growing situation. Rivain, Ferelden, and Anderfels, however, want nothing to do with the rising international tension. On top of this, Orlais is itching for Nevarra's land and scheming quietly behind the scenes.


Rules

1. Be mindful of Iwaku rules. They still apply to the roleplay.
2. Posting frequency expected is at least one post a week.
3. Writing level expected is adept at the bare minimum, preferably advanced.
4. Be mindful of grammar, punctuation, so on and so forth. Typos are understandable.
5. ENGAGE, ENGAGE, ENGAGE! I cannot stress this enough. Engage in OOC, bring forth your ideas, plot bunnies, and suggestions!
6. OVERCOMMUNICATE. Let us know what you're thinking, let us know when you can't post, and if you end up able to post? Awesome!
7. Have fun! If you have a struggle or concern, please don't be afraid to voice it.


General Character Sheet

Name:
Age:
Race: Human, Elf, Qunari, or Dwarf
Class: Warrior, Mage, or Rogue
Specialization: Depends on class, though optional. Talk to GM, if help is needed.
Occupation:
Brief Appearance: Any basic details a player cannot tell by the image you've provided.
Brief Personality & Skills: At least a paragraph.

Brief Bio: At least a paragraph.

Skills: You have twenty points to spend. You can spend four points max on two skills to give your character a bit of edge at the beginning or five points in one skill.
Willpower — 0
Dexterity — 0
Constitution — 0
Strength — 0
Communication — 0
Perception — 0
Cunning — 0
Magic — 0


Character Cast

Lysandra Ybanez, Human Rogue Duelist; by @Kat
George Townsend, Human Warrior; by @VengefulPeanut
Moire Sehari, Dalish Mage Shapechanger; by @Epiphany.
Eshalinev, Elf Blood Mage; by @sing o muse
Rahmas Kedogheist, Human Necromancer Mage; by @The Dapper Mog
Ser Adrian Mondford, Human Champion Warrior; by @Artorias
Argal "Ars" Razda, Dwarf Rogue; by @Rook
Paige Darkhorse, Elf Shadow Rogue; by @Chile
Cahir Telensia, Human Spirit Warrior; by @Verran
 
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George Townsend
04dff5d6aab07d68ff4ef4c6bbc9ee58.jpg

Name: George Townsend

Age: 24

Race: Human

Class: Warrior

Specialisation: None (If anything, guardian)

Occupation: Fugitive/Mercenary

Religious Beliefs: Andrastian Chantry, to some extent

Brief Appearance: Blonde hair and blue eyes, George sports a muscular build and stands at a height of 5'10. On his left shoulder remains a patch of darkened skin, a lingering memory of a nasty frost burn at the hands of a mage.

Brief Personality & Skills: George is a quick-witted and rather sarcastic gentleman with more intelligence than he lets on. In his years on the run, he has become accustomed to the game of lies and bears a deep-set mistrust for most people. While he might seem warm and friendly on the outside, he counts very few among his 'true friends' and can be very manipulative of those he deems unworthy of his trust. Trained to be an honourable fighter, George has a martial prowess to match any able bodied soldier and has learned enough in his time amongst the less desirable inhabitants of Thedas to know how to fight dirty, also.

Brief Bio: A childhood in Highever is rarely one of strife or misery. George was raised amongst one of the lower status noble families in the Teyrnir, one of two sons who were groomed for great things. Their father dedicated his life to building his sons into something that would make the Townsend name one to be respected. This panned out as George's older brother, Aedan, enlisted in the Templar order and swiftly climbed their ranks. Accolades and respect fell down upon the family for the honour brought by their eldest child. George was to be the next to do so, a career in the Teyrn's forces or something greater perhaps. While George wanted to follow through with this, his blossoming relationship with a young mage from the alienage threatened the family's booming status. After an extensive relationship and some tumultuous times, problems really started to come to a head after the alienage was accused of harbouring maleficarum - George's lover among the accused. Desperate to save her from the wrath that the paranoia would bring, George rushed to the alienage to warn her of the Templars' approach... too late. He found himself caught in the middle of a skirmish between the elves and the Templar forces. Amidst the chaos, he found his lover fending off his brother and a wealth of other Templars with whatever magic she could muster in the hopes of defending the others. Rushing to her defence, George brandished steel against the Templars, mortally wounding one. The pair fled the city and became fugitives, both wanted by the Chantry and the Teyrnir for their crimes. George doesn't talk often about why the pair parted, how they escaped or how he earned the burn mark upon his shoulder... only that his love for the girl earned the scorn of his family and that now his only home was the road.

Skills:
Willpower — 2
Dexterity — 3
Constitution — 5
Strength — 3
Communication — 3
Perception — 1
Cunning — 3
Magic — 0

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Lysandra Ybanez

Name; Lysandra Ybanez

First Name Meaning; Liberator

Age; 29

Race; Human

Class; Rogue

Specialization; Duelist

Occupation; Mercenary, Smuggler

Religious Beliefs; Yes, The Qun

Brief Appearance; Tan skin with red undertone and hazel eyes, Slender, yet muscular build, 5'5", 121 lbs. Possible various tattoos on her body.

Brief Personality & Skills;
Lysandra is an ambitious woman who's not used to people telling her no. She's strong mentally and physically, made true by her mother's militaristic roots and father's sheer willpower. This means she's also used to doing things on her own and is fiercely independent. Lysandra has led small groups before, particularly mercenary ones, but never to create lasting bonds or with intentions of seeing the people again. She's fairly social, however, her leadership could use improvement, as well as her persuasion because nothing good has ever come of either, especially when she's tried to persuade people to convert to the Qun. What she lacks in setting a good example for others, she makes up for in sheer willpower and liquid courage.

Brief Bio;
Lysandra grew up in Kont-arr. Her father, a Rivaini Merchant, had long dedicated his life to the Qun, as had her mother, before she passed away. He wanted Lysandra to live a relatively peaceful life growing up, and so, until she became an adult and took to adventuring, lived without notice or understanding of the volatility of other nations and public unrest. At eighteen, she traveled to Llomerryn on word of "how crystal blue the sea was" and that she could "be anyone she wished and help anyone she wished, if she tried hard enough". It was in Llomerryn that she truly experienced the horrors of Thedas outside of Kont-arr and shedded her old skin to become a mercenary and smuggler who wished to "allow wicked people the chance to experience the truth of what brings us together as a whole". So far, her travels and need for people to understand the Qun have only brought her enemies, specifically from those who swear by the Chantry and its teachings.

Skills;
Willpower — 4
Dexterity — 4
Constitution — 3
Strength — 2
Communication — 2
Perception — 3
Cunning — 2
Magic — 0
 
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Moire Sehari of Clan Sabrae

Age: 30
Race: Dalish Elf
Class: Mage
Specialization: Shapechanger
Occupation: Lion! (Well...technically she's between jobs at the moment...)
Religious Beliefs: Well...technically she venerates the Dalish Gods (particularly Mythal) but her notion of veneration tends to be an afterthought.
Appearance: 5'2", 115 lbs, with wavy auburn hair, golden eyes like a cat. Her Vallaslin are the same color as her hair, gently drawn in dedication to Mythal, the Protector and All-Mother.

Skills:
-Shapechanging: She can become a Halla for travel, a hawk for surveying, a wolf for tracking and a house cat for sneaking around Shemlen cities. Her favorite form by far, though, is the Red Lion.​
-Rather good at hunting and survival, even when not an animal, and a very good tracker when she needs to be.​
-Sneaky.​
-She's had Keeper training in herb lore, cultural lore and the stories of the Dalish...but she was a terrible student and only remembers bits and pieces all these years later.​
-She's also a fair Mage, proficient with the flame blast, vulnerability hexes and a useful Heal or Heroic Aura. Moire's rather rusty, though, given virtually all of her combat experience has been spent as a lion.​

Personality:
In a word, whimsical. Moire is possessed of an endlessly sunny disposition and equally endless laughter. Life is grand and everywhere she travels is a new forest for her to explore...and hunt.

On the positive side, Moire tends to be great company. She's easy to please, finds people interesting and is a surprisingly good listener. She has an amazing work ethic and a streak of determination that just won't quit no matter how bad things get. The Dalish woman also has a bit of a tendency for thoughts to get ahead of her words, leading to run-on sentences and occasionally awkward conversation as she is supremely talented at putting her foot in her mouth. Thankfully, that tends to make her endearing (or at least amusing).

On the negative side, though, Moire is selective about what interests her and ignores and dismisses anything that doesn't. She's respectful of Dalish tradition but finds it dull, an attitude that can infuriate her kin. She has unfeigned pity for her city-bound brethren, something some might find insulting. Moire is also just a touch too willing to kill her problems for the average Shemlen's comfort.

Biography:
Born into the Ghilain Clan, Moire grew up happily playing at the feet of her parents when the pair weren't out hunting for the Clan. When she manifested the ability to make plants grow at the age of seven, the Ghilain Clan Keeper elected to send her to the fading Sabrae Clan to help replenish that Clan's magic.

Apprenticed to its Keeper, Marethari, she found the lessons of history and elvish lore difficult, tedious and was an awful student. Like her parents, she yearned for the open forests, for the hunt and the chase rather than staying by the campfire. The freedom of her Clan meant her imprisonment. Despite her difficulties, Moire persevered in studying the Vir Atish'an and learned the basics of providing healing to her Clan as the way of peace would have her do.

In time, her inattentiveness meant the arrival of another Mage; Merrill from the Alerion Clan. Within a year, the other woman had succeeded Moire as First. This suited everyone, including Moire, who found the relative freedom of the Second exactly what she wanted. It left her free to study the only kind of magic she truly reveled in; shapechanging. For years, she studied the forms of the hawk, the bear and the halla. Her proudest moment came in mastering the shape of the famed Frostback Red Lion. At the same time, Moire learned to embrace the Vir Tanadhal, the Dalish Way of Three Trees followed by the Clan's hunters.

Until her Clan settled near Kirkwall. With her magic, Moire found it simplicity itself to rove the human city in the guise of a hawk. In all the years her Clan had wandered the wilderness, Moire had never come so close to so many Shemlen. They turned out to be much more interesting than the boring, tedious life of the Dalish Clan and one day she just never went home.

After tooling around the Free Marches, Moire just ended up going where the wind blew. Occasionally she solved problems for people who needed help to earn a little coin but for the most part she traveled from place to place by foraging (or hunting) for food. The Dalish Shapechanger did her share of killing bandits and monsters endangering villages or communities but she's neither motivated by money nor by a righteous cause. Mostly, she's in search of a good time...and possibly a greater purpose to at last give definition to a life that's never had it.

Skills:
Willpower — 3
Dexterity — 3
Constitution — 3
Strength — 2
Communication — 1
Perception — 3
Cunning — 2
Magic — 3
 
Eshalinev

Name: Eshalinev "Nev"5.jpg
Age: 26
Race: Elf
Class: Mage
Specialization: Blood magic
Occupation: Scholar

Appearance:
Eshalinev is small, even for an elf (about 5'3", and thin), but makes up for his unimposing stature with an elaborate wardrobe, a quirk which he picked up from his former master. He is quite pale and often appears sickly, causing him to earn unwanted pity from well-meaning strangers. His deep violet-blue eyes and dark hair contrast sharply against his pallor, giving him a striking appearance. Despite being mostly smooth and unblemished due to his lack of experience in battle or physical labor, Nev's skin bears a few scars -- a couple on his back from sporadic lashings in his youth, and many on his wrists and forearms from self-inflicted wounds over the course of his blood magic studies.

Personality & Skills:
Nev is a quiet and mindful man who would prefer to sit back and observe a situation than to actively participate. He is generally quite kind, but can appear otherwise due to his aloof manner of speaking and tendency to place logic over emotion. He does not open up easily, and prefers to keep a veil of mystery between himself and those he meets. He does not enjoy battle -- his interest in blood magic came from a purely academic standpoint, and the useful battle skills he developed were merely a side effect. As a man generally uninterested in harming others unnecessarily, he uses his own blood for rituals or, rarely, minuscule amounts from a willing assistant.

Bio:
Eshalinev was born into slavery in Minrathous, Tevinter. He lived and worked with his parents at the estate of a slaver up until he began to show signs of magical ability at the age of nine. After this, he bounced from slaver to slaver until he eventually ended up in the household of a wealthy young Laetan senator at age 15. Though he was still devastated to be separated from his mother, he quickly realized that his new master was a kind and gentle man -- at least in comparison to what he was accustomed to. The man, named Quintus, was interested in helping Nev develop his own skills and interests due to the belief that a happy and fulfilled slave, allowed to work towards his own passions, was far more valuable. And it proved to be true -- Nev quickly developed a fascination with blood magic, a school of magic that was immensely beneficial but not well-studied due to being discouraged within Tevinter and outright banned elsewhere. Because Nev was a slave and could not study magic at a Circle, Quintus agreed it was appropriate that he study a field that would not be taught in a Circle, anyway.

As the years passed, Eshalinev's place in Quintus's estate became less and less about service. It was often bitterly remarked by other slaves that Quintus was too fond of Nev to ever ask anything of him, though Nev knew that was not entirely true. He was still entirely at his mercy, and often did not need to be asked for anything -- he just knew what to do and never hesitated to do it. Nevertheless, the two were undoubtedly close, and spent many hours together studying and practicing Eshalinev's craft.

Two years ago, Quintus invited Eshalinev to accompany him on a trip to Orlais for "business" (Quintus never said, and Nev never asked). Having never been out of Tevinter, Nev jumped at the chance. After a few months of travelling around, their carriage was attacked on the road between Halamshiral and a nearby village they had been visiting, and Quintus was killed. It was believed to be an anti-Tevinter attack, perhaps due to seeing Quintus in the village tavern with a slave. Upon returning to Minrathous shortly after, Eshalinev was informed that Quintus had granted him his freedom as part of his will -- but no money or property. Still devastated by the loss, regardless of the complications of their relationship, Nev remained in Quintus's estate until his nephew came to claim the property a month or so later. After that, he spent close to a year enjoying his newfound freedom in Minrathous, including a brief stint studying at a Circle. The Circle did not support the study of blood magic, however, and before long, Nev could find no reason to remain in Minrathous -- or Tevinter, for that matter. He has since been travelling around Thedas, seeking knowledge and, perhaps above all, distraction.

Skills:
Willpower — 2
Dexterity — 1
Constitution — 2
Strength — 1
Communication — 3
Perception — 4
Cunning — 3
Magic — 4
 
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Name:

Rahmas Kedogheist

Age:

27

Race:

Human

Class:

Mage

Specialization:

Necromancer

Occupation:

Mortalitasi (Formerly)
Grey Warden

Brief Appearance:

Rahmas is slightly above average in height, standing at about 6'1", with a fairly athletic build. His musculature is toned, but, not particularly developed. His hair is typically worn long and tied, his ears are pierced, and he wears an elegant set of robes over a plain tunic.

No notable scars, but, Rahmas does have a few tattoos, including a pale skull tattoo on his right shoulder with flowers growing out of the eye.

Brief Personality & Skills:

Rahmas is driven, ambitious, and vengeful. His perspectives run deep, with his opinions of people developing quickly while also being difficult and slow to change. When someone slights him, Rahmas has a great deal of difficulty forgiving, and his wrath is seldom quiet. Still, while his personality tends toward extremes in the negatives, the same can be said for positives. If he trusts someone, he does so fully, if he cares for someone, it is without fail.

Rahmas is a gifted mage, being well versed in a few more broad circles of magic. Particularly skilled in necromancy and spirit magic, Rahmas' practice as a Mortalitasi has promoted a swift growth in understanding of death and the fade. Additionally, he is adept in cold magic, and has a natural affinity for barriers, able to infuse them with his other varieties of magic.

Thanks to his training has a Mortalitasi, Rahmas is also well versed in medicine, as well as treating both the living and the dead in terms of proper procedures, preparation, and maintenance.

Brief Bio:

Rahmas was born in Nevarra, his parents being of mixed families. His mother was from Rivain, his father, however, descends from a long line of Nevarran nobility. Raised as a noble, Rahmas learned the ups and downs of people and their interactions with one another, developing social skills and graces early on. From a young age, he showed aptitude for magic, and was trained to be a Mortalitasi in order to put such talents to good use while also maintaining a means of keeping an eye on him. He grew well into his role, becoming a valued member of his town, taking care of the dead, the dying, and their families.

As many do, Rahmas fell in love with a young woman, a merchant that also lived in the same town. They grew close, and eventually wed, and in due course, she found herself with child. The couple wished for a simpler life in their own space, where she could do her business and he could serve as the town's Mortalitasi. Times were strange, however, strange occurrences being reported outside of town, and on rare occasion, within the boundaries of the town. Withering plantlife, peculiar tracks, attacks on livestock, and in rare cases, attacks on citizens. Unfortunately, the warning signs didn't serve their purpose effectively enough, and the town was taken by surprised by the darkspawn incursion.

Truth was, very few members of the town knew what was happening, even less what they were up against. The pair fought the creatures together valiantly, and though the battle was won, his wife fell gravely ill. The sickness was strange, and it killed quickly. No medicine nor magic helped, and as he held her in his arms, she left him to be at the Maker's side. While a devout man, to some extent, a degree of disdain formed in his heart that day, a grudge that he couldn't release. After losing his wife to the darkspawn, as well as many of his peers, Rahmas sought out warriors to combat and deal with the creatures. Foolishly enough, he sought out the monsters, and was fortunate enough to discover a small group of the Grey Wardens whom had come to town, seeking information about the attack. After discovering that Rahmas had battled them and survived, the Grey Wardens brought him into the fold, conscripting him into the order to simultaneously aid them, and to pull him from his grief.

Skills:

Willpower — 1
Dexterity — 2
Constitution — 4
Strength — 3
Communication — 3
Perception — 2
Cunning — 1
Magic — 4​
 
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Kat's NPCs




  • Name: Claudia Forray
    Age: 31
    Gender: Female
    Race: Human
    Class: Warrior
    Specialization: Champion
    Occupation: Nevarran Grey Warden
    Current Location: Sanora


  • Name: Saramas
    Age: 47
    Gender: Male
    Race: Human
    Class: N/A
    Occupation: Magistrate of Sanora
    Current Location: Sanora
 

Name: Ser Adrian Mondford

Age: 28

Race: Human

Class: Warrior

Specialization: Champion

Occupation: Ex-Chevalier of Orlais

Brief Appearance: 6'0" with an athletic build that had been toughened through harsh training and lessons during his time in the Academie des Chevaliers. His face isn't scarred or damaged but underneath the intricate armor and clothing he wears is a body cut deep with scars. Thin white ones that traveled from the length of his bicep, or one more gnarly and noticeable that travels diagonally from his right pectoral and towards the side of his abdomen. Many other scars line his body.

Brief Personality & Skills: As expected of a Chevalier of Orlais, even an Ex one at that, he is a deeply honorable and loyal man to his Empire even though he is no longer in the loving embrace of his homeland. Born of a noble upbringing he was raised upon proper etiquette, mannerisms and how Orlesian Politics worked. A cunning man he had to become if he was to play the Grand Game in the courts of Orlais and uplift the Mondfort name even higher than it already aspired to be. A man of faith to the Chantry and Country -- chalk full of the deeply ingrained views on the other races of Thedas and those beneath his station.

His views and stance on many matters have already begun to change through the course of his self-made exile and traveling Thedas, looking to restore and remove the tarnish off of his family name to bring honor upon its crest once more. He has developed a twisted view upon his own Country even though there is much love in his heart and longing to return it was twisted now.

Brief Bio: Born into the Noble House of Mondford, Adrian is the firstborn son of Thoroux Mondford. Heir to the Mondford title, wealth, power and lands that came with it he was destined for a promising future -- one rich with adventure in the courts and political strife as he would enjoy the thrill of overcoming a rival noble in a game of wits or perhaps a duel. He was to join the Chevalier's like many Noble Children so often do. He was young when he left for training at the Academie des Chevaliers within the walls of Val Royeaux. A second home the Capital would become to the young, springing Adrian as he learned the hardships of becoming a proper warrior and a proper noble. To become a Chevalier one must be trained harshly, with no love or mercy in the brutal life, placing honor above all else and if one was dishonored then death was the only feasible option to rectify it.

He returned home to his lands in Val Mondford, greeting his waiting Mother, Sister and Father as a proud graduate of the Chevalier's and was officially a Ser Adrian now. He was young still, only now just gracing past his teenage years into young adulthood as he happily took life by the horns as a Noble should in Orlais. His Father too was still grasping for more, for greater titles and powers that they did not even have -- even with their own wealth and power there was always more to gain in Orlais and to do such a thing was to play the Grand Game. His Father had eyes on rival lands, the Thorroche's Land and Title. They were of equal stature and wealth compared to the Mondford family and had been its rival for generations.

Instead it was his Father that had lost everything instead of gaining. Adrian was away from his home, fighting against some bandits when he had received the news that his Father had passed and his Mother and Sister had married into the Thorroche name and through the marriage of his sister to the heir of Thorroche, and his Father's will disowning Adrian, he had lost everything. The will was a forgery made by his Mother, he was sure of it -- that she had dreams of her own that were more grand than even his Father's but she knew that Adrian would never go for it and that is why she had him disowned. His Family Name was now integrated into his rivals and his lands seized. He left Orlais, exiling himself in search for something to restore his Family name and take back what had been taken from him. To kill his Mother and perhaps even his Sister if she was in on the plan. They would pay for smearing his Family name through the mud.



Skills:
Willpower — 2
Dexterity — 4
Constitution — 3
Strength — 3
Communication — 2
Perception — 3
Cunning — 3
Magic — 0
 
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Name: Argal "Ars" Razda
Age: 36
Race: Dwarf
Class: Rogue
Specialization: None
Occupation: Mercenary

Appearance:
An early life lived with few amenities has left Argal with a rugged appearance. His build is muscular, with rough sallow skin and calloused hands. From head to toe, his body is covered in dozens of faded scars. The result of being broken too many times, a crooked nose adorns his face beneath thick brows. His long dark hair is always kept restrained and his beard neatly maintained. He stands at 4’10.

Personality & Skills:
Argal has been fighting for survival since the day he entered Thedas and it has had a marked effect on his personality. He’s motivated by survival and money and has done unsavoury things for both. However, he’s far from without morals and there are some lines he absolutely won’t cross. He’s cynical and selfish, but he has a soft spot for the misfortunate. Furthermore, Argal understands that sometimes it’s just business and everyone does what they’ve got to do to survive and he doesn’t hold that against anyone. He has little trouble playing nice to get a job done and rarely holds grudges. He’s sociable enough but tries not to get too attached to others as his profession doesn’t lend itself to long term relationships. Argal is also a tinkerer and inventor in his spare time, having skill with both traps and woodworking. He’s also fairly good at slipping things from people’s pockets.

Brief Biography:
Born and raised in Dust Town, Argal was the surprise offspring of two casteless who wanted no part of having a child. A lesson they learned a bit late. The two were together only a short while before his mother decided to leave Orzammar behind and go topside. She attempted to convince her partner to go with her, but he was stubborn and refused – content with his role in the carta. Argal remained in Orzammar with his father where he learned to beg, scrounge, and steal. Although he was good at cutting purses, he enjoyed foraging more. Ars liked to tinker and he had a habit of taking junk and turning it into something useful. Usually, traps which found their way to his father’s boss.

When Argal hit his mid-teens he left begging and petty theft behind in order to join the carta, having learned something of fighting from his father. His trap making continued to prove useful. For several years, things continued this way. Until Argal’s father was killed in a carta related incident. Ars realised his future wasn’t looking any brighter and he decided to follow in his mother’s footsteps and leave Orzammar behind. On the surface, he used his carta skills to make a living as a mercenary. His main goal is to earn enough money to settle down comfortably, but he also hopes to find his mother again, although he realises the chances of that are slim.

Skills:
Willpower — 2
Dexterity — 4
Constitution — 2
Strength — 3
Communication — 2
Perception — 4
Cunning — 3
Magic — 0
 
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Name: Paige Darkhorse
Age: 19
Race: Elf
Class: Rogue
Specialization: Shadow
Occupation: Alchemist's Apprentice

Brief Appearance: Paige is short, barely cresting above 4'10" (although she'll tell you she's at least 5ft, and that the ruler is wrong). Her tiny frame is accompanied by long lithe fingers that typically reach for the picks in the hidden pocket of her cloak, or the knife strapped just beneath the cuff of her boots. At a distance her hair and eyes are dark brown with no striking color to them at all. But upon close examination or in certain lights, her hair reveal streaks of rust red, her eyes tinged with flecks of amber.

Brief Personality & Skills: Imagine, if you will, an orphaned elf on the streets of Nevarra, having no family, no home, betrayed by the world before she was even born. Now imagine that kid having a rebellious streak and a knack for roguish behavior, dashing madly through the streets past curfew, guards scrambling after her because she just stole a few dragons from some lovers in the park. That's Paige in a nutshell.

Paige is a clever young girl with a quick wit, a liar's tongue, and a knack for getting into trouble. She's been spurned and beaten by the cruel streets of Nevarra more than a hundred times, but probably deserved only a little more than half of her misfortunes. She has a terrible habit of gambling, especially on horse races, and even worse luck when it comes to winning.

But growing up on the streets means she knows how to survive, knows when to flee a particularly nasty situation, and how to cling to the shadows. She knows the nooks and crannies of a place better than most, and has watched a lot of things long enough to be decent at some of them. She's good with picks and throwing knives, can shoot a bow well enough, even from horseback. She knows cons and stories. She probably knows more than she should about alchemy; the art of making potions, poisons and explosives. But someone else is to blame for that one.

Brief Bio: Paige is an orphan from Nevarra. The end.

Just kidding. The woes of Paige's life could fill ten books, but that could be said for most elves living in the alienage of almost any city. And if you asked, she wouldn't tell you about the bitter seeds of her life's beginning. What she would tell you is that she's been lucky. Lucky enough to be a stable-hand at a stable that trained, sold, raced, and bought various horses from all over Thedas. Lucky enough to grow up on stories of great figures such as Garahel (her personal favorite), Aveline, the Hero of the Fifth Blight, Andraste and more. Lucky enough that when her job with horses fell through, she was picked up to apprentice under a peculiar alchemist in need of dexterous hands. Lucky enough that when she left the life of petty thievery behind, her merry little band let her go without so many strings attached.

More than what she has done, Paige can tell you about what she wants to do and see. She wants to see an Orlesian Chevalier. Not a hoity toity prat in armor, but an elite horseman who rides proud atop a regal steed. She wants to learn the recipe for the most deadly poison in the world, no doubt guarded by the Antivan Crows. She wants to meet a Grey Warden and fight darkspawn like the legendary hero Garahel!

However, she most definitely does not want to meet any boys. Blech.


Willpower — 3
Dexterity — 4
Constitution — 2
Strength — 1
Communication — 3
Perception — 3
Cunning — 4
Magic — 0
 
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Name: Cahir Telensia
Age: 27
Race: Human “Ish. I’m a halfer. Human and elf. Human dad, mom elf. Got most of my dad’s look, but sure picked up my mom’s light feet and love of nature.”
Class: Warrior
Specialization: Spirit Warrior
Occupation: Grey Warden
Brief Appearance: "Never could grow a beard though and my ears are a bit pointed. Oh! Oh! You mean my face. Well, I've got skin kissed by the sun, dirt brown hair, and eyes as rich as a chocolate souffle. Whatever that is. Elsha says she wants to cut them out and see if they'd taste the same, but I think she's joking. Maybe. Don't ask what she puts in her cooking cause it's all delicious."
Brief Personality & Skills: “I’m probably one of the more relaxed Grey Wardens you’ll ever meet. Though I suppose I don't look it. Old Man said if I could ever hold a conversation with somebody, besides Meysha, then I’d recruit at least another dozen Wardens just from my disposition. Oh, Meysha? She’s, least I think she’s a she. C’n a Fade spirit be a she? Well, I imagine some mage or the Old Man might know more. Anyway, Meysha’s been with me as long as I c’n remember. Helping me with tasks, honing my way of war. Cause of her, my strokes of the blade and bolts from the bow sometimes seem to almost just pass through armor. Narry a blemish upon them, but they die. Though, no doubt all this would be more meaningful if I weren’t mute.”

Brief Bio: Cahir was the result of the union of a human and elf. Knowing their relationship would be stigmatized, the couple left Denerim and moved to the outskirts of Lothering. It was a hard start. Two city folk having to adapt to a life of farming and hunting. However, the duo managed it in time, despite numerous setbacks in the first harvest and Eddrin was born early next year. The first thing they noticed about him was that he was mute for no cry ever escaped his lips, though he certainly made the face for it. The second was the lack of pointed ears. But, regardless of his looks or his sound, he was joyously welcomed into the little family.

His mother loved the woods. For her, it was almost a rediscovery of her ancestry. She could almost pretend to be a elf of the Dales and every now and then toyed with the idea of seeking them out. But every time this thought came up, her husband flashed into her mind As a babe, Cahir was often taken far and wide in the surrounding forests and swamps of the Korcari Wilds. Usually done more in the winter months when farmwork was far lighter. His father, hardworking and backbreaking for his family, rarely joined them. The two paid little heed to the ghost stories of swamp witches, Chasind barbarians, and still tainted creatures leftover from the fifth Blight that the people of Lothering. “Shems will make up all sorts of horror stories,” she tell her baby who gestured and made cooing faces at nothing and everything in particular. Still, if they came across a patch of land that was obviously blighted, she’d turn right around.

Not that his father wasn’t present in his life for, while trips into the wilds would last all while his parents were alive, Cahir’s father taught him the basics of hard-work, a farmer’s eternal responsible nature, and a solid physical foundation that would build well throughout his child. It was apparent, however, that Cahir wasn’t a normal child. His baby motions at nothing continued into his childhood. It wasn’t long before the parents were concerned about the horrific possibility of demonic possession. However, despite their faith in the Chantry, they worried that an exorcism would do more harm to the child than help, and as he wasn’t trying to strangle the chickens or appeared as if he was losing his soul, they left the matter be. As to how the inhabitants never found it, it is simple when one remembers that he was the son of a human and an elf who lived outside of the proper village to small town. People just simply ignored them. And this was much to Cahir’s joy for he had a strange companion that he assumed, for some time, to be an imaginary friend. After all, it was someone who he could communicate to with only thought and emotion. It was she who began teaching him much about the world in the way of sharing stories. Numerous stories that stretched down through the ages across time. He often asked as to how she knew such stories, but Meysha claimed to not know, stating that she awakened in both the Fade and physical world when he did.

Their favorite haunt became Ostigar. Sitting, or her floating as she felt like it, the two would discuss tales, their latest explorations, and family doings. Ever, though, their eyes would ever turn to the horizons around them. Fed on tales, the duo would imagine what lay beyond. Tragically, plague came to Lothering and would claim both his parents, leaving the lad alone at the age of fourteen, a mere year before a traditional coming of age at fifteen. Thrust with the burdens of the farm, Cahir was forced to actively deal with the people of Lothering. Immediately his mannerisms of talking, or rather signing, and silently laughing with seemingly nothing took issue with the people of the town. The local Chantry in particular began to wonder at what madness plagued the boy. But Meysha, perceiving their thoughts, advised flight.

He took it and entered to Kocari Wilds and would have perhaps never been heard again if it weren’t for the fact that the story caught the attention of the Grey Wardens and, inadvertently, the Dalish. Though each had the inaccurate tale of some elven or human mage who said nothing but still cast strange spells while mutely conversing with his familiar. By chance, fortune, or fate, a Grey Warden found him first and offered, what was to Cahir, the adventure of a life-time. For, in all the stories that Meysha shared with him, none ever discussed the political struggles of the nations, nor of the grudges they bear to the Wardens’ Right of Conscription. Accepting a place into the Grey Wardens at age fifteen, Cahir set his eyes upon the horizon. It was one full of martial teachings, challenges, and a place for this half-elf to belong.

Skills:
Willpower — 3
Dexterity — 3
Constitution — 3
Strength — 3
Communication — 1
Perception — 3
Cunning — 3
Magic — 1
 
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Given Name: Raas Imakari

Translation: The Nothing Child

Chosen Name: Saar Shokrakar

Translation: Dangerous Rebel

Age: 26

Race: Tal-Vashoth

Class: Mage

Specialization: Necromancer

Occupation: Armor and Weapon Craftswoman


Religious Beliefs: No, especially not the Qun.

Brief Appearance: Standing at six foot nine inches and carrying ember coated eyes. Her face is adorned with elegant designs stained with ash grey war paint. Horns cut wildly from her skull with metalwork enwrapping them. Elf like ears sticking out from her snow colored hair as her pale skin accentuates her body. All these things make up this Tal-Vashoth and she seems devoted in covering her palms with her gloves. Wearing only a single pauldron upon her left shoulder she leaves the other bare. Revealing more carefully tailored war paint upon her skin as armor covers her body. Gauntlets are carried upon each arm as more armor falls upon her hips. She appears well prepared for the violence of what the world offers and the viciousness it can prepare.

Brief Personality and Skills: Incredibly untrusting of others and carrying very little faith in the good people do. Questioning the motives of others and constantly rejecting the ideas of the Qun. This has led to a life of loneliness, though it has aided in her focus on her abilities and skills as a craftswoman. Skill sets both acquired by someone extremely valuable and knowledgeable. Whomever taught her was someone of extreme importance. Though, this secret remains hidden as her time for people is rare and lacking. This has made times hard and has made her hungry at times. Her work requires an understanding of her patrons. It also largely depends on word of mouth. Luckily, her ability and skills in crafting items allows for people to know of her. As her diligence and remarkable equipment is sought after by some. It takes time for her to finish whatever is asked of her though. This leads to stress and exhaustion on her part as she doesn't seem to have much outlets of any kind. Her dedication seems excessive but her unknown history gives little to help with this. She seems determined in making something valuable with whatever materials she is given. Creating something worth its value is something extremely important to her. She never wishes to make something meaningless and she refuses to waste time in creating something worth... Nothing. A word that was used upon her birth and something that strikes at her mind in an ugly way.


Brief Bio: All that is known is that this Tal-Vashoth was once a part of the Qunari. As a mage it is without a doubt that she was likely committed as a Saarebas at the age of twelve. Placing her in extreme conditions as she was likely chained and imprisoned by an Arvaarad("Holds back evil"). Saarebas are required never to be alone and must be near their Arvaarad(caretaker) at all times. Failure in doing so demands suicide or execution by the Qun. Being labeled and seen as dangerous, they are forced to wear heavy pauldrons as chains hang from a massive collar around their neck. Iron masks are embedded upon their faces as they become a prisoner within their own body. It is still unknown why she only carries a single pauldron but it may be due to acknowledging her past. Her bare shoulder alluring towards her freedom from such things. Even the face paint she chooses to adorn resembles a mask she may have once worn. All these things may reveal some stories but she has never confirmed any of these herself. Her palms are something that seem to cause great pain both physically and mentally. A constant reminder of whatever past she bears and something she cannot forget due to her profession.

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What she may have been.


It has been quite some time since those events in her life. Requiring to learn the economics and trade of other races while understanding how to live within this new world. There was a hatred she could recognize and it was a familiar feeling. Though, this place offered her more than her home ever did. At times it was difficult and many of those periods she debated on working as a mercenary. Tempted to join other Tal-Vashoth in such work but choosing to remain away. She doesn't particularly seem to like others of her own kind. Yet, she seems desperate to find any others like her.

Her communication is poor but she has developed a way to market her wares. Capable of creating magnificent illustrations she uses them to help sell her wares. She crafts only on commission and requires half the payment to do so. Using this to help pay for whatever materials she needs and asking for the remaining half once she finishes. She also demands to examine and inspect whomever she is creating this for. To assure it will work as intended and crafting to make it suitable for the individual.

While this makes her lifestyle appear slow, she must move from place to place. Never staying long enough to attract trouble and leaving once she has enough to make her way towards her next destination. Despite this she has already gained a reputation in nearby towns and some people seek her out for her wares. This seems to aggravate her but she refuses to turn down work. These people often request to know the name of the person who crafts these things. She refuses to do so but instead gives them one last title to know her by.

Ataashi Al'nisa, the Dragon woman.

Skills:

Willpower — 4
Dexterity — 2
Constitution — 3
Strength — 2
Communication — 1
Perception — 2
Cunning — 2
Magic — 4


 
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