Welp all forward into the breach we go.
Appearance:
Her hair is black and has been cut short so that it could not be used to pull her down.
Name: Knight-Lieutenant Arryn Vral
Race/Nationality: Fereldanian/ Human
Age: 33
Gender: Female
Class: Templar
Personality:
A pragmatic individual, devout in her beliefs, and exceptional at getting results as efficiently as possible, mostly do to her training. Arryn is a cold individual seemingly distant from the world around her and the deaths her own hand has caused over the years. Being in charge of small teams to hunt down maleficars had lead her to have a calm and tactical mind during battle always the ever-minded tactician trying to keep two steps ahead of whatever threat presents itself in front of her. Though because of her cold professionalism most are afraid or turned away from her seemingly ghoulish ability to weigh a quantitative value on human life. Though contrary to popular belief she does her morals and the capacity to feel guilt and sorrow but she has learned to be able to put her own morals aside to serve the greater good as the blade of Andraste. And when she is not actively on duty she can be seen acting almost normal smiling and enjoying a good warm meal as much as the next person.
History:
Born 96:Blessed Arryn grew up in the arling of West Hills the heavy forested land situated in the southwestern Ferelden the last bastion of civilization among the borderlands of the Frostbacks and the Wilds. the eldest daughter of three with a brother John and her little sister Gwyn. Their parents were Sir Vral a knight who fought under the banner of Arl Gallagher Wulff and a hunter who he fell madly in love with known as Caithe.
Arryn's childhood was a simple one in the forests of West Hills they lived in a small village where nothing much really happened beside woodworking and farming the same wood working and farming that had been going on for generations. The occasional sign of the greater world penetrating thorough was when her father was called down to the Arls estate to serve as part of the guard for a few months out of the year , as well as the occasional dwarven caravan coming from the topsiders outside of Orzammar before they headed north towards Denerim. It was a small town where everybody knew one another and family histories and interactions could be traced back and linked together for years. Though everybody had there favorites and Arryn's was a sister of the Chantry known as Ilia. Ilia would always have the best stories to tell all the children of the village while their parents ghosted away to the tavern to get a bit of a reprieve themselves. She would tell stories of heroes chosen by the Maker to perform great deeds from stopping plagues to slaying abominations, as well as stories of the other heroes of Ferelden such as that of King Maric or of Teyrn Loghain's courageous battle at the River Dane. These stories always inspired Arryn to want to become a great hero so that people could tell stories about her and so she had found herself a dream and a goal to strive for at a young age.
Arryn's militant training prior to joining the templars came out of necessity more then anything else for many dangers surrounded West Hills. These dangers ranged from wild wolves and other beasts that had wandered out of the Wilds and the Frostbacks but animals could be outsmarted the greater danger was that of the Chasind and the Avvar that lived around them and would ride the villages and towns of the arling during the winter months to sustain themselves and their tribes. And so from a young age every child was at least able to weld a dagger to defend themselves if the time came. Since both of her parents had prior combat experience they were able to train her well, the young girl taking more to the sword and shield skill set of her father rather then her mother's preferred use of bows. She would spar with her younger siblings and her father when he was home and not busy with his axe gathering lumber. She enjoyed the art of combat the feeling of the wooden practice sword her father had carved for her and the weight of it in her hand. It was something fun to do and it was oddly meditative in a way.
This was how most of her early life progressed as she grew up into a women. Fighting, praying, eating, hunting, Fighting, praying, eating, hunting and so on and so forth for seemingly the longest time. When she was sixteen she began to go out with her mother trusted her to go out on hunts alone in the surrounding area and she was dragged along whenever they went to market the game they caught the traders. It was around this time that Gwyn began to show signs of magical ability the youngest Vral she was seven. Soon afterwards the Templars from the circle came to take her to the circle tower. Arryn did not like this idea of her sister begin taken away just because she could do magic it was not her fault and she would never hurt anyone. But yell this she did as the templars took her away it did not change anything and for the first time the full weight of Transfigurations 1:2 bared down upon her, a passage that little did she know would eventually become part of the foundation of her entire life.
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.
But time moves on ever forward and wounds are healed and covered. It was not until two whole years after Gywn was taken that the hands of fate caste their shadow down upon her once more. She eighteen years old when the Avvar raiding party attack her village. The winter winds had come hard that year and the Wilds and the Frostbacks seemed void of life as the icy winds seemed to claim any and all life that tried to sprout. The cold kept West Hills in a savage grip where the villagers tried their best to survive on their harvest food stores and the occasional hunt gone right. Though a hungry stomach was nothing compared to the Avvar that would come down into the arling their footsteps easily concealed in shifting snow allowing for them to remain undetected. Several raids had already happened early in the season with increasing frequency and even though the Arl positioned guards along the borders there was still vast land to be covered and the raiding parties knew where to find the holes in the patrols. Men of the West Hills and the tribesmen of Avvar felt no deeper hatred towards one another then one born out of circumstance. Both parties were trying to survive and to survive one had to acquire resources and defend them. That was all raiding season boiled down to a game of survival, kill or be killed.
They hit the village fast coming out of the woods in the dead of night and many were dead before the alert could even be sounded. Houses of canvas and lumber began to burn as the raiders swept through like an avalanche. The rest of her family died in the resulting chaos that resulted along with most of the villages population. Though the Avvar were eventually routed when the Shaman leading the raiding party was seemingly struck down. Their moral broken the towns folk were able to gain the upper hand. They say when the templars sent by the Chantry found Arryn after the battle she was still in the middle of the town center hacking away at the bloody and mangled body of the Avvar Shaman she had killed with a woodsman hatchet in a raged induced rampage the night before. With nothing left for her no family except for her sister away in the circle and with no more home when she was offered a chance to train to join the ranks of the Templar Order she accepted.
Over the next fifteen years she trained as a templar and she fell right into it. It was through this process that she began to become cold and distant learning to put her morals behind her to get results. When she was 25 years old she promoted to knight corporal and when she was thirty she was promoted to Knight-Lieutenant. Her natural martial talents and a cool head built for battle added her. Some say that someday she could become a Knight-Vigilant one day if she was kept on the forward track that she was currently on. Currently though with the rising blood mage problems she was sent to the Chantry in Gwaren to investigate a strong maleficar presence there. Still young and not with many years under her belt in the order yet she was still learning always learning it was required for the mages and abominations would not stop adapting and so neither could she.
Weapons:
Standard Issue Sword and Shield provided by the Chantry
Armour:
Templar Heavy Armor
Skills:
Beside her Martial skills being who she is she has an understanding nature of the templar talents to a degree. Having not perfected them to science like Knight-Commander Graegoir but still understanding the basics.
Theme song
Her hair is black and has been cut short so that it could not be used to pull her down.
Name: Knight-Lieutenant Arryn Vral
Race/Nationality: Fereldanian/ Human
Age: 33
Gender: Female
Class: Templar
Personality:
A pragmatic individual, devout in her beliefs, and exceptional at getting results as efficiently as possible, mostly do to her training. Arryn is a cold individual seemingly distant from the world around her and the deaths her own hand has caused over the years. Being in charge of small teams to hunt down maleficars had lead her to have a calm and tactical mind during battle always the ever-minded tactician trying to keep two steps ahead of whatever threat presents itself in front of her. Though because of her cold professionalism most are afraid or turned away from her seemingly ghoulish ability to weigh a quantitative value on human life. Though contrary to popular belief she does her morals and the capacity to feel guilt and sorrow but she has learned to be able to put her own morals aside to serve the greater good as the blade of Andraste. And when she is not actively on duty she can be seen acting almost normal smiling and enjoying a good warm meal as much as the next person.
History:
Born 96:Blessed Arryn grew up in the arling of West Hills the heavy forested land situated in the southwestern Ferelden the last bastion of civilization among the borderlands of the Frostbacks and the Wilds. the eldest daughter of three with a brother John and her little sister Gwyn. Their parents were Sir Vral a knight who fought under the banner of Arl Gallagher Wulff and a hunter who he fell madly in love with known as Caithe.
Arryn's childhood was a simple one in the forests of West Hills they lived in a small village where nothing much really happened beside woodworking and farming the same wood working and farming that had been going on for generations. The occasional sign of the greater world penetrating thorough was when her father was called down to the Arls estate to serve as part of the guard for a few months out of the year , as well as the occasional dwarven caravan coming from the topsiders outside of Orzammar before they headed north towards Denerim. It was a small town where everybody knew one another and family histories and interactions could be traced back and linked together for years. Though everybody had there favorites and Arryn's was a sister of the Chantry known as Ilia. Ilia would always have the best stories to tell all the children of the village while their parents ghosted away to the tavern to get a bit of a reprieve themselves. She would tell stories of heroes chosen by the Maker to perform great deeds from stopping plagues to slaying abominations, as well as stories of the other heroes of Ferelden such as that of King Maric or of Teyrn Loghain's courageous battle at the River Dane. These stories always inspired Arryn to want to become a great hero so that people could tell stories about her and so she had found herself a dream and a goal to strive for at a young age.
Arryn's militant training prior to joining the templars came out of necessity more then anything else for many dangers surrounded West Hills. These dangers ranged from wild wolves and other beasts that had wandered out of the Wilds and the Frostbacks but animals could be outsmarted the greater danger was that of the Chasind and the Avvar that lived around them and would ride the villages and towns of the arling during the winter months to sustain themselves and their tribes. And so from a young age every child was at least able to weld a dagger to defend themselves if the time came. Since both of her parents had prior combat experience they were able to train her well, the young girl taking more to the sword and shield skill set of her father rather then her mother's preferred use of bows. She would spar with her younger siblings and her father when he was home and not busy with his axe gathering lumber. She enjoyed the art of combat the feeling of the wooden practice sword her father had carved for her and the weight of it in her hand. It was something fun to do and it was oddly meditative in a way.
This was how most of her early life progressed as she grew up into a women. Fighting, praying, eating, hunting, Fighting, praying, eating, hunting and so on and so forth for seemingly the longest time. When she was sixteen she began to go out with her mother trusted her to go out on hunts alone in the surrounding area and she was dragged along whenever they went to market the game they caught the traders. It was around this time that Gwyn began to show signs of magical ability the youngest Vral she was seven. Soon afterwards the Templars from the circle came to take her to the circle tower. Arryn did not like this idea of her sister begin taken away just because she could do magic it was not her fault and she would never hurt anyone. But yell this she did as the templars took her away it did not change anything and for the first time the full weight of Transfigurations 1:2 bared down upon her, a passage that little did she know would eventually become part of the foundation of her entire life.
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.
But time moves on ever forward and wounds are healed and covered. It was not until two whole years after Gywn was taken that the hands of fate caste their shadow down upon her once more. She eighteen years old when the Avvar raiding party attack her village. The winter winds had come hard that year and the Wilds and the Frostbacks seemed void of life as the icy winds seemed to claim any and all life that tried to sprout. The cold kept West Hills in a savage grip where the villagers tried their best to survive on their harvest food stores and the occasional hunt gone right. Though a hungry stomach was nothing compared to the Avvar that would come down into the arling their footsteps easily concealed in shifting snow allowing for them to remain undetected. Several raids had already happened early in the season with increasing frequency and even though the Arl positioned guards along the borders there was still vast land to be covered and the raiding parties knew where to find the holes in the patrols. Men of the West Hills and the tribesmen of Avvar felt no deeper hatred towards one another then one born out of circumstance. Both parties were trying to survive and to survive one had to acquire resources and defend them. That was all raiding season boiled down to a game of survival, kill or be killed.
They hit the village fast coming out of the woods in the dead of night and many were dead before the alert could even be sounded. Houses of canvas and lumber began to burn as the raiders swept through like an avalanche. The rest of her family died in the resulting chaos that resulted along with most of the villages population. Though the Avvar were eventually routed when the Shaman leading the raiding party was seemingly struck down. Their moral broken the towns folk were able to gain the upper hand. They say when the templars sent by the Chantry found Arryn after the battle she was still in the middle of the town center hacking away at the bloody and mangled body of the Avvar Shaman she had killed with a woodsman hatchet in a raged induced rampage the night before. With nothing left for her no family except for her sister away in the circle and with no more home when she was offered a chance to train to join the ranks of the Templar Order she accepted.
Over the next fifteen years she trained as a templar and she fell right into it. It was through this process that she began to become cold and distant learning to put her morals behind her to get results. When she was 25 years old she promoted to knight corporal and when she was thirty she was promoted to Knight-Lieutenant. Her natural martial talents and a cool head built for battle added her. Some say that someday she could become a Knight-Vigilant one day if she was kept on the forward track that she was currently on. Currently though with the rising blood mage problems she was sent to the Chantry in Gwaren to investigate a strong maleficar presence there. Still young and not with many years under her belt in the order yet she was still learning always learning it was required for the mages and abominations would not stop adapting and so neither could she.
Weapons:
Standard Issue Sword and Shield provided by the Chantry
Armour:
Templar Heavy Armor
Skills:
Beside her Martial skills being who she is she has an understanding nature of the templar talents to a degree. Having not perfected them to science like Knight-Commander Graegoir but still understanding the basics.
Theme song
