Name: Flint Cadash

Age: 30

Gender: Male

Appearance: Like most Dwarfs Flint's battle scarred features are kept hidden behind a thick brownish beard that is almost always kept tied in overly elaborate brades, his grumpy pudgy pit bullish face a seemingly constant mask of weariness-the look of a man that has seen far to much of the dark side of life in Thedas. Of all his features the one that stands out most of all is the large black S shaped tattoo on his right cheek, although his crooked nose (clearly having been broken a few times) comes in at a close second. At his full height he stands at a whopping 4'11”, although his stout muscular frame looks much more intimidating while encased in his thick iron plate mail.


Nationality: N/A (Orzamar outcast)

Race: Dwarf

Organization/Occupation: Inquisition/Mercenary

Equipment: Aside from an enchanted wooden Buckler and his average looking mace Flint carries the bare essentials along with a few personal knicknacks, all of which he usually keeps bound to his back in an old leather rucksack.

Specialization: Carta “Training”

History: Born the lowest of the low in a society where position is everything Flint was quick to learn just how important standing up for himself was, a fact that lead him down a path of constant fights and run ins with the law. In his world though the fact of the matter was his family could either starve or eat off the coin he earned doing things many claimed the paragons frowned upon.

Sod the paragons.

The stone had found it fit to give Flint a hard body and soft soul, a fact that clashed with the day to day dealings of his various “jobs”. Nonetheless for eighteen long years Flint begrudgingly locked his conscience away.

After years of hard work, shady dealings, and a fair amount of blood Flint had made his way up to a position of some actual importance-at least it was an important position to the far to numerous casteless that occupied Dust Town. For almost a year things had begun to look up for Flint, serving just underneath a wicked woman named Jarvia had brought him more wealth then he had ever seen up to that point in his life-he had so much money he was even able to afford a fancy looking ring for his younger sister.

All good things must come to an end as they say though, something Flint truly took to heart after the death of Jarvia-an event that created a power vacum unseen in Dust Town for as long as Flint could remember. One thing led to another and before Flint knew it he was taking his first (and hesitant) steps onto the surface, the ensuing blood bath in Dust Town having earned him and a handful of other teary eyed dwarfs a one way ticket above ground.

Amazingly Flint was shocked to find that he took to surface life far better then he would have ever imagined, his mace and shield quickly finding him work as he was drug off on various adventures throughout his years of traveling. And even more impressive was how almost all of those large bumbling humans didn't pay any heed to his permanently tattooed face-to them he was 'just another dwarf.'

Name:
Alicia Ternemont

Age:
24

Gender:
Female

Race:
Elf

Nationality:
Antivan

Group Affiliation:
Former mage of Circle of Magi

Occupation:
Apostate

Specialization:
Spirit

Appearance:


Equipment/Weapons:
Because of the nature of her departure, Alicia couldn´t take much with herself. She traded her robe for more comfortable and less noticeable traveling clothes. She even threw away her staff in fear that people would recognize it, keeping just a few books of magical theory out of pure sentimentality.
Along with the books, she also carries a small pack of all the useful things she “gathered”, especially food and some spare clothes, and a rusty short sword to look at least a little bit dangerous.

Bio:
Alicia knows little of her past life outside the Circle and the few memories she still possess make her want to forget it entirely. She was one of the many orphans living in the alienage of Antiva City and as such, there wasn´t much she could hope for, apart from being selected as a potential Crow recruit.
Fortunately, she was spared of rough life on the streets when she accidentally set one of merchant stands on fire, with nothing but a wave of her hand. An angry mob almost lynched her, but she was saved by a group of Templars, who brought her to the Circle. There, she spent most of her life, known to be one of the brighter and more obedient apprentices, favored by both, her mentors and Templar superiors alike due to her obedient nature. Unfortunately, this obedience, along with a decent portion of naiveté, was her undoing.

There is no institution in Antiva without ties to House of Crows and circle was no exception. It was common to see strange, dangerous men seeking advice of enchanters on various esoteric topics, while the Templars turned blind eye. They were allowed to “request assistance” of younger mages and even “borrowed” one from time to time. And Alicia was one of these borrowed aids.

She was ordered to help one of Crows with assassination of a mage from Tevinter. Crows were worried about the possibility of him having some sort of magical protection and it was Alicia´s task to find and eventually break them.
The mage´s wards weren´t very powerful and Alicia was soon able to find a gap in his defenses, although she wasn´t exactly pleased about it. She knew what was going on. The Crows were discreet, but they surely weren´t secret and Alicia, though naïve, knew exactly what were they going to do. And the feeling that she was helping a bunch of murderers to kill an innocent man was tearing her apart.

And so, when the right time came to strike and Crows prepared their ambush, Alicia decided to intervene. Before the leader of Crows could give his final order, Alicia ran from her hiding, warning the mage.

What followed was a nightmare coming true as the Tevinter bodyguards clashed with assassins and though they were outnumbered, the mage made all the difference. It appeared that his defenses were nothing compared to his offensive abilities and terrified Alicia could only watch as he boiled man alive and then ordered his comrade to stab another one, laughing as he did it.
The sight broke Alicia. She just ruined her life to save a blood mage? Her fear turned to anger and she decided to correct her previous mistake and employed all her powers to crush him, before his foul magic could do anymore harm.

In the end, Alicia was the only one left standing, even if just barely. But the whole thing was far from being done. She couldn´t return back to the Circle, for the Crows would immediately found and killed her. She had to run, somewhere far away from Antiva. And so, Alicia left her homeland with no idea what to do and with only a little bit of coin she managed to loot from the bodies.
Hopefully, she will find a decent place to hide in.

Name: Saarebas

Age: 18

Gender: Male

Race: Qunari

Nationality: Born on Par Vollen, Relocated to Seheron

Group Affiliation: Tal-Vashoth

Occupation: Bandit, Learner

Appearance:
There are two stubs where his first pair of small horns had grown out, worn down nearly flat, just behind his current pair of horns. The youth stands at five foot ten inches, his eyes are gold, and for qunari he is rather slender.


Equipment/Weapons:
Blindfold - like a falcon wears a hood to stay calm, preserve their vision for the job they are assigned to do, and make them easier to handle…so too does this Saarebas, except with a blindfold. Usually seen wearing it, and moving around alright in combat, though he's oft seen tripping over things in camp.
Light Armour - quick movements with a lighter load.
Shock Collar - the primal electricity is conducted by the metal, the effect of electric based passive attacks are amplified slightly.

Bio: Born and raised communally by the Tamassran on Par Vollen, like so many others, his mind was to live under the Qun. With many of the testing before age twelve, when roles would be decided, most options came off the table at the early signs of magic. Instead of possible Asshad, the young Qunari boy became Saarebas. Living a number of hard years leashed by an Arvaarad, training and being treated as a dangerous thing...after relocating to Seheron, having his first pair of horns cut off, and the possibility of having his tongue taken next, his forbidden desire for freedom started to grow. And it would come, in the form of a Tal-Vashoth raid.

The device oft used against him destroyed in the chaos, the Arvaarad killed and his corpse burned in a pile with the rest…this Saarebas conceded to become a part of the group, later leaving it with a respected member to the formation of a new bandit clan.

Name: Alarand
Age: 26

Gender: Male

Race: Elf

Nationality: Orlesian

Group Affiliation: Inquisition

Occupation: Mercenary
Specialization: Reaver
Appearance:


Equipment/Weapons:




Bio:

Age:
25.

Gender:
Female.

Race:
Human.

Nationality:
Ferelden, from the Frostback Mountains.

Occupation:
Templar ambassador to the Grey Wardens.

Equipment:
- [Full Templar armor and attire, with a winged helmet and varied robes to indicate rank.]
- [A large Templar kite shield accompanied by a dwarven-crafted Templar officer longsword: a parting gift bought for him by his prior platoon of Templars before he moved on to become the Templar Ambassador to the Grey Wardens.]
- [A Templar's lyrium kit, with the wooden carving hollowed out to conceal lyrium sand.]

Biography:
Clara Almeida was born in the mid-upper regions of the Frostback Mountains located to the east side of Ferelden, where her family had been a part of a semi-isolationist village which traded extensively with Redcliffe Village, providing unique meats and spices from the mountain in exchange for commodities such as warm clothes and crops produce that couldn't be grown in the three-season snow. At the time of Clara's birth the village was at the tail end of poverty and hardship as significant illness had struck its residents, in turn preventing them from hunting and hence trading for essential supplies; the chain of events continued until the village was left entirely with the sick and lame. After a failed attempt at helping the village by a group of volunteers from Redcliffe Village, the volunteers pleaded their case to the local Chantry, who investigated the matter and concluded that little could be done in such a late stage. The Chantry sect decided to save who they could, and took all those who could survive the trek down the mountain or could be carried, such as infants; luckily enough, Clara was once such infant.

Clara, orphaned after the passing of her village when she was no older than 7 months old, recalls her first memories within the walls of the Redcliffe Chantry. She never knew her family and frankly wasn't really bothered by it, partly because she never knew any better and partly because she was treated well by the religious brothers and sisters. Although she was considered to be put up for adoption, her hardy constitution and natural physical prowess deriving from generations of her family being from the mountains made her an ideal candidate for the Templar Order, and as such the chantry retained her as a Sister until she could be assessed at a more appropriate age.

At 16 years of age, Clara was formally underwent an aptitude assessment for the Templar Order, and having had her life to prepare for it plus her natural perks, she passed with flying colors. She was inducted to the order and began training for her to commence her service at her coming of age. Over the next 9 years of her service, Clara grew to become an excellent warrior and promising leader, which lead to her promotion to Knight-Corporal on grounds of merit and later Knight-Lieutenant on grounds of merit and the outbreak of the war, where she was given command of a platoon to contribute to the war effort. Throughout her career Clara showed unflinching loyalty to the Order: this contributed significantly to her merit, for a Templar's obedience was more important than anything else; although all of her achievements concealed something sinister, a near-crippling addiction to lyrium which took her as far as regularly snorting lyrium sand on top of standard ingestion in order to avoid withdrawals. Clara experiences significant withdrawals when denied lyrium and if denied it entirely for long enough, there's quite a daunting chance of it leading to her death. As of current she acknowledges her addiction and expresses a desire to prevent it getting worse, but she has no intent to begin taking less lyrium.

Recently, after a successful streak of leading her platoon in the war, Clara was reassigned as an ambassador for the Templar Order to the Grey Wardens. Command for the Templar Order recently and reluctantly concluded that such a means was necessary in order to preserve good relations with the wardens contribute to the good of the realm, on the grounds the ambassador would not flinch in their duties to rid the realm of the likes of apostates and abominations. Clara was nominated for the job by her Knight-Captain and later accepted, on the grounds of her outstanding service record, her unflinching loyalty to the Order, her suitable personality, and her severe lyrium addiction which would be used to manipulate her need be. When the news was broke to her platoon, the platoon contributed minor portions of their pay individually to collectively buy a dwarven-crafted officers longsword for their leaving platoon commander as a parting gift, which now acts as her sword of choice.

Clara now journeys with the Grey Warden Nolan Halwic, who was the next best thing to a perfect partner: a Mage who respected the need to rid the world of abominations conducting peacekeeping operations in sensitive areas. The two get along well, going about peacekeeping - in war-affected areas in particular - with Clara acting as the primary liaison to the Templars and Nolan as the primary liaison to the Mages.