@SaarebasI'm just seeing Sten with his little puppy dog eyes when you talk about cookies here :P
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Leos Klien A gun to kill the past.
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
CrystalCHTriple
Banned
Seen
8 yrs ago
-
Side note I am looking for a Co-Gm, any takers? I just want a co-captain so we don't sink at launch
I don't have much in terms of lore knowledge, but I'm in if you'd take me.
GM
Saarebas Wandering Wild Magic Fanatic
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
@Leos Klien Indeed Sten has his moments of pure cookie greatness.
But he also have moments like this that I hold even more dear.
@CrystalCHTriple Seems like an incredibly interesting character, just want to clear some things up before I give you the green light. I get that he is a Rivaini mage that was sent to Tevinter by his parents to avoid the harshness of the south, I actually really like the angle, but was his brother a Templar down in the south or up in Tevinter? Did his family come along with him to Tevinter because that is the feeling I got from reading about his Grandfather passing.
Honestly all this stuff is just stuff I was wondering about, Rili is great and you are good to go, feel free to post him in the CS tab =)
As for a second character I will have to say no for now just because we have so many people already, if our numbers lower then that may change though.
@KRIEEEG I can handle the lore my friend *hides the shamefully large amount of lore books* I am prepared! But seriously though it would be great to have someone to spitball ideas with.
But he also have moments like this that I hold even more dear.
@CrystalCHTriple Seems like an incredibly interesting character, just want to clear some things up before I give you the green light. I get that he is a Rivaini mage that was sent to Tevinter by his parents to avoid the harshness of the south, I actually really like the angle, but was his brother a Templar down in the south or up in Tevinter? Did his family come along with him to Tevinter because that is the feeling I got from reading about his Grandfather passing.
Honestly all this stuff is just stuff I was wondering about, Rili is great and you are good to go, feel free to post him in the CS tab =)
As for a second character I will have to say no for now just because we have so many people already, if our numbers lower then that may change though.
@KRIEEEG I can handle the lore my friend *hides the shamefully large amount of lore books* I am prepared! But seriously though it would be great to have someone to spitball ideas with.
2x Laugh
Leos Klien A gun to kill the past.
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
@SaarebasIf it's alright with you, I'm tempted to do brothers - it will be a new challenge and aspect for me that which I've never roleplayed.
Here is the one with a bit of a dark spot - the bruiser is a bit more light heated - I've made this guy for another Dragon age Roleplay, so it should fit.
Background:
It's arguable, but there is a point in life when one can say it truly started, some would say on day conception, others the day you were born, and then - maybe some time down the line, when you hit a pivotal moment and your life truly begins.
For Mireth'Ren, the latter is very much the case.
His early years are what to be expected of an average Dalish elf that was found with magical affinity, it went a couple of ways, one - sent to another clan if an apprentice to the current keeper already existed, two sent away to the circles lest they be hunted down by Templars and finally, the best option out of the three, and ultimately, the one Mireth fell into was that they became the apprentice to the Keeper of the clan.
The way in how this came about wasn't exactly pretty, but it had nothing to do with Mireth - for the time being, his young self was far from the thing he became, when his life truly started.
The Dales is a peaceful and vibrant area of land, and whilst no form of war is being waged upon its ancient soils its a place that one can have a long peaceful life, bandits and marauding bands of nomads weren't overly common, but it was frequent enough to warrant caution when you were alone, a defensible position was always needed lest some opportunistic Shems try their luck against the Dalish camp, not unheard of given the way elves were treated in Orlais, or rather how Elves were treated in general.
During his time as apprentice to the keeper Mireth spent a great deal of time exploring the ancient elven ruins, as well the burial sites that littered the plains, it was once apart of the Elven homeland, it made sense that it would be brimming with lore and secrets that only real Dalish elves knew how to discover.
He specifically became infatuated with their pantheon, and out of all of them, the dread wolf - Fen'Harel, how one being, God or not - trick all the others into being banished for eternity, was beyond him - he needed to understand, he wanted to know just what could be able to trick the gods themselves into oblivion - or more correctly, somewhere beyond the fade.
His ‘obsession’ as it was labelled by others, was not exactly regarded in the fondest of lights, the elves would never deter their brothers and sisters from exploring the secrets and lore of the Elvhen, but being so fanatically determined to learn more about the Dread wolf was looked at skeptically.
His research and expeditions far afield, even at a young age yielded knowledge to him, most of which he shared to the clan - although some, he did not.
This was the start, from another pair of eyes, at which Mireth began to change, it was slow and gradual, not perceivable at first; in fact it was not perceivable for a very long time only when one looks back can they note the beginning of what became.
Mireth’s passage into adulthood was met with the standard procedure of receiving the Vallasin, and he succeeded in passing the ritual in silence, despite the pain; hardly uncommon but noteworthy amongst his peers - a small redeeming factor given his infatuation with the dread wolf.
Mireth must have been half way through his apprenticeship learning from the keeper, so at the fairly young age of 45 when an event, that is what is regarded when his life truly began occured.
Since they had made their home in the dales for quite a long time - years to be precise, the locals were getting the idea that the ‘knife ears’ had found a piece of land to call their own, not that such a thought or act would ever be permitted, the war with the Qunari was over and the people in local area were looking for some new fight to pick.
These homey elves, were a very nice target, not that success was something they could call the events that transpired the end resulted in the dalish encampment being almost completely destroyed and almost every elf killed, but the numbers lost for the humans was far greater - sieging a well protected encampment, filled with experienced and well trained warriors and a powerful mage was bordering suicide, but through sheer numbers, and a band of chevaliers they prevailed, a victory in the eyes of the Orlesians, but no doubt something that history books would neglect to ever mention.
Not that any historian could have possibly anticipated what one of the survivors would become - a threat to the human world is truly an understatement, during the fight, a haunting image of an elven mage using blood magic was burnt into the surviving shems minds, only to be one day killed by the very elf that they thought to be finally dead.
His quest for vengeance was not pretty, every time he found one of the culprits, via knowledge sold by the carta and disgruntled nobles whom would benefit from the lack of a certain nobles son, then he would murder them bloodily, using blood magic to boil them from the inside out, he would kill their family members in front of their eyes, just like they had done to him - he’d summon demons to play with the wives of the men, before rending their flesh from their bodies.
Mireth spent countless hours, and sleepless nights devising new and ingenious ways to make his enemies suffer.
His mind has never deviated from this since, in his eyes all humans are the same monsters, their hearts blacker than the taint of the darkspawn.
Because a great deal of lives were claimed by him over the space of 10 years in his quest for vengeance Mireth quickly left the Orlaisen lands, spending a great deal of his time exploring the Emerald Graves instead, he spent a great deal of his time here, collecting lore and practising his magic, of course this meant that some unfortunate souls who stumbled across him were lost forever.
His transition from Orlais to Ferelden wasn’t easy, two completely separate cultures and different people altogether, Mireth had done this after the war that had Ferelden under the boot of the empire, so travelling to and fro was considerably easier than it had previously been.
To be perfectly honest, so long as he didn’t mention that he was from Orlais, which he never truly regarded himself to be from as it was, then he didn’t receive that much scorn, or at least not as much as he was suspecting.
Skills: Knows how to perform the ritual and act of “Vallasin”, has impeccable fletching skills, he can work a piece of wood into many constructs, but of course, arrows, staves, shields are the most prominent out of these.
Has extensive knowledge in general survivability skills, he knows how to hunt, prepare meat, forage, make fires (without magic - that be cheating), fish, trap, track and a liturgy of other things that have been taught to him by his clans hunters.
Also has a fairly extensive knowledge in Herablism.
Spells: Mireth has a proficiency in lightning based magic, as well as hexs and blood magic.
His main aim is to debilitate the enemy, to wound and hound them, weakening them so he can deal with them in a more personal manner once they are unable to fight.
However, when faced with large groups of enemies he switches to magic that can kill quickly and deal damage in large areas, with is mainly Hemorrhage or some fire based magic.
Here is the one with a bit of a dark spot - the bruiser is a bit more light heated - I've made this guy for another Dragon age Roleplay, so it should fit.
"Mireth'Ren"
"The brighter the light; the darker the shadow- and at the centre of that perilous abyss, lies the heart of man."
Male Dalish Elf | 142 - Born 7:89 Storm | Sanguinem Magus
Basic Information:
Place of Origin:The Dales.
Appearance: Don't let Mireth's appearance deceive you, his face may be spotless, his eyes warm and soft, his hair glistening and well groomed, his voice calm and collected. What he appears to say and and the way he says it, the way he looks; all of it - A lie.
To the well trained eye, and especially to those who know who he truly is, they will note the undertone of contempt in his words, they can see the malicious spark in his eyes and the murderous intent behind his kind smile.
Humans, are ever so easy to deceive with a pretty picture, but beauty is quite possibly the most deadliest thing about him his very body; a lure for the unsuspecting fish.
He is sleek and slender in build, as most elves are - his frame light and fragile, but fast and mobile, he also stands at roughly 5'2, average height for most elves, if not slightly smaller.
One must remember though, all of it is fleeting as the wind when the curtains fall, and reveal his true nature behind the painted glass.
What is perhaps most notable about this elf, is the lack of the 'Vallaslin', or blood writing upon his face, there is a reason for this but it is one that he has never shared with anyone, nor will he.
Appearance: Don't let Mireth's appearance deceive you, his face may be spotless, his eyes warm and soft, his hair glistening and well groomed, his voice calm and collected. What he appears to say and and the way he says it, the way he looks; all of it - A lie.
To the well trained eye, and especially to those who know who he truly is, they will note the undertone of contempt in his words, they can see the malicious spark in his eyes and the murderous intent behind his kind smile.
Humans, are ever so easy to deceive with a pretty picture, but beauty is quite possibly the most deadliest thing about him his very body; a lure for the unsuspecting fish.
He is sleek and slender in build, as most elves are - his frame light and fragile, but fast and mobile, he also stands at roughly 5'2, average height for most elves, if not slightly smaller.
One must remember though, all of it is fleeting as the wind when the curtains fall, and reveal his true nature behind the painted glass.
What is perhaps most notable about this elf, is the lack of the 'Vallaslin', or blood writing upon his face, there is a reason for this but it is one that he has never shared with anyone, nor will he.
Background:
It's arguable, but there is a point in life when one can say it truly started, some would say on day conception, others the day you were born, and then - maybe some time down the line, when you hit a pivotal moment and your life truly begins.
For Mireth'Ren, the latter is very much the case.
His early years are what to be expected of an average Dalish elf that was found with magical affinity, it went a couple of ways, one - sent to another clan if an apprentice to the current keeper already existed, two sent away to the circles lest they be hunted down by Templars and finally, the best option out of the three, and ultimately, the one Mireth fell into was that they became the apprentice to the Keeper of the clan.
The way in how this came about wasn't exactly pretty, but it had nothing to do with Mireth - for the time being, his young self was far from the thing he became, when his life truly started.
The Dales is a peaceful and vibrant area of land, and whilst no form of war is being waged upon its ancient soils its a place that one can have a long peaceful life, bandits and marauding bands of nomads weren't overly common, but it was frequent enough to warrant caution when you were alone, a defensible position was always needed lest some opportunistic Shems try their luck against the Dalish camp, not unheard of given the way elves were treated in Orlais, or rather how Elves were treated in general.
During his time as apprentice to the keeper Mireth spent a great deal of time exploring the ancient elven ruins, as well the burial sites that littered the plains, it was once apart of the Elven homeland, it made sense that it would be brimming with lore and secrets that only real Dalish elves knew how to discover.
He specifically became infatuated with their pantheon, and out of all of them, the dread wolf - Fen'Harel, how one being, God or not - trick all the others into being banished for eternity, was beyond him - he needed to understand, he wanted to know just what could be able to trick the gods themselves into oblivion - or more correctly, somewhere beyond the fade.
His ‘obsession’ as it was labelled by others, was not exactly regarded in the fondest of lights, the elves would never deter their brothers and sisters from exploring the secrets and lore of the Elvhen, but being so fanatically determined to learn more about the Dread wolf was looked at skeptically.
His research and expeditions far afield, even at a young age yielded knowledge to him, most of which he shared to the clan - although some, he did not.
This was the start, from another pair of eyes, at which Mireth began to change, it was slow and gradual, not perceivable at first; in fact it was not perceivable for a very long time only when one looks back can they note the beginning of what became.
Mireth’s passage into adulthood was met with the standard procedure of receiving the Vallasin, and he succeeded in passing the ritual in silence, despite the pain; hardly uncommon but noteworthy amongst his peers - a small redeeming factor given his infatuation with the dread wolf.
Mireth must have been half way through his apprenticeship learning from the keeper, so at the fairly young age of 45 when an event, that is what is regarded when his life truly began occured.
Since they had made their home in the dales for quite a long time - years to be precise, the locals were getting the idea that the ‘knife ears’ had found a piece of land to call their own, not that such a thought or act would ever be permitted, the war with the Qunari was over and the people in local area were looking for some new fight to pick.
These homey elves, were a very nice target, not that success was something they could call the events that transpired the end resulted in the dalish encampment being almost completely destroyed and almost every elf killed, but the numbers lost for the humans was far greater - sieging a well protected encampment, filled with experienced and well trained warriors and a powerful mage was bordering suicide, but through sheer numbers, and a band of chevaliers they prevailed, a victory in the eyes of the Orlesians, but no doubt something that history books would neglect to ever mention.
Not that any historian could have possibly anticipated what one of the survivors would become - a threat to the human world is truly an understatement, during the fight, a haunting image of an elven mage using blood magic was burnt into the surviving shems minds, only to be one day killed by the very elf that they thought to be finally dead.
His quest for vengeance was not pretty, every time he found one of the culprits, via knowledge sold by the carta and disgruntled nobles whom would benefit from the lack of a certain nobles son, then he would murder them bloodily, using blood magic to boil them from the inside out, he would kill their family members in front of their eyes, just like they had done to him - he’d summon demons to play with the wives of the men, before rending their flesh from their bodies.
Mireth spent countless hours, and sleepless nights devising new and ingenious ways to make his enemies suffer.
His mind has never deviated from this since, in his eyes all humans are the same monsters, their hearts blacker than the taint of the darkspawn.
Because a great deal of lives were claimed by him over the space of 10 years in his quest for vengeance Mireth quickly left the Orlaisen lands, spending a great deal of his time exploring the Emerald Graves instead, he spent a great deal of his time here, collecting lore and practising his magic, of course this meant that some unfortunate souls who stumbled across him were lost forever.
His transition from Orlais to Ferelden wasn’t easy, two completely separate cultures and different people altogether, Mireth had done this after the war that had Ferelden under the boot of the empire, so travelling to and fro was considerably easier than it had previously been.
To be perfectly honest, so long as he didn’t mention that he was from Orlais, which he never truly regarded himself to be from as it was, then he didn’t receive that much scorn, or at least not as much as he was suspecting.
Personality
Mireth’Ren has two personalities, some would say, but in reality it’s only one, that simply takes a drastic turn when the curtain falls.
When “on stage” Mireth is kind, courteous, upstanding, honourable and almost cheerful, if not slightly stoic.
When “off stage” or when someone interrupts his performance, then his true nature shows, sadistic, violent, dishonourable and strives to achieve his kill - killing for this elf, is an art and he strives to perfect that art.
They’re exceptions to this mostly general rule, however, Mireth is generally openly hostile and rude to humans, or shems as he will always call them, sometimes he begrudgingly accepts that some of them are worthy of respect, but one must go to terrible lengths to earn that compliment - otherwise he will chide them, tell them to leave him be, or to go fornicate with an iron rod, wardens do earn some leniency from him, assuming they don’t refer to elves in derogatory terms and look down upon them.
Elves, assuming they are Dalish earn his immediate respect, and will talk to them kindly and offer his help as oft as he can, city elves, however don’t get this, they must earn it - he cannot blame them for their parents decisions; a slight note of hypocrisy here, however he will not outright bestow upon them his respect.
It’s fair to say that he has few friends, but that has never bothered him - do note however, if you can look past all of his flaws that eventually he will come to like you if you persevere long enough through the torrents of wrongs and hate you may be receive - he is steadfast and loyal to the end to those he cares about.
He will sacrifice almost everything to save you, but the price for this; is steep.
Mireth’Ren has two personalities, some would say, but in reality it’s only one, that simply takes a drastic turn when the curtain falls.
When “on stage” Mireth is kind, courteous, upstanding, honourable and almost cheerful, if not slightly stoic.
When “off stage” or when someone interrupts his performance, then his true nature shows, sadistic, violent, dishonourable and strives to achieve his kill - killing for this elf, is an art and he strives to perfect that art.
They’re exceptions to this mostly general rule, however, Mireth is generally openly hostile and rude to humans, or shems as he will always call them, sometimes he begrudgingly accepts that some of them are worthy of respect, but one must go to terrible lengths to earn that compliment - otherwise he will chide them, tell them to leave him be, or to go fornicate with an iron rod, wardens do earn some leniency from him, assuming they don’t refer to elves in derogatory terms and look down upon them.
Elves, assuming they are Dalish earn his immediate respect, and will talk to them kindly and offer his help as oft as he can, city elves, however don’t get this, they must earn it - he cannot blame them for their parents decisions; a slight note of hypocrisy here, however he will not outright bestow upon them his respect.
It’s fair to say that he has few friends, but that has never bothered him - do note however, if you can look past all of his flaws that eventually he will come to like you if you persevere long enough through the torrents of wrongs and hate you may be receive - he is steadfast and loyal to the end to those he cares about.
He will sacrifice almost everything to save you, but the price for this; is steep.
Capabilities:
Skills: Knows how to perform the ritual and act of “Vallasin”, has impeccable fletching skills, he can work a piece of wood into many constructs, but of course, arrows, staves, shields are the most prominent out of these.
Has extensive knowledge in general survivability skills, he knows how to hunt, prepare meat, forage, make fires (without magic - that be cheating), fish, trap, track and a liturgy of other things that have been taught to him by his clans hunters.
Also has a fairly extensive knowledge in Herablism.
Spells: Mireth has a proficiency in lightning based magic, as well as hexs and blood magic.
His main aim is to debilitate the enemy, to wound and hound them, weakening them so he can deal with them in a more personal manner once they are unable to fight.
However, when faced with large groups of enemies he switches to magic that can kill quickly and deal damage in large areas, with is mainly Hemorrhage or some fire based magic.
Inventory:
Cash:12 sovereigns and a small pouch of change.
Clothing and Armor: Mireth wears an ancient keepers robe, it is notable aged yet despite this the stitching and intricate patterns that adorn it remain almost perfect as the day they were first crafted, he doesn’t wear shoes and travels the land barefoot, although he is no fool, he keeps a permanent mini barrier around the soles of his feet protecting them from the elements.
The robe is magically imbueded and grants the wearer significant nature resistance and willpower.
Weapon
A handcrafted stave, made from ironbark, it is unique in that it has an unusual staff blade at the bottom, the wood and the blade are fused together as if it were originally part of the wood that was used in the crafting, this is to increase the ease of blood magic, and close range offensive combat, the staff end is a large blue crystal, jagged and altogether ominous in its appearance
Fear this staff, it has claimed the lives of many an unsuspecting foe.
Potions and Arcane Supplies: Various healing and lyrium potions, also carries a few grenades procured from a wandering alchemist, they unleash waths of furling fire upon those caught in its blast radius, used in emergencies only.
Jewelry and Novelty Items: A small band from his keeper’s body, purely sentimental, otherwise nothing of note.
Books and Documents: Various documents on elvhen lore, as well as numerous sketchings of Fen’harel and elven runes.
And a journal, that contains a large list of names that have crossed out in what appears to be red ink.
Food, Drinks, Provisions: A few portions of dried and salted meat - Mireth doesn’t eat much and can go exceptional lengths of time with out food.
A carton for water.
Bags, Pouches, Packs: Various pouches containing things like salt, herbs, lyrium dust, and other various useable items, mostly for cooking or in the use of crafting potions.
Other:Quill - Carving knife, fletching knife, a silver ceremonial knife - all three are in their own scabbards tied around his thigh.
Clothing and Armor: Mireth wears an ancient keepers robe, it is notable aged yet despite this the stitching and intricate patterns that adorn it remain almost perfect as the day they were first crafted, he doesn’t wear shoes and travels the land barefoot, although he is no fool, he keeps a permanent mini barrier around the soles of his feet protecting them from the elements.
The robe is magically imbueded and grants the wearer significant nature resistance and willpower.
Weapon
A handcrafted stave, made from ironbark, it is unique in that it has an unusual staff blade at the bottom, the wood and the blade are fused together as if it were originally part of the wood that was used in the crafting, this is to increase the ease of blood magic, and close range offensive combat, the staff end is a large blue crystal, jagged and altogether ominous in its appearance
Fear this staff, it has claimed the lives of many an unsuspecting foe.
Potions and Arcane Supplies: Various healing and lyrium potions, also carries a few grenades procured from a wandering alchemist, they unleash waths of furling fire upon those caught in its blast radius, used in emergencies only.
Jewelry and Novelty Items: A small band from his keeper’s body, purely sentimental, otherwise nothing of note.
Books and Documents: Various documents on elvhen lore, as well as numerous sketchings of Fen’harel and elven runes.
And a journal, that contains a large list of names that have crossed out in what appears to be red ink.
Food, Drinks, Provisions: A few portions of dried and salted meat - Mireth doesn’t eat much and can go exceptional lengths of time with out food.
A carton for water.
Bags, Pouches, Packs: Various pouches containing things like salt, herbs, lyrium dust, and other various useable items, mostly for cooking or in the use of crafting potions.
Other:Quill - Carving knife, fletching knife, a silver ceremonial knife - all three are in their own scabbards tied around his thigh.
GM
Saarebas Wandering Wild Magic Fanatic
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
@Leos Klien Great character but a few things:
1) He is a bit... old. Elves, well elves now anyways, age basically the same way as humans so him being 142 is kind of odd.
2) Can you be a little more specific with his abilities, pick six. I know it sucks to limit yourself, but since we have so many people it will help prevent people from overlapping and feeling unneeded
3) I am going to have to say no to the brother as of the moment everyone is only getting a single character since we have so much interest.
4) I really do love the dark nature of the character, really gives a good contrast to the other characters, but just remember the guild rules, take the really serious "gruesome" stuff to the PMs
Over all I love the characters, just address these things and you should be good.
1) He is a bit... old. Elves, well elves now anyways, age basically the same way as humans so him being 142 is kind of odd.
2) Can you be a little more specific with his abilities, pick six. I know it sucks to limit yourself, but since we have so many people it will help prevent people from overlapping and feeling unneeded
3) I am going to have to say no to the brother as of the moment everyone is only getting a single character since we have so much interest.
4) I really do love the dark nature of the character, really gives a good contrast to the other characters, but just remember the guild rules, take the really serious "gruesome" stuff to the PMs
Over all I love the characters, just address these things and you should be good.
CrystalCHTriple
Banned
Seen
8 yrs ago
@Saarebas
His parents remained in Wycome. He received the letter of his grandfather's condition after it had worsened (postage in DA could use some dwarven horseless carriages) and could not get there in enough time, hence him going to Rivain before returning to Tevinter, and his brother is a templar in the Free Marches. Although, having his parents move to Tevinter may add a layer to the tension between him and his brother. May change that.
His parents remained in Wycome. He received the letter of his grandfather's condition after it had worsened (postage in DA could use some dwarven horseless carriages) and could not get there in enough time, hence him going to Rivain before returning to Tevinter, and his brother is a templar in the Free Marches. Although, having his parents move to Tevinter may add a layer to the tension between him and his brother. May change that.
GM
Saarebas Wandering Wild Magic Fanatic
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
@CrystalCHTriple Got it, thanks for clearing that up for me =)
Leos Klien A gun to kill the past.
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
@SaarebasActually according to the lore available the ageing of elves is far past that of humans, but no where near their ancestors - they live generally to the age of 200 and anything above is the result of magic keeping life going.
But anyway, since it's a no to the brother which I don't mind, I won't use this character and instead make myself a new one ^_^
But anyway, since it's a no to the brother which I don't mind, I won't use this character and instead make myself a new one ^_^
Well, I started a CS. However I am way too sick and tired to finish it today. I'll do it tomorrow.
Still trying to finish, no time at work at all. Well, at least I got some self heals (bunch of selfish mages)
Name
Guthrak. No known surname.
Age
47-ish. Nobody is quite sure.
Gender
Manliest Male Alive
Race
Human
Class/Specialization
Warrior/Reaver
Appearance
Abilities
Warrior
Taunt:
(active)
By shouting insults and profanities, Guthrak catches the attention of his ennemies, drawing aggro for himself.
Shield Bash:
(active)
Guthrak's shield can be used to bash his enemies. If the bash connects, the enemy is knocked down.
Indomitable:
(passive)
Through massive amounts of willpower and an overly strong body, Guthrak cannot be knocked down, knocked back or stunned.
Reaver
Rampage:
(active)
Channeling his inner fury, the Reaver becomes a devasting force, dealing bonus damage with his attacks, attacking faster and healing each time an enemy is hit.
Scenting Blood:
(passive)
The smell of blood drives Guthrak in a frenzied state, granting him extra speed and chance to score critical hits.
Devour:
(active)
Guthrak hits an enemy, not only hitting his body, but also reaching into its soul and absorbing part of its life energy, healing himself and dealing extra damage based on how wounded he is.
Origin
Disclaimer: Pardon the shittiness of the text, I absolutely hate writting backgrounds and wrote this particular one while sick. It's not pretty.
tl;dr - Guthrak never met his parents. Was raised by the Chantry to become a Templar, but he screwed it by sneaking out frequently. He then was fooled by a Disciple of Andraste into becoming a Reaver. Disgusted with himself he fled once again, going for a somewhat big city, where he lived the next couple decades as a fighter. Until one day his curse manifested itself and made him kill a man to save his own life. The city thought he was a demon, and he was thrown out with almost none of his belongings. Hearing rummors of a crew being formed in the litoral, he decided to join it.
Personality
Guthrak is a generally happy fellow. So much happened to him that he created a thick skin for problems. With that said, he's also not the kind of person to take disrespects lightly. With his slightly crazed personality, one can never really know if he's going to laugh from a mockery or punch you in the face for it.
Despite his usual good mood, he carries a great regret for his choices in life and is still seeking a way to repair all his mistakes.
By the end of the day, he's a brute with a hearth of gold.
Other
Guthrak fighting style is unconventional, to say the least. Despite his early training with swords, maces and shields, he grew used to fighting with his bare hands during his life. This led to a weird mix of styles: He fights with no weapons beside his fists, with all the violence and brutality that a fist fight requires, however he still uses a shield against armed enemies, using it both as a defensive tool and as an oversised knucke. An experient observer might notice some martiality to the way he fights, legacy of his early training as a soon to become Templar.
Despite the fact that he does not use any weapons, he's still fond of heavy armor. Being able to move in one with little to no problems. On the other hand, all armor he wears must be either be intended for a taller race or specifically tailored for him.
Guthrak. No known surname.
Age
47-ish. Nobody is quite sure.
Gender
Manliest Male Alive
Race
Human
Class/Specialization
Warrior/Reaver
Appearance
Abilities
Warrior
Taunt:
(active)
By shouting insults and profanities, Guthrak catches the attention of his ennemies, drawing aggro for himself.
Shield Bash:
(active)
Guthrak's shield can be used to bash his enemies. If the bash connects, the enemy is knocked down.
Indomitable:
(passive)
Through massive amounts of willpower and an overly strong body, Guthrak cannot be knocked down, knocked back or stunned.
Reaver
Rampage:
(active)
Channeling his inner fury, the Reaver becomes a devasting force, dealing bonus damage with his attacks, attacking faster and healing each time an enemy is hit.
Scenting Blood:
(passive)
The smell of blood drives Guthrak in a frenzied state, granting him extra speed and chance to score critical hits.
Devour:
(active)
Guthrak hits an enemy, not only hitting his body, but also reaching into its soul and absorbing part of its life energy, healing himself and dealing extra damage based on how wounded he is.
Origin
Disclaimer: Pardon the shittiness of the text, I absolutely hate writting backgrounds and wrote this particular one while sick. It's not pretty.
Guthrak never met his family. According to the priest who rose him, he was left in the way of a Chantry's caravan when he was about two years old. According to that same priest, one should also carry garlic into its boots to avoid infections, so he's not exactly a reliable source of information.
The origins of Guthrak's name are well known: when found by the caravan, a note was resting on his chest. It read:
"This is Guthrak. A baby with a name as ugly as his face. He's your problem now."
Guthrak had a better life than most born into his situation could afford to desire. He had hot meals everyday, he taught to read, and he had a bed to sleep at night. The priests would even tell him bedtime stories. They told him of many things, most of which he cared little about and quickly forgot. He probably forgot all but one: they Grey Wardens. The mythical warriors of legends, who ended Blights, who would charge into battle ridding magnificent beasts and who would always do whatever it took to finish a job. He imagined himself in their armor, walking among their ranks. It became his dream.
Despite his better than expected treatment, Guthrak and the Chantry's members didn't had a warm relationship. He was treated respectifully, but always coldly, as if talking to him was a formality people around him were forced to follow. However, he noticed that they acted like this among themselves, therefore it wasn't personal.
The one thing he enjoyed was his training. Due to his way above the average stature, he was put into guard duty quite early, with only twelve years of age. With it came an used set of heavy armor and a nice metal shield. Both showed heavy sings of use, the armor looked particularly old, and seemed to have been worn by more than a few guards before him, while the shield's only sing of being worn were a mark from what was probably an axe that hit it a bit too hard, leaving a big notch dead in the center.
The years passed and changed Guthrak. When he was fourteen, he'd look like an adult already. Mostly due to his thick build and heavy facial hair. At fifteen he was besting most older guards in combat and on his way to being a templar, the next best things after being a grey Warden. At this same age, he started to sneak out of the chantry and visit the city, where he had his first contacts with alcohol, bar fights and women.
When he was seventeen, the priests found him sneaking out and his deviant ways of life, thus granting that he would never be chosen to become a templar.
His world collapsed. He never enjoyed the Chantry, but becoming a Templar was the closest he could ever get of being a Grey Warden. In a mix of despair and rage, he fled. He took with him what he could: the armor and the shield.
Two years passed as he did his best to survive. Which was mostly keeping the order in taverns and inns. He quickly grew too big to fit in his old armor. He also couldn't live in rented inn rooms for the rest of his life. He needed money and needed it now.
When heading out to the sales district to sell his old armor, he found out about a fight club. The payment from the fights itself weren't that better than his bar job, but the possibility to bet on himself was just to good to let go. He sold his armor, probably for a value much lower than deserved, went into the fight club and put everything on himself.
Unsurprizingly, he won all of his fights in the first night. His strenght combined with his youth and years of pratice put him way above the level his of his oponents. With a considerably big sum of money, he did what every nineteen years old would: headed to the closest tavern, to where he was followed by an old man.
The old man started a conversation with the drunken Guthrak. He praised his fighting skills, joked about his oponents, bought him some drinks and started to talk about the past. Soon Guthrak was rambling on how he left the Chantry, how he missed his opportunity of becoming a Templar and how he wished to redeem himself. The old man grinnedand told him there was a way to bring him back into Andraste's grace.
Drunken Guthrak gladly followed him into a temple. Gadly he said the vows. Gladly he drank the blood. Fooled by the Disciples of Andraste, he was now a Reaver.
Much happened after drinking the blood. Denial, fear, anger. All of that led Guthrak to flee out of another temple, leaving behind all his belongings, including his money. He became a wanderer. Going from city to city making money as body guard, mercenary, pit fighter or whatever else he could find.
Eventually he settled on a big city, in which he became a famous pit fighter. He was able to afford a small house, his food, drinks and eventually women to warm his bed at night. But nothing would be able to wash his conscience of how he corrupted himself.
Many years passed. He was nearing old age and yet was still stronger than many young adults on the peak of their development. He was still the champion of the pit, until he found an oponent at his level. An old soldier, worn out by countless battles. His body would lead you to believe the soldier was in his early 20's, but his face would show that the man was much older. Perhabs older than Guthrak himself.
The fight was though. Neither would give up their ground. No failures were forgiven by neither of the fighters. Half an hour passed and the old soldier begun to press an advantage. A powerful knee to Guthrak's ribcage put him out of breath. His was quickly followed by a series of hard punches in the wounded area. Guthrak felt the air escape his lungs as they were pierced by his own ribs.
He felt death approaching, but also a surge of power. With an unexpected surge of strenght, he reached into the soldier's torso, hitting him with all his strenght and anger. Yet he felt something more. As he landed the punch, he felt as if his hand pierced through the opponent's flesh and went beyond. He felt the old soldier's life energy. He also felt as if his hand absorbed it, while the pain at his lung and his breathing became normal once more. When he pulled his hand back, the soldier fell dead to the ground.
The repercussion that the death caused was way bigger than anyone could predict. The city ended up deciding that he was possessed by a demon and forced him out. He packed a few things and, once again, he ran. With no place to go, he finally decided to not settle anymore. It failed three times. It was time to change. On the road he heard rummors of a crew being formed in the litoral.
He then decided he'd do whatever it took to join it and live in the sea.
The origins of Guthrak's name are well known: when found by the caravan, a note was resting on his chest. It read:
"This is Guthrak. A baby with a name as ugly as his face. He's your problem now."
Guthrak had a better life than most born into his situation could afford to desire. He had hot meals everyday, he taught to read, and he had a bed to sleep at night. The priests would even tell him bedtime stories. They told him of many things, most of which he cared little about and quickly forgot. He probably forgot all but one: they Grey Wardens. The mythical warriors of legends, who ended Blights, who would charge into battle ridding magnificent beasts and who would always do whatever it took to finish a job. He imagined himself in their armor, walking among their ranks. It became his dream.
Despite his better than expected treatment, Guthrak and the Chantry's members didn't had a warm relationship. He was treated respectifully, but always coldly, as if talking to him was a formality people around him were forced to follow. However, he noticed that they acted like this among themselves, therefore it wasn't personal.
The one thing he enjoyed was his training. Due to his way above the average stature, he was put into guard duty quite early, with only twelve years of age. With it came an used set of heavy armor and a nice metal shield. Both showed heavy sings of use, the armor looked particularly old, and seemed to have been worn by more than a few guards before him, while the shield's only sing of being worn were a mark from what was probably an axe that hit it a bit too hard, leaving a big notch dead in the center.
The years passed and changed Guthrak. When he was fourteen, he'd look like an adult already. Mostly due to his thick build and heavy facial hair. At fifteen he was besting most older guards in combat and on his way to being a templar, the next best things after being a grey Warden. At this same age, he started to sneak out of the chantry and visit the city, where he had his first contacts with alcohol, bar fights and women.
When he was seventeen, the priests found him sneaking out and his deviant ways of life, thus granting that he would never be chosen to become a templar.
His world collapsed. He never enjoyed the Chantry, but becoming a Templar was the closest he could ever get of being a Grey Warden. In a mix of despair and rage, he fled. He took with him what he could: the armor and the shield.
Two years passed as he did his best to survive. Which was mostly keeping the order in taverns and inns. He quickly grew too big to fit in his old armor. He also couldn't live in rented inn rooms for the rest of his life. He needed money and needed it now.
When heading out to the sales district to sell his old armor, he found out about a fight club. The payment from the fights itself weren't that better than his bar job, but the possibility to bet on himself was just to good to let go. He sold his armor, probably for a value much lower than deserved, went into the fight club and put everything on himself.
Unsurprizingly, he won all of his fights in the first night. His strenght combined with his youth and years of pratice put him way above the level his of his oponents. With a considerably big sum of money, he did what every nineteen years old would: headed to the closest tavern, to where he was followed by an old man.
The old man started a conversation with the drunken Guthrak. He praised his fighting skills, joked about his oponents, bought him some drinks and started to talk about the past. Soon Guthrak was rambling on how he left the Chantry, how he missed his opportunity of becoming a Templar and how he wished to redeem himself. The old man grinnedand told him there was a way to bring him back into Andraste's grace.
Drunken Guthrak gladly followed him into a temple. Gadly he said the vows. Gladly he drank the blood. Fooled by the Disciples of Andraste, he was now a Reaver.
Much happened after drinking the blood. Denial, fear, anger. All of that led Guthrak to flee out of another temple, leaving behind all his belongings, including his money. He became a wanderer. Going from city to city making money as body guard, mercenary, pit fighter or whatever else he could find.
Eventually he settled on a big city, in which he became a famous pit fighter. He was able to afford a small house, his food, drinks and eventually women to warm his bed at night. But nothing would be able to wash his conscience of how he corrupted himself.
Many years passed. He was nearing old age and yet was still stronger than many young adults on the peak of their development. He was still the champion of the pit, until he found an oponent at his level. An old soldier, worn out by countless battles. His body would lead you to believe the soldier was in his early 20's, but his face would show that the man was much older. Perhabs older than Guthrak himself.
The fight was though. Neither would give up their ground. No failures were forgiven by neither of the fighters. Half an hour passed and the old soldier begun to press an advantage. A powerful knee to Guthrak's ribcage put him out of breath. His was quickly followed by a series of hard punches in the wounded area. Guthrak felt the air escape his lungs as they were pierced by his own ribs.
He felt death approaching, but also a surge of power. With an unexpected surge of strenght, he reached into the soldier's torso, hitting him with all his strenght and anger. Yet he felt something more. As he landed the punch, he felt as if his hand pierced through the opponent's flesh and went beyond. He felt the old soldier's life energy. He also felt as if his hand absorbed it, while the pain at his lung and his breathing became normal once more. When he pulled his hand back, the soldier fell dead to the ground.
The repercussion that the death caused was way bigger than anyone could predict. The city ended up deciding that he was possessed by a demon and forced him out. He packed a few things and, once again, he ran. With no place to go, he finally decided to not settle anymore. It failed three times. It was time to change. On the road he heard rummors of a crew being formed in the litoral.
He then decided he'd do whatever it took to join it and live in the sea.
tl;dr - Guthrak never met his parents. Was raised by the Chantry to become a Templar, but he screwed it by sneaking out frequently. He then was fooled by a Disciple of Andraste into becoming a Reaver. Disgusted with himself he fled once again, going for a somewhat big city, where he lived the next couple decades as a fighter. Until one day his curse manifested itself and made him kill a man to save his own life. The city thought he was a demon, and he was thrown out with almost none of his belongings. Hearing rummors of a crew being formed in the litoral, he decided to join it.
Personality
Guthrak is a generally happy fellow. So much happened to him that he created a thick skin for problems. With that said, he's also not the kind of person to take disrespects lightly. With his slightly crazed personality, one can never really know if he's going to laugh from a mockery or punch you in the face for it.
Despite his usual good mood, he carries a great regret for his choices in life and is still seeking a way to repair all his mistakes.
By the end of the day, he's a brute with a hearth of gold.
Other
Guthrak fighting style is unconventional, to say the least. Despite his early training with swords, maces and shields, he grew used to fighting with his bare hands during his life. This led to a weird mix of styles: He fights with no weapons beside his fists, with all the violence and brutality that a fist fight requires, however he still uses a shield against armed enemies, using it both as a defensive tool and as an oversised knucke. An experient observer might notice some martiality to the way he fights, legacy of his early training as a soon to become Templar.
Despite the fact that he does not use any weapons, he's still fond of heavy armor. Being able to move in one with little to no problems. On the other hand, all armor he wears must be either be intended for a taller race or specifically tailored for him.
Still trying to finish, no time at work at all. Well, at least I got some self heals (bunch of selfish mages)
By the way, can we get a healer? Or at least a mage with Heal? I'm not in the mood of getting knocked out in every single fight.
HurrFer ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
If you got the moves like the Nord in your signature, we might have some uses for you aboard.
I don't know if the people of Thedas might enjoy the Skyrim shuffle but I'll do the little dance every time we accomplish something. Hopefully it will entertain the crew too.
GM
Saarebas Wandering Wild Magic Fanatic
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
@Leos Klien Really, I honestly had no idea. It was from my understanding that all the races of Thedas had the same lifespan, which is why the slightly longer lifespan of the Qunari do to their development of actual medicine rather than hoping for magic was considered a grand thing. The only elves I can recall with an extended lifespan were...
...both of which required some serious magic. But seriously if I am wrong please correct me, I hate walking around with wrong information especially about things I am so passionate like this.
Sorry if I scarred you off from this character, but I am still excited to what you come up with =)
@KRIEEEG Can't wait to see the finished product dude =) And who needs a healer, the wounds only make you stronger! XD
@HurrFer I demand a dance to celebrate our victory! XD
EDIT: Official Announcement: I am officially saying we are filled up guys, if you have already talked to me then you are golden and can post a CS, but if you haven't I am sorry to say that we aren't taking anyone else at the moment. But that may change in the future, as of right now it is uncertain
Zathrian and the guardians in the temple of Mythal. Both of which was some serious magic being done, Zathrian's being tied to an ancient curse while the guardians being actual ancient elves who were bound to the will of Mythal.
...both of which required some serious magic. But seriously if I am wrong please correct me, I hate walking around with wrong information especially about things I am so passionate like this.
Sorry if I scarred you off from this character, but I am still excited to what you come up with =)
@KRIEEEG Can't wait to see the finished product dude =) And who needs a healer, the wounds only make you stronger! XD
@HurrFer I demand a dance to celebrate our victory! XD
EDIT: Official Announcement: I am officially saying we are filled up guys, if you have already talked to me then you are golden and can post a CS, but if you haven't I am sorry to say that we aren't taking anyone else at the moment. But that may change in the future, as of right now it is uncertain
fluorescent can't change her bio and she's g r u m p y
Member
Seen
6 yrs ago
By the way, can we get a healer? Or at least a mage with Heal? I'm not in the mood of getting knocked out in every single fight.
@CrystalCHTriple seems to have you covered on that Heal spell!
That said, I can't decide on a character... I definitely want to play an older grumpy grump character who's sick of these young kids and their laziness, but I'm stuck between a grumpy grump ranger-esque archer rogue or a grumpy grump Aveline-esque warrior.
knighthawk Djinn Jedi
Member
Seen
1 mo ago
@KRIEEEG I am unsure if the tank you have planned will be a quinari heavy weapon fighter or not. As we have seen elves be just as fine in the heavy weapon department with the wolverine-wannabe.
Name
Alabaster "The Bastard" Aeducan
Age
60
Gender
Male
Race
Dwarva
Class/Specialization
Rogue/Assassin
Appearance
Abilities
Below the belt
Swift kick to the knee can ruin anyone's agility for the day. Always good for setting up the next action and slowing down overly evasive opponents.
Deadly strike
Armor is good, but there are always certain constants you can exploit every time. He has learned the gaps in the enemy defense and makes it even easier to weaken the armor's function for all to take advantage of.
Lethality
The sharpest edge you will ever have is knowledge. I don't need to be the quickest hands, just the quickest mind. He uses cunnin instead of strength to hit and hurt his enemies.
Mark of Death
The wisest people make full use of all assets available to them as well as provide the best benefit to their assets. Anyone he takes time to single out is easy prey for his allies.
Dual striking
Calm and simple one-two, one-two, easy as breathing to make the enemy stop breathing.
Riposte
A trickier combination, trying to stun on the first strike to set up for a guaranteed follow-up.
Personality
As cunning as Varric but not nearly as cocky. He is always looking for ways to help himself to others rewards for their efforts. He's not shy about an honest day's work, but if you put your mind to it, there is always an easer way to accomplish your goals or get even more for the same unavoidable amount of effort.
Origin
Bloodlines are like mines. Some can reach down deep into the stone and bring forth the greatest treasures to our kind. Some can be completely mundane with only one interesting contribution in their whole length. Some dig too deep and call forth the darkness. Mines that are spread too thin weaken the foundation and cause destruction for all those around them.
That is where I come in. I am asked to inspect and assess conditions and deem if there is a danger to this continued progression. If I deem it problematic, I take the proper steps necessary to put a stop to the dangers of the dwarven ways.
For many many years I was very good at my work, keeping sharp between assessments by attending the proving. I never had to collapse an entire mine before, but they dug too deep and brought something black back with them.
By the end it was dirty and ugly work that exposed my long history of work in a way I didn't want. So, I left home under my own power before I was forced to leave.
Now, I find family trees need as pruning as much as mine shafts need sapping.
Other
He carries a pair of Aeducan maces and lives for the messy kills they are famous for. In his travels, he has added a pair of basket-hilts to protect his hands and add a flair of his own to their purpose.
Alabaster "The Bastard" Aeducan
Age
60
Gender
Male
Race
Dwarva
Class/Specialization
Rogue/Assassin
Appearance
Abilities
Below the belt
Swift kick to the knee can ruin anyone's agility for the day. Always good for setting up the next action and slowing down overly evasive opponents.
Deadly strike
Armor is good, but there are always certain constants you can exploit every time. He has learned the gaps in the enemy defense and makes it even easier to weaken the armor's function for all to take advantage of.
Lethality
The sharpest edge you will ever have is knowledge. I don't need to be the quickest hands, just the quickest mind. He uses cunnin instead of strength to hit and hurt his enemies.
Mark of Death
The wisest people make full use of all assets available to them as well as provide the best benefit to their assets. Anyone he takes time to single out is easy prey for his allies.
Dual striking
Calm and simple one-two, one-two, easy as breathing to make the enemy stop breathing.
Riposte
A trickier combination, trying to stun on the first strike to set up for a guaranteed follow-up.
Personality
As cunning as Varric but not nearly as cocky. He is always looking for ways to help himself to others rewards for their efforts. He's not shy about an honest day's work, but if you put your mind to it, there is always an easer way to accomplish your goals or get even more for the same unavoidable amount of effort.
Origin
Bloodlines are like mines. Some can reach down deep into the stone and bring forth the greatest treasures to our kind. Some can be completely mundane with only one interesting contribution in their whole length. Some dig too deep and call forth the darkness. Mines that are spread too thin weaken the foundation and cause destruction for all those around them.
That is where I come in. I am asked to inspect and assess conditions and deem if there is a danger to this continued progression. If I deem it problematic, I take the proper steps necessary to put a stop to the dangers of the dwarven ways.
For many many years I was very good at my work, keeping sharp between assessments by attending the proving. I never had to collapse an entire mine before, but they dug too deep and brought something black back with them.
By the end it was dirty and ugly work that exposed my long history of work in a way I didn't want. So, I left home under my own power before I was forced to leave.
Now, I find family trees need as pruning as much as mine shafts need sapping.
Other
He carries a pair of Aeducan maces and lives for the messy kills they are famous for. In his travels, he has added a pair of basket-hilts to protect his hands and add a flair of his own to their purpose.
Name
Vashoth "Vash" Crowbow
Age
35
Gender
Male
Race
Qun
Class/Specialization
Warrior(archer)/Champion
Appearance
Abilities
Precise striking:
He tries to make each attack count, sacrificing attack speed for a bonus to attack as well as an increased chance to score critical hits.
Taunt
A mocking bellow catches the attention of nearby foes, increasing their hostility toward him. A tactic he often uses to give overwhelmed allies a moments breath as enemies have to come all the way over to him.
Melee Archer
Experience fighting in tight quarters has taught him to fire without interruption, even when being attacked.
Aim
He carefully places each shot for maximum effect while holding this stance from his training. This decreases his rate of fire, but grants bonuses to attack, damage, armor penetration, and critical chance.
Pinning shot
A shot to the target's legs disables the foe, pinning the target in place and slowing movement speed otherwise.
Crippling shot
A carefully aimed shot to the target's arms hampers the target's ability to fight by reducing attack and defense if it hits, although the shot inflicts only normal damage.
Personality
Ponderous. He has not only the hunter's patience, but the detachment of looking at everyone around him like meat waiting to be butchered.
Origin
He woke up on the beach with lungful of water and no memories of how he got on the beach. He knew that he was Qunari, Qun, and that he came from Pal Vollen. But he could not remember who he was or any family names, so he took to calling himself 'Vashoth' FOr a member of the race, but not the philosophy.
He was raised back to health from washing ashore in a lighthouse by the watchkeeper called Ser Blackfletch', a former 'competitive archer' who lost an arm and leg to darkspawn. Anyone who lived under Blackfletch's roof had to earn their keep, Vashoth had two arms and legs, so he could do everuthing the former knight could no longer do. This started as mostly bitch-work and bringing the home back up to code before he was handed a bow and arrow. Blackfletch was getting on in years and certain no-one was coming to kill him anymore so he confessed to Vashoth that he was a former Antivan Crow who did indeed loose his limbs to darkspawn while returning from a successful mission, being a retired knight was claiming the titles and honorifics was the larger lie.
When he was an assassin, he was the sniper of his people, setting down impossible shots on a daily basis. He could not teach an eight foot amnesiac how to hide or sneak, but he could teach him to thread a barrel's bunghole.
They started with hitting the broadside of a barn, a ten feet by ten feet bullseye, every day for the first month he put a hundred arrows into the side of the building from thirty yards. 3000 arrows later, they removed one foot off the edge and he was tasked with putting 120 arrows into the bullseye from forty yards away. Each month they took away another foot from the bullseye while adding more arrows to the minimum from another ten yards away. By the end of the year, Vashoth could plant 300 arrows into a 1 foot wide target from 130 yards away. The next year was spent working on the trickshots such as from horseback, moving targets and firing from the deck of a boat (effectively shooting while standing on a 2x4 on a rolling paintcan) Staring with the 10X10's and working his way down again. During this time, he crafted a bow made for someone of his size and strength that needed fletched javelins rather than arrowshafts.
Blackfletch died in his sleep, a bout of pneumonia from living in a lighthouse he couldn't shake. The Qun took up the name 'crowbow' to honor his teacher and traveled to the nearest port town to try his hand at learning how to earn a living.
Other
He REALLY doesn't like fish.
Vashoth "Vash" Crowbow
Age
35
Gender
Male
Race
Qun
Class/Specialization
Warrior(archer)/Champion
Appearance
Abilities
Precise striking:
He tries to make each attack count, sacrificing attack speed for a bonus to attack as well as an increased chance to score critical hits.
Taunt
A mocking bellow catches the attention of nearby foes, increasing their hostility toward him. A tactic he often uses to give overwhelmed allies a moments breath as enemies have to come all the way over to him.
Melee Archer
Experience fighting in tight quarters has taught him to fire without interruption, even when being attacked.
Aim
He carefully places each shot for maximum effect while holding this stance from his training. This decreases his rate of fire, but grants bonuses to attack, damage, armor penetration, and critical chance.
Pinning shot
A shot to the target's legs disables the foe, pinning the target in place and slowing movement speed otherwise.
Crippling shot
A carefully aimed shot to the target's arms hampers the target's ability to fight by reducing attack and defense if it hits, although the shot inflicts only normal damage.
Personality
Ponderous. He has not only the hunter's patience, but the detachment of looking at everyone around him like meat waiting to be butchered.
Origin
He woke up on the beach with lungful of water and no memories of how he got on the beach. He knew that he was Qunari, Qun, and that he came from Pal Vollen. But he could not remember who he was or any family names, so he took to calling himself 'Vashoth' FOr a member of the race, but not the philosophy.
He was raised back to health from washing ashore in a lighthouse by the watchkeeper called Ser Blackfletch', a former 'competitive archer' who lost an arm and leg to darkspawn. Anyone who lived under Blackfletch's roof had to earn their keep, Vashoth had two arms and legs, so he could do everuthing the former knight could no longer do. This started as mostly bitch-work and bringing the home back up to code before he was handed a bow and arrow. Blackfletch was getting on in years and certain no-one was coming to kill him anymore so he confessed to Vashoth that he was a former Antivan Crow who did indeed loose his limbs to darkspawn while returning from a successful mission, being a retired knight was claiming the titles and honorifics was the larger lie.
When he was an assassin, he was the sniper of his people, setting down impossible shots on a daily basis. He could not teach an eight foot amnesiac how to hide or sneak, but he could teach him to thread a barrel's bunghole.
They started with hitting the broadside of a barn, a ten feet by ten feet bullseye, every day for the first month he put a hundred arrows into the side of the building from thirty yards. 3000 arrows later, they removed one foot off the edge and he was tasked with putting 120 arrows into the bullseye from forty yards away. Each month they took away another foot from the bullseye while adding more arrows to the minimum from another ten yards away. By the end of the year, Vashoth could plant 300 arrows into a 1 foot wide target from 130 yards away. The next year was spent working on the trickshots such as from horseback, moving targets and firing from the deck of a boat (effectively shooting while standing on a 2x4 on a rolling paintcan) Staring with the 10X10's and working his way down again. During this time, he crafted a bow made for someone of his size and strength that needed fletched javelins rather than arrowshafts.
Blackfletch died in his sleep, a bout of pneumonia from living in a lighthouse he couldn't shake. The Qun took up the name 'crowbow' to honor his teacher and traveled to the nearest port town to try his hand at learning how to earn a living.
Other
He REALLY doesn't like fish.
HurrFer ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Member
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7 yrs ago
I'm currently building my character and I'm wondering if an elven reaver would be a good idea. I'm debating between that or a Mage but since I've seen two mages I'm leaning to the reaver. Just need suggestions.
fluorescent can't change her bio and she's g r u m p y
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6 yrs ago
@HurrFer As far as I can tell (including characters in progress that have been posted) there are three mages, a warrior, and a rogue, then @knighthawk has both a warrior and a rogue, so if you go for the reaver, I'll go with a rogue?
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Saarebas Wandering Wild Magic Fanatic
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2 yrs ago
@knighthawk They seem interesting so far, but two things
1) We are only allowing one character per person right now
2) The whole archer warrior thing usually don't go together, but honestly I think I can make an acception for Quin
@HurrFer Like @fluorescent said our roster is seeming pretty diverse class wise so I say go with whatever you would be more comfortable playing as.
1) We are only allowing one character per person right now
2) The whole archer warrior thing usually don't go together, but honestly I think I can make an acception for Quin
@HurrFer Like @fluorescent said our roster is seeming pretty diverse class wise so I say go with whatever you would be more comfortable playing as.
CrystalCHTriple
Banned
Seen
8 yrs ago
<Snipped quote by KRIEEEG>
@CrystalCHTriple seems to have you covered on that Heal spell!
My character is not a healer, however. If more than one person gets smacked up, struggle will ensue.
Edit:
Is a Bag of Holding (reasonable weight limit) allowed?
HurrFer ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Member
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7 yrs ago
Well I guess I'll just go ahead and continue with the reaver
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