Name:
Race:
Age:
Faction Loyalty: (I.E. the Templars, the Circle, the Inquisition, the Cloister. This is optional.)

Appearance: (No anime, you may use a drawn portrait if it is realistic or no picture at all as long as you provide an adequate description.)
Class: (Warrior, Mage, Rogue. These are suggestions but you may use any kind of class you can think of)
Class Description: (Only necessary for custom classes or hybrid classes)
Weapons:
Armor:

Special Skills: (Alchemy, smithing, etc.)
Personality: (Optional)

Biography: (2-5 paragraphs, must include how you were conscripted into the order. If you're a foreigner it must explain why you came to Ferelden)

You will all play Junior Members of the Order unless you privately ask me for permission to make an older member.

As I said I've got plans for the dwarves, Ferelden, Orlais, and the Free Marches and some events that have occurred since the Blight began. The current events that your characters should be aware of are as follows.

-The Dalish tribes are almost extinct
-The Dwarves have cut off all trade and contact with those outside of their cities
-The Free Marches are being destroyed
-Kirkwall and Oswick have come together to hold off the Darkspawn in the Free Marches
-The Circle Tower has been destroyed by the Archdemon
-Heavy Rioting in Highever and Amaranthine have caused sea-trade in Ferelden to come to a halt.
-Orlais is being hit hard by the Darkspawn
-The Architect's Darkspawn were set free by the Warden Hero of the Fifth Blight, however they have been hunted nearly to extinction
Other than that, and for the events of the last 226 years I'd like to consult with you all and figure out how you'd like this to be.

Lastly, I would like for this roleplay to be realistic. Primarily we will use steel weapons and armor, not dragonbone.
However runes, enchantments, and magic is all perfectly fine as it would be in the game.

Name: Warden Commander Marc Levine
Race: Human
Age: 23
Faction Loyalty: N/A

Appearance: Marc is 5'11 with unkempt brown hair, a light beard and several scars crossing his face. He has an average build, his shoulders aren't as broad as they could be, and his posture sometimes lacks. Despite this he has a very well maintained physique, the product of years of training and battle. His eyes are blue and his teeth are fairly white, his hands are large and his legs are long. His body is somewhat A-symmetrical, but he isn't impaired in any way.
Class: Warrior
Class Description:
Weapons: Marc uses the Centuries old sword of the house he was born to, enchanted with a rune of fire as well as a dark steel shield and a steel dagger.
Armor: Marc uses medium-weight dark steel halfplate armor which covers his chest, forearms, shoulders, thighs and shins. Underneath that he wears a layer of chainmail which covers the rest of his exposed areas. The plates on his shoulders are lobstered and he has no helmet. He uses brown leather gloves and dark steel boots.

Special Skills: Disenchanting
Personality: N/A

Biography: Marc was the recruit picked up by the Warden Commander Selim when he was ten. He recieved the taint at age twenty but he began his training at age eleven. During his years with Selim he traveled to most areas of Thedas and encountered numerous darkspawn, however he had not seen any large scale combat until a year ago when the wardens first had the numbers to march against the blight. His face was scarred in his first battle and most of the wardens were cut down within a fortnight of encountering the darkspawn in the Free Marches.

After the first several battles when the wardens had been reduced to nearly nothing Selim's taint took him. Being the inheritor to the title of Warden Commander Marc ordered all of Selim's generals to travel to the different nations across Thedas. He himself went to ferelden to find more suitable recruits to bring into the order. He hadn't had any formal leadership training so most of what Marc had learned how to do had been from simply watching Selim. He found himself travelling blindly across Ferelden, finding recruits, giving them the blood, and then sending them to report to his generals. In the past few months however he has been gathering conscripts whom he deems capable and congregating them at the ruins of Ostagar where the first battle of the fifth blight took place. Those who arrive at Ostagar are the best recruits Marc has been able to get his hands on and they are no doubt capable of surviving the taint.

Name: "Scout"
Race: Dwarf
Age: 26
Faction Loyalty: Legion of the Dead

Appearance: In his developing years, Scout was one of the better-looking dwarves, by dwarven standards. His time with the Legion, however, left him with more than a few scars from blades, arrows, and claws, as well as a burn from his left cheek down his torso, from a Hurlock mage. The auburn hair on his head is kept shaved, and his beard is kept at a finger's length, to prevent it being grabbed.

Class: Legion Scout
Class Description: Having served as picket and reconnoiter of the famed Legion of the Dead, he moves quietly, sees clearly, and knows his way around traps, and years of death have only somewhat dulled his Merchant-born skill with words. Fighting the Darkspawn regularly has given him both the Taint and a good deal more physical strength and endurance than similarly sneaky types enjoy.

Weapons: He typically carries twin knives and a crossbow, the former to weave through armor, the latter to pierce it.
Armor: With his own, sophisticated Legion Scout armor badly damaged, he had to wear a human smith's paltry attempt at repairs, and sacrificed protection for quiet. The mail still looks like the lighter Legion stuff -- white skull emblazoned on the middle of the chest -- but does not perform nearly so well as it used to. His old helmet remains inside an ogre's corpse, and he now settles for half-helms, to allow for his vision and hearing.

Special Skills: Bartering
Personality: While open to friendly banter, Scout does not need it to sustain himself. He derives a sense of purpose from hunting Darkspawn, and security from his mobility. Scout grows restless if he stays in one place for too long, but has earned a respect for the import of commanding officers, and will only complain when he sees it vital.

Biography: "Scout" was not born as such, instead being fathered by one of the Merchant Caste in Kal'Hirol. Trade with the Surface being officially cut for some time, the Merchant Caste became more riddled with crime and corruption than any time previously. Goods were smuggled in and out of Kal'Hirol especially, due to it being directly beneath the bustling trade hub of the Amaranthine. Kal'Hirol officials had largely remained part of this corruption, but pressure from Orzammar only ever increased, and the occasional punishment was demanded.

Scout, in his youth, ended up being one such sacrifice. While moving lyrium to the Surface at his father's behest, Scout was captured by dwarven soldiers. He was, of course, captured after the successful delivery, which had the benefit for the officials of not interrupting their pay, and Scout of not officially losing his caste by being spotted on the Surface. The punishment proved to be imprisonment, but anyone savvy enough to smuggle lyrium was of value to the Legion of the Dead. As the Legion had the same sort of autonomy as the diminishing Grey Wardens, Scout was allowed to join their number, which he eagerly accepted.

His years with the legion were some of the most purposeful of his life, and Scout took to his new identity vigorously. In the years of Blight, the Legion were nearly the only dwarva still fighting the Darkspawn, seeing it as an opportunity to press forward, rather than a holiday. While the relative peace of the Deep Roads lent itself to Scout living years longer than most of his discipline, he did sustain many injuries, but regarded them with pride. One day though, Scout sustained the wound that kills everyone as surely as time: the Taint.

They were near the Surface at the time, striking at a group of Darkspawn who'd had the wits to travel underground in day, to sneak beyond Human defenses. It was there that Scout stumbled on an ogre in battle armor. Such a creature would prove an unwelcome surprise to whatever Human settlement the Darkspawn were attacking, and Scout attempted to escape and warn the Legion. The ogre was pet to a hurlock mage, as it turned out, and Scout's exit was blocked. Having already had his funeral some years before, Scout settled himself on killing the ogre. The beast had other plans, and even as Scout slit its giant wrist, that hand forced his torso to the great maw, where his entire torso was taken as a matter of course. Armor rent and bones broken, it nearly killed Scout when the ogre fell to its death with him still in the mouth. The Wardens, it seemed, had noticed the same group the Legion had.

The Wardens were few at the time -- a Commander and Recruits -- but with the aid and distraction of the badly-damaged but still quite-violent Scout, forced the Darkspawn into retreat. When the battle was done, a young mage recruit was able to repair the wounded dwarf. The same could not be said for either his Legion Scout armor or the Taint the ogre's blood and slobber had given him. With no contact from the Legion, Scout was given a choice by the Wardens and Fate: search for a path back to his unit and die of the Taint while the Darkspawn ravaged the surface, or help restore the dwindling Blight-enders. It wasn't really a choice at all, he'd later decided.

Name: Maas
Race: Qunari
Age: 58
Faction Loyalty: Tal-Vashoth (renegade Qunari)

Appearance: Maas is 6'8" and keeps his body muscular and fit. His skin is pale like worn stone, and he keeps his grey hair long and straight. He has two proud horns, both bearing many scratches from being used in various battles. He has several scars across his body, and will tell how he obtained each of them if asked.
Class: Warrior, Berserker
Class Description: Maas was trained as a noble warrior from a very young age. Since becoming Tal-Vashoth, he has also learned of Berserkers and occasionally incorporates their technique into his own. Because they clash with his sense of honor, however, he only unleashes his rage in times of desperation.
Weapons: A steel Greatsword called Orn, which he maintains religiously between battles.
Armor: Heavy-plated reinforced steel armor from head to toe, with the exception of a helmet (his horns prevent it).

Special Skills: Tactics, Smithing (not an expert; can repair and maintain equipment if it's not in shambles)
Personality: Maas is much like other Qunari: quiet, straight to the point, and honorable. He values honor and strength above all other things, and it is very hard to earn his respect without them. Not that earning his respect with them is much easier. Maas says only what he feels is necessary and will usually not take part in a conversation unless pulled in or unless he has something of value to contribute.

Biography:
Maas does not talk about his past, but he was born in Par Vollen as most Qunari are. He was trained from birth to be a soldier, but eventually grew tired of the strict teachings of the Qun. He left to become Tal-Vashoth, those who have abandoned the ways of the Qun. Since then (about 37 years now), Maas has made his way as a mercenary, especially as a bodyguard or enforcer. He had heard stories of the Darkspawn and what they were capable of, but he had never encountered one in person. That changed at the beginning of this Blight.

Having a rare day without a job to do, Maas went to the mountains to do some physical training. He left Orn behind (the training was for his body, not his weapon) and went to scale one of the taller mountains by hand and in full armor. Six hours later, he was taking a short break on a small plateau about halfway up when he heard the ever-familiar sound of metal being pulled from a sheath. Had it not been for his armor and his decades of combat experience, he would probably have died right then and there. He spun away just in time for a Hurlock's blade to bounce off of his shoulder plate - exactly where his head had just been. Without Orn, Maas was forced to fight hand-to-hand against this nightmarish creature before him. Fortunately, there was only one, and Maas was able to dispatch him. Unfortunately, the sounds attracted more Darkspawn that were hiding within the mountain. A lot more. Maas took up the dead Darkspawn's weapon and attempted to fight them all off. However, they just kept coming, to the point that they would soon overwhelm him with sheer numbers. As another came charging toward him, Maas threw his weapon at the monstrosity and, as it pierced the creature's chestplate, kicked the monster back into its kin, causing them to momentarily stumble on top of each other. He then quickly dove off the plateau and began sliding down the mountain as far as he could. When he finally came to a stop, he waited for a full five minutes before finally deciding that he was not being followed. Yet. Climbing the rest of the way down, Maas quickly retreated to the small village where he was currently residing. The village was on fire.

Maas hesitated at the sight of the village burning before him. He raced to his hut and bashed open the door. There was Orn, thankfully, though it had been knocked to the floor. Maas took up his blade and raced out to look for survivors. However, it did not take long for him to discover that he was already far too late: the villagers were all gone, either dead on the ground or taken by the Darkspawn. And yes, it had definitely been the Darkspawn; Maas could see their foul black blood staining some areas, and - ah, there was even a severed head on the ground. One of the villagers must have gotten in a well-placed swing with a sword before being taken by those creatures. Leaving the doomed village behind him, Maas set out for a port city. If the Darkspawn were mobilizing, it must mean a dreaded Blight was beginning. That would mean an Archdemon had been awakened, and that would mean danger. Maas was no coward, but he knew his limitations, and he knew that no one man could ever take on an Archdemon alone. However, if Maas remembered correctly, the Grey Wardens were always known to rise in order to defeat such demons. He would seek out the Grey Wardens, and he would join them in their battle. The last Blight had been in Ferelden; that was where Maas would start.

Name: Isala
Race: Tal-Vashoth
Age: Thirty-Four
Faction Loyalty: N/A

Appearance:
Isala stands at a mere six-foot-three-inches, a moderate height for her people. His shoulders are broad and her muscles thin and lithe, though she seems to slouch slightly forward. Her skin is the common grey color, while her hair compliments it by being a bright silver in color, reaching just to her shoulders. Golden irises peer out from behind a cracked, broken mask that covers the top half of her face, the lower half marred by scars, the most prominent being the ones left by the stitches that bound her lips shut. Her horns seem to be broken off halfway out, leaving the ends rough and jagged.

Class: Saarebas
Class Description: The Qunari treat the Saarebas like war hounds; though, at least the latter is allowed moments of respite. Teachings emphasized with pain have aided the Saarebas in their combat prowess, but their skill in any magic other than combat magic is limited, if there at all.
Weapons: A curved steel dagger that she is adequately skilled with.
Armor: Reinforced Saarebas robes. The metal from her collar has been expanded into her robes, armoring her previously bare chest in an iron breastplate, her shoulders with pauldrons, and a set of gauntlets that cover most of her forearms.

Special Skills: Fairly skilled at etching runes.
Personality: N/A

Biography: The Saarebas that later became known as Isala was always one that questioned the Qun. Other Saarebas, like most of the Qunari, were devout in their beliefs. And it was not uncommon for her to see them set themselves ablaze to keep themselves from the "corruption" that they were susceptible to. It all disgusted her, but her thoughts were her own. It would only invite reeducation or death upon her.

Her time came when she, her Arvaarad, and the group of Karasaad they were escorting was jumped by a group of particularly violent Tal-Vashoth. As was her duty, Isala fought alongside the Karasaad and her Arvaarad, but in the end, only Isala and one of the Karasaad remained. Rather than allow herself to be slain for a religion she did not believe in, she electrocuted the Qunari, grabbed the rod that acted as her leash, and hijacked a boat run by human traders to get as far away as possible. Which is how she turned up in Fereldan.

The moment Isala touched foot in Fereldan, she was on the run from the Chantry. Not only was she an apostate in their eyes, but a heathen that would spread the Qun amongst the Maker-fearing populace of Fereldan. Even if she thought she could convince them otherwise, she would not have tried - her brief time on the ship had allowed her to hear of many rumors about how brutal the Templars could be to mages.

However, she found refuge amongst a group of apostates that had escaped the Templars through one mean or another, and had congregated in the Brecilian Forest. The hodgepodge of human and elvish mages, among sympathizers from both races and some dwarves, were keen to bring a Qunari into the fold. It was them that cut the stitches that had kept her mouth shut all those years, and healed the wounds as best they could. Isala was grateful, and remained with them for some time. However, the moment she heard the words "blood magic", she excused himself from the conversation and never returned.

Through much eavesdropping and more than a few close encounters with the Chantry, Isala was able to hear about the Grey Warden meeting in Ostagar. Everyone had heard the legends of the Wardens. And it was a shame that no Qunari or Tal-Vashoth had ever been one. So, she stole a few supplies from a tavern and headed down south to drop in on the meeting, and convince them to let her tag along. Or, at the least, die trying.

Name: Glandivalis “Val” Ruarc
Race: Human (Elf-Blooded)
Age: 19
Faction Loyalty: The Chantry (currently) Circle of Magi (formerly)
Appearance: Val is by all means human, but bears some subtle evlish traits because of her parentage. Her ears are slightly pointed, her eyes are quite large, and she is very thin and lithe. Her skin is lightly tanned, her eyes are a dark brown, and her hair is jet black; usually cut neck long and stylishly unkempt. She has no other distinguishable markings, not that are readily visible, anyway.
Class: Mage (Spirit Healer)
Class Description: Val was taught in the Circle Tower before its destruction, and studied the school of spirit. This, accompanied with her uncanny ability to traverse the Fade, led to her becoming accustomed to many benevolent Fade Spirits, who are ready to lend her their energy for use in restorative spells on herself and her allies.
Weapons: A rudimentary magic staff, given to Val upon completing the Harrowing; the initiating ritual for mages in the Circle Tower. It is fashioned from oak wood.
Armor: Val wears a set of Imperial Chantry robes, given to her by her father, a former Father in the Imperial Chantry. The tunic is red and the outer robe black, with a black belt around the waist.
Special Skills: Dreamer
Val is an incredibly rare individual capable of entering the Fade at will, without the use of lyrium. This makes her exceptionally dangerous as she can enter the dreams of others (and to some extent, control them), and is highly susceptible to Fade spirits and demons.
Personality: Val is a curious and studious soul, with a love for learning and reading. She tends to be quiet and introverted, but comes alive when talking about or using magic, the Fade, dreams, or spirits. She has a vibrant passion for mystical things, but can appear disinterested in anything else.

Biography: Val was born in the Tevinter Imperium, the child of a Revered Father (for the Imperium allows male priests) and a Liberati Elf. The Liberati are a social class of freed slaves, and Lathabel, Val’s mother, had found favor in the eyes of her master’s wife, and was set free. Val’s father, Josephus, was smitten from the moment he met Lathabel, and didn’t care about social castes enough to refrain from marrying her. The pair enjoyed life together for a year before conceiving a child; the father suggested the name Glandivalis, which is the name of the weapon of Thane Shartan; in honor of said elf who marched for freedom alongside Andraste, and made it possible for his wife, an elf, to be free.

Unfortunately, their happiness would not last. Within the first few years, the couple realized their child was exhibiting magical abilities. This caused an immense strain on the usually clear lines of social status in Tevinter. A Soporati father marries a Liberati elf and has a mage child, but could an elf-blooded child of an ex-slave really be allowed become a Laetan? The family was looked on with disgrace and even hatred by some upstanding members of Imperial society. Amidst the turmoil and many court hearings to settle the matter, things took a turn for the worst. The child entered her parents’ dreams one night, without any experience or aid of lyrium. Fearing the outrage that would ensue, and fearing the child would be taken to be studied (or worse, weaponized) Lathabel and Josephus fled the Imperium. They fled through the Free Marches, where they stayed for a time, before crossing the Waking Sea into Ferelden. There they settled in Elmride, in the arling of West Hills. Val was sent to the Circle Tower to be raised and taught, but not without frequent visits from her parents, who traveled there to give sermons in the Tower’s chapel. Because of this, Val grew up with Loyalist ideals, and was one of few mages in the Tower who supported both the Circle and the Chantry.

In the Tower, her talents flourished. She overcame her harrowing with ease, already having been accustomed to traversing the Fade. It was there, during her harrowing, that she first encountered Vigor, a benevolent Fade Spirit that taught her how to use spirit energy to become a healer. Val gave herself to study the school of spirit and the ways of the spirit healer. And this was perhaps the reason she was sought out.

A pair of Grey Wardens came to the Circle Tower that fateful day; whether it was chance or destiny or they simply sensed the coming attack, Val didn’t know. What she did know was that when she learned they were looking for aid, she put her abilities on full display, coming into the wardens’ dreams that night as they slept in the guest quarters. The following day, however, her abilities were put to the real test as a horde of darkspawn burst up from beneath the Tower. Val did her best to keep the mages alive, but the archdemon itself tore at the Tower walls, and many died all around her. She had taken life in the Circle for granted for so long, that as her world came crumbling to dust around her, she just froze with shock. One of the wardens took her by the hand and led her to freedom, tossing her into Lake Calenhad to swim to safety.
On the shores of the lake, they gave her the choice: Join them, and take revenge against the creatures as a warden, or brave the world on her own.

It wasn’t much of a choice.