Bad Weather

GUILDVENTURES [just look, jeez]

@calmgale I would be very interested in this, if you'll have me! What kind of characters do you need? I like to fill in where I'm needed.

Surviving the Struggle

Yeah, the Circles in DA (in Ferelden and the Free Marches at least, and to a lesser extent Orlais) are more prisons than training academies. Mages are sent there as soon as their magic is discovered, and from then they're rarely permitted to leave... ever. The Circles are supposed to be for the safety of mages, but I'd say in general they're more to keep the mages away from the general populace. This is mostly the Chantry's fault, since they espouse some pretty hardcore anti-magic views, and most people in Thedas are Andrastian. An exception would be the mages recruited into the Grey Wardens (or just the Wardens here), since the Wardens are heroes of the Blight and operate pretty much above the law. Or the Tevinter Imperium, but we don't talk about those heathens.

Which brings me to my next question: are Wardens able to get things for free? It would depend largely on the persuasive power of the individual, but in DA Wardens are allowed to take whatever they "need" to defeat a Blight, even when there is not a Blight going on at present. Some Wardens abuse this power to get more recruits or free meals. There probably won't be so much of that with our Wardens, but I know Ronan would not be averse to free meals. ... Sorry, Thedas is one of my favorite settings, so I do a lot of thinking about it.

I'd be up for that, if needed! If the others aren't active anymore it would probably be in our best interests to get some replacements. I've yet to find another RP that catches my interest, so I'd really like to keep this one going.

Surviving the Struggle

Well, in DA mages are feared by the general populace and magic is seen mostly as a demon magnet. Any mages outside a Circle would get the Templars called on them (unless they were with the Wardens, and even then...). I was just wondering if they were leashed so tightly in this version of Ferelden, or if they are given a little more leeway with practicing in public. I guess what the general attitude surrounding it is?

And no problem! School's an ass-kicker.

Surviving the Struggle

So can I ask, what's the whole mage situation like in this Ferelden?

Surviving the Struggle

It was usual for Ronan to take up the rear whenever the freshly anointed Wardens traveled together as a group. He was not particularly active in their conversations, and he told himself that this was for the benefit of all parties involved. Of the five others he traveled with, it seemed to him that he was the only one with a dark stain on his past. Compared to the other Wardens- potion makers, bards, trained assassins, a scholar- it was easy to feel out of place. He was still unsure why Nelwa had taken an interest in him, but, rubbing his throat thoughtfully, he was glad she did. And now Berick, their mother hen for the past two weeks, had left them. He watched the assassin's Ninetails bound up to its master, blood on her maw. Ronan took a moment to check, his blood told him his companion was nearby, though the Taillow evaded his searching eyes.

The first to speak was Sasha (he had gradually been getting the hang of their names), the scholar. "It's filthy here."

Ronan snorted, but cut his laugh there and kept his words to himself. He'd been around the noble crowd enough to know how much dirt affected them, especially when clothes were involved. He wondered what the woman thought of him, a Chasind born in and rather comfortable with the mire. Dust seemed the least of their problems. Devon warned them of thieves, and somehow Ronan doubted they'd be much of a problem to him. He carried very little on him, and he was especially barren of valuables since his visit to prison. Nevertheless he touched his fingertips to the knife in his belt, reassured by its presence. As long as nobody stole his longbow, he'd be fine. The group discussed the Request Wall, and though Ronan did not contribute, he nodded in affirmation. He was on board with assisting the people of Redcliffe. Aside from the obvious reasons, Ronan was glad to be a Warden because it meant doing something worthwhile, something productive. It felt good.

So they headed toward the tavern. Ronan took his lead from Devon, the only person so far he knew of that had been here before. Redcliffe Village itself was mystery to Ronan, as was most of the northern reaches of the Olivine Kingdom.

"There it is," said Devon, and Ronan eyed the tavern uncertainly. ""Watch out. Their ale may be good but it's not worth it when it's served by thieves." This ripped a genuine laugh from Ronan, which were always eerily bright coming from him.
"The ale must not be that good if they resorted to thieving," he joked. The Emerald Warden must have really liked those boots.

He trudged up the hill behind the others, stopping only momentarily to whistle for his Taillow (who quickly flew in to roost in the eaves of the tavern) before heading into the building. His stomach grumbled when confronted with the smell of cooking meat, reminding him that he had not eaten in many hours. He held the hunger at bay, for now, to check the papers on the wall. Upon seeing the request from the Redcliffe woman who'd lost her child, he felt a sharp pang of sympathy. Miscarriages had been common in his Chasind village, the harsh lifestyle took its toll on all who lived in the Wilds. The chef's request seemed appropriate to his skills as a hunter, should the man require meats. Though he would rather visit the grieving mother first, he kept the chef's mission in his mind.

Sasha suggested they get something to eat before evaluating the missions, but Ronan had already locked on to the pitcher of mead Arïs was holding, and for a moment he grappled with himself over getting food or sitting down to drink.
His kindness won out as he followed the other Wardens to their table but did not take a seat, instead standing at the head of the table.

"I'll get the food." He rubbed his nose and refused to make direct eye contact with those he was speaking to. "Wha' you all want?" He was thinking some bread, pork and beans for himself really, but he doubted the others (especially the noble scholar) would want to dine on the food of the lower classes. "Though I don't have the coin to pay for it all," he said, shaking a pitifully empty coinpurse for emphasis. "So pay up."

Surviving the Struggle

Roleplayer

Your Timezone: PST

Your Frequency: I'm able to get on pretty much every day.

Your Real Life Obligations: None that I can see seriously interfering with RP.

Your Favorite tv show or book series: Orphan Black

Character

Name: Ronan Marsh

Age: 23

Hometown: Korcari Wilds

Race: Human

Class: Warrior

Weapon: Longbow in battle, partial to using his fists or small knives during a skirmish.

Personality:
+ perceptive
- hot-headed
+ altruistic
- ill-mannered
+ resourceful

Personal Artifacts:
Sun Pendant - A solar-shaped bronze pendant with a sphere of amber in the center. Confiscated when Ronan was imprisoned in Denerim, the family heirloom has likely ended up in the pockets of an enterprising merchant or around the neck of some town guard’s wife.
Emerald Lion Ring - A silver ring bearing the fierce visage of a lion’s head, eyes inlaid with finely-cut emeralds. Despite having no explanation as to how he could afford such fine jewelry, Ronan insists the ring is his. Last seen on the finger of Paul Leandres, a noble of Denerim.

Fears: Abandonment, being useless or weak.

Dreams:
Before renouncing his old life and joining the Wardens, he hoped to be able to support himself and his estranged younger sister. Now he settles for dreams of hot food and a warm bed.

History:
Ronan was born and raised in the thickly forested marshes of the Korcari Wilds, counting himself among the Chasind- the hardy people who had settled flecks of dry land in the otherwise inhospitable region. Danger was the way of life, here. Children learned young to travel in groups when they went to play outside the safety of the village walls. Ronan spent his childhood clambering about crumbling ruins, shooting sticks from his toy bow. Out in the bogs, he played dangerous games of hide-and-seek amongst the trees.

When he was nine, the gods finally deemed him fit for a little sister who would survive beyond her first months. But this new addition, young Amelia, brought joy to their otherwise demanding lives. With a new mouth to feed, Ronan began in earnest to follow his father along on hunting trips, eager to help his family (and his village) survive. Long hours of target practice were followed by days-long hunting trips, huddled together with his father and three other hunters around a fire while they waited for the sun to rise.

During the Fourth Blight, his village was burned to the ground. A thirteen-year-old Ronan fled east with his family, including his four-year-old sister, toward the Brecilian Forest. During the night, they were ambushed; Ronan and Amelia joined the hundreds of others made orphans by the Blight. Ronan and his sister starved for nearly a week before being taken in by another group of refugees, who got the siblings to walled village in the forest. From there, they were taken in by the Chantry.

Discomforted by the vastly different way of life, but seeing that his sister was better off under their care, Ronan struck out alone at fifteen. Surviving in an unfamiliar environment ended up entailing a lot more stealing than he had planned, and without shelter he was forced to defend himself against people and animals alike. It wasn’t until a woman took him under her wing that he found legitimate path, and for a while made an honest but boring living running errands for her.

He was in Denerim on business he was found standing, wild-eyed, over the bloody body of Paul Leandres, the youngest son of a notoriously shady noble, as the Denerim guards kicked down the door. Nelwa first saw him being dragged from the Leandres Estate kicking and screaming. He managed to break the noses of two guardsmen before being wrestled, face-down, to the ground. For a moment as he was being dragged away, hands bound behind him, his frenzied, panicked stare met her gaze. Intrigued, she visited the jail and found the feral man in his cell. He was able to convince her that he was innocent of the crime, and she invoked the Right of Conscription to save him from the gallows.

Appearance:
Working on it!
Ronan wears his rough upbringing plainly, a perpetually tired-looking five-foot-eight-inch-tall figure with unkempt black hair and a disagreeable attitude. The smooth brown skin of his face is disrupted by a scar on his cheek, and to a lesser extent, a nick above his left eye. His eyebrows are thick and expressive, often pulled down to enhance his glaring power. Other scars are interspersed throughout, particularly on his hands and forearms, and two that appear to be healed stab wounds in his back.

Pokemon

Pokemon: Taillow; Unnamed, called by whistling.

Gender: Male

Encountered: The Taillow took an interest in Ronan shortly after he left the Chantry. He would sing to the Chasind boy, who at first, found the noise annoying, but when the Taillow swooped down to pull the hair of a girl he’d been scrapping with (giving him just enough time for Ronan to get in the final hit) that he considered the positives of their partnership. Once he opened his heart, the two became a tight pair.

Disposition:
+ observant
- moody
+ loyal

Assistance: Can deliver messages, scout ahead, and provide a brief distraction in battle.

Appearance:

A standard Taillow; forked tail, shiny blue feathers and a white underside, and rays of red between the eyes and on the throat.

Surviving the Struggle

I did a little assuming about the universe here, so let me know if I need to change anything! This here is Ronan, the Ivory Warden (hopefully).

Roleplayer

Your Timezone: PST

Your Frequency: I'm able to get on pretty much every day.

Your Real Life Obligations: None that I can see seriously interfering with RP.

Your Favorite tv show or book series: Orphan Black

Character

Name: Ronan Marsh

Age: 23

Hometown: Korcari Wilds

Race: Human

Class: Warrior

Weapon: Longbow in battle, partial to using his fists or small knives during a skirmish.

Personality:
+ perceptive
- hot-headed
+ altruistic
- ill-mannered
+ resourceful

Personal Artifacts:
Sun Pendant - A solar-shaped bronze pendant with a sphere of amber in the center. Confiscated when Ronan was imprisoned in Denerim, the family heirloom has likely ended up in the pockets of an enterprising merchant or around the neck of some town guard’s wife.
Emerald Lion Ring - A silver ring bearing the fierce visage of a lion’s head, eyes inlaid with finely-cut emeralds. Despite having no explanation as to how he could afford such fine jewelry, Ronan insists the ring is his. Last seen on the finger of Paul Leandres, a noble of Denerim.

Fears: Abandonment, being useless or weak.

Dreams:
Before renouncing his old life and joining the Wardens, he hoped to be able to support himself and his estranged younger sister. Now he settles for dreams of hot food and a warm bed.

History:
Ronan was born and raised in the thickly forested marshes of the Korcari Wilds, counting himself among the Chasind- the hardy people who had settled flecks of dry land in the otherwise inhospitable region. Danger was the way of life, here. Children learned young to travel in groups when they went to play outside the safety of the village walls. Ronan spent his childhood clambering about crumbling ruins, shooting sticks from his toy bow. Out in the bogs, he played dangerous games of hide-and-seek amongst the trees.

When he was nine, the gods finally deemed him fit for a little sister who would survive beyond her first months. But this new addition, young Amelia, brought joy to their otherwise demanding lives. With a new mouth to feed, Ronan began in earnest to follow his father along on hunting trips, eager to help his family (and his village) survive. Long hours of target practice were followed by days-long hunting trips, huddled together with his father and three other hunters around a fire while they waited for the sun to rise.

During the Fourth Blight, his village was burned to the ground. A thirteen-year-old Ronan fled east with his family, including his four-year-old sister, toward the Brecilian Forest. During the night, they were ambushed; Ronan and Amelia joined the hundreds of others made orphans by the Blight. Ronan and his sister starved for nearly a week before being taken in by another group of refugees, who got the siblings to walled village in the forest. From there, they were taken in by the Chantry.

Discomforted by the vastly different way of life, but seeing that his sister was better off under their care, Ronan struck out alone at fifteen. Surviving in an unfamiliar environment ended up entailing a lot more stealing than he had planned, and without shelter he was forced to defend himself against people and animals alike. It wasn’t until a woman took him under her wing that he found legitimate path, and for a while made an honest but boring living running errands for her.

He was in Denerim on business he was found standing, wild-eyed, over the bloody body of Paul Leandres, the youngest son of a notoriously shady noble, as the Denerim guards kicked down the door. Nelwa first saw him being dragged from the Leandres Estate kicking and screaming. He managed to break the noses of two guardsmen before being wrestled, face-down, to the ground. For a moment as he was being dragged away, hands bound behind him, his frenzied, panicked stare met her gaze. Intrigued, she visited the jail and found the feral man in his cell. He was able to convince her that he was innocent of the crime, and she invoked the Right of Conscription to save him from the gallows.

Appearance:
Working on it! (here's proof)
Ronan wears his rough upbringing plainly, a perpetually tired-looking five-foot-eight-inch-tall figure with unkempt black hair and a disagreeable attitude. The smooth brown skin of his face is disrupted by a scar on his cheek, and to a lesser extent, a nick above his left eye. His eyebrows are thick and expressive, often pulled down to enhance his glaring power. Other scars are interspersed throughout, particularly on his hands and forearms, and two that appear to be healed stab wounds in his back.

Pokemon

Pokemon: Taillow; Unnamed, called by whistling.

Gender: Male

Encountered: The Taillow took an interest in Ronan shortly after he left the Chantry. He would sing to the Chasind boy, who at first, found the noise annoying, but when the Taillow swooped down to pull the hair of a girl he’d been scrapping with (giving him just enough time for Ronan to get in the final hit) that he considered the positives of their partnership. Once he opened his heart, the two became a tight pair.

Disposition:
+ observant
- moody
+ loyal

Assistance: Can deliver messages, scout ahead, and provide a brief distraction in battle.

Appearance:

A standard Taillow; forked tail, shiny blue feathers and a white underside, and rays of red between the eyes and on the throat.

An Introduction

@Billsomething Ooo, thank you! I'll keep that in mind for character testing!
@CallMeChaotix Hello!

Game of Thrones: The Long Night

Sounds fun! I'm in.

An Introduction

Yes, I am! I'm looking through the forums right now. I'd prefer something smaller to start but I'll take anything that hooks me, haha.