Race: Human
Nationality/Birthplace: Ferelden born and bred.
Attributes:
1) Aggression
2) Dexterity
3) Machiavellian
Background: Joras was born on a clear, starry night, to a proud and wealthy arl, whose love of his wife could only be matched by love of his country. The baby Joras was swaddled in soft blankets before being anointed by the mother that was in attendance. The babe gave no cries, and as the precious oils were swabbed on his forehead, the arl knew his boy would grow to become a strong, loyal Ferelden, destined to have a strong voice in the landsmeet, and who would bring honor and glory to their home.
He uh, was pretty far off.
Joras grew to become an intelligent enough child. He could grasp the lessons taught by his tutors after a bit of explanation, but there was no spark of genius. Force him to read a tome and he could repeat back the main idea, make him study a map and he was able to roughly place the cities and landmarks. His father’s ambitions of his son’s future glories were not shaken though, an arl could have advisors to assist him in administration, what a nobleman needed was strength of arms.
And strength of arms Joras had in abundance. Like all good Ferelden noblemen, he started his martial training at a very young age, wielding a lead-weighted sword in one hand and a buckler in the other. He was quick on his feet, even when weighed down with training armor. His father loved to watch his son spar, and envisioned him carrying the family banner into battle, cutting down Orlesian scum left and right.
By the age of thirteen, Joras abandoned the buckler and picked up a second training sword. With two blades in his hands he could strike twice as much, making him a ferocious opponent to face. By fifteen he could match almost anyone his age, and many more that were older. Those with the proper training however, could notice his flaw, he struck quickly and aggressively, and although his form was excellent, it would turn sloppy as . When Joras fought, he went in for the kill.
A strong enough mind, and masterful skill at arms, it would have seemed like Joras would be a fantastic arl to carry on his father’s legacy. Unfortunately, Joras was an aggressive child. At twelve, he broke the boy who filled his cup’s nose for some minor reason. At fourteen, he was found on top of a servant, beating him senseless. The other incidents were kept quiet with the right word and coin from the arl.
It wasn’t that the boy was necessarily an angry person, he simply loved the fight. He loved to hurt, to inflict pain when he could. In a desperate attempt to curb the boy’s appetites, his father brought him on numerous hunting trips and encouraged his martial training. A particularly good hunt would keep Joras still for a while, but he always returned to his violent ways.
The older Joras grew, the more it became apparent that these were more than the makings of merely an aggressive warrior. Many men left battle feeling alive, they enjoyed the blood rush and the adrenaline that pumped through their veins, but Joras was frightening. He fought with a smile on his face, enjoying every blow that glanced off his armor, every moment his blades struck an enemy’s flesh, and even the cuts that would crisscross his skin from a foe’s weapons.
There was no way around it. It wasn’t just combat that Joras craved. It was violence.
Luckily for his father, a second son had been born. Joras’s sibling was everything that he failed to be. Kind where he was cruel. Patient where he was quick. Forgiving where he was aggressive. He was loved by his tutors for his ability to pick up his lessons in no time at all, and although his skill at arms left something to be desired, he could make a fine arl.
With his brother being groomed in order to take control of their father’s lands and estates, Joras was approached by his father and given an ultimatum. He was going to abandon all claims to their family’s land, give up the title of heir, and enlist in the Grey Wardens, where his skill in combat could be of use to their fellow Fereldens. If he did not, then he would find himself on a hunt one day, with a loosened saddle, and he would fall from his horse, and break his neck. His father was a loyal man, a veteran of the war against Orlais, and Joras in command of the house would mean a weaker Ferelden.
The commander of the Grey Wardens accepted the arl’s request to place his son in their ranks. Joras drank deep from the cup that contained the darkspawn blood and lyrium, and survived his Joining. Now, Joras finds himself as Ostagar, knows only one thing.
Darkspawn can feel pain, and he can’t wait to see how much they can take before they scream.
Personality: Sadistic is one word to describe Joras Telrik. The concept of pain holds great appeal to him, particularly if he is the one inflicting it on someone else. To the (further) disgust of many, he maintains a good-natured attitude about everything, often cracking jokes during serious (or life-threatening) situations. Despite enjoying certain people’s company, he rarely tends to call anyone friend, nor is he a very loyal individual, either to Ferelden or the Grey Wardens. One thing that CAN be said about him though is that he’s an honest individual, he won’t lie about his loyalty, and will openly admit that fighting the Darkspawn is an easier way to deal with his temptations than hurting his fellow humans.
As far as morals go, Joras’s could be considered their own shades of blue and orange. He isn’t an ‘evil person’ so to say, he doesn’t exactly spend his time kicking puppies or burning villages, but he is cruel and selfish. The majority of his actions are done because of they serve him in some way, even if only because they give him some form of pleasure.
Skills:
1) Dual Weapons
2) Tracking (Woods)
3) Combat Tactics
4) History
5) Coercion
6) Etiquette
Knack: While he maintains the education of an average nobleman, the one area of academics that Joras excelled at was military matters. Give him a map and the troop markers, and he should be able to find a way to route the enemy…if at the expense of his own men.
Combat style: Joras’s fighting is an elegant mixture of rigorous training and unholy aggression. When combat begins, he falls into a form that was drilled into him by his master-at-arms, and is capable of parrying, disarming, and performing almost every move that’s written in the fencing books. However, he’s fueled by a sort of sick hostility, and stops at nothing to do as much damage to his opponents as possible. Why parry the blade and follow with a lunge when you can sidestep and stab the point of your sword straight through the bastard’s eye?
Equipment:
Steel Armor
Two Veridium Shortswords
2 ‘Health’ Potions
A Dagger, sheathed at the back of his waist.
Advantages: Pain Tolerance. Despite his love of inflicting pain, when his adrenaline starts pumping, Joras doesn’t mind the cuts and bruises coming his way. Every attack that hits his armor or grazes his skin drives him into a deeper fury.
Flaw(s): If you want to be blunt, Joras could be considered a few soldiers short of a full regiment. His fascination with violence, while useful for cutting down Darkspawn, won’t earn him many friends amongst the Grey Wardens. And despite his father’s best attempts, word tends to leak out that the son of a powerful noble is prone to such aggressive actions.