Vanq

Dragon Age: Grey Dawn

Morning came early, the sun had barely broken against the horizon, but Shiathari awoke eagerly. The small room she had been allotted was a courtesy, one all to herself, though she expected it was more to do with the complaints from others regarding her animal infirmary. It didn’t seem to bother her guest, the man snored softly next to her, undisturbed at such an early hour or by her movements. She sighed, a mix of annoyance and playfulness, as she nudged him.

“You need to leave, before the others see you.”

Perhaps the fraternization of two wardens who had survived their joining together and had travelled for years together before returning to the fortress would be understood. Shiathari was certain their senior warden had known and turned a blind eye to it. Still, discretion was best. Her request was met with a slightly louder snore.

She nudged him harder, enough to lift his shoulder from the cot. “And I have to get dressed for the stables.” The elf slapped lightly at his chest as she threw one leg over him and then to the floor. “Honestly, how are you still so impossible?”

That earned one eye opening and glaring at her. “One day, you’ll let me sleep in.” His voice rumbled, crusted with the remnants of sleep.

She only responded with a quick shake of her head as she ran her hands through long locks of hair, braiding them quickly into something manageable. Shia turned from him and pulled herself together in a tunic and leggings, leather boots, and her satchel.

The man behind her stood at last and approached her from behind, his frame hulking over hers. “See you tonight?” Same as always, his tone was casual, but she knew the eagerness there.

“Edrick” She shrugged out of his embrace with a judgemental glance. “Playing with fire if we do that. But…I’ll see you at dinner, okay?” She didn’t wait a beat for his response. “Now, go.”

It was just a small collection of injured things in her room at the moment. She’d released a nest of fledglings the week before, just in time for the little kits to have opened their eyes and start being mischievous. She had moved them to the kennels, one of the mabari bitches had been convinced that the little ones were her own and was raising them after losing hers. She had little to take care of before she went to see to her actual duties now that her companion had left.

The stables were a fair hike from her room, but it was quiet still this time of the day. Noises of the fortress waking beyond the steady rhythm of the night watch only just began as she reached the stables that housed the famed griffons. She clucked to them as she passed their stalls, each their own personality and quirks. Some were still sleepily awaking, their beaked maws opened wide with grunting yawns. Others, much like Shia herself, were eagerly awake looking for their breakfast or rider. Other stable hands came in, not a lowly job the same as mucking out horse stalls, the griffins were majestic creatures, but dangerous, independent in who they chose to allow near them. Her and the others had been chosen for how well the griffons took to them, not the other way around, much the same as how riders were chosen.

She worked through the morning with a quick break to eat a hearty lunch. She joined a small group of the others, a mix of humans and elves. They chatted quietly, went over anything unusual or amusing that their charges had gotten into, and then separated back to their duties. Shiathari spent the rest of the afternoon with the youngest of the griffons. Only a couple feet long, their adult plumage not fully come in. Play was just as important as anything else and she enjoyed taking them out to the pens to get in a good round of play hunting and training. They were not large enough to carry a rider, but they would be soon and so they bore the small training saddles to get them used to the feeling, even before they could fully fly.

As the afternoon ended and she knew it’d be time to clean up for dinner and the address they had all been called in for, she chose one final griffon to bid farewell to for the day. He was her personal favorite, a griffon that she swore would be a sarcastic bastard if he could speak. He’d not yet picked a rider, and had turned his beak up to the many potentials he had met. That at least was the good outcome, more than one warden had received a hard nip or wing slap.

Shia approached his stall, she’d heard him stamping about impatiently before she could even see the doors. “Tsk, tsk, little Quill.” He made a sound that she was certain was full of profanities for how late it was. “Don’t worry that big dumb head of yours, I have your favorite.” She pulled a freshly dressed hare out from behind her back and swung it lightly in front of him. “Be good for it now.”

Quill stomped a bit more, his head swinging from side to side. A shrieking huff carried down the stables but Shia held firm. “This is why no one likes you…except for me, little bastard.” His feathers ruffled up with another huff, but he cocked his head at her, an intelligent eye holding her firm in its gaze. The griffon’s feathers smoothed and he politely sat, with just one final annoyed rumble from its throat. “That’s a good boy.”

The elf opened his stall door and entered. She ran her fingers through the feathers at the side of his head and felt his head press into her. She murmured a few more words before backing far enough away to toss the hare into the air. Quill barely needed to move to snatch it with one crunch. “Only had the one today, my friend.” He nudged his head into her abdomen, hard enough that she lost her footing for just a moment. “Still only had the one.” She chided him softly with a chuckle. “And now I have to go see what the first warden has in store for us.”

Shia gave the creature a final half hug as it nuzzled into her. She locked the stall and headed to the baths to rinse away the dust and grime. She hadn't put on the regalia in some time, not since her last official outing months ago. She'd freshly polished the metal, treated the leather, and brushed the cloth out til it looked near enough to new. It wasn't her favorite duty, and though she was far off from being a senior warden, she still felt the weight of wanting to prove herself. Even if it had been ages since someone called her girl and told her to fetch some trivial thing. With the fortress grown more crowded from visiting dignitaries and their staff, she did not want to take the chance.

She was ready, she thought, for whatever the First Warden needed of her.

Dragon Age: Grey Dawn

Shiathari

The Snake of Ansburg

| {Full Name} |

Shiathari

| {Age} |

32

| {Species} |

Elf

| {Gender} |

Female

| {Class/subclass} |

Rogue | Ranger

---

| {Appearance} |

Like most of her kind, Shia is short next to a human and tall next to a dwarf. She is slim and lithe, but with a surprising layer of firm muscle from years of manual labor and then hard training. She’s scarred, less than many, more than some. The healed wounds were inevitable even before joining the Wardens. While it’s not the most practical, she has been resistant to cutting her long, dark brown hair. A sentimentality to it that she can’t explain, but she opts to braid and twist into flat buns to fit beneath a helmet.

There is a harshness to her, even when she smiles. Some mistake it for haughtiness and even at rest, a gaze from her light brown eyes feels full of judgement. Shia carries herself with a lightness in her movements, nearly a dance, and her footsteps quiet as a mouse. She has jump-scared more than one hulking warrior in her time with the Wardens.

| {Equipment and Personal Belongings} |

• Warden Light Armor: Standard Warden scouting kit - Similar to this, minus the unnecessary cape and shoulder ornamentation
• 2 obsidian daggers
• Spiked Longbow + arrows
• Mother’s journal: Shia’s mother kept a journal, largely of recipes for potions and tonics, also notes of people’s ailments, what worked/didn’t, etc.

| {Skills} |

• Sneaking: Adept at getting in and out of places unseen, better suited for it in natural environments or forests than urban
• Trap-making: Can make and deploy simple traps - for battle or for survival
• Animal Companion: Can tame wild animals with ease, good at reading animal behaviors even with previously unmet creatures; currently has a small wolf that seeks her out when she leaves the fortress
• Foraging

| {Talents} |

• Archery: Primary and default option for fighting, Shia prefers to attack from a distance where she can control the ground
• Dual-wield: When necessary, she’ll fight up close
• Evade: Her preference though is to get away, whether to circle back and flank the enemy who’d found her, get help, or just live to fight another day

| {Spells} |

N/A

| {Home/Family} |

Shia’s family originally hails from Tevinter, her mother an escaped slave that made it to Hasmal with her three young children. Their father was never spoken of, but Shia assumes he remained in Tevinter for reasons either sad or enraging. Her mother was a mage of weak talent, not useful to her masters beyond menial tasks. In Hasmal, it became apparent that the eldest child, Shia’s brother, was a mage and so he was sent to the Kirkwall Circle. After that, Shia, her mother, and her sister, made their way east before finally settling in the backwaters of Ansburg. Shia’s mother passed away a few years later, and the sister ran away to “find her people.” Shia has not heard from sister nor brother in many, many years.

| {Flaws and limits} |

• Shallow: Shia prefers the obvious, without a deep or philosophical approach to life or the greater mysteries of the world. This extends to her interactions with others, while she can be friendly and does not hide away from others, her relationships tend to be surface level.
• Prejudice: Shia distrusts Tevinters and anyone who she considers a zealot (for her, defined as a devout believer in their religion)

---

| {Personality} |

Shia has never felt at home anywhere, a fact that her extended time at Weisshaupt has not completely inverted. Still, her restlessness and lack of anchor to any one place has not made her resentful of company, comradery, or companionship. Once others see past the harshness and occasional indifference, they find a woman who does know how to laugh and enjoy the fleeting good times.

While she does not distrust all humans as a whole, her views on any Tevinters is heavily jaded. The Dalish confound her more than anything else, and other “city” elves often had a much harder life than her. Magic does worry her, even though she left Tevinter with barely any memories of it, what she does remember was awful. Her time in the Free Marches only seemed to show her what a lack of overt magic could offer, and certainly for her, that was a better life, for the most part. While she often feels like she doesn’t quite fit in to any group, she has found something nearing family with the Wardens - warts and all, if the stories she had heard had any hint of truth to them.

The one thing that she cannot tolerate for any length of time is a religious zealot. Shia loudly, and sometimes obnoxiously, is vehemently an unbeliever in any god or gods. The Maker? Pah. Andraste? She seemed like a good woman, a shame the religion grew and flourished as it did. The Dalish pantheon of gods? Clearly useless. The old gods? Humans would invent anything to justify their atrocities. Ancestor worship and holy stone? Shia finds it less outrageous but will still roll her eyes at a dwarf going on about it. The Blight, darkspawn, and archdemons? Well, Shia knows the darkspawn are real and that they’re lead by something, but that doesn’t mean it’s an old god waking to wreak destruction. Some things are just evil without any greater meaning behind it.

The elven rogue retains a soft spot for animals of almost any kind. It has not been uncommon for her commander to find her asleep in her griffin’s stall. She’s been known to capture and relocate creepy crawlies from tents, and tends a small menagerie of injured critters in her room.

| {Background} |

Shia was born in Tevinter, her mother a slave to a minor magister of Perivantium. She was the youngest of three children, and has few memories of what life was like in Tevinter other than stories from her mother and older siblings. Shia’s mother fled with them to when Shia was barely six years old. They arrived in Hasmal, a common destination for escaped slaves and refugees, in 9:25 DA. But their time there was not easy or peaceful.

Shia’s mother had been gifted with a weak ability for magic. Small enough that she was able to easily hide it and did not miss using it beyond small acts as a village healer. Her only son, Shia’s eldest sibling, though, began to show signs less than a year after arriving in Hasmal. He was quickly found out and Templars removed him swiftly to take to the Kirkwall Circle. The family, now Shia, her mother, and elder sister, chose to move on from Hasmal lest they draw more attention to themselves.

Eventually they settled in Ansburg, the backwater Free City that few had reason to linger in or seek out, a bustling city for agricultural trade but little else. Eleven years old now, her sister fourteen, the girls helped their mother as she settled into the role of village healer and potion-maker. Shia would spend her days in the wilderness outside of the city, collecting herbs, foraging, and hunting. Sometimes she’d spend her nights out there too, to enjoy a life away from the crowds and smells of a city, even one like Ansburg.

They remained largely unbothered, outside of the expected prejudices and treatment. The semi-peaceful life ended when Shia’s mother unexpectedly died a few years later in 9:33. She grew ill, and no matter that she had helped so many, the aid was not returned. She wasted away in a painful death. A few days after she was laid to rest, Shia’s sister ran away. She had left a note explaining that living among the shemlen would kill them all, that she had gone to find their “real” people. Shia knew a Dalish clan had gone by recently, her sister had begged that they join them together but Shia had refused. What were they to these nomads?

She was alone now though, only fifteen. Her time spent in the forests had trained her for something she had never thought would be useful. She signed on with a small group that offered trade caravans protection into and out of the city. She was decent with a bow, better with setting traps, and unafraid of having to get in close. Shia also proved to have a way with animals. She tamed a large wolf to accompany her on her longer journeys and would stay with her in the forests around Ansburg.

Eventually she had made a bit of a name for herself within the city. In some ways this was literal, when the name “the snake” stuck, for her ability to get in and out of places nearly unseen and unheard. She had an uncanny ability of being able to ambush her ambushers as well. With notoriety came its own set of problems. Not everyone cared for an elf making such strides for herself. And the elves of the city did not care for her lack of interest in furthering their own causes.

Still, it all gave her an opportunity to grow a good safety net of coin for herself. As that net grew, she formed plans for going somewhere else. And then the damn world fell apart, again.

When news had originally arrived of the troubles in Kirkwall, Shia had wanted to go there, to find her brother. But she hadn’t heard from him since their mother died. A letter had arrived very delayed, a few small sentiments scrawled in shaky handwriting. Her return letters had gone unanswered, she assumed he died in the chaos. News from the south never seemed to bring anything good with it.

In 9:40, as she was again preparing to leave Ansburg due to some unfortunate disagreements with local guild leaders. She had been coming back to her city after completing an escort to Wycome and was nearly home when sounds of a scuffle caught her attention. Though she nearly convinced herself it wasn’t her problem, she instead snuck towards the sound. Though she had never seen one in person, she immediately recognized a small group of Grey Wardens facing off against one of the gangs that plagued Ansburg. In smaller numbers, she was certain the Wardens would not have needed aid. But one was already down and the remaining two seemed to have been at it for some time. Shia joined their fight from the outskirts, setting their cart ablaze and then picking one off with her bow before charging in with daggers. The distraction was enough that the Wardens were able to recover and dispatch the remaining attackers.

She had not planned to join them beyond traveling with them back to Ansburg for supplies. As she traveled the last two days with them though, the leader of the group asked if she would consider it. Shia was caught off guard, but though she had made something for herself in her corner of the Free Marches, there were no guarantees. When the trio were done restocking in Ansburg, Shia was waiting for them, her meager belongings tied in a pack, a wild dog at her side.

Her joining did not take place for nearly a year as they traveled west, back to Hasmal, to the border of Tevinter. The wardens had found three other recruits along the way, another elf, and two humans. The four of them went through the ritual together. Shia survived it as well as one of the humans. It was 9:41 and the news that the group of now five Grey Wardens received in their travels gave them pause. They had originally intended to go south but instead set off through Nevarra and towards the Anderfels.

It was not a direct path, there was no reason for them to return to Weisshaupt directly, and it provided ample training for the two new recruits. But it still was not an easy time. One of the senior recruits disappeared one night, only leaving behind a note that it was her time. The other eventually broke away to head south with reasons left unexplained to the new wardens, but it was clear to Shia that the remaining senior warden was uneasy about it.

The trio carried on, though the refugees they encountered along the way carried with them horrific and mostly unbelievable stories from elsewhere. They avoided direct involvement, busying themselves with small excursions along the borders of Nevarra, Orlais, and Tevinter. When word finally reached them towards the end of 9:45 to return to Weisshaupt, Shia was more than ready to see what the Warden fortress was like with her own eyes - even if the stories about what the Orlesian Wardens had done gave her pause.

Her natural talent for animals made her an immediate choice to work with the griffins, though her designation as a scout has meant she has not formally bonded one herself. She helps the warriors who have been bonded and is a keeper for hatchlings and young ones until they can be bonded. She’s also participated in smaller excursions outside of Weisshaupt from time to time. Until recently, when she was selected to accompany the expedition into the deep roads.

Dragon Age: Grey Dawn

Shiathari

The Snake of Ansburg

| {Full Name} |

Shiathari

| {Age} |

32

| {Species} |

Elf

| {Gender} |

Female

| {Class/subclass} |

Rogue | Ranger

---

| {Appearance} |

Like most of her kind, Shia is short next to a human and tall next to a dwarf. She is slim and lithe, but with a surprising layer of firm muscle from years of manual labor and then hard training. She’s scarred, less than many, more than some. The healed wounds were inevitable even before joining the Wardens. While it’s not the most practical, she has been resistant to cutting her long, dark brown hair. A sentimentality to it that she can’t explain, but she opts to braid and twist into flat buns to fit beneath a helmet.

There is a harshness to her, even when she smiles. Some mistake it for haughtiness and even at rest, a gaze from her light brown eyes feels full of judgement. Shia carries herself with a lightness in her movements, nearly a dance, and her footsteps quiet as a mouse. She has jump-scared more than one hulking warrior in her time with the Wardens.

| {Equipment and Personal Belongings} |

• Warden Light Armor: Standard Warden scouting kit - Similar to this, minus the unnecessary cape and shoulder ornamentation
• 2 obsidian daggers
• Spiked Longbow + arrows
• Mother’s journal: Shia’s mother kept a journal, largely of recipes for potions and tonics, also notes of people’s ailments, what worked/didn’t, etc.

| {Skills} |

• Sneaking: Adept at getting in and out of places unseen, better suited for it in natural environments or forests than urban
• Trap-making: Can make and deploy simple traps - for battle or for survival
• Animal Companion: Can tame wild animals with ease, good at reading animal behaviors even with previously unmet creatures; currently has a small wolf that seeks her out when she leaves the fortress
• Foraging

| {Talents} |

• Archery: Primary and default option for fighting, Shia prefers to attack from a distance where she can control the ground
• Dual-wield: When necessary, she’ll fight up close
• Evade: Her preference though is to get away, whether to circle back and flank the enemy who’d found her, get help, or just live to fight another day

| {Spells} |

N/A

| {Home/Family} |

Shia’s family originally hails from Tevinter, her mother an escaped slave that made it to Hasmal with her three young children. Their father was never spoken of, but Shia assumes he remained in Tevinter for reasons either sad or enraging. Her mother was a mage of weak talent, not useful to her masters beyond menial tasks. In Hasmal, it became apparent that the eldest child, Shia’s brother, was a mage and so he was sent to the Kirkwall Circle. After that, Shia, her mother, and her sister, made their way east before finally settling in the backwaters of Ansburg. Shia’s mother passed away a few years later, and the sister ran away to “find her people.” Shia has not heard from sister nor brother in many, many years.

| {Flaws and limits} |

• Shallow: Shia prefers the obvious, without a deep or philosophical approach to life or the greater mysteries of the world. This extends to her interactions with others, while she can be friendly and does not hide away from others, her relationships tend to be surface level.
• Prejudice: Shia distrusts Tevinters and anyone who she considers a zealot (for her, defined as a devout believer in their religion)

---

| {Personality} |

Shia has never felt at home anywhere, a fact that her extended time at Weisshaupt has not completely inverted. Still, her restlessness and lack of anchor to any one place has not made her resentful of company, comradery, or companionship. Once others see past the harshness and occasional indifference, they find a woman who does know how to laugh and enjoy the fleeting good times.

While she does not distrust all humans as a whole, her views on any Tevinters is heavily jaded. The Dalish confound her more than anything else, and other “city” elves often had a much harder life than her. Magic does worry her, even though she left Tevinter with barely any memories of it, what she does remember was awful. Her time in the Free Marches only seemed to show her what a lack of overt magic could offer, and certainly for her, that was a better life, for the most part. While she often feels like she doesn’t quite fit in to any group, she has found something nearing family with the Wardens - warts and all, if the stories she had heard had any hint of truth to them.

The one thing that she cannot tolerate for any length of time is a religious zealot. Shia loudly, and sometimes obnoxiously, is vehemently an unbeliever in any god or gods. The Maker? Pah. Andraste? She seemed like a good woman, a shame the religion grew and flourished as it did. The Dalish pantheon of gods? Clearly useless. The old gods? Humans would invent anything to justify their atrocities. Ancestor worship and holy stone? Shia finds it less outrageous but will still roll her eyes at a dwarf going on about it. The Blight, darkspawn, and archdemons? Well, Shia knows the darkspawn are real and that they’re lead by something, but that doesn’t mean it’s an old god waking to wreak destruction. Some things are just evil without any greater meaning behind it.

The elven rogue retains a soft spot for animals of almost any kind. It has not been uncommon for her commander to find her asleep in her griffin’s stall. She’s been known to capture and relocate creepy crawlies from tents, and tends a small menagerie of injured critters in her room.

| {Background} |

Shia was born in Tevinter, her mother a slave to a minor magister of Perivantium. She was the youngest of three children, and has few memories of what life was like in Tevinter other than stories from her mother and older siblings. Shia’s mother fled with them to when Shia was barely six years old. They arrived in Hasmal, a common destination for escaped slaves and refugees, in 9:25 DA. But their time there was not easy or peaceful.

Shia’s mother had been gifted with a weak ability for magic. Small enough that she was able to easily hide it and did not miss using it beyond small acts as a village healer. Her only son, Shia’s eldest sibling, though, began to show signs less than a year after arriving in Hasmal. He was quickly found out and Templars removed him swiftly to take to the Kirkwall Circle. The family, now Shia, her mother, and elder sister, chose to move on from Hasmal lest they draw more attention to themselves.

Eventually they settled in Ansburg, the backwater Free City that few had reason to linger in or seek out, a bustling city for agricultural trade but little else. Eleven years old now, her sister fourteen, the girls helped their mother as she settled into the role of village healer and potion-maker. Shia would spend her days in the wilderness outside of the city, collecting herbs, foraging, and hunting. Sometimes she’d spend her nights out there too, to enjoy a life away from the crowds and smells of a city, even one like Ansburg.

They remained largely unbothered, outside of the expected prejudices and treatment. The semi-peaceful life ended when Shia’s mother unexpectedly died a few years later in 9:33. She grew ill, and no matter that she had helped so many, the aid was not returned. She wasted away in a painful death. A few days after she was laid to rest, Shia’s sister ran away. She had left a note explaining that living among the shemlen would kill them all, that she had gone to find their “real” people. Shia knew a Dalish clan had gone by recently, her sister had begged that they join them together but Shia had refused. What were they to these nomads?

She was alone now though, only fifteen. Her time spent in the forests had trained her for something she had never thought would be useful. She signed on with a small group that offered trade caravans protection into and out of the city. She was decent with a bow, better with setting traps, and unafraid of having to get in close. Shia also proved to have a way with animals. She tamed a large wolf to accompany her on her longer journeys and would stay with her in the forests around Ansburg.

Eventually she had made a bit of a name for herself within the city. In some ways this was literal, when the name “the snake” stuck, for her ability to get in and out of places nearly unseen and unheard. She had an uncanny ability of being able to ambush her ambushers as well. With notoriety came its own set of problems. Not everyone cared for an elf making such strides for herself. And the elves of the city did not care for her lack of interest in furthering their own causes.

Still, it all gave her an opportunity to grow a good safety net of coin for herself. As that net grew, she formed plans for going somewhere else. And then the damn world fell apart, again.

When news had originally arrived of the troubles in Kirkwall, Shia had wanted to go there, to find her brother. But she hadn’t heard from him since their mother died. A letter had arrived very delayed, a few small sentiments scrawled in shaky handwriting. Her return letters had gone unanswered, she assumed he died in the chaos. News from the south never seemed to bring anything good with it.

In 9:40, as she was again preparing to leave Ansburg due to some unfortunate disagreements with local guild leaders. She had been coming back to her city after completing an escort to Wycome and was nearly home when sounds of a scuffle caught her attention. Though she nearly convinced herself it wasn’t her problem, she instead snuck towards the sound. Though she had never seen one in person, she immediately recognized a small group of Grey Wardens facing off against one of the gangs that plagued Ansburg. In smaller numbers, she was certain the Wardens would not have needed aid. But one was already down and the remaining two seemed to have been at it for some time. Shia joined their fight from the outskirts, setting their cart ablaze and then picking one off with her bow before charging in with daggers. The distraction was enough that the Wardens were able to recover and dispatch the remaining attackers.

She had not planned to join them beyond traveling with them back to Ansburg for supplies. As she traveled the last two days with them though, the leader of the group asked if she would consider it. Shia was caught off guard, but though she had made something for herself in her corner of the Free Marches, there were no guarantees. When the trio were done restocking in Ansburg, Shia was waiting for them, her meager belongings tied in a pack, a wild dog at her side.

Her joining did not take place for nearly a year as they traveled west, back to Hasmal, to the border of Tevinter. The wardens had found three other recruits along the way, another elf, and two humans. The four of them went through the ritual together. Shia survived it as well as one of the humans. It was 9:41 and the news that the group of now five Grey Wardens received in their travels gave them pause. They had originally intended to go south but instead set off through Nevarra and towards the Anderfels.

It was not a direct path, there was no reason for them to return to Weisshaupt directly, and it provided ample training for the two new recruits. But it still was not an easy time. One of the senior recruits disappeared one night, only leaving behind a note that it was her time. The other eventually broke away to head south with reasons left unexplained to the new wardens, but it was clear to Shia that the remaining senior warden was uneasy about it.

The trio carried on, though the refugees they encountered along the way carried with them horrific and mostly unbelievable stories from elsewhere. They avoided direct involvement, busying themselves with small excursions along the borders of Nevarra, Orlais, and Tevinter. When word finally reached them towards the end of 9:45 to return to Weisshaupt, Shia was more than ready to see what the Warden fortress was like with her own eyes - even if the stories about what the Orlesian Wardens had done gave her pause.

Her natural talent for animals made her an immediate choice to work with the griffins, though her designation as a scout has meant she has not formally bonded one herself. She helps the warriors who have been bonded and is a keeper for hatchlings and young ones until they can be bonded. She’s also participated in smaller excursions outside of Weisshaupt from time to time. Until recently, when she was selected to accompany the expedition into the deep roads.

Dragon Age: Grey Dawn

@Apollosarcher
You got me, damn it.

Palingenesia: A Modern Greek Gods Saga

I rescind my laugh.

What a fun and interesting idea, whoever came up with is must truly be a genius.

@Ezekiel

Palingenesia: A Modern Greek Gods Saga

We'll be working on the OOC this week! Glad to see the interest :)

Palingenesia: A Modern Greek Gods Saga

@shagranoz Hecate is a titan, so not a minor god, but she would be fair game!

Palingenesia: A Modern Greek Gods Saga

And you have my interest dang it Vanq.

@Apollosarcher

Sorry not sorry

Palingenesia: A Modern Greek Gods Saga

Palingenesia:

A Modern Greek Gods Saga

---

---

_{with @Ezekiel}

Power cannot exist without faith, not even that of the gods.

Millenia of war, of strife, of bitter blood feuds eroded the gods’ powers. A little at first, nothing to be concerned with as humanity’s tongues changed and morphed. A few brought their concerns to Olympus, signs and portents of what was to become of them. Zeus refused to hear of it and the others largely fell in line. They were unwilling or unable to face their fate. Most carried on as they always had, falsely secure in their supremacy. By the time they were relegated to stories, to nothing more than myths, even the Olympians slumbered in an aether, separate from the mortal realm and their own, they remained suspended in the space-in-between.

Humanity moved on, evolved. They inherited a vibrant world, became masters of it and its deepest mysteries. Their power was uncontested and unchecked except amongst themselves. They warred, they stripped the planet bare, they howled to the empty universe around them that it did not offer them more, that it did not other them an escape from the hell they had created for themselves. Disasters plagued them, but they did not submit quietly to the rising temperatures and oceans. They did not stop even as famine and droughts ravaged their lands or viruses their bodies. Their feuds and hatred deepened until all out nuclear war nearly wiped them from the planet.

Nuclear power, the concentrated rending of the cosmos, stirred ancient slumbering things. The gods and more ancient titans began to stir, first to consciousness but still adrift in a vast emptiness. Their long dreams ended, their hopes and desires and fears made real in the unending sleep dissipated. They woke to find the world that had left them behind had paid for it dearly.

Though some hesitated to assist the mortal realm, the knowledge of what irrelevance had done to them was still fresh and biting. Most eventually agreed to work together to mend what had broken. And in rebuilding the world that humanity has destroyed, the gods had peace among themselves for some time. Old grievances were ignored while there was so much work to be done, while there was so much of humanity eager for them. There was no shortage, even in their diminished state, of mortals to worship them.

Equilibrium would never have lasted long, and it did not. The world was restored, though not returned to what it once had been. Mortals built great monuments and temples once again, and soon, the gods eyed each other as competition. They began their ancient dance for power and quickly reverted to using mortals as their pawns in a great game. War was inevitable.

When it broke out, it was a revolt against Zeus. Had it not been him who had led them to their insignificance in the first place? Who was he to try and crown himself again, after all his failures? The battle raged bright and hot until an unexpected interference from the mortals. Their nuclear weapons had not been exhausted in their wars, and stockpiles had been uncovered. Though few would say it aloud, they could destroy the gods as much as their distant power could wake them.

The Olympians called a cease-fire to secure the weapons away and to find a way forward. Agreements were reached in what came to be known as The Accords. Even as his allies signed with the rebellion, Zeus refused. He fled to raise new armies, to find new allies. In the end, he was captured and imprisoned like the Titans he had once overthrown.

The Accords gave each god provenance over their own realms as they were. Any gods found to be meddling beyond their spheres of influence or their geographic domains, would be held accountable by their peers. There was to be no king of the gods.

And for a time, it has worked. Humanity flourished in a new golden age under the gods’ thumbs. Not all remain pleased with the new status quo - god or mortal. A new threat has formed within humanity, small enclaves brought together by shared, virulently anti-god beliefs. The gods had not found all the weapon stockpiles and these enclaves now control those that had been hidden. Far removed from the great metropolises that had formed, the gods watch and worry from a distance. Rumors of something else borne from the ashes of Old-Earth plague gods and mortals alike. Surely it is a just a story,

TL;DR:

• The gods went to sleep because of irrelevance (3rd-4th century CE)
• In that time humanity got big and strong then did bad things to the earth and themselves (mid-21st century CE)
• It's been roughly 400 years since humanity nearly erased itself from existence (approaching the 22nd century CE, now notated as NE - for “New Era”)
  
  • The gods restored the world in the course of about a century
  • God civil-war for 50 years
  • The Accords has been in place for about 200 years
• Humanity, with the gods’ aid, has rebuilt to essentially (our) modern levels
• The world looks different, there will be a map
• Main Factions:
  
  • The gods and demi-gods
  • Personifications, spirits, and other mythological humanoids (nymphs, dryads, etc.)
  • Mortals
• Sub-factions:
  
  • Gods and their supernatural underlings can be roughly categorized by how they feel towards humanity and their fellow gods
  • Mortals/humans have those who are fervent in their beliefs, passive, or the smallest group who are militantly anti-god and known as the Misotheists

Other Notes:

You will be more than welcome to create multiple characters across the factions. Writing standards and expectations are casual though may dip into “advanced” territory thanks to our love of writing collabs in place of shorter back-and-forth posts. That will largely be a personal decision for how you prefer to write.

Creating a god or other mythological character will be left to your creativity - pick and choose the myths and how they occurred in the character’s ancient histories or in their re-awakening. This also means crafting shared history among your characters is heavily encouraged.

Hades, Hera, Demeter, and Persephone are being used as GM characters (by Ezekiel and me), and Zeus will be unplayable due to him being…indisposed. For the main Olympian gods that leaves the following open to play.

• Poseidon
• Hestia
• Aphrodite
• Ares
• Hephaestus
• Apollo
• Artemis
• Athena
• Hermes
• Dionysus

Palingenesia: A Modern Greek Gods Saga

Palingenesia:

A Modern Greek Gods Saga

---

---

_{with @Ezekiel}

Power cannot exist without faith, not even that of the gods.

Millenia of war, of strife, of bitter blood feuds eroded the gods’ powers. A little at first, nothing to be concerned with as humanity’s tongues changed and morphed. A few brought their concerns to Olympus, signs and portents of what was to become of them. Zeus refused to hear of it and the others largely fell in line. They were unwilling or unable to face their fate. Most carried on as they always had, falsely secure in their supremacy. By the time they were relegated to stories, to nothing more than myths, even the Olympians slumbered in an aether, separate from the mortal realm and their own, they remained suspended in the space-in-between.

Humanity moved on, evolved. They inherited a vibrant world, became masters of it and its deepest mysteries. Their power was uncontested and unchecked except amongst themselves. They warred, they stripped the planet bare, they howled to the empty universe around them that it did not offer them more, that it did not other them an escape from the hell they had created for themselves. Disasters plagued them, but they did not submit quietly to the rising temperatures and oceans. They did not stop even as famine and droughts ravaged their lands or viruses their bodies. Their feuds and hatred deepened until all out nuclear war nearly wiped them from the planet.

Nuclear power, the concentrated rending of the cosmos, stirred ancient slumbering things. The gods and more ancient titans began to stir, first to consciousness but still adrift in a vast emptiness. Their long dreams ended, their hopes and desires and fears made real in the unending sleep dissipated. They woke to find the world that had left them behind had paid for it dearly.

Though some hesitated to assist the mortal realm, the knowledge of what irrelevance had done to them was still fresh and biting. Most eventually agreed to work together to mend what had broken. And in rebuilding the world that humanity has destroyed, the gods had peace among themselves for some time. Old grievances were ignored while there was so much work to be done, while there was so much of humanity eager for them. There was no shortage, even in their diminished state, of mortals to worship them.

Equilibrium would never have lasted long, and it did not. The world was restored, though not returned to what it once had been. Mortals built great monuments and temples once again, and soon, the gods eyed each other as competition. They began their ancient dance for power and quickly reverted to using mortals as their pawns in a great game. War was inevitable.

When it broke out, it was a revolt against Zeus. Had it not been him who had led them to their insignificance in the first place? Who was he to try and crown himself again, after all his failures? The battle raged bright and hot until an unexpected interference from the mortals. Their nuclear weapons had not been exhausted in their wars, and stockpiles had been uncovered. Though few would say it aloud, they could destroy the gods as much as their distant power could wake them.

The Olympians called a cease-fire to secure the weapons away and to find a way forward. Agreements were reached in what came to be known as The Accords. Even as his allies signed with the rebellion, Zeus refused. He fled to raise new armies, to find new allies. In the end, he was captured and imprisoned like the Titans he had once overthrown.

The Accords gave each god provenance over their own realms as they were. Any gods found to be meddling beyond their spheres of influence or their geographic domains, would be held accountable by their peers. There was to be no king of the gods.

And for a time, it has worked. Humanity flourished in a new golden age under the gods’ thumbs. Not all remain pleased with the new status quo - god or mortal. A new threat has formed within humanity, small enclaves brought together by shared, virulently anti-god beliefs. The gods had not found all the weapon stockpiles and these enclaves now control those that had been hidden. Far removed from the great metropolises that had formed, the gods watch and worry from a distance. Rumors of something else borne from the ashes of Old-Earth plague gods and mortals alike. Surely it is a just a story,

TL;DR:

• The gods went to sleep because of irrelevance (3rd-4th century CE)
• In that time humanity got big and strong then did bad things to the earth and themselves (mid-21st century CE)
• It's been roughly 400 years since humanity nearly erased itself from existence (approaching the 22nd century CE, now notated as NE - for “New Era”)
  
  • The gods restored the world in the course of about a century
  • God civil-war for 50 years
  • The Accords has been in place for about 200 years
• Humanity, with the gods’ aid, has rebuilt to essentially (our) modern levels
• The world looks different, there will be a map
• Main Factions:
  
  • The gods and demi-gods
  • Personifications, spirits, and other mythological humanoids (nymphs, dryads, etc.)
  • Mortals
• Sub-factions:
  
  • Gods and their supernatural underlings can be roughly categorized by how they feel towards humanity and their fellow gods
  • Mortals/humans have those who are fervent in their beliefs, passive, or the smallest group who are militantly anti-god and known as the Misotheists

Other Notes:

You will be more than welcome to create multiple characters across the factions. Writing standards and expectations are casual though may dip into “advanced” territory thanks to our love of writing collabs in place of shorter back-and-forth posts. That will largely be a personal decision for how you prefer to write.

Creating a god or other mythological character will be left to your creativity - pick and choose the myths and how they occurred in the character’s ancient histories or in their re-awakening. This also means crafting shared history among your characters is heavily encouraged.

Hades, Hera, Demeter, and Persephone are being used as GM characters (by Ezekiel and me), and Zeus will be unplayable due to him being…indisposed. For the main Olympian gods that leaves the following open to play.

• Poseidon
• Hestia
• Aphrodite
• Ares
• Hephaestus
• Apollo
• Artemis
• Athena
• Hermes
• Dionysus