Post by Lithawen on Sept 4, 2014 17:52:30 GMT -6
Character Name: Lithawen Surana
Age: 19
Sex: Female
Race: Dalish Elf
Class: Mage
Specializations: Arcane Warrior, Keeper
Favored skills: Fade Shroud
Hobbies: Reading,
Background: Lithawen was born Dalish and grew up free for 13 years. She would often venture off into the woods after her clan made camp. The elf fancied herself a Ruin hunter. After being named the First of her clan, Lithawen was shown some ruins by the Keeper. This inspired her to try and discover all that she could from these mysterious places, and Ferelden seemed to source of this rich history.
That day she peeked around trees and shrubs in the woods looking for some sign of ancient mysteries. The girl had been so sure of herself, of her own magic, years of practicing yet it all faded away in a second with their Templar talents. And then they were on her, binding her hands and dragging her off to the Circle of Magi. It happened so fast she wasn't even sure her clan, her family, would know what happened to her.
Her life in the tower was almost like a day dream at first, so strange and foreign was this way of life. They took away her Dalish attire and dressed her in the robes of the order. The classes were easy enough, magic was a gift that she had been honing since before she practiced her letters and manners. It was the history that stumped her, she cared little for these small-ears history of conquest, a particularly touchy topic for her.
The elf kept to herself, studying her standard magic in class, and sneaking away at night to practice her Arcane Warrior and Keeper craft. She didn't want them to know what she could truly do, and so she played dumb and dumber as the years pressed on. In the wilds her clan named her the First, and she had every desire to return to them. In the quiet hours of the night she would steal away and poke and prob at the defenses.
In the dark of the night, on her 17th birthday, Lithawen was able to slip through the patrols and to the bowls of the tower, so deep the floor was made of dirt and mud. There was a hole in the wall she had been opening carefully for just that night, tree roots supporting the area she had removed the stones from. No one noticed she was gone until she was long gone.
The darkspawn were gruesome and hideous things. The elf, tired and hungry, stumbled on them in early dusk. She crept along slowly, and quietly, but a scout caught sight of her and sounded the alarm.
Duncan. He saved her life and saw potential in her, so he had her drink from the cup and become tainted beyond repair. Only one other survived, Alistair he called himself. Lithawen scuffed at him every time he tried to talk to her. She was sent to Orlais with messages begging for help form the Wardens there. The boarders were closed because of the Blight. And the majority of the company traveled back to the nearest town, a few senior wardens pushed on alone.
Lithawen fought the darkspawn that would have attacked the small village. With an active blight, even if they weren't in the thick of it, there was plenty to kill. After the blight, it became boring, and mostly about politics. The elf was told what to do, where to go, what to bring, who to protect. She felt almost as nomadic as when she was with her clan.
Personality: An angry little elf
Weapons/Armor: A long sword and a dagger and a bow
Appearance: Drawing her now
Age: 19
Sex: Female
Race: Dalish Elf
Class: Mage
Specializations: Arcane Warrior, Keeper
Favored skills: Fade Shroud
Hobbies: Reading,
Background: Lithawen was born Dalish and grew up free for 13 years. She would often venture off into the woods after her clan made camp. The elf fancied herself a Ruin hunter. After being named the First of her clan, Lithawen was shown some ruins by the Keeper. This inspired her to try and discover all that she could from these mysterious places, and Ferelden seemed to source of this rich history.
That day she peeked around trees and shrubs in the woods looking for some sign of ancient mysteries. The girl had been so sure of herself, of her own magic, years of practicing yet it all faded away in a second with their Templar talents. And then they were on her, binding her hands and dragging her off to the Circle of Magi. It happened so fast she wasn't even sure her clan, her family, would know what happened to her.
Her life in the tower was almost like a day dream at first, so strange and foreign was this way of life. They took away her Dalish attire and dressed her in the robes of the order. The classes were easy enough, magic was a gift that she had been honing since before she practiced her letters and manners. It was the history that stumped her, she cared little for these small-ears history of conquest, a particularly touchy topic for her.
The elf kept to herself, studying her standard magic in class, and sneaking away at night to practice her Arcane Warrior and Keeper craft. She didn't want them to know what she could truly do, and so she played dumb and dumber as the years pressed on. In the wilds her clan named her the First, and she had every desire to return to them. In the quiet hours of the night she would steal away and poke and prob at the defenses.
In the dark of the night, on her 17th birthday, Lithawen was able to slip through the patrols and to the bowls of the tower, so deep the floor was made of dirt and mud. There was a hole in the wall she had been opening carefully for just that night, tree roots supporting the area she had removed the stones from. No one noticed she was gone until she was long gone.
The darkspawn were gruesome and hideous things. The elf, tired and hungry, stumbled on them in early dusk. She crept along slowly, and quietly, but a scout caught sight of her and sounded the alarm.
Duncan. He saved her life and saw potential in her, so he had her drink from the cup and become tainted beyond repair. Only one other survived, Alistair he called himself. Lithawen scuffed at him every time he tried to talk to her. She was sent to Orlais with messages begging for help form the Wardens there. The boarders were closed because of the Blight. And the majority of the company traveled back to the nearest town, a few senior wardens pushed on alone.
Lithawen fought the darkspawn that would have attacked the small village. With an active blight, even if they weren't in the thick of it, there was plenty to kill. After the blight, it became boring, and mostly about politics. The elf was told what to do, where to go, what to bring, who to protect. She felt almost as nomadic as when she was with her clan.
Personality: An angry little elf
Weapons/Armor: A long sword and a dagger and a bow
Appearance: Drawing her now