Post by Daerwyn Morelen on May 13, 2013 20:20:39 GMT -5
GENERAL
Full Name: Daerwyn Morelen(Dire-wehn Mor-eh-lehn) “Great One Blackstar”; Aleia “bright one” to family
Race: Human
Age: 29
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual (with a slight preference for men)
Birthplace: Rivain
Residence: Wheresoever she lays her head
Affiliation: Self/Dalish/Whoever pays the most
Occupation: Entertainment
Religion: Vir Tanadahl, mostly, ish
COMBAT
Class: Rogue
Character Stats:
(You begin with six points, which you can divide within the group below as you want. For each level you get, you gain one point. This is what makes your character special, and each attribute has its advantages.)
Strength: 1
Dexterity: 2
Willpower: 1
Magic: 0
Cunning: 2
Spells: N/A
Gear: Ironbark shortbow, steel bladed weapon set (two short swords, four daggers), hardened leather armour; lap harp, dancing costume x2 including wrist and ankle bells and veils, set of six juggling balls, set of five juggling knives, face paints.
Example of dancing costume: Fabric is tie-dyed in multiple shades of blue. Small silver chiming bells fastened to bracelets at wrist, elbow and the middle of upper arm linked by two strips of silken fabric. Sleeves attached to the main body of the gown with silver beading at the shoulder scattering down across front of dress down to the ankle-length hem. Skirt is loose, layered strips that flare as wearer moves to show off legs.
CHARACTERISTICS
Appearance: Slim, athletic, graceful, with warmly tanned skin, beguiling caramel eyes and hair that runs the gamut of shades from soft sunbeam to golden honey to sun-kissed corn to warm treacle - her hair is usually tied up in a braid when travelling, left artfully semi-loose when juggling or seeking work and left to drift about her head and shoulders like a heavy veil when she dances. Her face is oval in shape, with high cheekbones, a pert nose and full lips - pixie-faced, sweet, innocent, puckish even. Her fingertips are callused - typical of an archer – and she has a small scar on her left hand between index and middle fingers where she missed a catch with a knife that follows the palm line but just above it. The only other mark she has is a faint elven-styled vine in a colour one shade darker than her skin tone from ankle to waist on the outside of her right leg.
Personality: Bright, quick with a smile, doesn't seek trouble (mostly) but will enjoy the rush anyway; playful, somewhat flirtatious with it; very reserved regarding her private past - weaving tales that may or may not have truly happened – people need to earn her trust to learn more about her parents and relationships. Despite her lack of religious commitment she will swear by Dalish gods as appropriate.
HISTORY
(This would be your character's story. How was he/she raised? How did he/she get to where he/she is?)
As told to the child, Daerwyn was born to a human mother and an elven father and raised by her father’s Dalish clan. Her mother passed shortly after the birth due to complications that could not be attended as the road back to Rivain after the Arlathvhen was long with no aid nearby, an event that neither father nor daughter speaks of. She learned archery and survival skills alongside the Dalish children, songs and music, although she wasn’t held to the same level of accuracy as the other children – being human she can’t pass on Dalish traditions or add to the clans number so the need for her to be well versed wasn’t there – which didn’t stop her from practising alone. Her father would often find her quietly singing to herself before bed, making sure she had the music right, or performing little dance steps as a way to ‘picture the melody’. She holds to no particular religion or god but does find some measure of satisfaction in the Vir Tanadahl – a trying situation that neither her father nor the Keeper can understand or sway her into more committed belief. What neither elf could really fathom – being Dalish – was that the human child always felt that she wasn’t meant to be with her father’s people so his ways never truly felt comfortable to her.
Due to this sense of being in the wrong place, although never directly ostracised, when she came of age it made sense for Daerwyn to leave Rivain and seek her fortunes – and possibly the right place to be - elsewhere. Being slim, lithe and flexible it was simple to find ways to make ends meet; dancing and juggling made her a tempting distraction from life whilst pick-pocketing and lock-picking provided quick cash bonuses and her talent with throwing blades kept too eager hands well out of the way. She’s been making her way across Thedas, meeting with Dalish where she can – proving herself with knowledge of Dalish ways no shem would truly understand and ensuring she always brought a gift to repay hospitality.
There are fond memories from her childhood – days spent with the other youngsters, playing, learning, training – that she keeps close to her heart, never letting them go. One such memory is of her first kiss with a boy who later was paired with another; a minor pain that only served to drive her more firmly toward the decision to leave once she gained maturity. She has always regretted that she never said goodbye to her father, leaving behind only a brief letter that apologised but as she is shemlan not Dalish she couldn’t stay, she had to find somewhere that she belonged. She hasn’t been back to Rivain since.
At the time Ferelden was dealing with the Blight, Daerwyn was in Antiva – specifically Rialto –where she expanded her knowledge of dance, first learned to juggle with something other than balls and ran into the Crows for the first time through making acquaintance with one of their number. The young woman, named as Thera by Daerwyn, was one of the Rivainers’ tutors; this tutelage was a cover, of course, for Thera’s activities but the true extent of her plans was never made known to her pupil. The two women had an easy relationship that bordered on mutual trust but certainly revolved around love of music, living in interesting times and being free spirits. Daerwyn stayed a year in Rialto, leaving only when she received a cryptic warning that “Spirits best to remain free that do not stay when sunset comes.”; oddly enough the owner of the house in which she was staying was killed that night and everyone came under interrogation..except the young half-elf who had left a few hours previously. Since then Daerwyn has travelled throughout Thedas, spending time in the Arlathan Forest, Nevarra, Starkhaven, Ghislain, Val Royeaux, Halamshiral...plenty of places available to stop by when a girl can dance and has been on the road for her entire adult life.
Daerwyn is familiar with the Gray Wardens, having met a few, entertained a few, pickpocketed a couple when they got a little too brash for her liking...even bedded a couple that really impressed her (although not at the same time). She’s also heard the tales of the Hero of Ferelden and the Fifth Blight – the entire history of the Wardens, their tragic nature and legendary exploits are both amusing and something to admire – so she’s willing to cut them some slack in dealing with them. After the Dalish it could almost be said that Wardens are her favourite people...almost...as Daerwyn is, after all, on a personal quest and she always comes first.
She’s no adventurer. She’s no saint. Daerwyn is a creature that seeks only to keep herself in food, water, clothing and gear for as long as she needs it. Of course, if she happens to have some fun along the way, who is she to say no?
(Her full history is an ongoing work in progress to be updated as she reveals more of herself through active play. There are some secrets in her past - some even she is unaware of - but those latter are TBC)
BEHIND THE MASK
Player’s Pen Name: Just call me Dae or Daer – I promise not to stay IC when it’s supposed to be OOC
Contact: Board mail is good! I check in a-plenty with this sorta thing.
Roleplay Experience: Been rping for about fifteen years – AD&D, World of Darkness (1st Edition), Dark Heresy, Star Wars – all as tabletop – and even a couple years of Vampire The Masquerade as live action.
Language(s): English. Does sarcasm count?
How did you find us?: Via Bioware Social
Roleplay Sample:
Roleplay Sample: Writing sample...ok...uhm...
Sorrow, like spider silk, clung to her hair and robe, glistening with the dew drops of her tears. Where once her gown had glimmered with golden threads upon sapphire hues, the tender velvets twirling and bouncing in joyous declaration, now the folds lay dormant and demure about her body, colours muted by the delicate touch of the eternal morning mists. Bare skin glides across chilled, dampened soil, her expensive boots long since taken by the cool, still waters that surround her. Her hands remain clasped in prayer, her rose-pink lips barely twitching as her voice, with its sweet tone of a thousand larks, endures confinement everlasting.
She waits. She waits for the summons that may never come again. Her tears shed and her prayers for the dead unending, she waits to do that for which she was chosen and chose to do though her lonely fate seems sealed. Her love, her life, her king - all lost, to time and myth and disbelief, forgotten and ill-kept by those who should have remembered. So she prays and she waits for belief to come again.
The mists open, cradling her close as her bare feet slip through the fresh grass in its silken caress. Upon her brow, for a moment as she turns, it seems that diamonds glitter and her lips are curved in a gentle smile, her eyes alight with knowledge that she will never share. Then she is gone, sorrow her companion once more as she resumes her lonely vigil, waiting for the right time to come, upon the shores of Avalon.
Password: Divine
