Post by Arcill on Feb 8, 2012 14:54:22 GMT -5
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Full Name: Arcill Ar Kattrin O Axehold (Arcill son of Kattrin of Axehold)
Race: Human
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Birthplace: Axehold, Frostback Mountains
Residence: Currently wandering throughout Thedas
Affiliation: Avvar
Occupation: Chieftain son
Religion: Avvarian belief`s.
Class: Warrior
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. Each attribute has maximum seven slots. This is what makes your character special, and each attribute has its advantages.)
Strength: 2
Dexterity: 2
Willpower: 1
Magic:
Cunning: 1
Gear: Like all other Avvars, Arcill dresses himself in fur and leather made for extreme weather. Being of the Axehold tribe atomically makes him a man who has to carry an axe and a shield; he also owns a sword that was given to him by his father, traded from the dwarves.
Appearance: Arcill is a large man, tall and muscular, shaped after the extreme cold weather of the Frostback Mountains. Outsiders may think of him as a filthy and a hairy man, but wandering through the wild has made him as he is. He has long black hair, which rarely has been cut and he does have a beard whenever he decides not to remove it with the knife. His eyes are cold and murdererous, able to intimidate with only a look.
Personality: Being one of the Avvar may make Arcill look like an outsider to many, his understandings for the nature and things are different than what other sees it as, considering his belief`s in the Avvarian gods most precious to his tribe: Korth the Mountain Father, Haakon Wintersbreath and the Lady of the Skies. Among his deceased people he was respected and feared, due to his incredible feats. Arcill is a brave man and a risk taker, whom uses whenever an opportunity presents itself to secure his goal. Arcill is also a quiet man, who speaks only when needed, thus there is always a great mystery about him. He gets often quick angered and is such a dangerous man to be close to, should he feel the need of expressing his anger in a most violent way. All in all, he is savage, wild and brutal.
Arcill was born and raised in Axehold, far into the Frostback Mountains that divides Ferelden from the Orlesian Empire, being the firstborn son of the chieftain. There he grew up with his family and friends, becoming a skilled and a respected warrior, handling the axe and the shield with perfection. During his childhood years he often took risks in climbing on dangerous places and his friends was always more scared than he was, because of it he was far more quickly respected than anyone else, as it should be, considering that he was the heir and the future leader of the tribe. It was however during the times of his youth, that his tribe began fighting another tribe for dominance over the region they lived. The war between them caused heavy casualties on both sides, and Arcill`s mother was one of those unlucky ones. She died when he was at the age of six, but growing up surrounded by war made him a bloodthirsty person, one who learned to use hate against his enemies and whom would take vengeance on all those who caused him pain.
As Arcill reached the teenage years of his life, a peace was made with the rival tribe as another began expanding through their region, and they together had to work as one to defeat them. This made it difficult for Arcill, because he still felt hate for those whom had killed his dear friends and his mother, but his father did not seem to care none the less, seeing that he already had taken a new woman as wife and had been blessed with more children.
Growing up Arcill became stronger and tougher, his male friends began to fear him and the women began to adore him. His brute strength and his quick temper often made him a powerful ally and a strongly feared enemy, going on raids after raids to bring more trophies to his tribe and family. His great skills in climbing the hills and understanding how one could track became well needed during those times, and it was as well during those times that he himself decided to take a wife. As the traditions of the Avvar were, one had to sneak in and kidnap the woman one would want to marry and it were only if the Avvar was unnoticed that one were allowed to do such a thing. The woman could easily resist if she wanted, but if she was captured and none found clues of whom did it, before it was proclaimed, than the woman and her family would have no choice no matter her wish. Gladly Arcill and his woman had already fallen in love before he decided to capture her, and when he succeeded a great celebration was held for his triumph. The woman although had come from one of the neighboring allied tribes, the Spearhold tribe, a people known for their deadly accuracy with their valued spears.
While the war continued to escalate, Arcill made sure to make every day the very best, both for his himself and his wife. With the rival clan who had allied themselves to his, he ended the war against those others more powerful and once it was settled, peace existed for a while. In reward he was given a sword named Grimwald by his father, a sword that had been traded from the dwarves, and the people within the tribe loved him for what he had done. After the war Arcill began to develop thoughts of bringing the Avvars together, wanting them to unite against another common enemy whom all their people had hated since the day of their birth. His wife wanted him to settle and forget about wars and fights, but Arcill would not listen. He wanted more glory and a better future, not only for those of his tribe, but for all the Avvars. Without the permission of his father, Arcill began to gather his friends and allies who also wished revenge on the people of Ferelden, though as his thoughts began to spread among the Avvars there were those who disliked his ideas.
One night as his entire tribe was asleep, they were all suddenly attacked. It was their old rivals who had come to bring an end to Arcill`s vision and with force they brutally fought their way into the tribe and slaughtered all on their path. Screams and chaos roamed the tribe and a grim fate fell upon them all. Arcill witnessed the death of his father, by the hand of the rival chieftain and without any choice; Arcill was forced to flee with his wife. As they tried to run away, two arrows was shot at them and one of them hit Arcill`s dear wife, she died in his arms and Arcill screamed of revenge. His bloodlust made him kill sixteen men whom came running at him, but as more and more came he knew that he had to flee, only to return another day.
Player’s Pen Name: Daniel/High Warden
Contact: PM me or e-mail me.
Roleplay Experience: 9 Years
Language(s): Norwegian
How did you find us?: I`m the admin so
Roleplay Sample:
Password: ******* (Checked and Correct)
GENERAL
Full Name: Arcill Ar Kattrin O Axehold (Arcill son of Kattrin of Axehold)
Race: Human
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Birthplace: Axehold, Frostback Mountains
Residence: Currently wandering throughout Thedas
Affiliation: Avvar
Occupation: Chieftain son
Religion: Avvarian belief`s.
COMBAT
Class: Warrior
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. Each attribute has maximum seven slots. This is what makes your character special, and each attribute has its advantages.)
Strength: 2
Dexterity: 2
Willpower: 1
Magic:
Cunning: 1
Gear: Like all other Avvars, Arcill dresses himself in fur and leather made for extreme weather. Being of the Axehold tribe atomically makes him a man who has to carry an axe and a shield; he also owns a sword that was given to him by his father, traded from the dwarves.
CHARACTERISTICS
Appearance: Arcill is a large man, tall and muscular, shaped after the extreme cold weather of the Frostback Mountains. Outsiders may think of him as a filthy and a hairy man, but wandering through the wild has made him as he is. He has long black hair, which rarely has been cut and he does have a beard whenever he decides not to remove it with the knife. His eyes are cold and murdererous, able to intimidate with only a look.
Personality: Being one of the Avvar may make Arcill look like an outsider to many, his understandings for the nature and things are different than what other sees it as, considering his belief`s in the Avvarian gods most precious to his tribe: Korth the Mountain Father, Haakon Wintersbreath and the Lady of the Skies. Among his deceased people he was respected and feared, due to his incredible feats. Arcill is a brave man and a risk taker, whom uses whenever an opportunity presents itself to secure his goal. Arcill is also a quiet man, who speaks only when needed, thus there is always a great mystery about him. He gets often quick angered and is such a dangerous man to be close to, should he feel the need of expressing his anger in a most violent way. All in all, he is savage, wild and brutal.
HISTORY
Arcill was born and raised in Axehold, far into the Frostback Mountains that divides Ferelden from the Orlesian Empire, being the firstborn son of the chieftain. There he grew up with his family and friends, becoming a skilled and a respected warrior, handling the axe and the shield with perfection. During his childhood years he often took risks in climbing on dangerous places and his friends was always more scared than he was, because of it he was far more quickly respected than anyone else, as it should be, considering that he was the heir and the future leader of the tribe. It was however during the times of his youth, that his tribe began fighting another tribe for dominance over the region they lived. The war between them caused heavy casualties on both sides, and Arcill`s mother was one of those unlucky ones. She died when he was at the age of six, but growing up surrounded by war made him a bloodthirsty person, one who learned to use hate against his enemies and whom would take vengeance on all those who caused him pain.
As Arcill reached the teenage years of his life, a peace was made with the rival tribe as another began expanding through their region, and they together had to work as one to defeat them. This made it difficult for Arcill, because he still felt hate for those whom had killed his dear friends and his mother, but his father did not seem to care none the less, seeing that he already had taken a new woman as wife and had been blessed with more children.
Growing up Arcill became stronger and tougher, his male friends began to fear him and the women began to adore him. His brute strength and his quick temper often made him a powerful ally and a strongly feared enemy, going on raids after raids to bring more trophies to his tribe and family. His great skills in climbing the hills and understanding how one could track became well needed during those times, and it was as well during those times that he himself decided to take a wife. As the traditions of the Avvar were, one had to sneak in and kidnap the woman one would want to marry and it were only if the Avvar was unnoticed that one were allowed to do such a thing. The woman could easily resist if she wanted, but if she was captured and none found clues of whom did it, before it was proclaimed, than the woman and her family would have no choice no matter her wish. Gladly Arcill and his woman had already fallen in love before he decided to capture her, and when he succeeded a great celebration was held for his triumph. The woman although had come from one of the neighboring allied tribes, the Spearhold tribe, a people known for their deadly accuracy with their valued spears.
While the war continued to escalate, Arcill made sure to make every day the very best, both for his himself and his wife. With the rival clan who had allied themselves to his, he ended the war against those others more powerful and once it was settled, peace existed for a while. In reward he was given a sword named Grimwald by his father, a sword that had been traded from the dwarves, and the people within the tribe loved him for what he had done. After the war Arcill began to develop thoughts of bringing the Avvars together, wanting them to unite against another common enemy whom all their people had hated since the day of their birth. His wife wanted him to settle and forget about wars and fights, but Arcill would not listen. He wanted more glory and a better future, not only for those of his tribe, but for all the Avvars. Without the permission of his father, Arcill began to gather his friends and allies who also wished revenge on the people of Ferelden, though as his thoughts began to spread among the Avvars there were those who disliked his ideas.
One night as his entire tribe was asleep, they were all suddenly attacked. It was their old rivals who had come to bring an end to Arcill`s vision and with force they brutally fought their way into the tribe and slaughtered all on their path. Screams and chaos roamed the tribe and a grim fate fell upon them all. Arcill witnessed the death of his father, by the hand of the rival chieftain and without any choice; Arcill was forced to flee with his wife. As they tried to run away, two arrows was shot at them and one of them hit Arcill`s dear wife, she died in his arms and Arcill screamed of revenge. His bloodlust made him kill sixteen men whom came running at him, but as more and more came he knew that he had to flee, only to return another day.
BEHIND THE MASK
Player’s Pen Name: Daniel/High Warden
Contact: PM me or e-mail me.
Roleplay Experience: 9 Years
Language(s): Norwegian
How did you find us?: I`m the admin so
Roleplay Sample:
As Alistair were about to leave the estate, he was escorted out by an Orlesian servant elf that had followed Empress Celene to Ferelden. She opened the door to him and Alistair was allowed to leave, he smiled and nodded in return, but just when he was about to say something to the elf the door slammed shut. How rude Alistair thought, slamming the door just like that in front of the king of Ferelden. Perhaps she did not like nobles, well who wouldn`t, especially after what all the servant elves in Orlais had to endure, or elsewhere for that matter. Even in Ferelden there had been much quarrel between the elves and the humans, far more than Alistair had thought it could be. Since Alistair had appointed a part of the Korcari Wilds to the Elves and made Shianni their ambassador, the people had grown so angry that they had gone to murder the favored she-elf Shianni, and not only that, many nobles in the south had begun conflicts with those elves whom had saved them from the blight. It had all become quite a mess, though still after many years of trouble, Alistair was determined to solve the situation, some way or another.
With the door locked and Alistair now in the street, he turned to look around and see if there were many people staring at him, hoping not many had noticed his long stay over the night, gladly there was none at the moment. In the distance the sun rose ever higher and from it came a bright light that made his sight weary, Alistair raised his hand to block the sunlight, but as he did so a tall figure came in the way. She was tall and a beautiful woman, who walked proud and gracefully across the street, two guards following her. Alistair swallowed heavily and sighed, it was as he previously had feared, Anora, his wife, had again gone to look for him. How many times did he need to explain himself to her? Too many times had it been. As she approached Alistair quickly he tried to put a smile on his face, even he knew what now came would embarrass him in front of the guards and probably the people who soon would start flocking.
Wow, this would be difficult to explain Alistair thought to himself as Anora approached. Staying up all night with Empress of Orlais would surely bring heavy suspicion to his whereabouts, but no matter what, Alistair would tell the truth, because he was an honest man after all, and he really didn’t enjoy lying, nor was he good at it, people figured him out far too easily. Looking at Anora as she came closer, Alistair could see her grim expression and her cold looking eyes, she was not happy, no not at all. “Eh…Hello to you too, wife, my Queen.” Alistair said with a faint smile after she spoke to him, slowly beginning to become uneasy and he knew she did not like what he just had done. “I and the Empress have just been discussing important matters Anora, nothing to get upset about, it`s not like I was dressed in fancy Orlesian dresses and run around the room, yelling: Maker, Maker, come and save me!” He joked and waved his hands up in the air strangely. “Anyway, yes, your right, we should return to the palace and attend to other matters.” Alistair said more serious as he cleared his throat, looking with a forgiving look, hoping she would forgive him.
With the door locked and Alistair now in the street, he turned to look around and see if there were many people staring at him, hoping not many had noticed his long stay over the night, gladly there was none at the moment. In the distance the sun rose ever higher and from it came a bright light that made his sight weary, Alistair raised his hand to block the sunlight, but as he did so a tall figure came in the way. She was tall and a beautiful woman, who walked proud and gracefully across the street, two guards following her. Alistair swallowed heavily and sighed, it was as he previously had feared, Anora, his wife, had again gone to look for him. How many times did he need to explain himself to her? Too many times had it been. As she approached Alistair quickly he tried to put a smile on his face, even he knew what now came would embarrass him in front of the guards and probably the people who soon would start flocking.
Wow, this would be difficult to explain Alistair thought to himself as Anora approached. Staying up all night with Empress of Orlais would surely bring heavy suspicion to his whereabouts, but no matter what, Alistair would tell the truth, because he was an honest man after all, and he really didn’t enjoy lying, nor was he good at it, people figured him out far too easily. Looking at Anora as she came closer, Alistair could see her grim expression and her cold looking eyes, she was not happy, no not at all. “Eh…Hello to you too, wife, my Queen.” Alistair said with a faint smile after she spoke to him, slowly beginning to become uneasy and he knew she did not like what he just had done. “I and the Empress have just been discussing important matters Anora, nothing to get upset about, it`s not like I was dressed in fancy Orlesian dresses and run around the room, yelling: Maker, Maker, come and save me!” He joked and waved his hands up in the air strangely. “Anyway, yes, your right, we should return to the palace and attend to other matters.” Alistair said more serious as he cleared his throat, looking with a forgiving look, hoping she would forgive him.
Password: ******* (Checked and Correct)
