Post by David on Apr 29, 2012 2:43:29 GMT -5
(ok, it's done for now. LMK if I need to edit anything!
"Well, at least they had the courtesy of missing..."
Full Name: David Bouvier de Jader
Race: Human
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Birthplace: Jader, Orlais
Residence: Wherever the army needs him.
Affiliation: Orlesian Loyalist (loyal to Empress Celene.)
Occupation: Knight-Lieutenant
Religion: Andrastian
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. This is what makes your character special, and each attribute has its advantages.)
Strength:2
Dexterity:1
Willpower:2
Magic:
Cunning:1
Gear: Standard infantry steel blade, Standard metal kite shield, and Orlesian battle armor. (note, not the chevalier armor, as he is not a chevalier. Think instead "armor of the fallen" style.)
His unit He has a command of a platoon of 40 men. He had 15 men at arms (sword and shield), 10 halberd-men (men armed with halberds, a pike-axe combenation), 5 berserkers (longswordmen), and 10 archers. While small, his band of men are fiercely loyal, as David watches out for them as if they were his own flesh and blood. While many officers David's age have at least 3 times as many men, David had the tendency to piss off all the wrong people, and since he is not of noble blood there is very little chance for David to promote beyond his station (unless, of course, there happened to be some event during the RP that promoted him)
Appearance: Dark brown hair with light blue/grey eyes. Standing roughly 5'9, he has an athletic body type. On his shoulder, he has his heraldry (or what he'd like his heraldry to be) tattooed, which is a dark blue kite shield, a red x, and a black lion laying next to a white lamb.
Personality: Well educated for a "commoner," he is very intelligent and has a voracious appetite for books. At a young age, he was instilled with the virtues of loyalty, honor, personal courage, and a sense of duty by his father who had once been a chevalier. An 'uncle' to his men, he's compassionate and tends to show mercy to his enemies, naively believing sometimes that they would do the same for him. He also cares deeply about the welfare of his troops, but is a bit too attached to them, and questions orders given by superiors that he deems unnecessarily place his men in harms way. He is fairly stubborn, and tends to piss off alot of his superiors. He has developed a bit of a sarcastic sense of humor, as his natural defense against the "stupidity" of the chevaliers culture and their attitude of invulnerability, one which he has quite often seen go terribly, terribly wrong.
Journal entry marked 9:34 Dragon
Finally, I get to wear the officer's sash on my uniform. It looks... Weird. I had never expected the opportunity to wear one of these things. I guess father was right when he said the armee was where I needed to be to move up in this world. Perhaps a man can change his stars?
Still, the fact that I am wearing this thing is more out of dumb luck than skill. Well... I wouldn't call it luck. Damned chevalier should have known we were walking straight into an ambush. For Andraste's sake, how does one march us straight into the middle of the Dales without even posting archers to the front as reconnaissance!?! Damned fool... It's a miracle we made it out of that forest alive.
Still, the men are grateful for the fact that I'm now in charge of them. Better one of "their own" instead of another windbag from Val Royeux trying to explain why he's smarter than we are. These are good men, and soldiers like them deserve better than that. They deserve someone like me, who would actually give a damn about them when the time came to it.
But... Perhaps I need to tone this down a bit. Maker forbid this journal be found by some half-wit chevalier who actually knows how to read... Can't let them see my ambition... This system has a way of crushing men like me. Better lay low for a while...
(This would be your character's story. How was he/she raised? How did he/she get to where he/she is?)
Born 9:15 Dragon, he is the son of an Orlesian Chevalier, Richard Bouvier de Lydes, and a traveling Ferelden tutor, Amelia Chaucer. Due to his marriage to a Ferelden, Richard was forced to renounce his rank and title, and moved with his pregnant wife to the city of Jader, near the Ferelden border, where he became a merchant, and Amelia would tutor the children of the city's nobility.
His younger days were relatively happy. His father was well-to-do, as he used his old connections to make a decent amount of money trading with the dwarves of Orzammar and the newly-liberated Ferelden. His mother would often bring him along with her when she went to a noble's house, and it wasn't uncommon to see him learning the same material as the noble children did. The hostility he felt from the noble children, however, was constant, as he typically picked up on the lessons much faster than they did. This developed not so much a hatred but a distrust of the nobility, and made him question the system of noble entitlement, a system which he had to bow and give deference to men and women who often, in his mind, did not know what they were talking about. This would cause trouble in his teen years, and would be a point of friction with his father, who at one point had been part of the system. His constant lack of deferential behavior towards the noble teens his age whenever his mother went to their homes to tutor them nearly cost his mother his job, and his father nearly lost half his business when he called the daughter of the Comte de Jader a "spoiled little pouffiase(whore-slut-bitch)" after she knocked him over with her horse at the market. However, some of his father's lessons on loyalty and duty did take, for at the age of 18 he joined the infantry.
With his natural ability and courage, and some of his father's influence, he was able to rise through the ranks quickly, becoming a sergeant within the first year. It is then when he proved himself, when his unit accidentally caused an incident with a dalish clan. The noble commander in charge of the unit had been killed rather quickly by an arrow to the throat, and David quickly took the reins of the unit and repelled the Dalish attack. Impressed by his heroism, the Captain field-promoted David to lieutenant, though David has not advanced from that rank since that time, as his old attitude toward the nobility tended to surface itself in all the wrong places.
When the mage-templar war began, David did not think about his choice. He is an Orlesian soldier, who swore an oath of fidelity to the empress. Despite his misgivings about the aristocracy he makes it a point to not go back on his word, and as a result now stands ready to fight for his country.
While technically a part of Gespard's army, he and a cabal of officers remain loyal to Celene, though they believe her to be dead. They view Gespard in a dim light, and were they to get any hope that Celene was alive, they would very rapidly spring into action to undermine Gespard's efforts to stop her.
Player’s Pen Name: Well, my real name's Mike, but just call me David.
Contact: Pm's the best.
Roleplay Experience: been roleplaying about a year or two, but didn't get really involved in forum roleplaying such as this until about 6 months ago.
Language(s): English, Spanish
How did you find us?: stumbled upon you all by accident really.
Roleplay Sample:
Roleplay Sample:
(All right, I'm gonna take this from another rp I'm a part of, so it will have absolutely nothing to do with dragon age
)
Password: Gray Warden
"Well, at least they had the courtesy of missing..."
GENERAL
Full Name: David Bouvier de Jader
Race: Human
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Birthplace: Jader, Orlais
Residence: Wherever the army needs him.
Affiliation: Orlesian Loyalist (loyal to Empress Celene.)
Occupation: Knight-Lieutenant
Religion: Andrastian
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. This is what makes your character special, and each attribute has its advantages.)
Strength:2
Dexterity:1
Willpower:2
Magic:
Cunning:1
Gear: Standard infantry steel blade, Standard metal kite shield, and Orlesian battle armor. (note, not the chevalier armor, as he is not a chevalier. Think instead "armor of the fallen" style.)
His unit He has a command of a platoon of 40 men. He had 15 men at arms (sword and shield), 10 halberd-men (men armed with halberds, a pike-axe combenation), 5 berserkers (longswordmen), and 10 archers. While small, his band of men are fiercely loyal, as David watches out for them as if they were his own flesh and blood. While many officers David's age have at least 3 times as many men, David had the tendency to piss off all the wrong people, and since he is not of noble blood there is very little chance for David to promote beyond his station (unless, of course, there happened to be some event during the RP that promoted him)
CHARACTERISTICS
Appearance: Dark brown hair with light blue/grey eyes. Standing roughly 5'9, he has an athletic body type. On his shoulder, he has his heraldry (or what he'd like his heraldry to be) tattooed, which is a dark blue kite shield, a red x, and a black lion laying next to a white lamb.
Personality: Well educated for a "commoner," he is very intelligent and has a voracious appetite for books. At a young age, he was instilled with the virtues of loyalty, honor, personal courage, and a sense of duty by his father who had once been a chevalier. An 'uncle' to his men, he's compassionate and tends to show mercy to his enemies, naively believing sometimes that they would do the same for him. He also cares deeply about the welfare of his troops, but is a bit too attached to them, and questions orders given by superiors that he deems unnecessarily place his men in harms way. He is fairly stubborn, and tends to piss off alot of his superiors. He has developed a bit of a sarcastic sense of humor, as his natural defense against the "stupidity" of the chevaliers culture and their attitude of invulnerability, one which he has quite often seen go terribly, terribly wrong.
APPLICATION
Journal entry marked 9:34 Dragon
Finally, I get to wear the officer's sash on my uniform. It looks... Weird. I had never expected the opportunity to wear one of these things. I guess father was right when he said the armee was where I needed to be to move up in this world. Perhaps a man can change his stars?
Still, the fact that I am wearing this thing is more out of dumb luck than skill. Well... I wouldn't call it luck. Damned chevalier should have known we were walking straight into an ambush. For Andraste's sake, how does one march us straight into the middle of the Dales without even posting archers to the front as reconnaissance!?! Damned fool... It's a miracle we made it out of that forest alive.
Still, the men are grateful for the fact that I'm now in charge of them. Better one of "their own" instead of another windbag from Val Royeux trying to explain why he's smarter than we are. These are good men, and soldiers like them deserve better than that. They deserve someone like me, who would actually give a damn about them when the time came to it.
But... Perhaps I need to tone this down a bit. Maker forbid this journal be found by some half-wit chevalier who actually knows how to read... Can't let them see my ambition... This system has a way of crushing men like me. Better lay low for a while...
HISTORY
(This would be your character's story. How was he/she raised? How did he/she get to where he/she is?)
Born 9:15 Dragon, he is the son of an Orlesian Chevalier, Richard Bouvier de Lydes, and a traveling Ferelden tutor, Amelia Chaucer. Due to his marriage to a Ferelden, Richard was forced to renounce his rank and title, and moved with his pregnant wife to the city of Jader, near the Ferelden border, where he became a merchant, and Amelia would tutor the children of the city's nobility.
His younger days were relatively happy. His father was well-to-do, as he used his old connections to make a decent amount of money trading with the dwarves of Orzammar and the newly-liberated Ferelden. His mother would often bring him along with her when she went to a noble's house, and it wasn't uncommon to see him learning the same material as the noble children did. The hostility he felt from the noble children, however, was constant, as he typically picked up on the lessons much faster than they did. This developed not so much a hatred but a distrust of the nobility, and made him question the system of noble entitlement, a system which he had to bow and give deference to men and women who often, in his mind, did not know what they were talking about. This would cause trouble in his teen years, and would be a point of friction with his father, who at one point had been part of the system. His constant lack of deferential behavior towards the noble teens his age whenever his mother went to their homes to tutor them nearly cost his mother his job, and his father nearly lost half his business when he called the daughter of the Comte de Jader a "spoiled little pouffiase(whore-slut-bitch)" after she knocked him over with her horse at the market. However, some of his father's lessons on loyalty and duty did take, for at the age of 18 he joined the infantry.
With his natural ability and courage, and some of his father's influence, he was able to rise through the ranks quickly, becoming a sergeant within the first year. It is then when he proved himself, when his unit accidentally caused an incident with a dalish clan. The noble commander in charge of the unit had been killed rather quickly by an arrow to the throat, and David quickly took the reins of the unit and repelled the Dalish attack. Impressed by his heroism, the Captain field-promoted David to lieutenant, though David has not advanced from that rank since that time, as his old attitude toward the nobility tended to surface itself in all the wrong places.
When the mage-templar war began, David did not think about his choice. He is an Orlesian soldier, who swore an oath of fidelity to the empress. Despite his misgivings about the aristocracy he makes it a point to not go back on his word, and as a result now stands ready to fight for his country.
While technically a part of Gespard's army, he and a cabal of officers remain loyal to Celene, though they believe her to be dead. They view Gespard in a dim light, and were they to get any hope that Celene was alive, they would very rapidly spring into action to undermine Gespard's efforts to stop her.
BEHIND THE MASK
Player’s Pen Name: Well, my real name's Mike, but just call me David.
Contact: Pm's the best.
Roleplay Experience: been roleplaying about a year or two, but didn't get really involved in forum roleplaying such as this until about 6 months ago.
Language(s): English, Spanish
How did you find us?: stumbled upon you all by accident really.
Roleplay Sample:
Roleplay Sample:
(All right, I'm gonna take this from another rp I'm a part of, so it will have absolutely nothing to do with dragon age
)[6 hours later, 4:00 am, March 13th]
Lt. Hasty hoped Captain Richards knew what the hell he was doing. Hasty sat hidden on the bluffs approaching Westcliffe opposite of the port by the bridge with 20 men, all hidden and with their rifles trained on the bridge in front of them. Hasty stared at his pocket watch. 3:59 am. In one minute, he was to fire the flare to distract their guards. 50 seconds. He looked over to the men on his left and right. They all nodded and gave their commander the thumbs up. They all knew the stakes. They all knew they were outnumbered. But this was their home turf. These woods had been the place that many of them as young boys had played in. They'd be damned before it remained in the hands of these bandits. 20 seconds. Time was almost here. He readied the flare gun and pointed it towards the sky. 10 seconds. The men all cocked their rifles. Some of the men were fortunate, and had steel turret rifles. Those would be needed very soon, as only Avo knew how many bandits might charge this way. 3... 2... 1...
The red flare flew up into the early morning sky, lighting it like a comet up into the air. Captain Richards grinned, and looked back at his 19 men, including his first sergeant. They nodded to each other, and climbed up to the top of the hill near what had been the small dweller camp that had developed in front of the old gates of Westcliffe. They had marched all night, down through the bottom of the cliffs and back up again, but they made it just in the nick of time. Looking at the campfires from behind the tree, his grin widened as the majority of the bandits turned away from the woods he and his party were hiding in and looked at the bright shiny object flying in the sky. At his signal, he and his men all lit their handheld grenades and chucked them into the camp. They exploded in a horrendous racket, fragmentation spraying all over the camp ripping up tents, boxes, and bandits alike. Captain Richards than drew his sword and his clockwork pistol, turned and shouted to his men.
"Follow me lads! Once more!"
"Strength and Honour!" The men replied loudly, as they moved forward into the camp, howling like madmen and and running towards the confused bandits, moving up in bounds in teams of four, each group discharging their weapons before the next advanced. Before long, the rangers and the bandits were engaging in hand to hand combat.
"Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!"
Lt. Hasty hoped Captain Richards knew what the hell he was doing. Hasty sat hidden on the bluffs approaching Westcliffe opposite of the port by the bridge with 20 men, all hidden and with their rifles trained on the bridge in front of them. Hasty stared at his pocket watch. 3:59 am. In one minute, he was to fire the flare to distract their guards. 50 seconds. He looked over to the men on his left and right. They all nodded and gave their commander the thumbs up. They all knew the stakes. They all knew they were outnumbered. But this was their home turf. These woods had been the place that many of them as young boys had played in. They'd be damned before it remained in the hands of these bandits. 20 seconds. Time was almost here. He readied the flare gun and pointed it towards the sky. 10 seconds. The men all cocked their rifles. Some of the men were fortunate, and had steel turret rifles. Those would be needed very soon, as only Avo knew how many bandits might charge this way. 3... 2... 1...
The red flare flew up into the early morning sky, lighting it like a comet up into the air. Captain Richards grinned, and looked back at his 19 men, including his first sergeant. They nodded to each other, and climbed up to the top of the hill near what had been the small dweller camp that had developed in front of the old gates of Westcliffe. They had marched all night, down through the bottom of the cliffs and back up again, but they made it just in the nick of time. Looking at the campfires from behind the tree, his grin widened as the majority of the bandits turned away from the woods he and his party were hiding in and looked at the bright shiny object flying in the sky. At his signal, he and his men all lit their handheld grenades and chucked them into the camp. They exploded in a horrendous racket, fragmentation spraying all over the camp ripping up tents, boxes, and bandits alike. Captain Richards than drew his sword and his clockwork pistol, turned and shouted to his men.
"Follow me lads! Once more!"
"Strength and Honour!" The men replied loudly, as they moved forward into the camp, howling like madmen and and running towards the confused bandits, moving up in bounds in teams of four, each group discharging their weapons before the next advanced. Before long, the rangers and the bandits were engaging in hand to hand combat.
"Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!"
Password: Gray Warden
