Post by athis on Apr 6, 2012 0:15:40 GMT -5
GENERAL
Race: Human.
Age: 22.
Gender: Female.
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual.
Birthplace: Par Vollen.
Residence: Wherever Mariana wants to go!
Affiliation: Qunari.
Occupation: As Mariana's cook, she uh, cooks.
Religion: Anaan esaam Qun.
COMBAT
Class: Citizen.
Character Stats:
Strength:
Dexterity: 2.
Willpower: 2.
Magic:
Cunning: 2.
Gear: A couple cotton dresses, simple shoes and undergarments.
CHARACTERISTICS
Appearance: Avis is a very slight individual, short even by human standards and positively dwarfed by the Kossith with whom she spent the majority of her time with. Small and pale, she’s the sort of girl that fades into the background, commanding less respect than the grass underneath one’s feet, and quite honestly that’s how she prefers it. It’s hard for someone to kick you around if they haven’t even noticed that you’re there. Her body lacks any sort of muscle tone whatsoever, she consumes as much food as she needs to survive and no more and because of this she is decidedly frail looking and devoid of feminine curves; in some circumstances it might be possible for her to pass as an effeminate young boy…
Appearance wise she’s not so unfortunate looking, her blonde hair and hazel eyes suit her features nicely, but she’d be so much prettier if she just smiled once in awhile! Her pink lips are almost always curved in a frown, even when there is nothing to be sad about! There are the occasions when one might find her chewing on her bottom lip, or sticking her tongue out in moments of intense concentration, but it is quite rare for a smile to grace her youthful features. With far too much work to do to bother with being vain, she will never been seen wearing a stick of makeup or jewelry (lending to the fact that she looks a bit like a young boy), and even her hair has been sacrificed! Where once she had long lovely hair, it is now cropped short to her scalp; a punishment for speaking out of turn, and thankfully a lenient one.
Even before she’d begun working on a ship she was battered and bruised, the job of a simple laborer does not lend itself to smooth hands and manicured fingernails; cuts, scrapes and even burns often dot her pale flesh. Scars acquired from various mishaps are scattered overall, none overly noticeable but altogether giving one the impression that she has not lead a pampered life. The way she carries herself is very telling of the life that she has lived. She will start at loud noises, flinch at sudden movements, and in a conversation she will talk to her feet more than she talks to you.
Her name was well earned.
Personality: A constant work in progress.
HISTORY
Athis was born twenty-two years ago in Par Vollen, her parents both simple laborers serving under the Qunari. Rumor has it that she was descended from the original inhabitants of the country, but she never paid it any mind; it was much more likely that her parents had been converted later in their lives. Either way, it didn’t matter, she was collected as soon as she was born to be reared by the Kossith. She grew up amongst them, schooled in their language and their ways by the Tamarassan, quickly learning her place and what was expected of her. At age 12 she was evaluated as all Qunari children are, and decided that she would best be suited as an Athlok. Life among the Kossith was simple, there was no conflict, no strife, everyone knew what they were meant to do, and they all worked towards the greater good. Sure, washing clothes and making stew wasn’t exactly the most glamorous of jobs, but it was her job and she was happy to do it.
Her early years were very uneventful, she did her duties as was her place, and she lived a very content life. She had no real friends and certainly no lovers, they would simply serve to confound her and she had no reason for either of them; she would take a mate when and if the Tamarassan decided she needed one. It would be an honor to assist the Qunari in such a way, but it would do no good to dream about such things, not when there was more work to be done! The life of an Athlok is not filled with tales of adventure of woe; she lived a perfectly mediocre life, she worked, slept, ate and drank… It was all quite boring really, but thankfully the monotony was not to last.
She was eighteen when she was called to serve with the Antaam, not as a soldier of course, but to fulfill her responsibilities as a woman. It was a great honor! She threw herself into her tasks and grew quite fond of the warriors that she was tasked with clothing and feeding. The Antaam split up and she was sent with a small Karataam, something that frightened her more than she’d like to admit; she’d never trusted Sarebaas, but she could at least trust the Arvaarad to keep the demons at bay. It was a simple task, they sent out to eliminate some Tal-Vashoth that had been spotted in the area, but the mission soon became anything but simple.
The Tal-Vashoth were far greater than had been anticipated and quickly cut down the Karataam, sparing not a single one of them, and Athis could do nothing but cower as one by one they were struck down. They found her easily as she hadn’t been trying to hide, snatching her up and surveying her blood-soaked body. She braced herself for her inevitable death but it did not come, instead they bound her and took her with them; Athis knew this was no act of mercy and feared for where they might be taking her. They walked for many days, offering her only enough food and water to keep her upright, before finally stumbling upon a small camp. A bas came out of one of the tents, speaking to the apparent leader of the Tal-Vashoth in a language that she could not understand, she had never been taught the language of the bas.
Money was exchanged and she soon found herself traveling with a group of strangely dressed humans. They shouted at her with words she couldn’t understand, shoving her and pulling her hair when she didn’t comply with whatever they were telling her to do. Athis so longed to rejoin her brothers and sisters back in Par Vollen… would she ever see her beautiful home again? What did these strange men want with her? She actually found herself thinking fondly of the Tal-Vashoth; at least she could have understood them! Immediately she forced such thoughts out of her mind; death would be better than joining the Tal-Vashoth.
They traveled for many months, stopping ever so often to rest and eat, and even acquiring a few new captives, a couple of elves and a small human boy; did she look as frightened as they did? It was unsettling, did they know something that she didn’t? If they did they lacked the means to tell her. She quickly became fond of the little boy and as they approached their unknown destination he reached for her hand, and she did not turn him away. So this was it then… unfortunately she was having a difficult time figuring out what was going on.
There was so much noise! So much commotion and shoving! She was quickly separated from her boy, and thrown into a group made up of entirely women, petrified, sobbing women. It seemed like one by one the women were placed on some sort of pedestal, then there was more shouting and then the woman was taken away. It hit her suddenly- they were being auctioned off like cattle! What sort of place was this?! It was her turn soon and she found herself staring out at a sea of unfamiliar faces, closing her eyes to center herself. Shok ebasit hissra. Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun. Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam Qun…
She sold quickly, her captors earning a fair sum for her, and taken home by her new master. He was bas Sarebaas, most of the people in this strange realm were, and for once she was truly scared; they had no Arvaarad to protect them, what if they succumbed to demons? As far as Tevinter Magisters go, her master was rather tame, he did not beat her mercilessly, nor did he force himself upon her; she was struck a few times when she did not do as she was told, her hair shaved when she spoke out of turn, but she could have had it a lot worse. He even gave her a name, Athis, because she so reminded him of a scared little bird.
The four years that passed were ones that she wished that she could forget, so unlike the happy times she’d spent with the Kossith. No, now her life consisted of harsh words and knives against her skin, whispered spells and the taunts of demons. In the interim she managed to acquire a passing ability to speak and understand the common tongue, though reading and writing were not permitted, she was grateful to her master for taking the time to instruct her. Still, the good could not outweigh the bad, and her master was a very bad man… She feared that one day his blood magic would take him too far and that he would end her life in his quest for power…
She would die here…
But then, a miracle! A bit dizzy from blood loss, Athis can’t remember everything, but she does remember her angel, Mariana, saving her, whisking her away from her master and his cruel experiments, taking her aboard a ship. She owed this woman her life, and having once more found her place in the world, Athis swore to serve Mariana in whatever way she wished; thankfully, due to her previous duties Athis was a pretty skilled cook, and so settled into pirate life easily, serving as the cook aboard the Bastard’s Kiss until Mariana has use for her no longer.
She still longs to return to Par Vollen, but will not until her promise to her angel has been fulfilled.
BEHIND THE MASK
Player’s Pen Name: Vic.
Contact: Email- akasheppy@hotmail.com AIM- hoshii ichimei.
Roleplay Experience: About 12 years. I've done a little bit of everything in that time.
Language(s): English.
How did you find us?: RPG-Directory.
Roleplay Sample:
Roleplay Sample:
The rain pounded a steady staccato on the roof that Charley currently sought refuge under, the repetitive noise soothing the young girl’s frazzled nerves. She hated this, she hated every part of this with every ounce of her skinny little body, but it was a necessary evil. It sucked, but she’d rather be stuffed inside this strange house than out in that weather; heavy rain lowered visibility, slowed your ability to make a swift escape and all in all made life considerably more difficult. She was certain that she’d manage out there alright, but there was no need to make her life any harder than it had to be; besides, there was no one to impress, better to camp out for the day and hope that it let up enough that she could move on to Greenville tomorrow.
The house had been an oasis in the desert really, and she couldn’t believe that she’d been fortunate enough to stumble upon it. The windows and doors had been boarded up in a last ditch effort to keep the Geeks out, but a few were loose enough that she’d manage to squeeze herself in with a limited amount of difficulty. The house had been carefully searched after that, every square inch scoured for signs of life, or unlife as it were. She’d found the previous occupants upstairs in the master bedroom; a family of four with four matching bullet holes in their heads. The kids cold bodies unnerved her more than anything and she respectfully covered them all up with a sheet pulled off the bed. Unwilling to spend any more time upstairs with the rotting bodies than was necessary, she scavenged what she could and dragged it all back downstairs to the living room.
Ground floor meant quick escape if one was needed; no stupidly running up the stairs for this blonde.
No water and no electricity did not disappoint (she‘d figured as much), but thankfully she was pretty certain that she didn’t smell too ripe yet, and with all the blankets she’d stripped off the bed she was confident that she’d be warm enough. As she assembled them all on the couch she was half-tempted to make a fort like she and her brother used to when they were little… was there a place for sofa forts in this new world? Would a child ever push three chairs together, throw a blanket over them and affix a crudely constructed “no girls allowed” sign to it ever again? The thought brought on an unwanted wave of melancholy and so she forced it out of her mind; it was pointless to dwell on sad things.
Instead she concerned herself with fortifying her shelter, ensuring that every door and window were impenetrable to any Walker, or at least would give her ample warning if a Walker were to try and break in. She didn’t foresee any problems in that department, as long as she stayed quiet and didn’t draw any attention to herself with bright lights or anything like that they’d never be any the wiser about her presence.
There were perks to traveling alone.
The crick in her neck reminded her immediately of the disadvantages though… three words: Sleeping. In. Trees. Impossible to get a good night’s sleep when simply turning over could send you plummeting to your death, though she doubted she’d be sleeping soundly tonight either…
Something about an abandoned house full of dead people wasn’t very settling…
Oh well! Making the best out of a bad situation, Charley huddled down into the pile of musty blankets, the comforters and couch cushions instantly doing wonders for her rain drenched body and making her sigh in contentment. It wasn’t long before her exhausted body slipped into a light sleep despite her best efforts to resist; she was far too tired and far too comfortable to put up much of a fight.
The house had been an oasis in the desert really, and she couldn’t believe that she’d been fortunate enough to stumble upon it. The windows and doors had been boarded up in a last ditch effort to keep the Geeks out, but a few were loose enough that she’d manage to squeeze herself in with a limited amount of difficulty. The house had been carefully searched after that, every square inch scoured for signs of life, or unlife as it were. She’d found the previous occupants upstairs in the master bedroom; a family of four with four matching bullet holes in their heads. The kids cold bodies unnerved her more than anything and she respectfully covered them all up with a sheet pulled off the bed. Unwilling to spend any more time upstairs with the rotting bodies than was necessary, she scavenged what she could and dragged it all back downstairs to the living room.
Ground floor meant quick escape if one was needed; no stupidly running up the stairs for this blonde.
No water and no electricity did not disappoint (she‘d figured as much), but thankfully she was pretty certain that she didn’t smell too ripe yet, and with all the blankets she’d stripped off the bed she was confident that she’d be warm enough. As she assembled them all on the couch she was half-tempted to make a fort like she and her brother used to when they were little… was there a place for sofa forts in this new world? Would a child ever push three chairs together, throw a blanket over them and affix a crudely constructed “no girls allowed” sign to it ever again? The thought brought on an unwanted wave of melancholy and so she forced it out of her mind; it was pointless to dwell on sad things.
Instead she concerned herself with fortifying her shelter, ensuring that every door and window were impenetrable to any Walker, or at least would give her ample warning if a Walker were to try and break in. She didn’t foresee any problems in that department, as long as she stayed quiet and didn’t draw any attention to herself with bright lights or anything like that they’d never be any the wiser about her presence.
There were perks to traveling alone.
The crick in her neck reminded her immediately of the disadvantages though… three words: Sleeping. In. Trees. Impossible to get a good night’s sleep when simply turning over could send you plummeting to your death, though she doubted she’d be sleeping soundly tonight either…
Something about an abandoned house full of dead people wasn’t very settling…
Oh well! Making the best out of a bad situation, Charley huddled down into the pile of musty blankets, the comforters and couch cushions instantly doing wonders for her rain drenched body and making her sigh in contentment. It wasn’t long before her exhausted body slipped into a light sleep despite her best efforts to resist; she was far too tired and far too comfortable to put up much of a fight.
Password: Grey Warden.
