Post by Adric Hyde on Aug 22, 2012 16:04:27 GMT -5
GENERAL
Full Name: Adric Hyde
Race: Human
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Birthplace: Kirkwall within the Free Marches
Residence: Currently stationed within Kirkwall.
Affiliation: The Templars
Occupation: Knight-Lieutenant within the Templar Order in Kirkwall.
Religion: He is what is referred to as an ‘Andrastian’. He believes in the Maker strongly. However the whole ‘the Maker has left us to test his fate,’ is not something he agrees with. The Maker is always watching. Why would he leave?
COMBAT
Class: Warrior
Character Stats:
Strength: 4
Dexterity: -
Willpower: 2
Magic: -
Cunning: -
Gear: As a Templar, Adric was issued a full armor uniform. Never being a fan of helmets, he never wears his unless he is forced to by the circumstances. This has led him to several black eyes, in his time. Around his neck, he wears a charm that his mother made his father years and years ago. The guard that had saved him from the murderer of his parents, gave him said charm a few days after the incident. It’s a small metal-cast dragon that lies flat against his chest. Its jaws are wide open - shooting a small bit of metal flame. As for weapons, Adric carries a one-handed sword and shield - which bears the Templar symbol. He always takes careful care of his blade - meaning it is always quite sharp and strong.
Back in his room, he has more books than he’d like to admit - all varying from fictional tales of heroes and dragons, to historical documents about things like the Grey Wardens. He also has several books about Andraste and how the religion began from a factual standpoint. Under his bed, a lute always lies. Adric still plays his father’s lute on occasion - wishing to keep his skills sharp. He’s aware that he is far from any bard - but he still enjoys how the instrument feels against his fingers, and how the sound echoes around his small room.
CHARACTERISTICS
Appearance: Adric stands at about an average height for a man his age. Thanks to his training as a Templar, his frame carries a decent amount of muscle - especially on his arms, stomach, and back. His eyes shine with a piercing blue - which starts darker around the outer ring, and gradually gets lighter as it going towards his pupils. Adric’s hair is a bright fiery color - leaning a bit closer to red than the classical ‘orange’ hue of someone generally with that color of hair. The longer his hair gets, the more wavy it becomes. Typically after a bath, it tends to stay close to his head in somewhat tight ringlets - which slowly fall out between baths. Though his facial hair tends to change depending on his mood, he currently has a goatee that he keeps close around his lips and chin.
His skin is naturally quite pale, but once he became a Templar and spent longer hours outside, it began to slowly darken into a deeper yellow-tan color. However, he tends to get strange tan-lines thanks to the heavy Templar armor he’s forced to wear most of the time.
Adric has an extremely expressive face. Simply staring into his eyes, one can mostly tell what he’s thinking. Because of this, he’s been forced to learn how to be ‘stone faced’ when doing something he disagrees with, but doesn’t have a choice. A few of his fellow Templars have caught when he goes ‘stone faced’ - meaning it really is futile to hide how he feels about certain aspects of the job.
Personality: In this time of war, Adric is a bit of a pessimist. He’s never been a fan of violence throughout his entire life - but his duty to the Templar order, makes him ignore this primal urge to not harm any others. Because of this, he is actually quite a good swordsman. He sees that his finesse with the blade as an art or even dance, rather than his ability to kill or harm another. His duty to the Maker puts him at a strange spot within this war. He never has once hated a mage. He understands that blood magic is a risk - but that’s the Templar’s job - to keep an eye on them. In Adric’s eyes - that means watch them like a parent, rather than guard. They’re just people too - but could turn onto an abomination and/or demon of some sort, and kill everyone. Because of this, he doesn’t disagree with the Templar order from that stance. Mages are dangerous - they just shouldn’t be treated as such, or they’ll be more tempted to contact the Dark Ones in the Fade, and effectively ruin their lives for the sake of power. This means that even though Adric isn’t a mage-hater, his distaste for violence evaporates slightly, when he witnesses a mage do blood magic. Doing such a deed is using those who are opposite to the Maker - making themselves a rival to the Creator of All. And how is that a good idea? Let’s deal with untrustworthy creatures that live beyond this world just for a bit more power! No.
Beyond that, Adric is generally a somewhat quiet and contemplative person. He’s never been a fan of big groups or parties - preferring to sit and read a book, or quietly play his father’s lute. Like any other, however, he does occasionally enjoy the company of others - he just easily ‘wears out’ on the idea of people around him. People always tend to try too hard, in Adric’s opinion. Every word they say, expression they make, and even cloth they choose to wear - is based on other people’s perception of the individual. He has always wondered why people don’t just relax and be themselves.
When relaxed, Adric tends to be what many refer to as a ‘smart ass’. Since he spent a good portion of his childhood with his nose in a book, he finds himself quite well educated for some orphan boy who grew up in the Chantry. Knowing people find this habit of his quite off-putting, Adric has learned to hide it behind his quick wit and dry humor. It becomes especially pronounced when he had been drinking - especially if a bad mood sparks said drinking.
Around women, Adric is...awkward. Unlike many of his fellow Templars, he doesn’t make a weekly - or sometimes even daily visit to the Blooming Rose. A life in the Chantry taught him that women weren’t just sex tools - and didn’t plan use them as such. Thanks to his slightly older age for one being ‘pure’ he has found himself a bit...frustrated. This has left him tempted many times over - but has resisted for morale reasons. He has had several women kiss him within his twenty-six years of life however. This stems from attending the Hanged Man on occasion - where sometimes a slightly intoxicated woman wants to celebrate something and finds Adric first. It would be surprising how many times that has happened to him. However, to avoid ridicule from his fellow Templars, he guards his secret of purity quite well.
HISTORY
ABRIDGED:
Adric was born into a modest sized home within Lowtown to a father who was a non-magical healer, and a mother who made clothing and hats for a living. He lived peacefully for twelve years, watching his father treat the locals who required help sooner rather than later. However, one night a knock came at the door. As Adric stood in the living room, he listened as the two men argued about the stranger's father. Apparently - despite Adric's father's efforts, the man had died.
His mother became involved in the argument only moments later - causing a strange fear to slip around Adric's mind. As he walked around the corner to the front door, he watched his father fall to the ground from the now wet blade of the distraught man. A Guardsman began moving towards the door, as the man attacked his mother - but he was too late.
Adric ended up in the Chantry as an orphan - feeling uncomfortable, since his parents raised him Atheist. One of the Sisters ended up taking Adric under her wing - eventually giving him a collection of stories that changed the child's view on the Maker. It suddenly made everything...make sense.
Over time he was forced to decide on what he wished to be when he was of age. While he was pushed to dedicate himself to the Maker - Adric felt he could apply himself to something that made a bigger difference.
The idea of being a Templar was quickly brought up with the young man. Thanks to his exposure to the Circle as a child (through his father trading healing remedies and herbs) he didn't hate mages. He just felt that they needed a watchful eye, because they lived risky lives. If they weren't careful, they could easily turn into an abomination. Well - at least that's how he understood it.
Adric soon began his Templar training.
Like all recuits, he was eventually thrown into a Harrowing. Feeling a bit nervous, he stayed close to the Templar who was accompanying him.
However, as the other Templar and First Enchanter exchanged a few words, Adric attempted to talk to the mage. All he wanted was to wish the girl good-luck - since he was aware that the Harrowing was an extremely difficult thing to go through.
The young mage told him off.
The Harrowing itself seemed to go fairly smoothly, until the very end. The girl fell to the ground - the First Enchanter ordering the Templars ready - but to hold. Not yet.
After a few minutes the woman stood...as a woman. No exploding tentacles or demon voices. Adric lowered his blade as the woman approached the First Enchanter - saying it was done. The First Enchanter demanded the Templars to draw their blades, causing the mage to frown.
Then the demon voices began.
The girl fell to the ground shouting in a voice that was not her own. Her flesh ripped. Clothes shredded. Adric felt sick as the once mage screamed out in both pain and anger. He and the other Templar struck her down in seconds - a bit of blood sliding into Adric's helmet from the violent action of taking down an abomination.
The other Templar took off Adric's helmet as soon as they were outside - Adric heaving into the bushes only moments later. Apparently being sick after seeing and killing your first abomination was normal - at least according to the Templar who was standing over him.
After that moment, Adric had a appreciation for how much of a threat mages were. One false move. One bad dream.
And they were gone.
Over time, Adric used this realization to fuel any strange orders he was given as a Templar. While he understood their power at a better level - he still didn't hate mages. He simply felt that they - for the safety of all - needed to be watched.
However, when the Chantry exploded and it all fell to chaos - Adric wasn't sure what to think. Called to the Knight-Commander's side, he watched as innocent mages who he actually knew personally - get cut down. But then they summoned creatures that were beyond his wildest nightmares. Cut their wrists and raised the dead. No one but the Maker should have that sort of power...
Then the Grand Enchanter himself turned into a abomination.
Shortly after, Meredith herself changed.
All was lost.
They battle however, did come to an end by the Champion of Kirkwall killing the Knight Commander.
Now a war is upon them.
THE REALLY LONG UNABRIDGED VERSION THAT IS TOO LONG FOR NORMAL PEOPLE ;D
Twenty six years ago, a scream came from a home within Lowtown. Inside a brunette woman smiled at a fiery headed baby, as he declared his unhappiness about being in this new bright and noisy place. The woman - Isadora - laughed as the baby was placed into her arms, from the hands of her husband - Walter. With matching bright red hair, the man watched his wife hold his son.
Adric grew up in a modest household. His father worked as a doctor of the non-magical sort. He used herbs mainly to help heal people that were either afraid of magic, or did not have time to track down a local Circle Mage to heal them. Walter himself was no enemy of the mages. He actually often went to the Circle for recipes and for swapping non-medical knowledge between himself and the healers within.
Meanwhile Isadora was a tailor that sold most of her stuff in Lowtown - especially to a hat shop. This allowed her to keep working from home, right after Adric was born.
He was a calm child. Never cried without needing to be changed or fed. It made life easy on the young couple, as they adjusted their lives around their only son. From an early age they taught him to not believe in the Maker. That he was a fictional man to give people hope. That his ideal was good - but people tend to use it as an excuse to do bad things ‘in the name of the Maker.’
Every night, the Hyde family would sit around the fire within their modest home. Walter liked to play the lute and badly sing various songs that he either made up or that he had heard in the past. The man could sing decently if he wanted to - for his father was a bard - but often chose not to.
As a child, Adric often enjoyed accompanying his father to help various people around Lowtown with their healing needs. After a short time, Walter ‘officially’ made Adric his apprentice.
At age twelve, however, the peace within Adric’s life did not last. While his father tried his hardest with his herbs and remedies to help the ill within Lowtown - sometimes it wasn’t enough.
Walter sat with one leg crossed over the other. A lute poised in his hands. His eyes danced across the fire as he sang. For once he didn’t purposefully sing out of tune. His deep voice danced around the notes, as Isadora rocked silently in her chair. Within her hands was a large piece of fabric and a needle. On the floor, Adric sat. He was reading a book that wove a rather intricate tale about dragons.
A knock came from the door, causing Walter to fumble over the chord he was playing on the lute. A sudden nervous expression slid its way across the man’s face, as he wandered towards the door. Isadora lowered her needle from the cloth - eyes locked on her husband.
Adric had never seen his parents act like this before. The child lowered his book and stood - starting to follow his father to the door. His mother grabbed his shoulder and silently shook her head, as Walter’s voice quietly greeted the man who was disturbing their home at this late hour.
The shrill sound of a blade being pulled from a scabbard caused both Isadora and Adric’s heads to snap in the direction of the door. Adric’s mother stood, pulling a dagger out of the back of her dress. The fiery haired child backpedaled at his mother wielding a...dagger?
She disappeared behind the wall that obscured the door’s view from the living room.
Adric stood - light eyes glued to the wall. He wanted to go see what was happening. He wanted to know why Mother had a dagger that was needed in this moment. But he couldn’t move. Adric listened as their voices grew louder and more aggressive. But he couldn’t move. He could hear the stranger's voice threatening Father. Something about the stranger’s father dying.
Mother’s voice drifted above the others - saying to keep their voices down.
This caused the stranger to get...angry. His voice venomous. Everyone’s voices got loud at once. Young Adric began moving towards the door. As he rounded the corner, a very strange sound touched his ears. One that he had never heard before. As his eyes focused on the three forms in the door - his father fell to the ground - a bloody dagger tightly held in the hand of the stranger.
A sick feeling struck Adric as he whispered, “Father...”
Isadora quickly glanced back at Adric and yelled, “Get out of here!” as the stranger went for her.
Isadora drew her own blade as tears washed down her face. Behind the two forms in the doorway - a City Guardsmen began running towards them. He yelled, “Stop!”
This slight distraction to Isadora caused her blade to miss deflecting the stranger’s by the smallest of measurements. As the Guardsmen reached the door, the blade plunged into Adric’s mother’s chest as he watched. The Guard instantly restrained the man by knocking his face into the doorframe. As the man swore under his breath, his eyes locked onto Adric
“Oh...Maker there’s a kid. Are you alright?”
“I...they’re dead.”
“I’m so sorry, child. I should have been swifter.”
“I...they’re dead.”
“I need to take this man in. Gather your things and I shall return. Will you be alright?”
“They’re dead.”
The man sighed, “I’ll be back soon. I promise. Gather your things - you won’t be coming back here.”
Adric sat in the living room, waiting for the Guardsman to return. A single bag sat before him, filled with what was left of his life. A few books, his clothes, a stuffed animal of a nug that his mother made for him. Beside the bag sat his father’s lute.
The Guardsmen took him to the Chantry - where the child felt out of place. He had been raised Atheist - making the experience feel wrong. A young Sister came to the front of the Chantry to greet the Guardsmen. Upon spotting the child, she crouched down to meet his eye-level - for Adric was quite small for his age. The woman smiled at him, and released the Guard.
“Why am I here?” Adric asked, as the Sister motioned for the child to follow her.
“Because we care for children when no one else can.”
“But I don’t believe in the Maker.”
The woman glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Adric. Even though he felt sick to his stomach and wanted to cry - her smile somehow...relaxed him slightly. It was so full of knowledge and hope.
The Sister asked the child if he had any family in the area - which he did not. Nor was he aware of any other family...anywhere. His parents never spoke of any relatives throughout his childhood.
After the Sister got him comfortable in his room, she sat at the end of his bed.
“So you don’t believe in the Maker?”
“No.”
“Why is that, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Parents didn’t. And explained how it was just something to give people hope. That’s all.”
“I see. But what do you believe?”
“Same as my parents. Why would I believe in something that let them die, anyway?”
“Let me explain to you how I see the Maker. You can choose to think I’m a blighted fool for thinking this way...but I was like you once. I didn’t believe in the Maker. I’ve done things that are supposed to make the Maker strike me down,” she laughed and shook her head, “But how I see it, is that everyone has a destiny, yes?”
“So my parents’ destiny was to die?”
“No...well yes. But their destiny was to get you here. If it wasn’t for the unfortunate actions of that horrible man, you wouldn’t be sitting in that bed, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“But my parents are dead. I’d rather be home.”
“It’s a sharp turn in your life - yes. And I will help you mourn in any way you wish. Just remember that you are on a new path that the Maker has made for you. I’m sorry it began with tragedy - but this is a new tiere in your life. Remember that. As unfortunate as this is, I’m curious to see where it leads you...”
At first, Adric kept to himself within the Chantry. The Sister would have visit him and bring him treats from the kitchen - and even tried to get him to play her a song on the lute. He, however, resisted.
Upon asking the Sister for some books to read, he was handed several religious texts, as well as some short stories. When questioned about it, the Sister responded with, “I know you don’t believe in the Maker - but at least you can enjoy the stories that surround him. I’m not asking you to take them seriously - but they are quite interesting.”
After Adric finished reading the other stories, he stared at the covers of the religious novels. While he didn’t believe in the Maker - he was still curious. What made people throw blind faith into believing in the Maker? So the child began reading. At first he took it all with the thoughts of an Atheist. “Oh this is just a story.” But then something clicked. Perhaps it was the fact he was reading at such a later hour. Maybe it was something he ate. But it suddenly all made sense. Not just why people followed the religion - but how it worked into life. The Maker was the man who pushed the pieces around. He pushed people to be great and the world to be dynamic.
Adric fell asleep while reading the stories - only to awaken to the Sister touching his shoulder. He admitted his changed feelings after reading the various novels. The Sister smiled down at the boy, before asking him if he knew how to play the lute. Adric’s father had been the one to play - not the child. He hadn’t even touched it, before the day his parents died. The Sister lifted the lute and began instructing Adric on how to play it. Explained how pressure on certain areas of the lute would change the tone - and how that could be combined to make a chord.
From that point on, Adric was a progressively more and more active member within the Chantry. Over the years, he began attending sermons, playing with the other children, and building his faith in the Maker. He did, however, get bothered on how many people actually did just throw blind faith at the Maker, because someone told them so. They didn’t understand who he was, how Andraste changed history, or even what the Chant of Light meant.
As he grew up, questions about what he wanted to do with his life, arose. Some attempted to make him swear himself to the Chantry - a chaste life that revolved around his love of the Maker.
As much as he had faith in the Maker - he honestly didn’t want a life that revolved around it. In his opinion, the lifestyle was pointless. It would make more sense for people to volunteer to be active within the Chantry - rather than having people throw their lives into the Maker’s hands for the rest of their lives. He didn’t tell them that, of course. He simply stated that he wished to do something else with his life.
The very same Sister who had first welcomed him into the Chantry and changed his views on the Maker, suggested that he became a Templar. That way he could still work under the Maker, without throwing his life away into it.
Adric sat on the thought for a long while. His only real experience with Templars came from stories his father told him. They would escort him into the Circle whenever he wished to trade healing knowledge with the mages in the Gallows. While the power that was given to them could easily be abused - their purpose made sense. Mages were dangerous. They had so much power and a strong link to the fade. That link made it possible for demons to attempt to possess them. The Templars were there to protect them from the demons, each other, and the outside world. It was a safety net if things were to go wrong. If done right, it assured everyone’s safety and didn’t need to oppress anyone.
When Adric came of age, he joined the Templar order. He wasn’t the best recruit - but he had a bit more drive than the rest, who simply wanted the coin from the job. The tricks they learned were fascinating. They could effectively stop magic without having magic in their veins at all. It was an equalizer between those who had the gift that made them stronger than the average man.
Then came his first Harrowing. As the First Enchanter spoke with the other Templar that was there to assist Adric, he approached the young mage.
“Good morning,” he smiled, as the young woman nervously played with her staff.
“What do you want, Ser?”
“Just wanted to wish you luck on your Harrowing.”
“Really? I thought Templars enjoyed cutting us down.”
Adric blinked, caught off guard, “I’m...just here as a safeguard.”
“Is that what you tell yourself at night?”
The mage locked eyes with Adric, as the First Enchanter and other Templar approached - announcing that the Harrowing was about to begin.
The mage entered the Fade, leaving a strange feeling within Adric’s gut. Why did she assume he was just a blood-thirsty pig? He honestly wanted her to do well. It was a very involved challenge - from what he had heard.
“How often do they fail?” Adric asked the other Templar, as they both watched the mage.
The First Enchanter spoke, “It happens,” he responded in a dark voice, “Some are just not strong enough. It’s why we have the Harrowing. It removes those who would easily fall victim to the demons before allowing them to be a full Circle Mage.”
Adric glanced over at the tall elf, feeling intimidated by his words. There was no place in the world for weak mages, apparently. If you weren’t strong - you died. With the average citizen - the weak were protected by the strong. Not killed by them...well most of the time anyway.
However, the average citizen couldn’t exactly just have a bad dream and wake up as a demon either. Or decide to dabble in the dark arts and summon demons.
Adric said nothing in response to the First Enchanter, as the woman continued her Harrowing. A strained look crossed the woman’s face - causing the other Templar to draw his sword.
“Not yet,” the First Enchanter cautioned, “She is still herself.”
The woman suddenly fell to the ground, causing the other Templar to draw his sword fully - yelling for Adric to do the same. He quickly did, heart pounding in his chest. The woman remained on the ground - still.
“Is she...?”
“Hold,” the First Enchanter order, as Adric stared down at the young woman. She couldn’t be much younger than him. If she had made one mistake, she would turn into an abomination and be killed.
The girl’s eyes snapped open - widening at the sight of the Templars with drawn blades.
“I’m fine,” she glared, as Adric offered her a hand up. She refused and approached the First Enchanter.
“I have passed.”
The elf moved his hands slightly, before he shook his head.
“Kill her.”
“What?!” the girl’s eyes widened, “I’m not--”
“I can sense the demon inside you. Kill her.”
The Templar quickly moved the girl away from the First Enchanter - Adric on his heels.
“Stop! I’m....AA!” the girl screamed and fell to her knees, before her flesh ripped and distorted, turning her into something that Adric had only seen in his worst nightmares.
“Strike her down Hyde!” the other Templar ordered, as Adric took a deep breath.
His first real action as a Templar.
The blood hit his face as he stabbed into the abomination - making him feel ill. It was warm. It was red. The Abomination fell to the ground without too much fight. The First Enchanter mumbled about ‘yet another failure’ before he exited the room.
The other Templar approached Adric, grabbing the boy by the shoulder, “Let’s get you out of here. If you’re anything like I was, you’re not feeling so good.”
Adric remained silent - eyes still wide at what he had done.
“No shame in it. No one admits to to it but everyone does it,” he pulled off Adric’s helmet as they exited the building.
“Does...what?” he stammered out, heart still pounding in his chest.
“I see you struggling. Better out than in. No one’s watchin’.”
Adric frowned, feeling his guts twirl unpleasantly.
“Take a few deep breaths,” the other Templar instructed, as Adric bent over - bracing himself on his knees. The other Templar gently placed a hand on Adric back, as he began to hyperventilate.
“Slow your breathing. Just deep and slow. Ha...ah that’s a dirty joke for ya too,” the man smiled, as Adric shivered.
His gut began to heave, causing the hand on his back to pat slightly.
“It’s not easy.”
With one final breath, Adric found his breakfast and lunch spread throughout the bush he was standing next to.
“There we go.”
“I’m...” Adric coughed slightly, “...sorry.”
“For what? You just watched someone get turned into an abomination and killed them. It’s rough. Really rough. Maker, I’ve never even seen a recruit go through the bad sort of Harrowings and hold their stomach. It just doesn’t happen. You don’t see things like that outside of this job, really. Now go sit down and take a load off. Maybe eat something and get a drink - after you rest of course. You did good in there. No hesitation. You’ll make a fine Templar,” the man smiled at him, before he walked off - leaving Adric crouching over his own sick.
As the years pressed on, Adric found himself getting more comfortable within the order. It was hard at first - but he just kept reminding himself that the Maker gave these people more power than any other - and that power could easily go astray. When a woman named Hawke, became involved in Kirkwall’s events, however, things began to shift uncomfortably away from what he was used to. The Templars kept making mages Tranquil for little to no reason. Knight Commander Meredith’s orders became increasingly skewed. Suddenly mages were the enemy instead of being the charges of the Chantry. Adric’s life was dedicated to both the Templars and the Chantry. If he pushed away from them, he would be killed - judging by how the Knight Commander was dealing with the current issues.
Then the once the Qunari attacked, things just got...weird, for the Templar.
Everyone was constantly at war with one another. People were screaming to rule Kirkwall since the viscount was now dead. People in the streets would gather to try to choose who would rule. It was chaos. During this time, Adric began drinking a bit harder. His lyrium intake increased slightly as well. The mages were restless. The people were unhappy.
It was all going to break.
Then it did.
While off duty, Adric was walking through Kirkwall. He heard voices yelling in front of the Chantry just down the street. As he slowly approached the Chantry area, the ground shook. The Templar froze in his tracks, as he watched the Chantry glow red, before exploding outward in a way that he could have never fathomed.
“Maker...no...” he whispered, as shouts erupted around him. Pulling his sword, he heard Meredith call for her Templars.
All mages.
They were all the enemy now. Declared blood mages - even though Adric personally knew several who would never touch the horrid art.
But what choice did he have?
Adric raised his sword while fighting at his Knight Commander’s side. He watched mages fall as he stopped their magic from harming any others. So many turned to blood magic without a single hesitation. When was that ever a good idea? The reason that Meredith was killing everyone was because of blood magic. Why demonstrate and reinforce the idea even harder?
Covered in the blood of many - some of which he even called ‘friend’ - he watched as the Champion decided to take on the Knight Commander herself.
Adric’s head throbbed, body ached, and he felt sick. He honestly just wanted it to be over. Meredith was insane - but so were the mages in this once slave-driven town that the Maker to have seemed to forget on this very day. The Chantry was gone. The Circle was broken.
What was left?
Then...things got even worse. The First Enchanter turned to blood magic - then the Knight Commander herself was apparently possessed by some...idol of some sort.
Now, it has been a few years since the ordeal. A war has began between mages and templars. Adric finds himself dedicated to his duty - but honestly not on either side of the war. Mages needed watching - but weren’t all about to turn to blood magic. Now Adric simply prays to the Maker in hopes that this madness will soon end.
BEHIND THE MASK
Player’s Pen Name: Hayles
Contact: PM is best. But if you want faster chat, I do have an MSN that I’m sometimes on: glowininja@gmail.com
Roleplay Experience: 7 years o.o
Language(s): How did you find us?: Proboards Support
Roleplay Sample:
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See Anders..
Password: Grey Warden
