app
H-holy shit, you guys. Even Zhu Irzh's app didn't do quite this good and I polished that sucker for six months. ♥ And I totally missed fixing a bloody smartquote, too.
Character: Fenris
Series: Dragon Age II
Character Age: Unknown, presumably late 20s, early 30s-ish.
Job: Hired Sword and Emergency Lighting System
Dragon Age II is the story of Hawke, a refugee who makes a home in the city of Kirkwall. Though with the humblest of beginnings, Hawke gathers a loyal group of very dangerous friends and rises to greatness as the Champion of Kirkwall.
Fenris is one such friend. The escaped slave of a magister from the country of Tevinter, Fenris is an elven warrior. His body is inscribed with glowing tattoos made of the magical mineral lyrium, which gives him powers and strength beyond normal abilities. However, his memories prior to the ritual were destroyed, and the pain was so great it haunts him even now.
Often described as 'broody', Fenris is prone to angst about his past as a slave and his uncertain future. He has a fierce hatred of magic, and a deep distrust of mages until they prove to his satisfaction that they are not weak enough to fall prey to demons and blood magic - a nearly impossible task. He appears calm, even in battle, but it's a false front. Beneath, he seethes with restrained rage, and his cold fury adds to his strength. While usually very serious, he does have a dry sense of humour and is not incapable of having fun. Fenris has absolutely no fear of speaking his mind, and makes no apologies for being who and what he is. His speech is eloquent, and occasionally prone to melodrama.
Note: Fenris' reading skills are poor, as he only began learning a few years ago.
Sample Post:
'The Caverns of Despair' is it? Strange - for a place so ominously named, I expected to find rather more inside. To think Lady Sayre suggested I might find the task of investigating it challenging. The only reason to 'despair' I'm finding here is in the realization that my time has been utterly wasted. Perhaps she didn't realize that I intend to collect my pay even if this is merely a wild goose chase that she's sent me on.
Still, it is odd. Ordinarily, even a cave without anything especially sinister about it holds a few dozen raiders or slavers, or giant spiders drop from the ceiling at every step. This one is quiet. Too quiet. Perhaps the tales of an abomination lurking in the darkness were not unfounded? Certainly nothing could live here with the sort of ravenous horror that was described to me, a monster of flesh and magic that emerges on moonless nights and preys on livestock and unwary villagers. If the demon truly exists, then it is little wonder that even the cattle in the fields were armoured. I had thought it too exaggerated a tale; I ought to have known otherwise. There is no evil to which magic cannot descend.
And what is this? A side passage bearing the foul scent of old death, and something on the wall. Perhaps writing? I cannot make it out, but a bit of light may help. Let's see . . . "It is pitch black." . . . I believe I may be all the stupider for having just read that. Who would waste their time writing something so obvious? No matter, it continues. "You are likely to be eaten by a-" What is that word? Sound it out. 'Gu-ru'? No, 'gu-re'? No, no, 'grue'. That is it, grue. Grue . . . was that not what the rumoured abomination was called? Then down this black tunnel waits the monster. It looks as though I'll have to work for my pay after all - if I can call destroying abominations ‘work’. I will enjoy this.
Grue! Hear my voice and know that it heralds the end of your accursed, magic-tainted existence! Hide in your beloved darkness if you wish; that will not stop me. I will find you and destroy you, and I will not be eaten!
Voting went here at 98.1% in.
Character: Fenris
Series: Dragon Age II
Character Age: Unknown, presumably late 20s, early 30s-ish.
Job: Hired Sword and Emergency Lighting System
Dragon Age II is the story of Hawke, a refugee who makes a home in the city of Kirkwall. Though with the humblest of beginnings, Hawke gathers a loyal group of very dangerous friends and rises to greatness as the Champion of Kirkwall.
Fenris is one such friend. The escaped slave of a magister from the country of Tevinter, Fenris is an elven warrior. His body is inscribed with glowing tattoos made of the magical mineral lyrium, which gives him powers and strength beyond normal abilities. However, his memories prior to the ritual were destroyed, and the pain was so great it haunts him even now.
Often described as 'broody', Fenris is prone to angst about his past as a slave and his uncertain future. He has a fierce hatred of magic, and a deep distrust of mages until they prove to his satisfaction that they are not weak enough to fall prey to demons and blood magic - a nearly impossible task. He appears calm, even in battle, but it's a false front. Beneath, he seethes with restrained rage, and his cold fury adds to his strength. While usually very serious, he does have a dry sense of humour and is not incapable of having fun. Fenris has absolutely no fear of speaking his mind, and makes no apologies for being who and what he is. His speech is eloquent, and occasionally prone to melodrama.
Note: Fenris' reading skills are poor, as he only began learning a few years ago.
Sample Post:
'The Caverns of Despair' is it? Strange - for a place so ominously named, I expected to find rather more inside. To think Lady Sayre suggested I might find the task of investigating it challenging. The only reason to 'despair' I'm finding here is in the realization that my time has been utterly wasted. Perhaps she didn't realize that I intend to collect my pay even if this is merely a wild goose chase that she's sent me on.
Still, it is odd. Ordinarily, even a cave without anything especially sinister about it holds a few dozen raiders or slavers, or giant spiders drop from the ceiling at every step. This one is quiet. Too quiet. Perhaps the tales of an abomination lurking in the darkness were not unfounded? Certainly nothing could live here with the sort of ravenous horror that was described to me, a monster of flesh and magic that emerges on moonless nights and preys on livestock and unwary villagers. If the demon truly exists, then it is little wonder that even the cattle in the fields were armoured. I had thought it too exaggerated a tale; I ought to have known otherwise. There is no evil to which magic cannot descend.
And what is this? A side passage bearing the foul scent of old death, and something on the wall. Perhaps writing? I cannot make it out, but a bit of light may help. Let's see . . . "It is pitch black." . . . I believe I may be all the stupider for having just read that. Who would waste their time writing something so obvious? No matter, it continues. "You are likely to be eaten by a-" What is that word? Sound it out. 'Gu-ru'? No, 'gu-re'? No, no, 'grue'. That is it, grue. Grue . . . was that not what the rumoured abomination was called? Then down this black tunnel waits the monster. It looks as though I'll have to work for my pay after all - if I can call destroying abominations ‘work’. I will enjoy this.
Grue! Hear my voice and know that it heralds the end of your accursed, magic-tainted existence! Hide in your beloved darkness if you wish; that will not stop me. I will find you and destroy you, and I will not be eaten!
Voting went here at 98.1% in.