x APP || Abax
player information.
name: Red
are you over 18?: Yes
personal lj: redfirelight
email/msn/aim/plurk/etc: AIM @ thisismyomnitool
characters in abax: None.
in character information.
series: Dragon Age: Origins
name: Zevran Arainai
sex: Male
age: 28, as a guess.
race: Elf
height: 5'1" (A guess, since elves are on the short side, and Zevran seems to be shorter than the norm.)
weight: 115 (another guess)
canon point: Before the Landsmeet, after the fight with the Crows.
previous cr: None
history:
Literally the son of a whore, Zevran was born in the capital of the country of Antiva -- aptly named "Antiva City". His mother was a Dalish elf, part of a tribe of nomadic elves, and his father was a woodcutter with a lot of gambling debts. His mother had become a prostitute in order to pay for said debts and, when his mother died, he ended up being raised in the whorehouse. Needless to say, it gave him a rather interesting perspective on life. He stayed there until the age of seven, when he was purchased by a group known as the Antivan Crows.
The Crows were an assassin's guild, for lack of a better term. They were considered to be the deadliest killers in the world, and did a lot of work in politics. Zevran wasn't too big a fan of this new profession, but, in time, he accepted it, and became one of their more promising, and better, recruits. His jobs from this time range from helping put a prince on the throne, to accidentally tripping a mage who fell to her death from a carriage. He did everything from making deaths look accidental, direct killings, seduction, poison... you name it, he probably did it in the line of duty.
Everything was looking bright for the elf. Until he suddenly developed feelings for another member of the Crows. Her name was Rinna, and, apparently, she was quite taken with him as well. This went against pretty much every rule in the assassin book. They were supposed to be hardened warriors, cold-hearted and unfeeling. Which, of course, meant they were very good at their jobs, since there was no emotional attachment to the act of killing, or the people involved. But, the attraction was just too much, and the two assassins fell in love.
It was, pretty much, doomed from the start. The two of them, and another assassin, Taliesen, took a job together. When the three were ready to hit the mark, Taliesen came forward, stating that he'd learned Rinna had accepted a bribe from their target. She was, according to his information, planning to betray them to their target. Zevran and Taliesen killed her, and Zevran proceeded to mock and insult her as she died... while she pleaded innocence, and told him again and again that she loved him.
And then, it turned out, the traitor wasn't Rinna at all. It wasn't until after the target was dead that this was revealed, leaving Zevran thoroughly sickened with himself. He put in a bid for a contract that was certain to be suicide shortly after -- killing the last of Fereldan's Grey Wardens, elite and specially chosen warriors who defended the nation against the threat of the Darkspawn, and their Blight.
Since no one else wanted to try and take on the Grey Wardens, Zevran won the bid, and took the contract. The current Regent of Fereldan had ordered the Wardens' deaths -- since he felt they posed a threat to the nation, moreso than any Darkspawn -- and, so, off Zevran went to see to it. He ambushed the Warden, and party, but, as fate would have it, lost the fight. Instead of killing him, however, the Warden let him live, on the condition that he join the party, to fight the Darkspawn, and rally enough allies to take down Ferelden's regent, and stop the Blight threatening the world.
It seemed a simple enough choice.
He traveled with the Warden and company, assisting in gathering allies from all the major races of Fereldan -- dwarves, men, mages, and the Dalish elves. With this accomplished, they marched to the capital of Fereldan, the city of Denerim, to call what was known as a Landsmeet. There, it was hoped the nobility of Fereldan would side with the Warden and their allies, kick the regent off the throne, and rally the remaining armies against the Blight. And, it was here, that the Crows caught up to Zevran.
Taliesen himself lead the group of Crows sent to finish the job Zevran had fumbled. He offered a choice -- Zevran could either rejoin them, or he could die with the Warden. Zevran chose the Warden, who had, in a sense, spared his life in a way he'd been unable to do for Rinna. He had a loyalty to the Warden now, and he would stand by it.
The team of Crows were wiped out. Since, it seemed, anyone back in Antiva would assume Zevran had died with them, he was, for the first time since he was seven, free of them. He made the decision to stay with the Warden, to see the end of the Blight through.
... Of course, this sort of went down the tubes when, after promising to stay with the Warden, he somehow wound up in another world entirely.
personality:
Imagine if Puss In Boots and Prince Naveen had a lovechild that was sort of a nymphomaniac. There you go. Zevran in a nutshell.
No, in all seriousness, Zevran acts pretty much just like that. He's confident, collected, and, by his own words, suave. He's fairly easygoing, being one of the few members of the Warden's party that doesn't suffer massive approval shifts, based on the decisions the Warden makes. He doesn't mind when the other party members, or anyone else, calls his profession into suspicion, upon his induction into the Warden's group. Things like that tend to roll off his shoulders, and he can shrug off their comments with ease, some deflection, and, occasionally, a rather sharp wit.
Not to say that he makes light of his profession. He knows full well what he did for a living, and makes no excuses for it. It was a way of life, for him, and that's all. He did, he says, enjoy it, on occasion. But he doesn't believe he was a murderer. Although, should that word be thrown around, he does get annoyed, defensive, even -- as if he's convinced himself he's right, and doesn't like it being called into question. Like his profession, Zevran's interest and skill in the area of the bedroom is one of the few things that can get him irritated, or even angry, if questioned. He dislikes the idea that enjoying these things is wrong, and gets annoyed if, for example, the PC calls him a whore, or makes other derogatory comments of that nature. He will become much more curt and irritable if this happens, ending conversations abruptly.
In addition... Zevran likes sex, sensuality, and physical aesthetics. He's unashamedly flirtatious, and quite open regarding the topic. He believes that one should take the pleasures of life where they can, be it in the company of someone attractive, looking at something or someone pleasing, wine, etc. He doesn't really care what it is, if he enjoys it, and he has a moment, he'll probably indulge. Because, why not? He doesn't tend to dwell on squishy things like feelings. Such things were never safe. However, this can be something of a sore spot. He often has to be pushed to admit more serious feelings, as shown in his romance path. Sure, he'll quite blithely describe what he thinks of a situation, offer his opinion, and comment on someone's decisions, but when it comes down to what he really feels, he's quite guarded, and needs to be pressed to say anything meaningful at all, even when he tries to end the discussion, or otherwise avoid the situation. He's much happier in his nonchalance than he is dealing with his feelings.
It's frequently shown that his cheerful exterior and "Casanova" tendencies are a way of keeping people at a distance. If you're an assassin who holds nothing close, there's nothing to lose, is there? Despite this, there are a few things he truly values. He tends to respect a strong will to live, and those who fight for their lives, instead of lying down and taking whatever comes -- such as the Warden, and others within the group. He does have a fondness for the Dalish elves, likely due to his heritage, and will practically beg the Warden to change their mind, should they decide to wipe out the local clan. It's one of the few times he sounds vulnerable, and almost desperate.
abilities/powers:
Zevran is an assassin. He has no supernatural abilities, only the skills granted to him by his Crow training.
He's highly skilled with blades -- usually preferring to use two short blades, or one long and one short -- as well as with poisons. In terms of his skill with a blade, he's shown to be capable of taking down darkspawn, which are considered to be fairly difficult enemies to defeat. His exact capability isn't stated, but, it can be inferred that he's more than just merely good with swords.
Exactly what his skill with poison is, the game doesn't state explicitly, but it can be inferred that he knows enough to kill someone in a manner of his employer's choosing, either quietly and with little evidence, or with a lot of noise and such. He knows how to pick a lock or two, and can remain unseen and undetected as he moves through a room, thanks to his stealth training. In-game, this makes him capable of moving completely unnoticed, and disarming traps. He's capable with archery, as well, depending on the skill tree the player chooses.
For the most part, however, Zevran is restricted to wearing lighter armors, and carrying lighter weapons.
first person sample:
[Well hello there Nautilus. There is a new voice for you today. It... sounds vaguely Spanish. Or Italian. One of the two. It's hard to tell. But it also sounds very confused.]
Huh.
I suppose by now I should be... accustomed to appearing in mysterious places without explanation. [Like the Fade.] However... the Warden is normally here in order to instigate all manner of smashing, and stabbing, in order to return. Yet, it would seem they have strangely absented themselves from this... fair city. Naturally, I can only assume I am where I should not be.
So! If it is all the same to you, my mysterious hosts, I will be returning to Fereldan! You cannot expect me to stay so far from where I am needed, can you? The others will surely perish from lack of good taste while I am away, and we cannot have that.
This sounds fair to you, yes?
[A pause.]
Ah... why... is the sky... red?
((Sample taken from an entry: here))
third person sample:
Darkspawn. Always with the darkspawn. One would think, that after a while, fate, or the Maker, whichever, would get bored of constantly throwing packs of the blighted beasts into their path. Maybe some bandits, for a change. That would have been nice. However, Zevran's feelings on the matter had seemingly fallen on deaf ears. The party had only barely broken camp, moving on to whatever new task awaited them, when, out of nowhere, they'd stumbled across an ambush. Warriors waded into the fray with their usual battle cries and crash of armor and weapons, while their mages fell back with the bard, magic and arrows sniping into the horde with lethal accuracy.
Speaking of which...
A ball of cold magic streaked past, barely missing his left ear, and turning the encroaching darkspawn grunt to a solid sheet of ugly black ice. Huh -- Morrigan must have still been annoyed with him. Sad, really. He'd won that bet fair and square. She had no cause to be so irritated over so trivial a thing. And she was very much worth all those compliments he'd paid her. If only she'd listened!
Sadly, there didn't seem to be any more time to dwell on the tragedy of the fair Morrigan. As his shortswords whipped through the chest of an unfortunate darkspawn, black fluid spurting in a geyser from the wound, the battlefield was shaken with a bone-rattling bellow. The party paused, the rhythm and chaos of the fight broken for one brief moment as the noise registered.
"Great," Alistair drawled, somewhere to Zevran's right, his shield ramming a path through the clustered enemy. "They've brought an ogre."
"Ah! But you know what they say about ogres, my friend?" Zevran shot back, his voice a bright, cheerful contrast to the templar's.
The pause that followed his question wasn't entirely due to Alistair's beating the darkspawn in front of him brutally over the head with the base of his shield. It was a pause the elf was, sadly, used to hearing when he asked the man a question. "No, I'm not even going to answer that," he said. "You just keep that one to yourself."
"If you insist! How sad... it was a particularly good anecdote."
case no: No preference.
name: Red
are you over 18?: Yes
personal lj: redfirelight
email/msn/aim/plurk/etc: AIM @ thisismyomnitool
characters in abax: None.
in character information.
series: Dragon Age: Origins
name: Zevran Arainai
sex: Male
age: 28, as a guess.
race: Elf
height: 5'1" (A guess, since elves are on the short side, and Zevran seems to be shorter than the norm.)
weight: 115 (another guess)
canon point: Before the Landsmeet, after the fight with the Crows.
previous cr: None
history:
Literally the son of a whore, Zevran was born in the capital of the country of Antiva -- aptly named "Antiva City". His mother was a Dalish elf, part of a tribe of nomadic elves, and his father was a woodcutter with a lot of gambling debts. His mother had become a prostitute in order to pay for said debts and, when his mother died, he ended up being raised in the whorehouse. Needless to say, it gave him a rather interesting perspective on life. He stayed there until the age of seven, when he was purchased by a group known as the Antivan Crows.
The Crows were an assassin's guild, for lack of a better term. They were considered to be the deadliest killers in the world, and did a lot of work in politics. Zevran wasn't too big a fan of this new profession, but, in time, he accepted it, and became one of their more promising, and better, recruits. His jobs from this time range from helping put a prince on the throne, to accidentally tripping a mage who fell to her death from a carriage. He did everything from making deaths look accidental, direct killings, seduction, poison... you name it, he probably did it in the line of duty.
Everything was looking bright for the elf. Until he suddenly developed feelings for another member of the Crows. Her name was Rinna, and, apparently, she was quite taken with him as well. This went against pretty much every rule in the assassin book. They were supposed to be hardened warriors, cold-hearted and unfeeling. Which, of course, meant they were very good at their jobs, since there was no emotional attachment to the act of killing, or the people involved. But, the attraction was just too much, and the two assassins fell in love.
It was, pretty much, doomed from the start. The two of them, and another assassin, Taliesen, took a job together. When the three were ready to hit the mark, Taliesen came forward, stating that he'd learned Rinna had accepted a bribe from their target. She was, according to his information, planning to betray them to their target. Zevran and Taliesen killed her, and Zevran proceeded to mock and insult her as she died... while she pleaded innocence, and told him again and again that she loved him.
And then, it turned out, the traitor wasn't Rinna at all. It wasn't until after the target was dead that this was revealed, leaving Zevran thoroughly sickened with himself. He put in a bid for a contract that was certain to be suicide shortly after -- killing the last of Fereldan's Grey Wardens, elite and specially chosen warriors who defended the nation against the threat of the Darkspawn, and their Blight.
Since no one else wanted to try and take on the Grey Wardens, Zevran won the bid, and took the contract. The current Regent of Fereldan had ordered the Wardens' deaths -- since he felt they posed a threat to the nation, moreso than any Darkspawn -- and, so, off Zevran went to see to it. He ambushed the Warden, and party, but, as fate would have it, lost the fight. Instead of killing him, however, the Warden let him live, on the condition that he join the party, to fight the Darkspawn, and rally enough allies to take down Ferelden's regent, and stop the Blight threatening the world.
It seemed a simple enough choice.
He traveled with the Warden and company, assisting in gathering allies from all the major races of Fereldan -- dwarves, men, mages, and the Dalish elves. With this accomplished, they marched to the capital of Fereldan, the city of Denerim, to call what was known as a Landsmeet. There, it was hoped the nobility of Fereldan would side with the Warden and their allies, kick the regent off the throne, and rally the remaining armies against the Blight. And, it was here, that the Crows caught up to Zevran.
Taliesen himself lead the group of Crows sent to finish the job Zevran had fumbled. He offered a choice -- Zevran could either rejoin them, or he could die with the Warden. Zevran chose the Warden, who had, in a sense, spared his life in a way he'd been unable to do for Rinna. He had a loyalty to the Warden now, and he would stand by it.
The team of Crows were wiped out. Since, it seemed, anyone back in Antiva would assume Zevran had died with them, he was, for the first time since he was seven, free of them. He made the decision to stay with the Warden, to see the end of the Blight through.
... Of course, this sort of went down the tubes when, after promising to stay with the Warden, he somehow wound up in another world entirely.
personality:
Imagine if Puss In Boots and Prince Naveen had a lovechild that was sort of a nymphomaniac. There you go. Zevran in a nutshell.
No, in all seriousness, Zevran acts pretty much just like that. He's confident, collected, and, by his own words, suave. He's fairly easygoing, being one of the few members of the Warden's party that doesn't suffer massive approval shifts, based on the decisions the Warden makes. He doesn't mind when the other party members, or anyone else, calls his profession into suspicion, upon his induction into the Warden's group. Things like that tend to roll off his shoulders, and he can shrug off their comments with ease, some deflection, and, occasionally, a rather sharp wit.
Not to say that he makes light of his profession. He knows full well what he did for a living, and makes no excuses for it. It was a way of life, for him, and that's all. He did, he says, enjoy it, on occasion. But he doesn't believe he was a murderer. Although, should that word be thrown around, he does get annoyed, defensive, even -- as if he's convinced himself he's right, and doesn't like it being called into question. Like his profession, Zevran's interest and skill in the area of the bedroom is one of the few things that can get him irritated, or even angry, if questioned. He dislikes the idea that enjoying these things is wrong, and gets annoyed if, for example, the PC calls him a whore, or makes other derogatory comments of that nature. He will become much more curt and irritable if this happens, ending conversations abruptly.
In addition... Zevran likes sex, sensuality, and physical aesthetics. He's unashamedly flirtatious, and quite open regarding the topic. He believes that one should take the pleasures of life where they can, be it in the company of someone attractive, looking at something or someone pleasing, wine, etc. He doesn't really care what it is, if he enjoys it, and he has a moment, he'll probably indulge. Because, why not? He doesn't tend to dwell on squishy things like feelings. Such things were never safe. However, this can be something of a sore spot. He often has to be pushed to admit more serious feelings, as shown in his romance path. Sure, he'll quite blithely describe what he thinks of a situation, offer his opinion, and comment on someone's decisions, but when it comes down to what he really feels, he's quite guarded, and needs to be pressed to say anything meaningful at all, even when he tries to end the discussion, or otherwise avoid the situation. He's much happier in his nonchalance than he is dealing with his feelings.
It's frequently shown that his cheerful exterior and "Casanova" tendencies are a way of keeping people at a distance. If you're an assassin who holds nothing close, there's nothing to lose, is there? Despite this, there are a few things he truly values. He tends to respect a strong will to live, and those who fight for their lives, instead of lying down and taking whatever comes -- such as the Warden, and others within the group. He does have a fondness for the Dalish elves, likely due to his heritage, and will practically beg the Warden to change their mind, should they decide to wipe out the local clan. It's one of the few times he sounds vulnerable, and almost desperate.
abilities/powers:
Zevran is an assassin. He has no supernatural abilities, only the skills granted to him by his Crow training.
He's highly skilled with blades -- usually preferring to use two short blades, or one long and one short -- as well as with poisons. In terms of his skill with a blade, he's shown to be capable of taking down darkspawn, which are considered to be fairly difficult enemies to defeat. His exact capability isn't stated, but, it can be inferred that he's more than just merely good with swords.
Exactly what his skill with poison is, the game doesn't state explicitly, but it can be inferred that he knows enough to kill someone in a manner of his employer's choosing, either quietly and with little evidence, or with a lot of noise and such. He knows how to pick a lock or two, and can remain unseen and undetected as he moves through a room, thanks to his stealth training. In-game, this makes him capable of moving completely unnoticed, and disarming traps. He's capable with archery, as well, depending on the skill tree the player chooses.
For the most part, however, Zevran is restricted to wearing lighter armors, and carrying lighter weapons.
first person sample:
[Well hello there Nautilus. There is a new voice for you today. It... sounds vaguely Spanish. Or Italian. One of the two. It's hard to tell. But it also sounds very confused.]
Huh.
I suppose by now I should be... accustomed to appearing in mysterious places without explanation. [Like the Fade.] However... the Warden is normally here in order to instigate all manner of smashing, and stabbing, in order to return. Yet, it would seem they have strangely absented themselves from this... fair city. Naturally, I can only assume I am where I should not be.
So! If it is all the same to you, my mysterious hosts, I will be returning to Fereldan! You cannot expect me to stay so far from where I am needed, can you? The others will surely perish from lack of good taste while I am away, and we cannot have that.
This sounds fair to you, yes?
[A pause.]
Ah... why... is the sky... red?
((Sample taken from an entry: here))
third person sample:
Darkspawn. Always with the darkspawn. One would think, that after a while, fate, or the Maker, whichever, would get bored of constantly throwing packs of the blighted beasts into their path. Maybe some bandits, for a change. That would have been nice. However, Zevran's feelings on the matter had seemingly fallen on deaf ears. The party had only barely broken camp, moving on to whatever new task awaited them, when, out of nowhere, they'd stumbled across an ambush. Warriors waded into the fray with their usual battle cries and crash of armor and weapons, while their mages fell back with the bard, magic and arrows sniping into the horde with lethal accuracy.
Speaking of which...
A ball of cold magic streaked past, barely missing his left ear, and turning the encroaching darkspawn grunt to a solid sheet of ugly black ice. Huh -- Morrigan must have still been annoyed with him. Sad, really. He'd won that bet fair and square. She had no cause to be so irritated over so trivial a thing. And she was very much worth all those compliments he'd paid her. If only she'd listened!
Sadly, there didn't seem to be any more time to dwell on the tragedy of the fair Morrigan. As his shortswords whipped through the chest of an unfortunate darkspawn, black fluid spurting in a geyser from the wound, the battlefield was shaken with a bone-rattling bellow. The party paused, the rhythm and chaos of the fight broken for one brief moment as the noise registered.
"Great," Alistair drawled, somewhere to Zevran's right, his shield ramming a path through the clustered enemy. "They've brought an ogre."
"Ah! But you know what they say about ogres, my friend?" Zevran shot back, his voice a bright, cheerful contrast to the templar's.
The pause that followed his question wasn't entirely due to Alistair's beating the darkspawn in front of him brutally over the head with the base of his shield. It was a pause the elf was, sadly, used to hearing when he asked the man a question. "No, I'm not even going to answer that," he said. "You just keep that one to yourself."
"If you insist! How sad... it was a particularly good anecdote."
case no: No preference.