Dragon Age: Shadows of the Blight
A Human Circle Mage who isn't too fond of the Circle's rules
Background: Human Circle Mage
Appearance: 6’ 1’.75’, 189.5 lbs., Mustache and Goatee, Lightish-Brown hair, Pale blue eyes (become different colors based on strong emotions)
Class: Circle Mage
Spells and Class Powers::
Arcane Lance, Heal, Fire Blast, Shock, Rock Armor
(group: Brawling and Staves)
Arcane Lance (16 yds.)
Cunning: 2 (Arcane Lore, Religious Lore)
Dexterity: 2 (Initiative)
Willpower: 2 (Self-Discipline)
Talents and Languages::
Ancient Tevene (read)
Quick Reflexes (N)
90 yards of Rope
5 Pints of Oil
Flint and Steel
2 Vials of Ink
1 Week of travel Rations
1. Get revenge on his biological father
2. Become an arcane warrior (specialization)
Likes having an excess of rope handy.
Birthday is on the 17th of August.
The Story of Glegori
I was born into a very large family with very little money. My parents didn’t want me, so they decided to just send me floating down the town’s main river.
As I went along the river, a poor infant who wasn’t wanted by his parents, I began to cry. That caught the attention of a young female elf. She fished me out of the river and took me to her home where she presented me to her husband, a man of magic. As they consider what they wanted to do with me, the man detected a disturbance. As I sat there, I apparently soiled my diaper (keep in mind that this is all secondhand information. There’s no way I could have remembered my infancy so vividly) and since nobody was helping me I became rather frustrated. When this occurred, he discovered I released an abnormally high amount of magical energy. He realized that I possessed great potential, and the two decided to raise me as if I were their own child. (I will now refer to these people as my parents)
I never went to any sort of actual school. My mother, who was like a priestess to me, taught me my historical knowledge and language skills. My father, a potion salesman, taught me arithmetic and my magic/combat skills.
My mother was very kind and gentle with her teaching. Since she was a priestess, many of my early readings were religious scriptures, so I had to learn Ancient Teveren in addition to the Trade Tongue, as well as absorbing religious lore.
My father was a very intelligent man who enjoyed fantasizing. His way of teaching was very engaging. He wanted me to unlock my full magical potential, but also didn’t want me to burn the house down in while I was just beginning. Therefore, my first ever spell was Heal. He eventually also taught me arcane lore to help me become even more intelligent. He taught me many mathematic equations that he agreed would probably not be used much in real life (such as a^2+b^2=c^2). At age 10, I began to learn how to battle using staves (particularly the quarterstaff), and at 14 years old, I learned attack spells, such as arcane lance, fire blast, and shock.
Naturally, this changed. And of course, it was a change for the worse. Much worse.
One day, when I was 18, an army came into town. Their leader went to town hall, demanding that we surrender or prepare to die. The man seemed almost … familiar, and the more I heard from him, as he tried to make citizens revolt for no good reason, he told of how “[He] lived with so little money about 15 years ago, and, by rising up, killing, and stealing, [he] gained power.” In my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was this cruel man’s biological child. The citizens chose to disregard the man’s rants for the most part, but it didn’t matter. He just didn’t want his own troops killed in battle if he could avoid it and still get what he wanted. He eventually declared war on our city-state and overtook our land.
After taking over, he drafted all warrior-type persons into his army. However, he saw a great threat in those who were highly skilled in the magical arts. He sent out a “secret” police force to kill anyone he saw as a threat who lived in the borders. We were very worried. We tried to conceal the fact that my father and I were well trained in these areas, and it seemed as if we were going to get away with it. Unfortunately, when a colleague of my father was captured, they offered him a deal stating that if he gave the names of three mages still in the city in exchange for letting him out into the world, he gave the name of my father as one of his three. The police came late in the night, blew the door in, ransacked the place, and brutally murdered my father. When I say it was brutal, I mean it was horrifying, malicious, and simply cruel. They killed him as slowly as they could, cutting off his fingers and toes, slowing cutting off more and more off of his arms and legs until they were but bloody stumps. They pulled out clubs and began beating him, until they decided to just burn what was left of him because it was taking too long for them to just beat him to death. Then they took my mother away, and I would have been too if their commander didn’t say, “Leave him! He is of no use to us, and besides, I need him to clean up the body, and it would be a waste of our time if we did it!” I had no idea what happened to my mother, or even why they took her until about three years after the event originally took place. And when I did find out, I nearly threw up in disgust.
I received a letter from the new government (a complete dictatorship, in case you couldn’t guess) informing me of a “service” from women working for the government. Seeing as I was a young male with no significant other and I was observed to be a very disgruntled person, they must have thought I was the perfect audience for this “service” (Which, if you couldn’t figure out what it was by the context clues, was a brothel ran by the government). What disgusted me and what makes this relevant is that there was a list of names. On it there was the name “Yang Miamoto.” My mother. Was abducted. By the government. To be. A prostitute. For their economical gain. At that point I was prepared to just kill myself, but then a plot manifested in my mind. If I could get them to have her come to my home, we may be able to escape this nightmare of a city. But I assumed that they wouldn’t be fools like that. They’d send soldiers with them to make sure they didn’t just run away. So, I thought, perhaps I could dig a tunnel leading to outside of the walls. So, as I began my project, and as they kept sending me these forms, I could only hope that nothing bad would happen to her in the time it took me to complete my task.
Over the span of three more years, I eventually accomplished my goal. I had enough money to ask for her to come down to my house, I had supplies all ready to go, and had plenty of spare clothes for both of us. I sent the form in under the pseudonym “William Lloyd Garrison” and prepared to liberate the loving, caring woman who raised me almost from my birth.
She arrived later that night, the only thing protecting her from the cold snows of our land being some pathetic rags and undergarments that seemed too small.
When she saw me, she nearly cried out, and said “Glegori! Oh, how I’ve missed you! They told me you were dead!”
I replied with, “Yes, well, rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated. I’m going to get you away from this evil place. Here, put these on, I’m sure you’ll find them significantly more comfortable. Now, we have to hurry, I’ve got some supplies all prepared and I’ve dug a tunnel for us to escape through.”
“Thank you so much, Glegori, my wonderful son. There’s no way I could ever repay you for this.”
“There’s no need to ever try to repay me. In fact, this is almost like me paying you back from when you fished me out of the river, all those years ago. Quickly, we need to get as much of a head start as we can.” I said, grabbing the quarterstaff my father gave to me as a gift shortly before… well, you know.
We were about ¾ of the way through when we heard a shout come from the now far end of the tunnel, something along the lines of “There they are! They’re running away!” We didn’t get far out of the tunnel before they caught up, though. We were suddenly surrounded, and it looked like the end. I readied my staff, ready to make a final stand when one of them fired a crossbow at me. It failed to hit me, but instead lodged itself deep into my mother’s heart. She fell to the ground in near silence. I shouted a “No!” and tried my best to remove the arrow and heal her. There was no use. There was nothing I could do. With her last breath she managed to whisper to me,”Thank you, Glegori. I… Iiiah… love… y.y.you….Uhhh…” She was dead.
As you may imagine, I was livid. As they were all loading their cross bows, trained them on my head, and were ready to hear the order to fire, I felt a surge of power rush through my veins. In one swift movement and a shout that could have been heard for miles, I basically exploded. Well, sort of. More like having me engulfed by a giant fireball that rapidly grew out toward my foes. I incinerated all of their weapons, yet about half of them survived the blast. So then they tried to run up to me in an attempt to beat me down. Instead, my hands seemed to catch fire, and I very nearly punched off one of their heads. Then I pulled out my quarterstaff and whacked another man in the back of his head. This continued for while until there was only one other man there to fight me. The officer who ordered my father to be killed and left me there to clean up. The man who stole away my mother. The same one who shot her. I was going to have some sick, twisted fun with him.
It was a matter of seconds before I had him pinned against one of the nearby trees. “What are you?” he asked fearfully. “Well that’s not very nice. You should ask someone what their name is before you ask what they are.” I said with a slight maniacal tone to my voice. “I’ll give you an example of how you should ask someone to introduce themselves. What’s your name?” “Frank. My name is Frank Torchwick.” “OK, Frank. What do you do for a living? What’s your family like?” I’m a soldier and the son of the great king.” “Oh really? How old are you? 35? Just old enough to perhaps remember your father having another child and your newly-born brother set in a basket floating down a river? Seem familiar?” “Wh. what? Oh… OH NO!” he exclaimed with great fear as he realized my origins. “Maybe you also remember killing a man about six years ago? Having his supposed child clean up the body because it would have been a waste of your time? I believe it was also you who fired the crossbow that hit the woman who is currently dead and coloring the snow around her corpse a sickening blood red.” “If you’re going to kill me, just do it now and do it quickly.” “Oh, no. That would be too easy. You want that to happen now. But instead, I think you should deal with a bit of pain yourself.” I proclaimed shortly before breaking his legs. “Now, would you kindly go back home and tell daddy about this?” I threw him into the tunnel, sealed the entrance, and went to go decide what I should do next.
As I went to carry my deceased mother to a suitable place to bury her, I met an incredibly mysterious person whose face was masked. “Look,” I told this person (who turned out to be a woman) “I can’t talk now I need to take care of my mother.” “I understand. Please meet me at the cottage at the base of that hill when you have completed your task.”
I buried her near the edge of the plateau, engraving a rock with the text, “Yang Miamoto: May she Rest in Peace” to act as a tombstone. I decided to also put up a monument to my father there as well, writing on a second stone, “In Memory of Wren Miamoto.” I left the supplies my mom was going to use there (I had no use for most of them) and planted a tree in between the two stones. I knelt down murmured a prayer for my parents, and when I got up, the tree somehow sprouted. I don’t know how exactly this happened. It just did. Probably just magic or something, but it was very nice. As I left, a faint breeze blew and I swear I could smell roses, mother’s favorite flower. I smiled slightly, and said “Goodbye” as a small tear formed in the corner of my eye.
I had decided to meet the woman who, I only then realized, was not there at any point during the encounter with the soldiers/policemen (I really have no idea what they were). When I reached the door, I was about to knock when it opened suddenly to the cloaked individual, a sharpened dagger in her hand. “Oh, it’s you,” she said as she sheathed the blade. “Sorry about that, it’s just that I couldn’t tell who was there before I opened the door.” “No worries. I’ve been through much worse today. So let me ask, who are you, where did you come from, and why do want me?” “My name is Ruby, and I am a part of an organization that tries to stop corrupt men such as the one who rules the city you came from. They dispatched me to this place from the Circle Tower, which is essentially our base-of-operations. There was a man who lived here a while ago, Wren Miamoto, and…” “The man who raised me. My father. Was he one of your allies?” “Yes. One of the last messages we received from him was that he had a child who had great potential.” “It’s probably safe to say that was me.” “Yeah, anyway, we eventually decided to send some scouts up, including myself, and when you did your whole, ‘Fiery-Explosion-of-Utter-Destruction’ thing, that sent out a lot of power. The closest person who could get to you was me, and well, here we are.” “OK, soooo, you want me to join you?” “Yes.” “… Count me in.” I said at last. “Let’s go.”
The journey was pretty long, and in that time, the two of us spoke about our pasts. She made a remark that not many elves become religious leaders, like my mother did. “I guess we were just isolated from everyone else.” I think she kind of loved me, and I guess I loved her a little bit back. We never said it, but it was more through non-verbal communication that we shared our emotions, what with the little signs, the flirts, and the whatnot.
We eventually made it to the Circle Tower that she talked about before. I was inducted into their order, and in time, was sent on a mission to take care of some rouge darkspawn along with some other people in the order who I hadn’t gotten to meet. That was just before I met a group of adventurers…