Ser Dorn Blathe

Knight in the service of his liege lord, Bann Nicola Baranti

Description:

Background: Ferelden Knight
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Appearance: 6’5’’, 210 lbs. Clean shaven. Calm, brooding face. Carries the symbol of Bann Nicola Baranti on the left breast of his breastplate.
Class: Warrior
Level: 1
Speed: 12
Defense: 13
Armor: Heavy Mail – 7 armor rating
Health: 47
Weaponry:

  • Claymore(Two-Handed Sword), Attack=3D6+4, Damage=3d6+4
  • Longbow, Attack=3D6+3, Damage=1D6+3
  • Morningstar, Attack=3D6+4, Damage=1D6+3
  • Gauntlet, Attack+ 3D6+4, Damage=1d3+5

Attributes:

  • Communication= 2
  • Constitution = 3
  • Cunning = 1
    -(Military Lore)
  • Dexterity = 3
    -(Riding)
  • Magic = 0
  • Perception = 1
  • Strength = 5
    -(Heavy Blades)
  • Willpower = 2
    -(Courage)

Talents & Languages:

  • Trade Tongue
  • Armor (Novice)
  • Two-Hander (Novice)
  • Archery (Novice)

Concept: Paragon/Tanklomat

Equipment:

  • Backpack
  • Travelers Garb
  • Waterskip
  • Heavy Mail
  • Longbow
  • Claymore
  • Morningstar
  • Quiver
  • Whetstone
  • Flint & Steel
  • 3 Lesser Healing
  • Horse
  • GP: 1
  • SP: 56
  • CP: 7
Bio:

When I was 14, I heard something beautiful outside my bedroom window.
There were no chimes outside, nor was there a soft pitter patter of rain.
In the courtyard of the castle where my family resided (my father having also been a knight) were two men, sparring, swords drawn and ready for battle. What I heard were the melodious sounds of clashing steel, ringing in the air as dawn grew near. I opened my window and saw my father, wielding our ancestral Claymore, easily besting his opponent, the Arl of the castle. I saw the sparks light up what was left of the night, and as dawn approached, closer, ever closer, I grew more and more infatuated with the art of swordplay. When my father saw my beaming face, he and the arl immediately stopped and entered the great hall for breakfast.
My father never wanted me to be a knight, for he felt that the violent life that a knight led was not a suitable one for his son. Unfortunately for him, he and the arl were at Ostagar when it fell through Loghain’s treachery. I was 17 then.
Left defenseless, darkspawn assaulted my mother and I’s home. I picked up a morningstar from my father’s war chest as well as a longbow and quiver of arrows. With this I did my best to counter the assault, and with the other squire’s I repelled the first wave.
They were only the scouting party.
The second wave was a massacre. I was the only squire left alive after that confrontation, the rest had given their lives. My mother, too, was dead. She had caught an arrow that was meant for my head in her chest by jumping in front of it. My mother’s dying screams still echo in my nightmares. Oddly enough, I found my ancestral blade on one of the dead darkspawn, snapped in half. I scarcely had the time to grab it and get out before the third wave burned the Arling to the ground. I was the only survivor.
I barely made it to Denerim alive. I used the last of my budgeted money to reforge the Claymore. When my story reached the ears of Bann Nicola Baranti, she was not deaf. She rewarded me the position of knight for my actions, and she helped me through obtaining my own residency. She even offered me a position in her gaurd! In need of the coin, I accepted.
Now, She has aided me again, she has awarded me her patronage as token for actions done in Denerim regarding cultists. It was offered to me at a dinner where I met her grandson, and I accepted, thankful for her efforts.
Someday, I will return to the arling, I will massacre the darkspawn infestation there just as they did to me and my friends, and I will see to it that every squire, maid, parent, and serf who fought by my side that day will be buried with “ser” on their gravestone.

Ser Dorn Blathe

Dragon Age: Shadows of the Blight SonGuildMaster The_Paragon