Fucking about in Ferelden
Elf Circle Mage
Background: Circle Mage
Communication: 3 Etiquette
Cunning: 4 Arcane Lore
Magic: 2 Creation, Entropy
Perception: 0 Seeing
- Arcane Lance
- Spell Lance
- Heroic Offense
- Vulnerability Hex
- Affliction Hex
- Chirurgy, Journeyman
Coming from squalor, this Elven mage has absorbed as much lore and magical knowledge he possibly could from the Circle of Starkhaven, in the hope of bettering himself. Dreams of wealth drive him. Expect this young Elf to jump at the chance of making some coin, even he has to be morally flexible in so doing.
Women are his weakness. Wine his downfall.
Sent to a new Circle (due to an unfortunate misunderstanding involving the Knight Commanders daughter), he must now build a new life. And hope his past doesn’t catch up with him.
Growing up – as many elves do- in abject poverty, Yeran spent his formative years often day dreaming of a more blessed life, and would frequently covet the wealth and privilege he saw all around him, being extended to human and dwarf kind. And denied his own.
He wanted for himself and his family a life as good as could be bought, at least for an elven family. Despite the destitution that pervaded his early years, Yeran knew that one day he would harness the world around him and forge a reality from the fragments and embers of his dreams. It was during these years that Yeran – unbeknownst to himself – was developing the foundations of the mercenary nature that would – in later years – play such an integral role in his decision making.
When he was 10, marauders stormed through the marches and as had been done so many times before, the elves were but fodder in the strategic minds of war mongering nobles. His mother and father were killed, his older sister taken. Yet in each of the many horrors of that day Lady destiny was at work. In the aftermath of that atrocity, swimming in the sea of Yeran’s insanity, She played a subtle etude, and seeded in him his salvation.
One of the village elders saw Yeran rocking over another elfling, Manwë, who was badly wounded and screaming for his mother. The harrowing shrill cries made the old Elf’s heart ache, as if his body were attempting to reject it. He looked away, until a faint blue light tinted his periphery. The old Elf saw Yeran’s hands and arms shanking, still rocking back and forth over the broken body of his friend. The blue light became brighter….
Yeran had saved his friend. The elder made sure that the young Elf’s ability didn’t go unnoticed.
Yeran was sent to the Circle of Starkhaven. Images of the night that sent him here were forever etched into his mind’s eye, but in these new surroundings he saw opportunity. Compared to the life he’d been born into, he decided life in this tower could be considered luxury. He knew he could focus here, and let those images of death and destruction fuel him and drive him to that dream he craved so much.
He progressed quickly, and by 15 he had survived his Harrowing. Having shown particular promise in healing magic throughout his training, he was put to use immediately on contracts that brought in coin for the Tower, or furthered it’s agenda.
He would often find himself in taverns, brothels and all manner of unsavory places. And he found he liked them all just fine. Alas, this begun his love affair with wine. “The redder the better!” He would often declare in drunken slurs. Quickly followed up with “Same applies to women!” usually garnering cheers from the room.
For an Elf, he had managed to fit in reasonably well. His down to earth nature, compassion for underdogs and generally shrude tongue earned him many – albeit mostly tertiary – friends. Even though the occasional “unfortunate event” did happen, what he found most bothersome was the Templars. He was paid in gold and status dearly over the last few years, and many of the Circle elites felt his attitude damaged their reputation. But he had, for a time, a good reputation. This reputation earned him – and therefore the Circle – more work than most of his peers; mercenaries to lords would ask for his services. And this kept him from being completely excommunicated.
Alas, no amount of renown would save him when he was caught in a compromising situation with the Knight Commanders daughter. In the Knight Commanders eyes very few men were fit for his daughter and an Elf mage bedding her was something that could not be tolerated. Yeran was stripped of his Enchanter rank becoming just a Mage again, had to ‘donate’ all the gold he had saved as an apology, and was banished to another tower.
To save face of the First Enchanter, this was done under the guise of a transfer, requested by Yeran himself and graciously granted by the new Circle.
And so it is that Yeran arrives at Kinloch Hold, at the mercy of First Enchanter Irving, awaiting his first mission.