For King and Coin
With a piece of wheat in his mouth, and wide brim sunhat. Were it not for his lack of a tan, you'd never guess he was a mage. That and the mage robes.
Level 1 Human Circle Mage
1 – Communication
3 – Constitution
2 – Cunning (Historical Lore)
1 – Dexterity
5 – Magic
2 – Perception
2 – Strength
2 – Willpower (Self-Discipline)
Armor Rating: 0 (5)
Weapon Training: Brawling & Staves
Languages: R/W Trade Tongue, R Ancient Tevine
Arcane Lance: Normal Ranged Attack, Range 16, Damage 1d6+5(magic)
Talent Lore (Novice): If I pass a lore check, the GM should add extra information to my discovery.
Magic Training: Know 3 Spells
-Staff (1d6+1 damage)
-Crossbow (2d6+1 damage, Reload: Major, Range 30/60, 20 bolts)
cart & Mule (Mr. Guss) -40 silver
5 weeks trail rations -10 silver
5 weeks feed – 1 silver -75 copper
bottle of cheap wine -2 silver
2 belt pouches -2 silver
5 pairs (10 total) candles -10 copper
2 vials of writing ink -40 copper
large research journal -60 copper
flint and steel -10 copper
oil lamp -2 silver
10 pints of lamp oil -80 copper
Gold: 0 Silver: 0 Copper: 25
Magic Test: 3d6 + 5(magic) + 0(focus)
Spellpower: 14 = 10 + 5(magic) + 0(focus)
Arcane Bolt – Deals damage to a single target within 30 yards, save Dex (acrobatics) vs Spellpower.
Save failed: target takes 2d6 + dragon dice health damage
Save succeeded: target takes 1d6 health damage
Heal – Touch attack against a single target. Target regains Xd6 health, where X is the amount of mana used (max 3 mana).
Rock Armor – When cast, I gain 5(magic) armor rating for X hours. Where X is the amount of mana I spent on the spell -2 (max 8 mana) (ie 3 mana == 1 hour & 8 mana == 6 hours).
Phiter grew up in the quiet town of Lothering. it was a small farming village in the southern part of Ferelden. With Ostagar down the main highway to the south and Redcliffe to the west. Lothering got many passersby that would stop by the Inn or chantry, to restock and rest.
The children of Lothering were taught never to go near the highway day or night, but especially at night. Monsters and bandits hid there waiting to take them away. Now Phiter had never seen a monster, but he had seen the bandits. From “his” hill, he and his brother would watch them. If they caused any problems for the people passing by, they would run to the guards quickly and tell them what was happening..
Phiter thought it helped the town, helped the travelers, and most importantly helped pass the time. After a couple months of doing this the bandits spotted them, and they set to making a plan.
A week went by and Phiter and his brother had not seen the bandits for some time. They were walking tall and proud, they had saved the village from the evil bandits. Again after they had finished their chores they approached their spot. Sitting down they looked out over the road, and again it was empty. They sat for a bit, twiddling their thumbs and toes.
Suddenly, there was a thick heavy thud. Phiter’s brother was laying face down. Phiter got up and turned around. Pain shot through his side. He tried to scream but a clothed hand covered his mouth. A man crouched in front of him, pinching his side and covering his mouth. His leg below where the man was pinching was getting warm and wet.
“Ah here’s our little heroes. Today’s your last day, you little shits.” Said the man in a hushed tone.
Phiter tried to move, but the man only pinched harder. He was getting dizzy. Tears welled up in Phiter’s eyes, as snot ran down his face.
Then the man looked away. Phiter heard footsteps. “Ah fuck, he wasn’t dead.” The man released his grip on Phiter who fell to the ground. Clutching his side. He looked down, his brother was running, and the man was about to grab him.
The man raised the knife. Phiter screamed. His side burned. Then nothing.
Suddenly there were distant voices and crying. Phiter blinked and there were people all around him. They were the other townsfolk. A woman screamed. Something was wrong. He was standing, and not where he was a moment ago. His brother was clutching his face and crying. A strange looking figure hunched next to his brother. His mother was on the other side.
His mom was trying to pull his brother away from a hunched figure. He tried to walk towards them, but metal hands held him back. “No, you need to come with me. You’re a danger to everyone here as you are.” The voice was deep and stern. Phiter turned. A Templar stood beside him.
“But…” Phiter tried.
“No. There is no time, we need to go.” With a forceful hand, the man pushed Phiter away from the crowd. As he walked, his side pinched and it hurt. His hands ached too much to even close them. He was tired. Looking back, he saw his mother finally get his brother and haul him up to her shoulder. Then she disappeared behind a wall of bodies.
Phiter spent the next 11 years of his life in the Circle. Without word from his family or friends. He had been locked away. He dreamed of many things, women, war, love, fear. Though he kept having the same dream, back at the hill top that fateful day. The gleam of the dagger, then anger, and suddenly the man flayed open, his face wrenched away, finally his body hunched over still gripping his brother.