Affinant sa tête au scout silencieux, Martin s'est déposé à l'arrière du wagon et a tapé sa pipe, tapotant lourdement sur les cendres pour s'assurer qu'elles étaient bien et vraiment éteintes avant de se tourner vers la Compagnie. Éclairant sa gorge avec une forte grognement, la toux, qui s'est transformée en un hochet profond, en plein essor d'une toux alors qu'il s'est trouvé penché sur pirater le phlegme épais, Martin a appelé l'attention.
« Nous allons par-dessus terre deux jours à l'intérieur des terres », a commencé le vieux soldat en mâchant sur la masse grumelée dans sa bouche une seconde avant de l'enfoncer vers les restes du feu de camp. "Je ne m'attends pas à ce qu'il y ait des ennuis, les bandits ne voudront probablement pas déranger une fête aussi grande et bien armée comme la nôtre, mais gardez les yeux ouverts au cas où."
Pendant qu'il parlait Martin a soigneusement regardé le groupe réuni avant lui. Il y avait un peu de magie dans leurs rangs, d'une forme ou d'une autre, même les contraptions de la naine semblaient être alimentées par le truc, et les miliciens qu'ils avaient amenés de Skyhold semblaient pouvoir tenir une épée de la bonne façon, au moins lors de la deuxième tentative. Tirant son sabre bâtard de son fourreau, Martin le souleva en l'air et regarda autour de la plage pour s'assurer que tout le monde était prêt. Au loin, il pouvait voir le Siren en sortant de la baie, se dirigeant vers la mer de Waking. La coque en bois élégant qui facilite le travail de la marée drainante.
Bon débarras, il a pensé à lui-même avant de balancer son épée vers le bas pour signaler au conducteur de commencer leur voyage. "En avant!" Il a appelé dans sa voix de champ de bataille la plus forte, écoutant un moment avec un sourire tandis que les échos rebondissaient des montagnes lointaines.

Ce fut un bon voyage de deux jours, avec un beau temps et un ciel dégagé, et à part un petit problème avec un voleur qui avait essayé d'attaquer le camp pendant la première nuit, il n'y avait eu aucun problème pour obtenir la fête à l'entrée de Deep Roads Varric leur avait dit de regarder dehors. Martin sourit à la mémoire du voleur comme il l'avait trouvé le lendemain matin, suspendu à l'envers d'un arbre avec toutes ses affaires soigneusement triées et empilées sous lui. L'excellent poignard elvish avait été passé à l'un des miliciens qui s'était récemment marié, un cadeau d'amende pour le nouveau mari. Le reste des babioles avait été ajouté aux coffres de la Compagnie, pour être échangé à la première occasion. Au moins Nighthawk a réussi à s'amuser, Martin a pensé avec un sourire méchant.
Devant la porte en pierre envahie, Martin regarda l'escalier escarpé avec un chaland. Ils n'auraient aucun mal à descendre le wagon dans le tunnel, et d'après ce qu'il avait entendu le chemin devrait être clair et lisse une fois qu'ils étaient dedans, mais faire remonter le wagon dans les escaliers serait un cauchemar, surtout s'ils devaient le faire rapidement ou pendant qu'ils étaient attaqués.

D'un côté à l'autre, ses yeux ne quittent jamais le passage obscurci devant le sien, Martin rappelle par-dessus son épaule : « Je vais avoir besoin de trois volontaires. Quelqu'un doit descendre et s'assurer que la voie à suivre est claire. Un Mage serait utile, au cas où nous aurions besoin d'allumer n'importe quel brasier au feu de voile là-bas."
Fredrick
The Dog of FereldanBasic Information
Species:Elf
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Class Warrior
Appearance:
 
Fredrick is missing his left arm, and has many, MANY scars. He has brown eyes and a very feminine appearance. He is muscular, and short. He stands at five feet.Curriculum Vitae
Specialisations: Berserker, Reaver, Spirit Warrior(used through anger)
Notable Traits:
First Trait: Despite not being a mage, Fredrick has an oddly powerful connection to the Fade. This makes him more of a beacon for demons and spirits than an average person, though no where near the same extent as a mage. Rage demons in particular are attracted to him, for obvious reasons.
Second Trait: Fredrick's left arm was destroyed by a high dragon before. He has thus adapted his two-handed fighting style to use only one arm, and is very, VERY strong in that arm.
Third Trait: Fredrick has learned to form a semi-corporeal arm using his reaver and spirit warrior skills. This arm cannot properly grasp anything, but its amorphic nature allows him to use it as a Swiss army weapon.
Fourth trait Fredrick is VERY pro-freedom, and is always rooting for the underdog. He is also very sensitive if racism, and will willingly stand up to anyone who he feels is being unjust, common sense be damned.
FlawsFirst Flaw: Fredrick is an ANGRY little bugger. He is more or less always bitching about something or someone, and during combat he has to constantly fight against his own anger for control. His rage is a double edged sword in a fight, as, though it powers all of his skills, it also makes him less rational(duh). He can be smart, but rarely will he consider the smart idea when he can just inspire pantshitting terror.
Second Flaw: Fredrick is VERY hard headed. When he gets an idea in his head, he will stand by it, logic be damned.
Third Flaw: Fredrick is really socially awkward. His foot has taken permanent residence in his mouth and will not leave. He has the amazing power to say the dumbest thing possible.
Fourth Flaw HE ONLY HAS ONE FUCKING ARM. IT IS SO HARD TO DO THINGS ONE HANDED. HE NEEDS HELP UNSCREWING JARS. HE HAS ONE ARM.
Seriously though, while his abilities can compensate, he is still missing an arm. Out of combat he has various issues, and in combat he has to rely on a constant assault to keep himself safe, as having only one god damn arm means he can't attack and defend at the same time.
Skills
Growing Fury: A combination of berserk, frenzy and spirit warrior skills. Fredrick's combat rage has multiple stages to it, depending on how wounded he is and his furious he is. His second arm is tied to his rage too, not manifesting until the second stage of his fury.
1st Stage, Berserk: Fredrick's usual combat stage. Frothing at the mouth berserk fury, with no magic added. Fredrick swings Dragonslayer one handed, ripping through his foes.
Notable Skills: Various "two-handed" techniques, notably the very quick and powerful sunder arms and sunder armor, as well as Destroyer. He has a weakened version of frightening appearance, which is less Reaver powers and more being a terrifying berserk elf. He can use Final Blow, which exhausts his remaining energy and leaves him vulnerable.
2nd Stage, Unholy Frenzy: Fredrick rarely reaches this state.Fredrick's strength is further enhanced as he is wounded, and he begins to inspire bladder-failing terror with his warcrys and viscious attacks. He revels in blood, and regenerates if exposed to enemy blood. He can use frightening appearance to its true potential, and actually takes advantage of his terrifying nature to make his foes too scared to fight back. He can actively use Devour in order to heal further. He also forms a limb out of blood and fire in order to attack his foes. He gains use of overwhelm and dread howl while in this state of rage.
Third Stage Rage Demon: Fredrick sinks partially into the fade, gaining potent defensive and offensive benefits. His attacks become significantly faster, and blood becomes gravitating toward him to heal him. His formed arm becomes even more versatile, and he learns to use Fade Burst and Blood Rage. He gains use of Frenzy, Peon's Plight and Massacre, and regenerates health more with each foe killed. This state actively drains him, however, and he has only successfully manifested it for five seconds before. When this form wears off, he is extremely vulnerable.
He also has a Mabari named Mangy. The old wardog is good at harrowing foes and leaving them open to further assault, and is particularly good at taking down mages by overwhelming and murdering them.
Backstory
Biography: Backstory
Biography: Fredrick's family was a slightly wealthy one within the Denerim alienage. They lived relatively decent lives, and were able to bring up their kids with a decent education. Fredrick has an almost idealic life for a while, with a protective, kindly older sister named Nora, a hard working and wise father, and a gentle and loving mother.
He was STILL angry, of course. Fredrick was always short tempered. His reaction to anything was yelling. He was an absolute NIGHTMARE of a child to raise. The only reason he didn't get beat up by the other kids for his constant raging was because of the aforementioned older sister.
That changed when his sister was taken by the Circle. A human had been hitting his elven servant, and Fredrick, smart kid that he is, decided that the best solution was to swing a stick at the man. Considering he was nine at the time, he was slightly unsuccessful, and the man tried to attack him too.
Before the man could lay a hand on him, however, Nora did...something. She had held both of her hands out, and the man stood still. After a moment, he fell to the ground, unconscious.
Though the servant said nothing of her tiny saviors, word still got around. It was a few weeks of stressed waiting, and then Fredrick saw some big armored humans come and take her away. His family later got news of her having been slain while attempting to escape the circle.
Fredrick started getting into fights. A lot of fights. His parents constantly tried to get him to be more careful, but their pleas fell on deaf ears. Fredrick did some good, however. While at first he mostly just fought the other kids, as he grew up he started fighting thugs, bullies. He has actually helped a decent number of people in Denerim. He even helped out a mabari breeder in Amaranthine while visiting family by driving off some thugs that were trying to steal some pups. Fredrick got a pup of his own for his troubles, whom he named Mangy. Mangy helped protect him, especially during the events of Tevinter slavers and other unrest in the alienage. Mangy even saved his life when they were helping protect the alienage.
After the Blight ended, Fredrick decided to take up mercenary work to help fund the reparation of the alienage. He and Mangy set off and joined with a group of mercenaries for a time. They gained quite a reputation as doers of the impossible. They went all over Denerim, and later beyond its borders, doing great deeds. Fredrick's company was called the Dogs of Fereldan, so named for their Chasind leader, and because Mangy became their mascot. The leader took Fredrick under his wing, and taught him to harness his rage more efficiently.
Eventually, they ended up hunting a rogue apostate in Kirkwall.
They tracked the Maleficar to a house in town, fully prepared to confirm who she was and kill her. However, when Fredrick saw her, his heart stopped.
The maleficar was his sister. She told him of how she had escaped and been named dead before her Harrowing. How she had turned to blood magic and unlocked the dalish secrets of the Arcane Warrior, and how she had dedicated herself to finding greater and greater power. How she planned on helping to free the mages.
And that was how Fredrick's mercenary company ended up doing covert operations against the Templars. They mostly smuggled mages away from Tower confines, killing any Templar that came after them. It was dirty work, as most Templars were good people, but Fredrick was willing to do it for his sister, and his mercenary company stood by its own.
Eventually, however, Fredrick found evidence of his sister's doings that he couldn't ignore.
Kidnapped children, men, women, even a few grey wardens. So many innocent people, suspended in glass jars and studied, experimented on.
His sister rationalized it. Freedom, at any costs. She was tired of being a slave, tired of being branded a criminal when all she wanted was freedom. Fredrick felt uneasy, but he allowed it.
One day, his company for a job to collect regeants for the mages. It all went well, till they tried to get Drake scales. They ended up attracting the attention of the Female, a powerful high dragon. It slew most of them, and Fredrick ended up losing his right arm when it tore into him.
After that, his rage boiled over. The details are hazy. He remembers climbing atop the corpses of his friends, piled as they were, and leaping into its snout. He remembers the haze of blood, and the rise and fall of his axe. He remembers a final swing of his great axe, and then rolling over, passing out in a pool of mixed blood.
He awoke in one of his sister's glass jars. She told him that he had been gone for a few days before she found him, and that she had only managed to save him through powerful blood magic. She told him she had found him next to the mangled corpse of a high dragon. It was decapitated, one of its wings had been torn out, and its skull had multiple fractures.
After that, Fredrick's short temper was even worse. For a few days, he had to seal himself off, as EVERYTHING sent him into a mad, raging fury. He worried that he had become an abomination, and his sister refused to tell him one way or the other.
It took months for Fredrick to recover properly, learning to harness his rage as a tool once more. With his company destroyed, Fredrick and Mangy were the last Dogs of Fereldan. During the final battle of the Mage-Templar war, Fredrick felt his rage boil over to a breaking point. He had been fighting a particularly skilled Templar, and had been losing. Every swing of his axe was deflected by the man's shield. His blows seemed to drain Fredrick in an odd way, sapping his strength. He only won that fight when he flew into a rage beyond what he had ever encountered before. Blood flew about him, another weapon to wield. He became an animalistic thing, attacking ferociously, smacking his armored foe about like a pebble. He tore into his foe's armor with an appendage made of blood, and tore out his heart with his teeth. He then turned on...everyone. Friends, allies, enemies, all were the same. When he finally came to, Fredrick was horrified at what he had done. What he had become.
After the final battle of the Mage-Templar war, Fredrick's sister disappeared. He found her journal, left to him by her. She claimed not to want to be followed, that the war wasn't over.
She told him the truth of how he had been saved. That she had taken the blood of all the other surviving Dogs of Fereldan, and that of the dragon, and used them to change him. She hadn't healed his wounds. She had changed him so he could do it himself.
Fredrick sent Mangy home, and wandered about for a time, dissilusioned. He tossed himself into any fights he could find. His parents tried to contact him, but he avoided them. He was no longer their son. He was a monster. He wasn't even angry anymore. Just...tired.
At one point, he passed through Denerim. He had gone months without eating, and was basically a skeleton with axe and armor. He collapsed on the streets, dying.
He woke up in a comfortable bed, the smell of his mother's cooking wafting in. He felt Mangy lying next to him, and could hear his father talking about current events with his mom.
For a moment, he thought he had died. Mangy's stinky breath in his face told him otherwise.
His parents told him how Mangy had suddenly left, and came back dragging his armored form through the alienage.
Fredrick stayed for a while, doing work for the Guard. He stayed, and he healed. He learned of the stories that had been told about him back home, of how he'd become the hero that elves told their children about in Denerim. How the Dog of Fereldan was upheld by the Chasind as one of their legends. How Fereldan took pride in its Dogs, and in their final survivor.
Fredrick found a purpose again. His family knew that the truth was darker than the tales said. They didn't care. As much as he had worried and annoyed and irritated and ignored them, his family still loved him.
He eventually left again, Mangy at his side. He took mercenary work again, with all his loved ones in mind. He would make them proud.
And whether she wanted to be followed or not, he would find Nora, and bring her home.
Personality and/or Motivation: Fredrick is an angry, short tempered and surly individual with a strong moral code. He's far less violent than he used to be, and tries to avoid physical violence whenever he can.
He works out most of his frustration and temper through angry, sassy quips. Amd he never seems to stop talking.
He is EXTREMELY protective of his loved ones. Especially Mangy. You hurt his dog, you die.
Meanwhile, while he has some demons to face, he is actually happy about his life. He believes that there is good in the world, and he feels like it's worth fighting for. While he acts like a pessimist, he is VERY MUCH an optimist.
He loves to bake, secretly.
Player’s long term goals.
A chance to absolute berserk massacre a large group of enemies.
Mangy must piss on a lot of sacred artifacts to mark his territory
Get a chance to embarrass himself in front of an entire royal court.
Get ass kicked by a superior raging warrior.
Win in the rematch through NOT losing control.
Find his sister. Confront her over her actions, and work things out.
Avoid a huge massacre by being REALLY FUCKING SCARY.
Relations:
Fereldan Adoration: Fredrick is well-thought of by his home country, who have received watered down tales of his exploits.
Alienage: Especially Denerim's Alienage, who have received a LOT of money from him. They basically worship him there. Especially since the first act of his mercenary career was helping defend the alienage.
ApostateMages: Many mages, especially in Kirkwall, owe him their lives.
Chantry: For good reason, the Templars KINDA dislike him.
Secrets:
Fredrick keeps the darker side of his exploits under wraps. As far as anyone knows, he is just an angry, one armed hero. No one knows that the hunched beast that killed so many during kirkwall's final battle was him. Very few tales include the second stage of his fury, and no one knows about the third. The official story of him facing the dragon leaves out the part about him being healed with the lifeblood of his allies.
He also tries not to let anyone know that his missing sister is a known and dangerous maleficar.
Quotes:
"Nora, sis, I love you and cherish you, you know this, but WHAT THE SHRIEKING TIT NIPPLE KINGLY SHIT FUCK ARE ALL THOSE TRIPLE DARKSPAWN ORGY FUCKING PEOPLE DOING IN JARS!?"
"Fuck the rain! If I wanted water, I would have gone to a fucking well! Fucking Maker!"
"TEN SILVER!? FOR A FUCKING POULTICE?!? YOU SHITASSED MOTHERFUCKING SHITASS!"
"FUCK THOSE FUCKING FUCKERS!"
(To an arl) "FUCK YOUR COUCH, FUCK YOUR DOG CUZ MINE'S COOLER, FUCK YOUR MOM, YOUR DAD, YOUR UGLY ASS WIFE, YOUR WHOLE FUCKING FAMILY LINE, YOUR WHOLE ARLING, YOUR DUMB ASS SON AND SLUTTY ASS DAUGHTER, AND MOST OF ALL, FUCK YOU!"
"FUCK THAT!"
"FUCK!"
"SHIT!"
"SHIT FUCK!"
"For the love of the damned Maker. If another half assed fucking spider crawls out, I will shit out a rage snake and beat everyone in this cave ha fucking death with it!"
And, most commonly of all,
"Fuck you!"