Post by Avery Mondivarius on Oct 18, 2014 2:58:22 GMT -5
[attr="class","main"] [attr="class","imgdiv"] [attr="class","name"]Avery Mondivarius [attr="class","race"]Orlesian, Human
[attr="class","infoh"]Physical Attributes
[attr="class","infoc"] From the back and far away, Avery would look like any other six foot two, one hundred and ninety five pound man armed to the teeth--damn intimidating. If he turns around and is close enough for anyone to get a good look, the first thing that anybody with any power of observation would notice would be his tattoos. Intricate, tribal, and covering all parts of his body, including his face, the jet black of his gang symbols stands out in exquisite contrast from his bistre skin. To anyone over thirty with a Val Royeaux upbringing, the tattoos are not only striking, but dangerously familiar. With most of the focus on his tattoos, the numerous scars that dot his hide can be easy to overlook. Though everything else pales next to his tattoos and stature, Avery is still an unusual specimen, unlikely to be confused for anyone else. He has a thick nest of unruly black hair, usually slicked back by grease or sweat, which makes his beard all the stranger. Standing off of his face is the 'petit goatee', tightly cropped and kept in a short, triangular shape. While his hair may go days without seeing a comb, his face is shaved at the start of every morning, right on time. Adding to the final piece of his outward aura is his voice, which is low, gravelly and authoritative, with a strange accent. Linguists might recognize it to be a blend of low Val Royeaux and Rivaini, but anybody without training would consider it a more guttural, round Orlesian, with long and deep vowel sounds. [attr="class","infoh"]Personality
[attr="class","infoc"] Avery's personality is one that many would expect from a ganger turned Commander of the Grey. He is hard, pragmatic and amoral, and is practically the living embodiment of the 'Grey' part of the Wardens. He does not brook error or hesitation from those that serve under him, and always believes that the ends justify the means. If a dozen civilians have to be offered up as bait so that a hundred will live, he will serve those dozen on a platter. He won't be happy about it, but he won't dwell on it in remorse. There is no room in his job for remorse, and second-guessing can get you killed. The depths of his alleged depravity are known by some of the institutions that have had the misfortune of crossing paths with him. Maleficar have been plucked from the Templars and saved a quick execution so that their dark magic could be used instead for the Grey Wardens. Murderers and rebels have been snatched from the towns guards before their untimely demise. Even a man known as 'the Butcher' has come to call the Grey Wardens family under the leadership of Avery. No one is to be wasted--if a madman is skilled, and can be leashed, he will be used. Avery is in no position to turn away talent. Perhaps the only conviction that he holds is his contempt for corruption, especially amongst the nobility and the politicians, whom he despises. It is no wonder that he is the quickest to recruit thieves and robin-hood types who take advantage of the affluent. And also no wonder that he may indulge in a little opportune thievery of his own whenever the fancy strikes him. All in all, he is incredibly irreverent, and respects no authority other than his own. His respect is hard-won by anyone, and must be merited through competence, smarts, and a hard-edge. As such, he does not respond particularly well to monarchs, although he knows better than to indulge in the thievery he might indulge in with a noble. Despite his hard edge and ruthless personality, Avery is above all else loyal. Loyal to his family, both his biological one and the Wardens that he is in charge of. Though a Warden's life is about sacrifice, Avery does his damnedest to ensure that none of his charges die. Even if that sometimes means letting a civilian or two die instead. Provided that no one betrays his trust or the trust of the wardens, Avery is a lifelong friend and mentor, who will have your back until the end. Even if he'll make sardonic and sarcastic little digs and call out your stupidity every step of the way. [attr="class","infoh"]Background [attr="class","infoc"] Avery was the result of a possibly sordid affair. His father, Terence Mondivarius, thirty years of age, was a supposed landed noble of Tevinter and a scholar in theology, sent to Val Royeaux to study the Divine and the 'proper' Andrastean Chantry. Like many men, Terence was taken with Felicia's loveliness and generally witty behavior--it did not matter that she was fourteen years his junior. And like many women, Felicia found Terence to be forbidden, exotic, and was tempted by his supposed station. She never bothered to check whether or not he was actually nobility. After a year of infrequent visits and passionate nights, Felicia soon found herself with child. When she told Terence of it, his visits became more infrequent still, yet he swore that she was his 'jewel' and the 'loveliest woman in Val Royeaux' and would gift her trinkets whenever he fancied it. With Terence absent the entire season of her child's expected delivery date, Felicia was on her own. Avery was born in a dingy little back alley in the slums of Val Royeaux. With no real resources to her name, her midwives were her neighbors and friends, those who had delivered children of their own and knew what to expect. Avery was born healthy and was doted upon by his mother, even if her affection for Terence overshadowed her son, and her general judgment. For the next eight years, Terence would come into Val Royeaux and stay for a month or a season. He would come with a gift and leave Felicia with yet another child, until she had five by him. After the eighth year, the visits stopped entirely. For a long time, Felicia clung to the hope that her paramour would return. When years passed without a sign, she became more convinced that some ill-will had befallen him. Avery barely had a chance to get to know his father, between his short visits and his tendency to spend all of his time alone with his mother, so naturally no attachment was formed. He knew who his father allegedly was, but the man was a stranger to him, and though for a time he wished for his father to stay in town, like all of the other fathers did, he quickly outgrew it. With his mother only being an apprentice seamstress, and his father's visits being infrequent (and his trinkets being relatively small), Avery's childhood did not afford him many luxuries, including speculation. Instead Avery was rather swiftly put to good use. As the expense of five children piled up, Felicia took Avery into the shop and had him assist with her work. While this helped her complete her tasks more quickly and rewarded her more coin, it was not sufficient. And though Avery could help rear his siblings (as he was nearly three years older than the child after him), Felicia was becoming overwhelmed. For a prospectless child reared in the Val Royeaux slums, family was the only thing that Avery had. Especially as a Rivaini immigrant with Tevinter ties. With no connections and no education, Avery turned to the one thing he could to ease his siblings' hunger pangs: theft. At first the thefts started out small. At only eight years of age, he couldn't muster the courage to do more than steal some food from the bazaar. His mother was sharp enough to be suspicious of the extra food, but was overwhelmed enough not to ask. In Avery's mind, this was silent affirmation. As his siblings grew, the need for food became very pressing, and so did the need for clothing. One small act birthed another. Stealing items from stands at the marketplace became pick-pocketing strangers, which in turn became setting up cons. Avery soon became one of the many urchins of Val Royeaux, hustling anybody with a weakness for a young face. At twelve, puberty hit, and Avery was no longer small enough to be cute. The cons stopped working, and it wasn't as easy to avoid detection. Yet again, compromises came in gradual shades. Cutting purses and picking pockets gave way for full armed robbery of anyone that looked like an easy target. The moxy got him noticed by one of the local youth gangs, that brought him into the fold. Avery became one of the many Val Royeaux Kestrels, a gang of twelves to early twenties. The Kestrels were infamous for their brutality, and their shameless use of children to lure the unsuspecting into a trap. Already waist-deep into crime, Avery proved to be a talented recruit, with great potential. For years, Avery stayed with the Kestrels, stealing from market stands, purses, and even storming shops and looting the belongings contained therein. But the wave of crime didn't stop with theft and muggings; the Kestrels were expansionistic, territorial, and aggressive. Any rival gang, or any urchin operating without giving them a cut was seen to. Avery quickly became used to gang on gang violence, and viewed drastic actions as natural. He was providing for his family, and he was defending his other family. Soon crippling other people became second nature, as did torching properties. At fifteen, Avery was given the opportunity to join the upper echelons of the Kestrels. The task to prove himself was simple. Kill one of the guards that had beaten one of the other Kestrels. At first, Avery was nervous, not because of the idea of murder, but because of the repercussions of murdering a guard. Nonetheless, he took the bow and quiver he was given and stalked the route that the guard was supposed to be following, all the while remaining perched on the rooftops. The first shot missed--Avery had only briefly trained with the bow in earlier exercises. When the arrow bounced off the brick alongside the guard, he twisted around and yelped in surprise. Avery had been aiming for his back with the second arrow, but when he twisted, the arrow found the guard's face instead. He watched for a moment as the man died, and then hearing something further down the alley, bolted and returned to the Kestrels. His promotion within the gang earned him a tattoo, one that would become the first of many. Over the next several years of his life, Avery continued to climb the ranks, until at age twenty, he had made his way to the very top. His mother and his siblings wanted for nothing, and though his mother tried to broach the subject with him a few times, he managed to avoid it. Partly out of general evasiveness, and partly because Felicia felt she was better off not truly knowing. Despite all of his successes within the Kestrels, Avery never once brought his other siblings over to the gang. Instead he used his wealth as the head of the gang to finance basic schooling for his younger siblings, and typically steered them toward the right side of things, even as he ruthlessly maneuvered against his enemies. By day he was a supportive son, by night he was a cold killer with a score of notches on his belt. The Kestrels had worked their way to one of Val Royeaux's biggest priorities. The wealth was barely worth it when the Divine flexed her muscle. The guard, which was bribed to turn the other way in most cases, took notice, and an all out campaign against the Kestrels began. As good as the Kestrels were, they were no match for former soldiers and the backing of the Chantry. In the matter of a few months, the Kestrels were reduced to a fifth of their forces, with the older members being slain and the younger members taken away entirely. The time finally came for Avery. Though the Kestrels relocated their main base only recently, an inside source tipped off the guards, and the hideout was surrounded. Though the firefight lasted for an hour and brought more than a few guard casualties, the compound was stormed. Avery killed the first two guards that touched his comrades, but then took an arrow to his thigh, and another to his side. Waxing on the edge of unconsciousness, Avery was taken captive. His execution was supposed to be executed very next day, but the Grey Wardens intervened. Warden Commander Bouchard plucked Avery from his sentence using the Rite of Conscription. The Val Royeaux guard was furious, but an order came from higher up to silence the dissent. To appease the public, the guard announced that Avery was executed anyway, although Avery didn't find that out for some time after. At first, Avery was surprised to find himself recruited by a group of honored heroes. But his company consisted of just as many criminals as it did upstanding citizens and former soldiers. The criminals weren't the company that he initially thought they would be, either. While some still indulged in the occasional vice and still had a sense of humor about them, most had commit themselves wholeheartedly to the Wardens. The strong sense of community was even greater than that the Kestrels had. But after the Joining ritual, it made a certain amount of sense. Many died before they ever reached the Wardens, and many more still died for the people they were supposed to protect. There would be no songs about the Wardens, not unless a Blight rolled around. Their sacrifice would go in vain to any other than their brothers. Despite this, Avery hated the Wardens for a time. He hated the duty and the sacrifice, and despised the fact that he was barely allowed to converse with his family. Living life mostly on the straight and narrow didn't help matters, and he wasn't huge on the idea of treks through the wilderness into deep caverns to fight things whose simple presence could kill him. And though Avery was a more talented recruit than many, his training in a city, against humans wasn't nearly as effective against darkspawn, especially orcs, broodmothers and emissaries. The first year resulted in more injuries than Avery was used to. He had to learn how to fight militarily and work as a unit in a small space rather than employ guerilla style city tactics. Eventually, through trial and error, and a lot of experience, Avery became good against the darkspawn. He still wasn't a fan of the Wardens, but it definitely beat hanging in the gallows. It didn't hurt that he eventually got some salary to send back home to his family. His opinion of the Wardens changed when a recruitment drive took them back to Val Royeaux. Though technically dead, many recognized the iconic Kestrel leader, including the guards. Being able to stare the guards down, grin and rub their face in it was a terrific thrill for the twenty-two year old, who was used to bribing guards, running from them or training others how to best deal with them. There was a smug sort of satisfaction that came with returning to his old stomping ground and getting off scot-free. It was even better when the Wardens went to recruit Shaun Cobb, a former Kestrel, amongst others. The Marcher immigrant was a sight for sore eyes. Thankfully he passed the Joining, and the old friend gave Avery a sense of camaraderie he'd been missing. The next several years went by with relative ease. Avery and Shaun were thick as thieves and always had each other's back. The two operated particularly well together and were frequently sent on assignments as a pair. Their general skill had both advance through the ranks at Warden at a decent, although not extreme clip. By twenty eight, both of them qualified as 'Senior Wardens'. A title that the two shared over some serious drinks and a celebratory Orc killing in the deep roads. Though many friends around the pair died, or went on to their Calling, the two kept good spirits. Besides, it wasn't as though they were entirely unused to death of comrades. At thirty-one years of age, Avery had reached Warden Constable, and was being groomed to inherit the Warden-Commander title. Though younger than some, he was considered a natural choice. Not because he was considerably more talented than others (because others certainly matched if not surpassed him), but because of his gift with tactics and his familiarity with leading. As such, he was tasked with leading a large mission into the Deep Roads to prove his worth. Shaun Cobb was not permitted to go, and was sent on a different mission. Fortunately, Avery proved his worth well and left the Deep Roads a week and a half later with the mission a success, with no casualties but several injuries. Shaun's mission was equally successful, with only one casualty: Shaun. Though the objective was fulfilled, Shaun was caught unawares and was ambushed by a score of darkspawn. When the other Wardens found him, they found he was not alone. He'd single handedly managed to fell the group of darkspawn, even taking an emissary with him in his final moments. Experiencing Shaun's death was a unique thing for Avery. He'd lost many loved ones over the years, and had comrades come and go in both of his professions. He was used to death, and knew it came with the job. But Shaun was his oldest and closest friend, and his death hit the closest to home. When Avery was confirmed as the next Warden Commander, he didn't meet the news with satisfaction or triumph. When Avery was thirty three, the fifty-seven year old Bouchard went on to his Calling, leaving the Orlesian chapter of the Wardens in Avery's hands. Since then he has headed the Warden's with a greater degree of pragmatism. The Wardens only fight the darkspawn: any outside charitable works are paid works, earning the Wardens a reputation as mercenaries in addition to everything else. The idea of sacrifice is also somewhat skewed. Although he will send men to their untimely demise, he will only do it in the most dire of circumstances. He isn't likely to have him men die for the life of a civilian, or even a handful of civilians. Despite these things contributing to the Wardens' overall reputation, he's been a successful Warden Commander, and has met the darkspawn head on wherever they appear. |