"The brighter the light; the darker the shadow- and at the centre of that perilous abyss, lies the heart of man."
Male Dalish Elf | 142 - Born 7:89 Storm | Sanguinem Magus
Basic Information:
Place of Origin:The Dales.
Appearance: Don't let Mireth's appearance deceive you, his face may be spotless, his eyes warm and soft, his hair glistening and well groomed, his voice calm and collected. What he appears to say and and the way he says it, the way he looks; all of it - A lie.
To the well trained eye, and especially to those who know who he truly is, they will note the undertone of contempt in his words, they can see the malicious spark in his eyes and the murderous intent behind his kind smile.
Humans, are ever so easy to deceive with a pretty picture, but beauty is quite possibly the most deadliest thing about him his very body; a lure for the unsuspecting fish.
He is sleek and slender in build, as most elves are - his frame light and fragile, but fast and mobile, he also stands at roughly 5'2, average height for most elves, if not slightly smaller.
One must remember though, all of it is fleeting as the wind when the curtains fall, and reveal his true nature behind the painted glass.
What is perhaps most notable about this elf, is the lack of the 'Vallaslin', or blood writing upon his face, there is a reason for this but it is one that he has never shared with anyone, nor will he.
Background:
It's arguable, but there is a point in life when one can say it truly started, some would say on day conception, others the day you were born, and then - maybe some time down the line, when you hit a pivotal moment and your life
truly begins.
For Mireth'Ren, the latter is very much the case.
His early years are what to be expected of an average Dalish elf that was found with magical affinity, it went a couple of ways, one - sent to another clan if an apprentice to the current keeper already existed, two sent away to the circles lest they be hunted down by Templars and finally, the best option out of the three, and ultimately, the one Mireth fell into was that they became the apprentice to the Keeper of the clan.
The way in how this came about wasn't exactly pretty, but it had nothing to do with Mireth - for the time being, his young self was far from the thing he became, when his life truly started.
The Dales is a peaceful and vibrant area of land, and whilst no form of war is being waged upon its ancient soils its a place that one can have a long peaceful life, bandits and marauding bands of nomads weren't overly common, but it was frequent enough to warrant caution when you were alone, a defensible position was always needed lest some opportunistic Shems try their luck against the Dalish camp, not unheard of given the way elves were treated in Orlais, or rather how Elves were treated in general.
During his time as apprentice to the keeper Mireth spent a great deal of time exploring the ancient elven ruins, as well the burial sites that littered the plains, it was once apart of the Elven homeland, it made sense that it would be brimming with lore and secrets that only real Dalish elves knew how to discover.
He specifically became infatuated with their pantheon, and out of all of them, the dread wolf - Fen'Harel, how one being, God or not - trick all the others into being banished for eternity, was beyond him - he needed to understand, he wanted to know just what could be able to trick the gods themselves into oblivion - or more correctly, somewhere beyond the fade.
His ‘obsession’ as it was labelled by others, was not exactly regarded in the fondest of lights, the elves would never deter their brothers and sisters from exploring the secrets and lore of the Elvhen, but being so fanatically determined to learn more about the Dread wolf was looked at skeptically.
His research and expeditions far afield, even at a young age yielded knowledge to him, most of which he shared to the clan - although some, he did not.
This was the start, from another pair of eyes, at which Mireth began to change, it was slow and gradual, not perceivable at first; in fact it was not perceivable for a very long time only when one looks back can they note the beginning of what became.
Mireth’s passage into adulthood was met with the standard procedure of receiving the Vallasin, and he succeeded in passing the ritual in silence, despite the pain; hardly uncommon but noteworthy amongst his peers - a small redeeming factor given his infatuation with the dread wolf.
Mireth must have been half way through his apprenticeship learning from the keeper, so at the fairly young age of 45 when an event, that is what is regarded when his life truly began occured.
Since they had made their home in the dales for quite a long time - years to be precise, the locals were getting the idea that the ‘knife ears’ had found a piece of land to call their own, not that such a thought or act would ever be permitted, the war with the Qunari was over and the people in local area were looking for some new fight to pick.
These homey elves, were a very nice target, not that success was something they could call the events that transpired the end resulted in the dalish encampment being almost completely destroyed and almost every elf killed, but the numbers lost for the humans was far greater - sieging a well protected encampment, filled with experienced and well trained warriors and a powerful mage was bordering suicide, but through sheer numbers, and a band of chevaliers they prevailed, a victory in the eyes of the Orlesians, but no doubt something that history books would neglect to ever mention.
Not that any historian could have possibly anticipated what one of the survivors would become - a threat to the human world is truly an understatement, during the fight, a haunting image of an elven mage using blood magic was burnt into the surviving shems minds, only to be one day killed by the very elf that they thought to be finally dead.
His quest for vengeance was not pretty, every time he found one of the culprits, via knowledge sold by the carta and disgruntled nobles whom would benefit from the lack of a certain nobles son, then he would murder them bloodily, using blood magic to boil them from the inside out, he would kill their family members in front of their eyes, just like they had done to him - he’d summon demons to play with the wives of the men, before rending their flesh from their bodies.
Mireth spent countless hours, and sleepless nights devising new and ingenious ways to make his enemies suffer.
His mind has never deviated from this since, in his eyes all humans are the same monsters, their hearts blacker than the taint of the darkspawn.
Because a great deal of lives were claimed by him over the space of 10 years in his quest for vengeance Mireth quickly left the Orlaisen lands, spending a great deal of his time exploring the Emerald Graves instead, he spent a great deal of his time here, collecting lore and practising his magic, of course this meant that some unfortunate souls who stumbled across him were lost forever.
His transition from Orlais to Ferelden wasn’t easy, two completely separate cultures and different people altogether, Mireth had done this after the war that had Ferelden under the boot of the empire, so travelling to and fro was considerably easier than it had previously been.
To be perfectly honest, so long as he didn’t mention that he was from Orlais, which he never truly regarded himself to be from as it was, then he didn’t receive that much scorn, or at least not as much as he was suspecting.
Personality
Mireth’Ren has two personalities, some would say, but in reality it’s only one, that simply takes a drastic turn when the curtain falls.
When “on stage” Mireth is kind, courteous, upstanding, honourable and almost cheerful, if not slightly stoic.
When “off stage” or when someone interrupts his performance, then his true nature shows, sadistic, violent, dishonourable and strives to achieve his kill - killing for this elf, is an art and he strives to perfect that art.
They’re exceptions to this mostly general rule, however, Mireth is generally openly hostile and rude to humans, or shems as he will always call them, sometimes he begrudgingly accepts that some of them are worthy of respect, but one must go to terrible lengths to earn that compliment - otherwise he will chide them, tell them to leave him be, or to go fornicate with an iron rod, wardens do earn some leniency from him, assuming they don’t refer to elves in derogatory terms and look down upon them.
Elves, assuming they are Dalish earn his immediate respect, and will talk to them kindly and offer his help as oft as he can, city elves, however don’t get this, they must earn it - he cannot blame them for their parents decisions; a slight note of hypocrisy here, however he will not outright bestow upon them his respect.
It’s fair to say that he has few friends, but that has never bothered him - do note however, if you can look past all of his flaws that eventually he will come to like you if you persevere long enough through the torrents of wrongs and hate you may be receive - he is steadfast and loyal to the end to those he cares about.
He will sacrifice almost everything to save you, but the price for this; is steep.
Capabilities:
Skills: Knows how to perform the ritual and act of “Vallasin”, has impeccable fletching skills, he can work a piece of wood into many constructs, but of course, arrows, staves, shields are the most prominent out of these.
Has extensive knowledge in general survivability skills, he knows how to hunt, prepare meat, forage, make fires (without magic - that be cheating), fish, trap, track and a liturgy of other things that have been taught to him by his clans hunters.
Also has a fairly extensive knowledge in Herablism.
Spells: Mireth has a proficiency in lightning based magic, as well as hexs and blood magic.
His main aim is to debilitate the enemy, to wound and hound them, weakening them so he can deal with them in a more personal manner once they are unable to fight.
However, when faced with large groups of enemies he switches to magic that can kill quickly and deal damage in large areas, with is mainly Hemorrhage or some fire based magic.
Inventory:
Cash:12 sovereigns and a small pouch of change.
Clothing and Armor: Mireth wears an ancient keepers robe, it is notable aged yet despite this the stitching and intricate patterns that adorn it remain almost perfect as the day they were first crafted, he doesn’t wear shoes and travels the land barefoot, although he is no fool, he keeps a permanent mini barrier around the soles of his feet protecting them from the elements.
The robe is magically imbueded and grants the wearer significant nature resistance and willpower.
Weapon
A handcrafted stave, made from ironbark, it is unique in that it has an unusual staff blade at the bottom, the wood and the blade are fused together as if it were originally part of the wood that was used in the crafting, this is to increase the ease of blood magic, and close range offensive combat, the staff end is a large blue crystal, jagged and altogether ominous in its appearance
Fear this staff, it has claimed the lives of many an unsuspecting foe.
Potions and Arcane Supplies: Various healing and lyrium potions, also carries a few grenades procured from a wandering alchemist, they unleash waths of furling fire upon those caught in its blast radius, used in emergencies only.
Jewelry and Novelty Items: A small band from his keeper’s body, purely sentimental, otherwise nothing of note.
Books and Documents: Various documents on elvhen lore, as well as numerous sketchings of Fen’harel and elven runes.
And a journal, that contains a large list of names that have crossed out in what appears to be red ink.
Food, Drinks, Provisions: A few portions of dried and salted meat - Mireth doesn’t eat much and can go exceptional lengths of time with out food.
A carton for water.
Bags, Pouches, Packs: Various pouches containing things like salt, herbs, lyrium dust, and other various useable items, mostly for cooking or in the use of crafting potions.
Other:Quill - Carving knife, fletching knife, a silver ceremonial knife - all three are in their own scabbards tied around his thigh.