Garnait Arroway

A jaded and rugged rogue from the mountains.

Description:

Garnait Arroway
Avvarian Hillsman, Rogue
30 years old, Male

Communication +3
Constitution +2
Cunning +1
Dexterity +4
Magic +1
Perception +3
Strength +2
Willpower +2

Speed: 14
Health: 32/32
Defense: 16
Armor Rating: 4

Talents:
Novice in Theivery

Focuses:
Communication (Gambling)
Communication (Animal handling)

Heavy leather armour
Medium shield
Morningstar
Longbow
Arrows (20)
Waterskin
Traveler’s garb
Money:
17 sp

Attacks______Damage____Bonus____Range
Morning Star__1D6+7______+4_______N/A
Long Bow_____1D6+7______+4_______32 yards

Languages:
Can speak/read trade tongue

Bio:
Garnait was raised by a humble, if destitute, family. His father, a hunter, brought home what was needed to survive, nothing more. His mother, brought in what she could as a milk maid. Though tough, Garnait never knew desperation until his younger brother, Gerald, was born. His birth led into one of the worst winters the Avvarian ever faced. Game was harder to catch and Garnait’s mother fell deathly ill. His father, out of necessity, joined a Fereldian raid party. First day out, he didn’t return. Garnait never forgave his father, he felt betrayed, and now he was left to support his family alone. He was 12. Garnait began picking up money where ever he could; even if that meant people’s pockets. His mother didn’t survive the winter, Garnait too blamed this on his father. His rage would’ve been the undoing of himself and his brother had it not been for Adolamin Fiedlerson, a fierce warrior from the village that caught him pick-pocketing. He took Garnait’s rage, and aimed it at the cause of his father’s death, the Fereldians. Adolamin taught Garnait how to fight and brought him on raids. He demonstrated that he had his father’s perception for hunting and the swift unthinking hand in taking another’s life. The bounty was good, and the job was exciting at worst, but he grew ashamed of the innocent blood that soaked his hands and the money it brought him. After a night’s work, he’d often look to the skies and wonder, is this all that life is? Is this all that I am? He never once told Gerald what he did, only that he hunted. Wether or not Gerald knew the truth, that’s all that Garnait told him up until the day he left. At 25, he left Gerald his small fortune from the raids, and ventured off into the world. He didn’t know where he was going, or how long it would take to get there, but he was sure destiny would lead the way.

Of the many paths that lay before Garnait, an easy journey was not one of them. Each twisting off into the unknown, ever the more obscure. The path he choose led him to become a man for hire, a sword for coin. Sometimes he was paid to spy, sometimes to steal, sometimes to guard. He kept his ears to the ground, never stayed in one place for too long, and never gave out his real name. One fateful day, an old mage approached Garnait. The mage needed a guide through the forest. Though they gave out little information, the package they carried, he said, was of the utmost importance to there order. Was it not for the large sum of money he was offering, Garnait would have refused. He had heard of trouble stirring about the mages, but he accepted.

It was fairly quite for the most part, a few passer-bys, but besides that, the group of hooded men followed Garnait silently. It wasn’t until they reached the way-point when an arrow was shot from the bushes and ended the life of the old mage who had hired Garnait. An ambush! Spells began to fire immediately afterward as the small group of mages tried to defend themselves from both sides of the path. Men charged at Garnait, swords swinging. Garnait recognized the garb they wore; Templars! Garnait dodged what he could but for every man he took down, two more were there to take his place. Wound after wound was inflicted upon him, by this time most of the mages were done for, and soon he would be too, was it not for a traveling gang of rather darkly clad mages led by a young man with pure white hair. They ferociously attacked the remanding Templars, over powering them until the lesser men turn tailed and ran, but even then only the fastest could out run the death that followed them. With the Templars finished, Garnait thanked the leader of the gang, who went by the name of Askell. In his eyes Garnait saw the honesty and pride Askell held for his craft, but he also saw the dark things Askell had witnessed, and most strikingly of all, the same air of uncertainty that had propelled Garnait on this journey to begin with. “My name is Garnait” It felt good to say that. For so long, he had been known as someone else, trapped behind a false name. They tended to his wounds, and as soon as he had the strength to stand, Garnait departed, but not before exclaiming with a smirk that he’d had enough of mages for one day. The package that the mages carried was never recovered.

Life was back to the way it was, doing jobs when hired, but this time, Garnait paid special attention to anything involving the Templars. On his free time, he’d often prowl the streets and alleyways close to the Templars, listen to conversations, make sense of it all. He struck pay-dirt not in not too long, the Templar’s were looking for an agent to spy in the underworld for them, no doubt part of there plan to stretch their arm of influence even further. Garnait started rumours, under an alleged name, that he was looking for work and it didn’t take long for the Templars to come knocking on his temporary apartment at the thieves guild. They led him past the gallows where several men were being hanged. When Garnait inquired, all the guard told him was that they were “from a gang”. For some reason that struck a chill in him, Garnait would soon know why. Garnait was told to wait in the reception area of the dungeon, the guard explained that they were short handed because of the hanging being publicized, then left to attend some small matters. The cold still air of the dungeon would be near silent was it not for the quiet roaring of the crowd far in the distance, and the soft sobbing of a boy. Garnait investigated this sound only to gasp at what he saw. Askell! He was in a cell with the boy, staring intently at the Templars that guarded him. The realization that those men being hanged were in-fact those that saved his life not too long ago stirred him into action. Infiltrating the Templar’s organization would have to wait. He slunk behind the guards and with deadly precision sliced through their amour’s weak points and straight to their vitals. Dead before they hit the ground. He couldn’t help but smirk at the look of astonishment on Askell’s-and the boy’s- face. As Garnait grabed the keys from the bodies and began unlocking the cell door, the boy cried “We’re free, I can’t believe it!” “I was in the neighborhood,” replied Garnait, a cheeky grin on his face, “Now let’s get some where safe.” Askell and Garnait made sure the boy was returned to his family, and then they each started on a new path to their own destinies. A path that they chose to walk together, after all, misery enjoys company, right?

Garnait Arroway

The Rise of Ferelden Rai_Akaimi