NATIVE APPLICATION

Name: Anna
Age: 29
Contact: jehansmuse@gmail.com, layonmacduff on Plurk
Other Characters: None
Interests: I just really love Dragon Age and have been dying to RP in the setting for ages. I like the idea of political intrigue and Thedosian international diplomacy.


Name: Simon Ashlock
Canon/OC: OC, adapted from a Warcraft player character.
Journal: paladingus
Race: Human
Nationality: Free Marcher
Occupation: Templar
Mage or Non-Mage: Non-mage
Age: 30

History

Original-canon history here.

AU-history Simon was born in Starkhaven, the most devoutly religious member of his family in a small fishing town already known for its puritanism. He couldn't very well aspire to priesthood, but he could serve the Chantry as a templar, and determined to do so as soon as his parents--humble blacksmiths--could scrape together the money for equipment and training. As a young recruit assigned to the Kirkwall Gallows, Simon's religious fervor bordered on zealotry, at times even crossing the line. He never hesitated to volunteer when it came time to supervise a Harrowing or track down a runaway, and though he held himself back from unprovoked brutality, he was merciless.

He saw it as a matter of pride and duty, first and foremost--wasn't the most sacred role of a templar to protect those innocents who couldn't protect themselves? The power vested in the templar order was meant to be used for that purpose and that only, as he thought, but all too quickly, he came to realize that others felt differently. The Gallows were infamous for their cruelty, but before his assignment there, he had always dismissed the rumors as bleeding-heart scaremongering. Seeing firsthand the abuses of power--the demands made of the mages, the casual use of the Rite of Tranquility to cover up templar crimes--broke him harshly of that fiery idealism. Still, the gap between disapproving of his fellow templars' actions and willingly standing up for the abused mages proved too great to leap, and rather than advocate reform, he requested to be transferred to a more lenient Circle instead.

In Ansburg, he found it easier to turn over something of a new leaf. While he was still a reliable go-to for overseeing Harrowings, steadfastly willing to step in and do what might be necessary where other templars might shy away, his runaway-tracking skills fell into disuse, and he found himself instead being asked more and more often to go and retrieve small children whose magic had newly manifested. He came to enjoy the task, and gradually to lighten up still further in his conviction that mages were not to be trusted--until the Kirkwall Chantry exploded.

If only Simon had his way, the Ansburg templars would have taken their cues from Hossberg and Hasmal and stayed right where they were, to keep order and tighten the reins as restrictively as necessary to make damned sure the mages didn't get any ideas into their heads about joining the lawless rioting and slaughter. As it stood, however, Simon did not get one bit of his way, because those in favor of staying were sorely outnumbered, and they proved no match for mages determined to rebel. Appalled by what he saw as the cowardice of his brethren, he left the now-empty tower and struck out on his own, only to be even more appalled by the wartime conduct of mages and templars alike. The Inquisition seemed like a last beacon of civilization in a land consumed by barbarism, and it was there that he resolved to travel and make himself useful again.

Personality

Like most templars, Simon has a deep and unshakable belief in the Maker and his love for humankind (and elvenkind, and probably dwarvenkind, and maybe qunarikind, but he'll have to get back to you on that.) He's not prone to questioning the existence of Andraste or the Maker, or even whether the Chant is true or merely allegorical. This is not, however, to say that he isn't plagued by worse doubt than most--it's merely turned inward, at his own worthiness. His fellow templar trainees as a child were a very literally holier-than-thou bunch, and Simon was always uncertain of his ability to maintain the standards of self-discipline the order demanded. Vows of celibacy to demonstrate extra dedication to Andraste were in vogue with his particular group, and Simon couldn't quite bring himself to swear to that, though he took no issue with the broader expectation of never marrying or fathering children. That, he could do with a good will, but no more. Though he doesn't quite have the self-awareness to realize it, his youthful zealotry was at least in part a desperate attempt to prove to himself that he could be worthy of serving the Chantry even without the self-imposed handicap of extra vows, or the ability to ration his own lyrium intake as some others could.

Leaving Starkhaven did good things for his self-esteem in that regard, but Simon never quite developed the strong loyalty he was supposed to feel towards his fellow knights, or indeed to anyone but the Maker and his Bride. He always feels as though he's missing some quality that others effortlessly possess, and he both admires and resents people for it. He doesn't easily develop attachments, partly because his insecurities can make him a little standoffish, but mostly because he feels anxious and smothered by the idea of staying in one place for too long, and has done his best within the constraints of his templar vows to keep from having to do that. His wanderlust and fear of intimacy have left him isolated and prevented him from rising through the ranks of the order as he might otherwise have been able to do, and while he wants to change that part of himself, he's at a loss for how to do so.

He has a strong sense of justice, which drives his moral compass more than anything else. He isn't one for wanton cruelty or unprovoked aggression--only retribution for wrongdoing, and he tends to believe that ends justify means and the few should sacrifice for the good of the many. He isn't hardhearted, though, and can be reasoned with (even more than he wants to admit he can.) He doesn't want to be the same person he was back in the Gallows.

Opinions & Affiliations

The Chantry: Believes that the worship of the Maker is the only true religion and that the Chantry has an appropriate level of power--could afford to have a little more, even, just as long as the bad apples are discreetly weeded out.

The Qun: Creepy, barbaric, not to be trusted, but he will concede that he should learn more about it before running his mouth off too much.

The Mage/Templar War: Conflicted, because while he opposes the mage rebellion strongly and thinks they need to be brought back in line, he's disgusted with the way so many of his fellow templars have conducted themselves. If pressed, he'll reluctantly admit that the Circle system can't just be slapped back into place exactly as it was, even if it does need to be reinstated in some form.

Race Relations: He's a well-meaning sort who would never dream of calling anyone a knife-ear or anything, but ignorance sometimes gets the better of him. He's much more open to being corrected about accidental elf microaggressions than he is about his anti-mage sentiment, though.

Templars: At present, he's embarrassed about the state of things, having hoped his people would have been beyond reproach in their behavior when the war began. He is, however, secretly and guiltily a little pleased that he now looks like one of the better ones. He doesn't have a really strong sense of brotherhood or belonging when it comes to the organization, and hasn't for years--his devotion is to Andraste and the Maker first, the Chantry second, and the templars as an order are somewhere further down that list.

Marchers: Simon is not terribly patriotic, mostly because he spent too much of his youth traveling among the city-states to have a really strong affiliation with any one in particular, as a Marcher is supposed to. He supposes he's loyal enough to his native Starkhaven, in that he'll defend it if he hears anyone disparage it.

Adaptation

It seemed to me that translating a paladin to a templar would be the obvious choice, though I am interested in exploring how the nature of Simon's character and faith would be changed when adapted to a universe where deities don't respond tangibly when called upon. Self-consciousness and doubt about his worthiness to be part of a religious order are intrinsic parts of his character, and the fact that his prayers would never be answered directly the way they are on Azeroth would give him plenty of room for that kind of doubt. Many of the reasons he chose to become a paladin in his original setting--devout belief, the desire to be seen as a pure and moral hero--apply just as strongly to the reasons why the AU version of him would have chosen to become a templar, particularly if he was raised in an area where the Chantry rules more strongly. In his original incarnation, Simon's especial animosity towards the undead comes from the same root as his templar version's mistrust of mages, and could be played similarly. He will always be a proponent of the Circle system, just as his original version will always believe the Forsaken of Azeroth should not exist. It was, however, something of a challenge to find a way to adapt the turning point in his original history that was his attempt to join the Scarlet Crusade, but it was important to me to keep it, because it felt thematically appropriate and necessary to have that transition from blind zeal to tolerance-within-limits.

Strengths & Weaknesses

Strengths

--Templar training, with over a decade of experience in multiple different Circles
--Related to this, significant combat skill with a two-handed sword
--Desire to preserve peace and mediate conflict

Weaknesses

--Addiction to lyrium
--Potentially controversial politics
--Commitmentphobia

Inventory

Standard-issue greatsword and templar armor.

Motivation

Simon doesn't really trust that the organizations he's previously put his faith in have what it takes to get shit done anymore. Since the Inquisition is at least making an effort, he wants to be a part of it.



Sample 1 here.

Sample 2:

It's a longer than usual journey to pick this latest one up, across the border into Hambleton--though not so far across it that the Knight-Commander could pawn the kid off on the Markham Circle instead, despite his complaints about having to spare two of his men right now when there's a rash of Harrowings to be scheduled.

Simon isn't too sorry to miss out on those. He's surprised, though, that the Knight-Commander hadn't asked him to stay behind for them, and he wonders a bit fretfully if his superiors no longer think him fit for the job. Do they think he's gone soft? Is that why they've got him playing nanny to baby mages now instead of guarding against abominations?

To some degree, there's no questioning that. They send him after the mage-children because he's kind enough to them not to bring them back traumatized, and then they acclimate more quickly, and things run smoother for everyone. That sort of thing matters in Ansburg. It hadn't, so much, in Kirkwall.

"Never been to Hambleton before," Ser Andrews pipes up, rousing Simon from his surly reverie. Not that Andrews sounds much less sulky, for all the rare freedom they're being afforded right now. "First time out of the tower in months, and we can't even go anywhere nice. Can't we at least have a few drinks or meet some women before we have to go wade through the damned alienage?"

Simon can't say he's not thinking about it, but--no. For once in his entire career, he ought to be the responsible one. Just once. Never mind how desperately he's longed to go do some kind of wandering, or how easy it would be to spend just a few hours doing the sort of exploring and flirtation and general misbehavior they would never be allowed at the tower... "It's an alienage, not the Blackmarsh. You don't need liquid courage. Or...courage of ill repute."

"Says you," Andrews counters. "I could do with some bucking up first. Who knows what we might catch once we're in there with that lot?"

The sentiment is not one many would necessarily object to, and Simon keeps his mouth shut, but Andrews' company feels rather less enjoyable now. Simon decides he can stand not to spend any additional time in it.

"That's your problem," he says. "Let's fetch the kid and be gone."

Andrews' frown lets him know that this display of sport-spoiling won't be forgotten back in the barracks, but Simon tells himself that's not his problem either.