Dragon Age: Absolution is an alternate universe RPG based on BioWare's video game and novel series. DA: Absolution is rated 18+ for mature content, and played in a highly literate third-person perspective. All DA concepts and pictures belong to Bioware and their respective artists.

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10.5 - Absolution is open, active and welcomes you! What has changed in the past few months? A civil war has started in Ferelden! Seekers have arrived in Kirkwall, and tensions are higher than ever. And pirates? Come, join the fun!

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Quote of the Week-

❝There has yet to be a thing that I have wanted that gold cannot buy. Drink. Food. New armour. New blades. Boys. Girls. Gold is what makes the world turn, princess, whether you want to admit it or not."
Orion Stormborn[src]

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Title: Andulaz "Chef"
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Marius Domitan


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Apr 28 2014, 04:30 PM
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<div style="width: 300px; text-align: center; font-family: times; font-size: 16px; text-transform: lowercase; font-style: italic; color: #a12a27; letter-spacing: 3px; text-shadow: 1px 1px #eee; margin-bottom: 10px;">Marius Nikodemos Domitan</div>

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<div class="takeit"><div style="width: 240px; margin: 0px 15px 0px 15px;">MERRY</div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 10px;"></div>
<div class="takeit"><div style="width: 240px; margin: 0px 15px 0px 15px;">26</div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 10px;"></div>
<div class="takeit"><div style="width: 240px; margin: 0px 15px 0px 15px;">BISEXUAL</div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 10px;"></div>
<div class="takeit"><div style="width: 240px; margin: 0px 15px 0px 15px;">CRIMINAL</div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 10px;"></div>
<div class="takeit"><div style="width: 240px; margin: 0px 15px 0px 15px;">ROGUE</div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 10px;"></div>
<div class="takeit"><div style="width: 240px; margin: 0px 15px 0px 15px;">ARMISTICE, SABOTAGE, STEALTH </div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 10px;"></div>
<div class="takeit"><div style="width: 240px; margin: 0px 15px 0px 15px;">N/A</div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 10px;"></div>
<div class="takeit"><div style="width: 240px; margin: 0px 15px 0px 15px;">DUAL WIELD, ARCHERY</div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 10px;"></div>
<div class="takeit"><div style="width: 240px; margin: 0px 15px 0px 15px;">CHAOTIC GOOD</div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 10px;"></div>

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<div style="text-align: right; font-family: times; font-size: 12px; color: #a12a27; font-style: italic; text-transform: lowercase; line-height: 30px; letter-spacing: 3px; text-shadow: 1px 1px #eee;">▸ history</div><div style="text-align: center; border-top: 1px dotted #778877; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div><div style="padding-right: 10px; padding-left: 10px; width: 280px; height: 300px; text-align: justify; font-family: times; font-size: 12px; overflow: auto;">

<p>"Seheron is beautiful, this time of year."

Even the humidity was sweet, she was right. Always.

<p>"Seheron is beautiful, this time of year."

It was muddy and sticky and his fat child fingers were ofttimes swollen in the heat. But she knew, she said it was beautiful and so it was. Ina had though a lot of things beautiful. Old Gods. Magic. The slave, nameless but with the most beautiful, big golden eyes.

<p>"Seheron is beautiful, this time of year."

<p>Sticky, sticky crimson. She couldn't say it anymore. Not after the For Warriors had their way. But she had fought, just as she had fought for the right to get into the Circle. Soporati, turned Laetan. Elvhen too. And after, after the disaterous night of pleasure she had lost her purpose. The Qun gave it back. The Qun drove her to Seheron. She died a Viddathari.

<p>And left her darling all alone.

<p>Seven. Marius was seven and left for dead in what was once a settlement, on the coast of that cursed island. Surrounded by war and plague and death, it's a wonder that Marius survived. In a way, the sea saved him. Not two days after the tragedy, he was picked up and starvation cured. Salvation was back in Tevinter, after a short stint as a cabin boy. Kind sailors, Felicima Armada, he thinks, though he can't quite remember. It was certainly a strange experience, he remembers only that he worked hard for his passage, a small and sweet elvhen boy. Melancholy, yet talkative. Born lucky.

<p>The streets of Tevinter were harsher than the seas though, it's a wonder the child didn't get taken for a slave. Adopted first by a gang of urchins, Marius learnt to survive first-most and to steal foremost.

<p>You could say his life really started when he stole a loaf of bread.

<p>A kindly baker with, a widower with no children to call his own, had caught the young elf attempting to steal from his quaint but very busy bakery. Instead of reporting him, or giving him a good walloping, the man gave him food and water, sat him down and heard his story.

<p>What a heartbreaking story it was, especially heard from the mouth of a small and starving child. So compassionate, the man made Marius his very own apprentice and loved him like a son. It was a wonderful end to his childhood, kneading his troubles into robust and hearty pastries, the only remnants of his life appearing in the night terrors.

<p>Which only got worse as he got older. By the time he was sixteen he'd taken to simply not sleeping, or sleeping as little as could be managed. His nights were spent firing bows and training unless he was indulging in roguelike activities by the docks, making use of those light fingers he'd been blessed with. Born lucky. Born cursed. Whatever you say he had a poker face like you've never seen and the dice most often rolled in his favour. With his fingers he could whip up your trinkets as fast as he could a 'dodgy' loaf for you to choke on. An exercise for his mind, a new way to bleed, the thrill he'd never known he'd wanted. It was really a perfect double life, in complete balance. The baker, his most beloved mentor, didn't know about his dalliances, and the scoundrels he spent his nights with had no idea he was the sweet Elven baker's boy. The money he earned was being put aside to try and afford for his father figure and himself to move to a better part of town, their goods were good enough, they simply didn't have the status or location to be earning enough.

<p>Say what you will about the sleepless, sorrowful boy, his heart was always in the right place. He didn't mean to cross the crime syndicate. Nor did he mean to get that hammered. The shock of seeing his home, and his beloved teacher, his father's charred remains was enough to send him into the sea. Returning to his love, the call of the waves, he'd see his mother and the baker again. An end to his miserable existence, the night terrors that marred what joy was to be had.

<p>If the slavers hadn't found him he'd be dead. Instead he managed to find himself in a worse state. Chained and exposed, at the mercy of his captors. Then his master. A dark, terrible time he has never spoken of to anyone. His sweet laugh, lost to the ages, grief and anger were all that kept him alive.

<p>Until the day he saw the sea again. It was not unlike seeing the sun for the first time, since he had been kept in his masters dungeons. As broken as he was, his imagination was even wilder. His determination not to die, but to live a...roguelike existence. Better than the one he had, a life upon the water. The Felicima Armada, there was no time in his miserable life he had been so at home. Such a dream, such a distant reality kept that faraway look in his eyes. Kept him desirable to his master, kept him alive and kept him sane. As far as he was concerned he did not live in a Magister's chambers. He lived upon the open sea. Marius would breathe the sea air. The scars would heal, so would his broken mind.

<p>And so it was. A little fish, aboard a ship on his way to Seheron, he was trusted enough to walk aboard and aside his master.

<p>Relief hit his skin as the saltwater stung, swimming until his bones ached and by some miracle he had found an endless stretch of ocean to hide in. Laughter, manical laughter that he had escaped, that he was surely to die anyway. Grief, pain and horrors that now only existed in memory.

<p>The little fish gave himself up to the sea. Until he was caught. By the Captain of the Andulaz herself.

<p>The rest is history. The previous Andulaz cook had been terrible, and reduced to a shipmate when the crew tasted Marius' sweet rolls on sure. A farewell present to his rescuers. One that kept him on board. His many talents are put to use, and the things he can do on a ship's rations. Though perhaps no one will admit it, he is a fine addition and would be sorely missed. It is a place where he belongs.

<p>Living his dream, at first he was morbid and near silent. Earning him the affectionate and very sarcastic nickname of 'merry.' Though the year and a half he's spent aboard have opened him up, he's staring to live up to the name. More smiles, a few laughs even. Surprising people with his quiet sense of humour. The Captain now knows most of his life story, which was indeed a grievance to tell. For the Captain and many Shipmates he has utmost respect, and has earned a certain respect of his own. Jack of all trades, master of none but the preparation of decent foods. His thoughtful, compassionate nature have not been lost in time, nor has his quiet yet rogue-ish charm. His moral code...is sometimes self serving, in a rather innocent way. Grey. The faraway look I his eyes often returns, as the melancholy surfaces and he dwells on loved ones lost. Years wasted to the pleasure of a monster.

<p>He'd have it no other way.

It's the quiet ones you have to watch out for.

<div style="text-align: center; border-top: 1px dotted #778877; margin-top: 10px;"><div style="text-align: right; font-family: times; font-size: 12px; color: #a12a27; font-style: italic; text-transform: lowercase; line-height: 30px; letter-spacing: 3px; text-shadow: 1px 1px #eee;">▸ Amy. 'Jailbait' age apparently. GMT+10.</div>


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