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Talathiel Undovir

Work in Progress - "Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear - not absence of fear"

0 · 380 views · located in Ferelden | Thedas

a character in “DA: The Dragon's Ballad”, as played by Sammael

Description




Talathiel Undovir





”Insert Quote Here.” –



BASICS




Name: Talathiel

Nickname: Tala | Elle

Age: 25

Gender: Female

Race: Elf

Status: Rogue




APPEARANCE




Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Deep Green

Skin Tone: Fair | Ivory | Pale

Height: 5’4

Weight: 125 lbs.

Physical Description: Talathiel looks like your typical elf. She is short, standing roughly five foot, four inches tall, and weighs a healthy one hundred and twenty five pounds. She uses her height to her advantage as her body is lithe and slim. Carrying little muscle, she is extremely flexible and has speed to make up for her lack of strength. Her body would be typical of those of elven blood, however; she doesn’t sport a curvy figure. Although she does have her curves, they are not as flashy and exuberant as she would have liked. She does have a bit of muscle around her legs and a bit around her arms do to training with the bow. In reality, compared to most elves, Talathiel isn’t quite as, profound. Her features are more
average. Her hair is a bit longer than it should be, falling to her knee’s in soft waves. Most of the time she keeps it up in a braided ponytail with a few strands braided down the sides of her face.




PERSONAL INFORMATION




Potential Interest: No one at the moment.

Weapon: Born a city elf, Talathiel did not have much experience in weaponry, however; that changed when she became dependent on hunting for her own food. She carries a bow that has been handed down from generation to generation in her foster family. She also carries a pair of daggers she picked up in Denerim before she joined the Grey Wardens.

Other: She doesn’t take to humans very well and will become hostile should she be in a large group of humans. She trusted only one human, and that was the human who happened to be the commanding Grey Warden. She is also going blind in her left eye due to an accident as a child.

Personality: Talathiel has a rather rambunctious personality. She believes in trying something once and what doesn’t kill her only makes her stronger. If she were any other thing, she would be confident. Not as in “I am holier than thou” confident, but she isn’t exactly shy or embarrassed to do certain things. She is highly motivated, and it usually doesn’t take much for her to accomplish something. At times, she can appear ‘cold’ towards a person, acting like she doesn’t care, but in reality; when meeting a new person, she doesn’t know how to act. It’s always been her and a handful of friends she’s had. Because of this, she finds it hard to trust people easily. Needless to say, when someone takes the time to work around the jagged edges, they’ll find a dedicated friend.

One thing she can do very well is speak her mind. She isn’t afraid to say what is on her mind and has offended a few people by doing so. While insulting someone, she has a very cherry disposition which often confuses people in that they can’t tell if she’s making fun of them or just joking. She is as sarcastic as she is calm. This is usually brought upon by people who she gets annoyed with and if she’s feeling a bit stressed; usually. Other times, it comes naturally to her. Oddly enough, she doesn’t like being around a large crowd of people. She gets extremely irritated should she ever be stuck between large groups of people. This usually brings out her temper. And a temper she has. Despite her calm façade, she has no problem telling you off should she be angered and doesn’t give a twat if she offends you. Even the smallest things can set her off, like if someone were to keep repeating the same message over and over again, in a different way; she’d smack that person in the back of the head. Should someone ever get on her bad side, they must either appease her anger or hide
in a different part of the world.

Despite this appearance, she can carry herself rather well. Nothing really seems to get her down (unless she’s angry) and should anyone try, they'd regret ever making her mad. She tends to take things a bit personal. Should you insult her in any way, she won’t hesitate to kick your ass. She will always fight for what she believes in and to protect those she loves. She doesn’t appreciate people who butt into her business and becomes rather hostile should someone try to put their nose where it doesn’t belong. She expects the same kind of courtesy she gives to others. If she doesn’t tell, then don’t ask. Should you try to get anything out of her that she doesn’t want to reveal, she’ll ignore you and pretend that you don’t exist; or murder you depending on how persistent you are. She doesn't take too well to humans. Because of their actions in the alienage where she grew up, she doesn't tolerate them much.

Brief History: Talathiel was born in the Denerim Alienage to elven parents, Dinendal and Luthiel. It wasn’t the best life as the humans frequently visited the alienage only to degrade the elves and to pick themselves up. This was exceptionally true for the noble humans. Dinendal and Luthiel always kept to themselves, even going so far as to live in a house that was in the far back of the alienage. This was to protect their newborn daughter from any harm that may have befallen her. Talathiel never knew her father because he perished in a fire caused by drunkards. Luthiel managed to escape with Talathiel, however; Dinendal remained trapped within the burning home and suffered horrendously. It wouldn’t be a year later that Luthiel would perish as well. At the tender age of one, Talathiel found herself orphaned, abandoned in the cold streets of Denerim’s Alienage destined to die before she could even live. She would be found a day later by the elder of the Alienage, Valendrian. She was handed to a family who would be able to care for a newborn. Luckily for her, she was not the only child born that night.




FAMILY INFORMATION




Father

Image
Credentials

Dinendal Undovir: 59: Deceased (at 29)
Dindendal was a man who was extremely calm no matter the situation. He always took his time in tending to things and was never quick to anger, unlike his wife. He was a loving father when Talathiel was born, and even more so a loving husband. Although his marriage was arranged, the elf had never been happier. Dinendal was never one for much conversation and always had a tranquil look upon his face. His death caused Luthiel to become a much more withdrawn woman, something he would never have wanted.




Mother

Image
Credentials

Luthiel Undovir: 55: Deceased (at 24)
Luthiel was a stubborn woman. Even for an elf, she wouldn’t allow herself to sway to others and had on more than one occasion fought back in retaliation. Of course this caused her to move to the alienage in Denerim after she was forced to leave the Alienage back in her hometown of Kirkwall. Of course after the death of her husband, Luthiel became a bit more withdrawn from others. She didn’t attend the activities she used to, and began ignoring her gardens she had worked so hard to create. Luthiel passed ten years after Dinendal passed and after Talathiel was born.



So begins...

Talathiel Undovir's Story

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#, as written by Sammael



Talathiel Undovir




Blood poured from an open wound lacing the outing of tattered armour. Labored breathing pooled out into the night air as Talathiel staggered through the forest. She could still hear the screams of the army, of the soldiers
of the Grey Wardens. Their faces were burning into her mind as she continued to run. Her muscles were beginning to exhaust as she continued to push herself further. It was because of that human, Loghain, that most of her comrades were dead...that Duncan was dead. The sound of the horn would haunt her ears for the rest of her life. She felt her foot catch onto an exposed tree root and felt her body collide with the earth. She felt the darkness slowly creeping over her vision. There was no fight left in her body. She was tired, and all she wanted to do was sleep.

She knew that if she did succumb to sleep, that she would never wake again. Talathiel did not want to give up, and dug her hands into the ground. With the little strength she had, she pushed herself back to her feet and stumbled forward, catching herself on the tree’s trunk. She took gulps of air, filling her lungs with as much needed oxygen as she could before she lifted herself off of the trunk and began to run again. There was no time for rest. She could smell the flesh of the dead as they began to burn. The darkspawn were no doubted behind her and would catch up with her in the next hour or so. She noticed a few following after her when she broke from the group of Grey Wardens, however; she wasn’t certain if she lost them or not.

Talathiel came to a stop. She needed to rest, her body needed to rest. Either she would die by the darkspawn or by her own exhaustion. She didn’t want to die
not yet. She needed to get revenge on Loghain for his treachery. She never trusted humans before, and she felt like a fool for trusting them again. But Duncan had assured her that everything would be alright, that this battle was as good as won. There wouldn’t be the need for countless lives to be sacrificed for nothing. Then again, Loghain was supposed to provide support for the battle when the signal was lit.

He only showed that Talathiel should not have put her trust in a human. It was her fault that she carried the poison of tainted blood, and it was her fault for allowing herself to think that she could actually trust someone other than another elf. She continued at a fast-paced walk, pushing branches out of her way and clearing the small ones with her dagger. Her insides were burning as were her muscles from the exertion she was putting her body through. If she didn’t stop soon
she would kill herself. The amount of blood she was losing would also cause her to slip into oblivion.

She stopped, resting her shoulder against a tree before slumping down. She coughed, blood pouring from her mouth as it racked her body. She just wanted to rest now. This would be the perfect place to rest. The trees were bright, the sun was glaring through the holes, and the smoke in the distance was but a mere dot. She pulled the dagger from her belt and held it against her chest. She would rather be prepared than to die unguarded. Whether or not she would live this ordeal would be decided as she slowly felt the darkness cover her vision, unaware of the shadow that loomed over.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alan Darkmare Character Portrait: Talathiel Undovir Character Portrait: Daylen Amell
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Alan watched with some irritation as several of his men fell to the taint. It wasn't losing them in particular that caused him ire, more so than losing them to the Darkspawn did. He was more than ready to leave Ostagar. Alan rode in the center of the pack of fleeing Templars, Daylen was further along in the back, he wanted the mage there should any surprise attacks occur. As they marched on Alan barked out his orders, and the men moved in perfect sync to his words. Even in all the chaos of the battlefield, the Templar Knights stayed vigilant. Survival was their motivator, and their captain was the catalyst.

"Captain!" One of the men called out. Alan reared his horse to a halt. "A survivor," At the edge of the trees of the Wilds, their sat a bloodied elvan woman. Though her beauty enchanting, the captain was prepared to let her die--until he took notice of the griffin insignia on her armor.

"A Warden..." The vague traces of voice escaped from his mouth. "Amell! Can you heal this woman? She just might be what we need." If the Warden's truly were gone after Ostagar, this woman might be the must valuable boon in Ferelden. A boon Alan was not about to let slip through his fingers.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alan Darkmare Character Portrait: Talathiel Undovir Character Portrait: Daylen Amell Character Portrait: Kithic Desdemona
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Darkspawn. Darkspawn everywhere. Kithic sit in a crowd of bushes watching the battle unfold with a sad shake of her head. No way in hell was she going to be able to find the Grey Wardens now, if any of them were even still alive that was. She watched as the King was killed mercilessly and closed her eyes to the splatter of blood all over the field. The battle was not supposed to end this way. What happened to the troops that would help? No matter, even if all the Grey Wardens weren't all dead she couldn't stand around here waiting to be killed.

Moving quickly in the shadows of the trees Kithic kept her eyes on the Darkspawn forces with careful study. They were....unusually organized for Darkspawn. The ones she had encountered had been so barbaric and primal. They didn't think before. If they were showing even an inkling of intelligence now, that was extremely bad. Her eyes skimmed the field and made notes to write down in her book later. This would be an interesting case study, even if it meant something terrible was about to happen.

Just as she reached a small path leading away from Ostagar, a horn sounded signalling the retreat. This sparked the need to move even faster than she had been. People fleeing usually meant that the enemy would try and follow to kill even more, and if they were moving off the battlefield then they would surely find this wandering mage and view her as a snack. With a sigh Kithic started to run as quietly as she could.

Unfortunately the Maker had a sense of humor today and led Kithic right to a group of about five Darkspawn. They were eating a couple dead bodies which...Kithic found to be disturbing and gross. She was thinking she might be able to sneak past them when she caught her scent. Dammit. She didn't have time to waste on this. With a groan she gripped her pack tighter to her back and raised one hand. Before the creatures could register what happened she had spoken her words and shuddered as her hand was sent from body temperature to near freezing. Small price to pay considered the five things were now blocks of ice. A small smile and she was on her way again; the ice wouldn't last forever and she had no doubt they would be angry at losing the next meal.

The farther from the battle she went the more distant the sounds of the dead became. The fainter the smell of burning flesh. The easier it was to ignore that she had just watched a king being crushed and drained of his blood like he was a mosquito. Kithic shook her head and skidded to a stop at the edge of the forest. She hadn't been paying attention and had nearly run into a group of Templars. Swell.

She crouched down and stayed silent, her hood pulled farther over her head. It was easy to see the man in charge, he was barking out orders like the alpha wolf. The group was small, but not small enough for her to feel comfortable. She scanned the group and saw they were tired and bloody, understandable given the circumstances. There was a mage though... that may come in handy. If they had one mage with them perhaps they wouldn't mind another? She gave a small chuckle at the stupidity of the notion and looked to see what they were all so intensely focused on. If she squinted she could make out an injured woman, an elf maybe since she was a great deal prettier than any other human she'd seen and it LOOKED like she had pointed ears. It was her armor that made her more interesting though.

It took longer than it should have to realize what the symbol on the woman's armor was and she looked up at the sky to thank the Maker. A Warden. Kithic stayed crouched down and eyes trained on the group in front of her.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alan Darkmare Character Portrait: Talathiel Undovir Character Portrait: Daylen Amell
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#, as written by Sammael
Talathiel’s world was a veil of black. She couldn’t see anything, feel anything, nor hear anything. Then, there was a burning sensation. It covered her body in a blanket of warmth as she felt her fingers twitch. Someone was healing her? Who would heal a corpse? Immediately, her eyes snapped open to the blazing glare of armour and soldiers. If she had not been quite as injured, she might have stood quickly with her blade drawn, however; the fevered feeling ran through her body like a hot knife searing her skin. Her hand still rested on the hilt of her blade, trying to pull it free from its sheath before she finally glanced around her surroundings. She noticed a small militia of men, standing around her as if they had just found a prize. She then noticed a human male standing directly in front of her, spilling magic from his hands and around her.

“Get away from me shemlen,” she spat, slapping his hand away from her as she did so. She then glared up towards the rest of the group before struggling to stand. She did not need the help of a mage, or any of the other humans for that matter. She needed to retreat further away from the battle field. The darkspawn would be marching soon and she would be in their line of march. She didn’t want to face the demons again and she was still wounded. Speaking of which, she thought as she placed her hand to her side. She was still bleeding as the liquid pooled into her hands. A breeze of air brushed passed her as she focused again on the army in front of her.

“And who are you?” she questioned as she stared at a man with peculiar white hair. As much as she didn’t want to be around humans, these particular armoured shemlen would provide the coverage she would need to survive the onslaught of darkspawn. Or at least escape and find a reasonable shelter to take home in.