Ferelden-born, half-Orlesian rogue.
As per most roguish individuals, Sylvie has a very smooth personality. Charisma should, in all honesty, be her middle name. She is the perfect mix of sweet and sultry, able to switch her personality to whatever would best suit the circumstances. She can be a brilliant friend but a terrible enemy. Generally, Sylvie is a pleasant individual but she is sharp-witted and impatient; occasionally hot-headed and often possesses a barbed tongue. She is more likely to convince an enemy to stab himself than to draw her daggers.
Sylvie loves horses and cats; her opinion of dogs varies by the particular animal. She too loves the sea but mostly looking at it; she gets terribly seasick. She holds a particular fondness of cheeses and wines and a distinct disdain for strong ale or salted meats.
Very aged light dragonscale armor, a shiny red-black originally that has faded to a tarnished grayish color. Her daggers are equally aged, though well-kept - Orlesian in origin, as obvious by the ornate handles. She is a proficient (however still learning) lockpick and so carries such tools on her person. She carries a small vial of poison but only the one.
Her father, at the ripe young age of 18, had been a chevalier of Orlais. Sent to Gwaren merely two years before the Ferelden rebellion, Christophe Desmarais found himself uncontrollably in love with a common Ferelden woman. He had been raised as nobility in Orlais but decided one day that he would not return to his home and instead would build a home and a life with the apostate that shared his love of horses. Once he defected from the Orlesian army and joined the Fereldens in their fight to win their home back, he was welcomed with curious glances but somewhat open arms. After Ferelden won its independence in 9:00 Dragon, Christophe finally took Eleanor to be his wife. It took the two of them a few years to build their life together and, after some consternation, they were finally blessed with their oldest child, Phillipe. It was not until 9:10 Dragon that the fiery Sylvie was born.
Their life in the coastal town of Gwaren (an odd choice for an Orlesian to remain, especially considering Loghain's open disdain for his country) was mostly uneventful until Christophe passed away at the young age of forty-eight. It was sudden and most certainly unnatural. Phillipe had gone to join the King's army, as his father had years before. Sylvie remained at home to help on the farm that her parents had started years ago - also to study under her father. One of the things she learned was about poisons. She knew her father's death was caused by one in particular - the signs were obvious. After some trouble acquiring the ingredients, she distilled a very small vial. She swore she would find the individual that took her father (and subsequently her mother, because Eleanor did not live much longer for the want of Christophe) someday and the poison was reserved for him.
Sylvie practiced the art of dueling religiously when she was not tending to the horses or the fields; her brother returned periodically until the year 9:30. That was when the first darkspawn was sighted and when Phillipe was slain in the Battle of Ostagar.
With no choice but to defend her country (her father may have passed on bits and pieces of both the Orlesian accent and lore but he had chosen Ferelden years ago), Sylvie offered all but one horse to those fleeing Gwaren and made out north and west across the land to do what she could.