Eristewig Lang

The Apostate-Errant

**Eristewig Lang** is an Ander mage and a member of the High Dragons adventure company. Guided all his life by a lust for chivalric glory, he has been roaming the Bannorn as an apostate for two years on a path of noble deeds.

## Appearance

Eristewig has a body that is sinewy and tough, despite falling a little bit short of the astounding musculature typical of a dedicated close combatant. Walking with confidence, and, on a good day, even a sprinkle of poise, he stands at five feet and ten inches, tall for the average Fereldan man but average for an Ander man. When left alone or outside of a conversation, he can be seen contemplating various interesting things in his sight. Cursed with a sporadic "resting glower", he can sometimes display a face of bitter contempt when is actually quite relaxed or emotionally neutral.

Eristewig's heart-shaped face displays the olive skin and warm undertones left upon him by his arid-lander blood. His eyes are a prominent pair of almonds, centred with irises the warm colour of cinnamon. Resting above are his soft-angled eyebrows, and below, a nose with a slight aquiline curve. His umber hair grows thick and dark, but he always keeps it in check: he trims his eyebrows, restrains his beard to a dark stubble, and regularly cleans his coiffure before conditioning it with a natural paste that leaves a faint smell of honey and stale peanuts - due to the low access to the ingredients in Ferelden, he sometimes runs out, and simply slicks his hair back with animal fat.

Illustrious attire is not a luxury that Eristewig has been able to afford. He tries to buy new clothes whenever he can, but his funds are comfortable at best, and he plodded to Redcliffe in ram leather boots, a red velveteen tunic, and a shabby pair of dark-grey samite pants, the rest of his equipment stashed under a cloak of dragonling scales that someone clearly attempted and failed to dye completely green. He keeps his dirk stashed at his left hip, and only rarely straps his polearm to his back, preferring to hold it as he moves.

In expectation of combat, Eristewig dons a drab gambeson of quilted wool and has vambraces, gauntlets, poleyns, and greaves, all fashioned from boiled druffalo hide. His poleyns and greaves are worn from frequent rock-climbing. His helmet is of traditional Ferelden design, polished steel with a round, spiked top and a retractable visor that leaves a narrow slit for viewing when down.

## Combat Information

### Armament

* ***Glaive*** - A glaive with a 6-foot shaft of darkened wood, nicked here and there. On the primary end: a blade of steel, its back end fitted with an upward hook meant for catching other blades. On the bottom end: what appears to be a slightly large iron cap, which is, in fact, a magical focus designed to cast bolts of electricity at short range. as well as enhance Eristewig's manual spells.
* ***Fereldan dirk*** - A long thrusting dagger, eighteen inches long with an iron blade. If an enemy gets too close to Eristewig, they will usually be stabbed after a swift mind blast.

### Abilities

* ***Telekinetic Weapons*** - In almost every engagement, Eristewig brightens his blade with telekinetic energy. It feels much less beautiful than it looks, and almost completely nullifies the advantage of any foe with thick armour. Atoms themselves disunite in the path of the magicked metal.
* ***Mind Blast***
* ***Barrier*** - With a wave of his hand, Eristewig can cast a protective barrier of repulsive telekinesis over someone. He prefers to use this over the more powerful "arcane shield" spell, as using this spell allows him to protect another as well as himself, such as a hostage he is attempting to rescue. Toying with the runic inscription that the spell generates can also allow him to illuminate dark areas. At his current level, he is capable of casting nine-second barriers with an area-of-effect three metres in diameter, and must take twenty-four-second breaks in between.
* ***Rejuvenate*** - Eristewig can channel regenerative energy to boost the natural processes of a body. In the heat of combat, this can be used to help himself or someone else push on a little bit harder, or survive their injuries and beat a hasty retreat so they can get back into proper care. With concentration, this spell has been used before by Eristewig to heal ailing villagers in order to curry favour with folk, though using it in such a manner requires hours of concentration, depending on the severity of the illness or injury.

### Skills

#### Communication

* Persuasion
* Deception
* Storytelling

#### Knowledge

* History
	+ Anderfels (basic)
	+ Andraste (advanced)
	+ Darkspawn (advanced)
	+ Grey Wardens (advanced)
	+ Orlais (advanced)
	+ Ferelden (basic)
* Investigation
* Knowledge of Lore
	+ Anderfels folklore
	+ Chant of Light (the story, not the exact verses)
	+ Demons (basic)
	+ Darkspawn (advanced)
	+ Ferelden folklore

#### Combat

* Knife Fighting
* Spear Fighting

## Biography

### Anderfels: 9:12-9:28

Eristewig was born in Safdorf, an Ander village amidst the dry Hunterhorn Mountains. Safdorf earned its name (“Safe Village”) due to it being high on the southeastern ridge of the Hunterhorns, and, therefore, mostly unmolested by the darkspawn endemic in Anderfels. As a consequence, the villagers, though practising Andrasteans by law, were not as fervently pious as the Anders living in less-fortunate lowland settlements. They had no reason to fear darkspawn attacks when the fiends did nothing more menacing than lurking around the lake below during very dim days or nighttime.

Despite the relative comfort that a typical Ander would feel in Safdorf, Eristewig found life in the crowded village horrifically dull; he was the fifth-born of eight children, and often found himself ignored by his family. His impassive father, Valianz, was often too busy hunting and skinning game to bond with any of his children except Eristjung and Dietrich, Eristewig's two diligent brothers. Meanwhile, his mother, Netta, showed blatant favouritism to her five daughters. Since his folk did not pay much mind to Eristewig, Eristewig did not pay much mind to them either, and he forged himself into an adventurous maverick who needed no one other than his two friends, Adal and Bekannt.

The only thing that Eristewig enjoyed about every morning's chantry service was the act of singing. The harsh, monotonous existence that many rural Anders must endure means that they often turn to simple pastimes such as singing and storytelling to fight boredom. With no precedent in his family, Eristewig took to singing like fire to alcohol. His neglect at home meant that he could wander all the way down to and around the beginning of the Lattenfluss without reprimand. After every morning service, he, Adal, and Bekannt would gallivant downslope, poking fun at Chantry hymns or making up their own songs. Eristewig would remember many of those songs, which mostly concerned aspects of daily Ander life with a humorous twist, and got progressively bawdier as the boys grew older. But the trio would never be so foolish as to linger outside as late as sunset, for that was the time when the darskpawn would crawl from their tunnels and haunt the steppes. In dying light, any strange sound or shape in the distance was enough to send the trio scurrying back to the safety of the village palisade. Still, they confidently return to their gallivanting the next day if weather permitted, wandering down and around the lake banks, and even close to the Merdaine. But one day, the three boys wandered too far.

It was a cool day in the Firstfall of 9:23 Dragon. Eristewig and Bekannt were both eleven years old, and Adal was twelve. The boys had caught a fresh interest in the Grey Wardens after a few from the Order visited Safdorf the previous day to educate the village’s children on the darkspawn and the Blights. The trio set out to in search of Grey Warden relics left behind from previous Blights. They figured that they would be more likely to find such objects the closer they brought there hunt to the Blightlands; a risky endeavour, but it was bright enough, and they expected to be safe. Indeed, they were able to find small shards of metal in a dried river valley that once fed the Lattenfluss, but before they could make any greater discoveries, they were suddenly attacked by a marauding pack of hurlocks. The hurlocks, only a handful in number, were in a disadvantageous state: they were physically diminished by the sunlight, three or four of them were wounded from some previous fight, and they had no weaponry save for the bow and arrows of a single archer.

The archer shot at the boys before they could even comprehend the situation, and with horrific and unforgettable screaming, Bekannt was disabled with two arrows to the thigh. He cried out for Eristewig and Adal to help him, but the terrified boys were already running for cover that they never made it to; Adal tripped and hit his head, while Eristewig was pierced underneath the left armpit by an arrow that barely missed his heart. The hurlocks were sure that Eristewig was already dead or dying as he slumped against a rock wall, though one of them still pushed him around a bit just to be sure. But now the hurlocks had no weapons left and no energy to conventionally finish off Adal and Bekannt. Instead, they began dragging the two boys down to a deep crevice so they could be fatally tossed down. Bekannt continued to wail and plead, Adal was barely conscious, and Eristewig could do nothing but watch, hopeless to save them, or himself. But as he watched, he saw two Grey Wardens step into the scene, brilliant in their scintillating helmets and crested breastplates. They easily slew the hurlocks before Adal and Bekannt could be killed. In his bled daze, the image of a Grey Warden carrying him back to Safdorf was burned into Eristewig’s young mind, the skilled warrior who had come to rescue him and his friends from terrifying monsters in a time of what looked like certain doom, and bore his weight all the way up the mountain till he got to Safdorf's healer. “Heinrich” was his name, and his simple act of duty would completely alter the course of Eristewig’s life.

Over the next few years, darkspawn activity near Safdorf grew significantly. Hunters would have close brushes with small bands that occasionally included alphas. On four occasions, shrieks stalked up the mountainside and tried to overcome the palisade, but, every time, a raven would be dispatched to alert the Wardens, who would quickly come to slay the creatures. Then came the tragedy of Guardian 9:28. Trackers reported that a large herd of August rams had migrated into the Hunterhorn Mountains, an unusual but miraculous event for the local hunters. A hunting party consisting of most of the men and their sons set out, and too late did they realise that the rams were being herded by crafty darkspawn. Of the forty-or-so that left, only nineteen returned, and a few of them were pale with the cruel taint - including Adal. Eristewig had to watch his friend slowly waste away over weeks until he was mercifully poisoned by the village healer, both boys being just fifteen years old at the time. Afterwards, Grey Warden scouts discovered that the increased activity was due to several tunnels being carved out throughout the Mountains by an aspiring darkspawn warlord. Darkspawn marauders went on to harass and deter hunters, and the village sometimes went for days with minimal food.

By late Bloomingtide, sixteen-year-old Eristewig regarded Anderfels as insufferable and dangerous. With the shadow of the darkspawn looming over him oppressively, the only light in his life was the gleaming, idealistic memory of the Grey Wardens saving him and his friends from the hurlocks, just like the heroes he had read about obsessively since then. He was convinced that, having endured so much and dreamt so vividly of a glorious future, it was his destiny to become a hero. But did the path lead to anywhere in this bleak and nearly-barren nation? No, he was sure it led to the storied land of Orlais, famous for its noble chevaliers. So, in the month of Justinian 9:28, he absconded at night into the Blasted Hills with just a simple dagger, a modicum of sheep cheese, the ragged clothes on his back, and four bedtime storybooks.

### Orlais: 9:28-9:37

After a long night of wandering, Eristewig found the ruins of Andoral's Reach and slept there. He stumbled across a merchant caravan by noontide of the next day, and persuaded the reluctant merchants to give him a ride to Churneau in exchange for singing to them all the way. The merchants were so impressed by Eristewig’s baritone voice that, upon arriving in Churneau and doing business with Comtesse Andrée de Bleucollines, one of them gushed about the “hearty Ander boy who sang himself all the way across the border”. Upon further investigation, she learned that he often sang about bizarre and detailed dreams involving evil monsters that he had to thwart. She correctly deduced that Eristewig was a mage and that the dreams he sang of were his vivid experiences in the Fade. A young, impressionable boy with both magic and oral talent would undoubtedly make a fitting bard, she thought, and she was eager to expand her influence in the Grand Game. She found Eristewig singing for money along with a few buskers, and after a lengthy conversation full of smiles and jests, she offered to help him deal with his more unpleasant dreams, as well as give him the luxurious comforts of Orlesian noble life, an offer he was hasty to accept. When she tested him for and confirmed his magical abilities, of which he himself was hitherto unaware of, Eristewig was intimidated. She told him that, should his magic be discovered by the Circle, he would be trapped in a cloistered life for the rest of his days; but, if he helped her curry favour with the Chantry, she would get him a dispensation to become a knight-enchanter. Eristewig was already captivated by Orlesian life, and with the promise of one day being able to achieve his great dream, he completely fell to the Comtesse’s encouraging, motherly wiles.

She assigned him a tutor to teach him literacy and fluency in the Orlesian and Common languages. After willingly translating and changing his name to “Iléternel Longue”, anyone would have thought he was a born-and-raised Orlesian unless he or the Comtesse gave it away. He was not the only young apostate that Bleucollines had adopted; Eristewig was one of eleven that would later become known as the “Bleucollines Bards”, infamous, not for their skill, but for their dramatic downfall, but that is to be told later. Once he had been coated with a convincing social exterior, Bleucollines quickly had him put under the tutelage of the ex-Circle apostates she employed to train all of her bards. In an elven ruin near Bleucollines’ summer home in the Deauvin Flats, Eristewig was taught practical magic. He learned almost nothing of magical theory as would be taught in the Circle, and while he did receive basic guidance on avoiding demonic possession, he never underwent a Harrowing ritual.

By the age of eighteen, he was deemed presentable enough to be sent to the University of Orlais, where he primarily studied philosophy, poetry, and history. His adventurous personality took flight in his time in Val Royeaux; he became well-known among his classmates and teachers as a wild thinker, a thoughtful poet, and even a bit of a voluptuary. He was a very talkative and cordial young man, always encouraging his fellows to pursue their desires and give everything a worthy effort. When he was not studying, writing, or gallivanting, he was practising sword fighting with friends.

Only after finishing his studies at the University at the age of twenty-one did Eristewig meet his bardmaster, Luc. Luc was, much like Eristewig's father, a gruff and apathetic man, but because Bleucollines’ control over her bards depended on loyal, quasi-maternal bonds, she had Luc refrain from weeding out their capacities for compassion and love. On the one occasion that Bleucollines neglect to Harrow her mage-bards led to an unsurprising incident with the little-known twelfth Bluecollines Bard, she had the young man quickly and quietly disposed of. Eristewig barely noticed, for by then he was already fully immersed in the Game; discretion and grandeur, performances and deceptions, parties and thievery, sex and strategy, and a false promise that all of it would eventually lead him to a position of honour. While he knew that not everything he was doing was becoming of a romantic hero, he saw his silver mask as a representation of the person he needed to be during his climb up the figurative mountain - and he was certainly enjoying the hike. Besides, he was a very “soft” bard as far as bards go, and had never caused any direct, lasting harm to a person.

It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon in the month of Guardian 9:37 when he no longer had the luxury of such a light conscience. A highly-respected guard captain in Ghislain suffered a fatal fall from a rooftop while intoxicated. It seemed like nothing more than a drunken accident, but in truth, he had caught Eristewig trying to steal from him for the Comtesse. The inebriated captain had tried to outright kill Eristewig, who reflexively used a mind blast in self-defence. He returned to Comtesse de Bleucollines expecting admonishment, but instead, the Comtesse showered him with praise. The death, easily dismissible as an accident, was ultimately more beneficial to her than the planned theft of a few scandalous items. The young man had killed a person for the first time in his entire life, to great positive feedback from his caretaker. It was only then that the reality of his situation began to sink in: he had spent three years wading into a dark swamp of espionage and politicking, lured to his inevitable drowning by a false promise of fulfilment. Once more, he only had a light amidst chilling darkness, and now even the light made him feel sick. He was aware of his own hypocrisy and corruption, but far too fearful of what would happen if he tried to escape. For months after, he lived in hopelessness and trepidation.

His salvation came from an unexpected party - the Templars. In Firstfall that year, the Comtesse was exposed by a rival. She was sentenced to five years of imprisonment in Val Royeaux, and, of course, the Templars hunted down every one of her bards. Seven were killed, and three were captured, most likely being made Tranquil. In an immense stroke of luck, fate had placed Eristewig far away in Val Chevin at the time, and he received a letter of warning from an acquaintance. At last, having tentative hope for a more ideal future, he fled to Cumberland, where he managed to buy a boat ride across the Waking Sea to Highever.

### Ferelden: 9:37-

Eristewig did away with all but his most prized possessions and used his birth name to avoid discovery, though he still had a few run-ins with agents of Orlesian nobles looking to capture him and discover the Comtesse's secrets, and soon decided to enter the feudal chaos of the Bannorn in hope that it would keep him safe from Templars. And it was in the Bannorn that he felt more at home than ever before; here, the people were tossed around in a tempest of high-society rivalry, they disliked Orlesians, and they valued honour and loyalty above all else. Not only was Eristewig surrounded by people he could easily empathise with, but their abundant problems gave Eristewig abundant opportunities for adventure. No more, he decided, would he humour the life of the chevalier who was either in league with or a tool for immoral aristocrats. He would, instead, become a folk hero, an unknighted knight-errant pledging himself to the aid of the common man, especially those maltreated by their nobility. Some nights he slept in warm beds with a full belly, and others he slept curled up in the corner of an abandoned chantry, but for the bulk of his two years in the Bannorn saw him content with being his own man, free to make his own moral decisions.

However, the winter of 9:38 marked a change in his disposition. The Templars in the Bannorn grew particularly active during this period, and he found himself pursued relentlessly in both the frigid wild and the huddled settlements. Villagers and townspeople who were struggling to endure the harsh weather were far less compassionate towards him then they would be at any other time of year, and he realised that, to the greater world, he was just an apostate. A criminal, without a name, his scattered deeds leaving him with no identity to be respected or loved. He was utterly alone in his quest to prove his chivalric value, and if he continued the way he did, he always would be. But he had no way out; the Templars would find him out if he tried to become more grandiose in his endeavours, and handing himself over to them would leave him cloistered in a Circle, or, even worse, turned into one of these “Tranquil” folk he'd heard of. The only free life he could lead meant putting all of his effort into small deeds without even the necessary return for him to continue in the long term, and always being in fear of those who were out to get him for one thing that was not his fault. Many difficult situations forced him to use whatever unscrupulous bard skills he could still remember, causing him to be further reminded of his past. He became deeply fatalistic but tried to press on just one more year.

By Haring 9:39, he was at the end of his rope. He had been chased halfway across the Bannorn by a troop of Templars, and was drowning his woes in wine and mead in Dane’s Refuge, Lothering, when he overhead two men talking about the “Crusader’s Guild” in Redcliffe, a group created by the Chantry in order to maintain order in a time of strife. And they accepted apostates.
Eristewig decided that he had nothing left to lose, and nowhere else to go but the Circle. And even if pursuing membership with these people did end with him being sent to Lake Calenhad, or even made Tranquil, he was bound to find peace some way. With a fresh smile, he followed the shadow of the Imperial Highway…

## Personal Relationships

### Family

* **Valianz Lang** - Despite his rather stoic name, Valianz was far from a hero, even in typical fatherly fashion; he was a cool and mostly apathetic man, perhaps too concerned on putting food on his family's table to really bring much else into their lives. The only two of his eight children that he spent any remarkable time with were Dietrich and Eristjung, his relationship with Eristewig being essentially one of blood alone. By the time Eristewig came home a little late and dug into his cold dinner, Valianz was usually already sleeping or drinking after a hard day hunting on the steppes.
* **Netta Lang** - Obsessed with her five daughters, Netta ignored all three of her sons during Eristewig's time in the family. Whenever Eristewig saw her, it was either at the chantry or at home where he usually only saw her crafting tapestries and clothes with her daughters. She at least seemed to take great pride in making nice things, and Eristewig recalls that her cooking was superb.
* **Dietrich and Eristjung Lang** - Eristwig was no more close to his two brothers than to anyone else in the household. Though all three of the boys were neglected by their mother, Dietrich and Eristjung, as opposed to the more independent Eristwig, stuck to their father like tar. They would often accompany him during hunts, and would otherwise keep to each other and their own friends.
* **Andre, Faustine, Glanza, Siesenett, and Sieisweise Lang** - Eristwig and his sisters were very misaligned in interest and demeanour. The five girls were far too dainty for the knee-scraping, shoe-dirtying journeys out of Safdorf that Eristwig and his friends often embarked upon. Their mother raised them to be very insular, and they did not interact much with the other children in the village. Eristewig recalls that Sieisweise shared his love of singing, and was a little more rough and vigorous than her sisters, but never bonded with him, likely because she regarded him as a bit of a rogue among the family.

### Friendships

* **Adal (**†) - The quietest of the trio, Adal was one of Eristewig's two closest friends in Safdorf - arguably his only two true friends, as no other children in the village were brave enough to gallivant outside the walls almost every single day. Adal had a sonorous bass voice from just thirteen years of age, and Eristewig felt that he was probably the best singer out of all three of them, but his lovely voice was silenced when he contracted the taint, and had to be euthanised at only fifteen years of age to avoid possibly degrading into a ghoul. In memory of him, Eristewig wrote three different poems, one of which is titled *Pale Hand*, which he would read out for any employer looking to remember a deceased person.
* **Bekannt** - A tall lad with raven-black hair, Bekannt was the most boisterous in the trio up until their attack by the hurlocks in 9:23, after which he would often become very hesitant about going out when the sky was anything less than blue and bright. Like Eristewig, he was devastated by Adal's death, and never walked outside the village again. His friendship with Eristewig quickly petered out as a result. When Eristewig was abandoning Anderfels, he offered to take Bekannt with him, but by then the lad was too terrified of the outside world. Eristewig, feeling ever sorry for him, wrote a ballad titled *The Desolate Nug* in tribute to him; the poem is so dour that Eristewig has never read it aloud to another person since he composed it in 9:33.

### Romance

* **N/A** - Eristewig enjoyed a few earnest flings during his nine years in Orlais, but much of his once-happy memories made in that time seem paler in hindsight now that he is fully aware of Orlesian society. Courtly love is a treasured part of both chivalric lore and lyric poetry, so Eristewig is certainly open to the idea of a dalliance with a lady of refinement, and while he would ideally involve a healthy buildup of chaste courting, he has often deigned to take what he could get in his rustic lifestyle.

### Allies

* **Several banns and freeholders in the Bannorn** - Eristewig's deeds in the Bannorn may not have earned him a name of wide renown, but they did not go unnoticed. He has earned the trust and respect of many banns and freeholders whom he has helped in his travels. While the lengths some of these men would go to should Eristewig come calling in favours is questionable, it would be wise for any party venturing into the vitriol of the Bannorn to bring him along.

### Rivals

* **De Champrouge family** - Though there are a few Orlesian nobles who sought to capture Eristewig during his flight from Orlais so they could obtain whatever valuable information he held, none wish to have him in their grasp more than the de Champrouge family of Ghislain, and they are far more interested in claiming bloody retribution than potent secrets. The Ghislainian guard captain that Eristewig blasted off a rooftop in self-defence was Marc de Champrouge; not only is "Iléternel Longue" wanted for the alleged murder of de Champrouge now that all of the Comtesse's doings are public knowledge, but the infamously hot-blooded Champrouges would surely be less than understanding of Eristewig's circumstances should they ever discover him.

## Personality

Eristewig has the heart of an idealistic adventurer hungry to prove his virtues in spite of his trappings, a knight errant without the official knighthood. The harsh and desolate life in Anderfels left him traumatised and restless, and the deceitful and dangerous games of Orlais left him spiteful of what he sees as “false, political chivalry”; thus, with his penchant for high, philosophical thinking, he has decided to become a hero who’s worth and legacy will not be judged by those who bestow him with land and titles, but by those folk in need who he helps in his journeys. He treasures - and befriends others who believe in - individuality and personal merit, harkening back to the more traditional heroic doctrine: Doing good for the benefit of those that good is done to, rather than for the benefit of he or she who does good.

Despite the obstacles in his great quest for heroic status - his apostatism, his lacking grasp of magic in both theory and spellcasting - he stays determined that he can take control of his legacy, just like the storied heroes he has idolised since childhood. However, circumstances often force him to use dishonourable tactics that he learned as a bard; ideally to help others when the situation grows undesirable, but commonly to protect himself. He is resentful of many things that comprise his lot in life, but in times of frustration, he tries to step back from his anger and see things from a broader perspective, to dissect them in a way that puts him more at ease. When he achieves such philosophical breakthroughs, or when he comes across anything one anyone that interests him, he composes a poem. After a little over two years in Ferelden, he has three full journals of lyric poetry, and would cross a freezing river in his drawers to keep them, no more willing to part with them than the children’s storybooks he has treasured like babes since he left the Anderfels. To him, all of these items are representative him as an individual, and contribute to who he his. He feels the content of his poetry books define his value as a person. He can go to obsessive lengths in recording and analysing relevant things, as he worries he is cursed with a poor memory. This is notably true, at least, for his memory of unpracticed skills, as he has forgotten most of the combat techniques that his bardmaster taught him, though this has been partially deliberate in Eristewig’s endeavour to move on from that chapter of his life.

While not arrogant of what he can do, he has high expectations for what he can become. He is totally convinced that will and wisdom will lead him to greatness, a vision that overshadows most of his setbacks. In a tough situation, he will brush aside any who do not conform to what believes to be the morally correct course of action. He does not, however, try to attack those who disagree with him, and is far more concerned with his own success than the failure of his rivals.

Around others, he usually behaves in a manner one would expect from a knight. He treats those who have yet to scandalize him with exemplary politeness; typical of an Ander, his faint smiles and cool demeanour to those he does know well can make him seem almost apathetic. He has a penchant for being very charming and courteous with women, regardless of how well he knows them, and it can be hard to determine when he is trying to garner interest or just being chivalrous. Anyone who he warms up to will see an equally warmer side to him. He has a measured staccato laugh that he stifles unless he deems it an appropriate time and place to properly cackle. When speaking with passion for whatever reason, his eyes light up with energy and his voice rises into its harsh but invigorated Ander accent. He has a dry sense of humour, and especially loves to poke fun at examples of hypocrisy. Though mannerly and usually discrete, he can be quite shameless in the questions he asks, unafraid to criticise someone if he thinks it will be constructive. However, tact is not beyond him, and he will wear whatever mask he needs to when dealing with a haughty individual if it helps him achieve his goals.

He hates Orlesian society with a passion, viewing it as a disease that tarnishes the country's own culture. He does not know much about the Circle of Magi, having never met a Circle mage outside of masquerade social conventions in Orlais. He is wary of the Chantry due to their close connections to Orlais and their ownership of the Templar Order, but believes that an institution driven by faith could hardly be too corrupt, and dreams that he could one day redeem himself to them and earn a dispensation. He is very fond of Fereldans, identifying with them in both his value for honour and his hatred of Orlais.

He enjoys explorative outings, singing and reciting poetry about courtly love and interesting experiences, and telling stories by campfire. Whenever he can, he tries to learn more about Circle magic, so he can inch his arcane powers a little closer to the skill set of a knight-enchanter.