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Here on Unbound, our plot follows four different timelines, set throughout the canonical history of the Dragon Age. The events following Trespasser, the time of the Inquisition, the rise of the Champion of Kirkwall and the quest of the Warden against the Fifth Blight.

And So is the Golden City blackened
With each step you take in my Hall.
Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting.
You have brought Sin to Heaven
And doom upon all the world.

-Threnodies 8.13

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as played by Alicia

14" posts


40, 10 Firstfall, 9:3 Dragon
moral alignment:
true neutral
sexual orientation:
apothecary / herbalist
family members:
Avra Virag, mother - unusually tall for a dwarf and a bastard at that, deceased
Harald, father - carpenter and debtor, deceased
Gulla, paternal aunt
weapon expertise:
archery (primary; + + +)
dual-wielding (secondary; + +)
poison-making (+ + + +)
herbalism (+ + + +)

Lara has never had any formal weapons training. Fighting has been for hunting or survival, sometimes earning a bit of coin, but little more. She is more of a jack of all trades, but not a master of anything.
hair color:
very dark brown, almost black
eye color:
dark brown
defining markings:
Her nose was never fully and properly set after it was broken several years ago.

Calloused hands hint at a life spent working hard with little rest. A collection of scars is inevitable from tussles and accidents over the years; one deep, unruly line can be found along her chin.
Lara’s no delicate flower, as someone cruel had once told her, but neither is she as sturdy as the stone whence she came. (Or so they say, but no stone ever helped her mother or her father or their mothers before them.) Her mind is sound, though occasionally it likes to remind her of things—memories, feelings, people—she’d rather forget entirely. Her physical health leaves some to be desired, but she is still fit for work and travel. It helps that potion-making isn’t so taxing on the body.
face claim:
elodie yung


“Are those really eyes?”

The boy was proving to be a daily nuisance since her timely arrival for Wintersend. Wandering through Markham in search of wares he couldn’t afford, likely after giving some elder and more responsible sibling a headache, he had first found the surly woman days before. Now, Lara glanced up to find him inspecting yet another jar she’d specifically asked him not to touch. With such a precarious grip, it was only moments before he dropped it like the last and cost her too many silvers.

“What’d I tell you about going through my things? Give it here.” She snatched it back unceremoniously, without waiting for him to graciously surrender it. It was now cradled gently against her chest while Lara’s glare cowed the child into taking a step back—but not into silence, which was the week’s greatest tragedy so far.

“I was just looking!”

A misstep, but certainly not his first: they never ‘just’ looked, did they? They looked, and they touched, and they took, and Lara had not spent her years weathering the storms to let some brat threaten her livelihood. These things never left her mind; she returned to her mortar and pestle quietly, letting the child fidget restlessly as he went without the answers he so craved. She could see him out the corner of her eye, tapping his chin as he watched her grind the herbs slowly but surely, with enough force to yield the finest powder. As the stone scrapped the bottom, he began pace, looking a bit ridiculous as he tried to mimic the habits of men.

Lara turned her head, the ghost of a smile on her lips. “Aye, those were eyes. Not human eyes, mind you. I’ll not take kindly to you spreading such tales to your friends.” It had occurred to her to frighten him a little, to tell him of a vengeful spirit that plucked the eyes out of misbehaving girls and boys, but she could find it in her to forgive his curiosity. A grating curiosity, one that a younger dwarf had shared once and that an older dwarf had little patience for now, but it was far better for him to question the world. He ought to question more quietly, but any world-weary soul could tell that he wouldn’t take such words to heart.

“Not that any of it’s your business,” she added, ever quick to draw more lines in the proverbial sand between them. There were never enough, especially not now. A child had no business poking around here, not even when she was elbows-deep in some poultices instead of a nasty little concoction.

She peered into the mortar and lightly shook it, displacing the powder and searching for any clumps with a critical eye. Lara could still hear him; it wasn’t the pacing anymore that gave away his presence, but rather the breathing. Curiosity, particularly a healthy curiosity, never grated so much as someone breathing over her shoulder (literally or not, it didn’t matter). Be it an upstart human who liked to hover too much over her, or a pesky wayward child, it had her on edge. There was no completing such a side-project with him around to unearth more newt’s eyes or, worse, something more sinister that could solve anyone’s problem of loud, heavy breathing, too much breathing and too much looking and a beating heart—

The pestle clinked against the mortar’s rim as she carelessly placed down her tools, for Lara much too vexed to be cautious anymore. She tried not to think about how she huffed too much like her father, a foolish man whom no one in their right mind would want to resemble. “Don’t you got somewhere to be?”

The boy might mistake her question, his mind filling and overfilling with thoughts centered on the festivities, but he was so thin, so poorly-fed, that she doubted he had any coppers to spare for any mouth-watering sweets or even the cheapest of the fortune-tellers and their cards. Lara had no need for words form some honey-tongued charlatan, and neither did a child who didn’t have the security of knowing where he’d find his next meal. Nay, Lara thought nothing of the colorful array of booths, the cacophonous mixing of voices from all over the Free Marches, but was so sure he had some mundane task to take care of, one that would take him elsewhere. Anywhere but here would suffice.

“You can’t be spending all your time here,” Lara said when he didn’t answer.

“Da says not to come back before dark,” He shrugged like it was nothing, “got to find more coins, and ‘sides, Marie said you’ve got more than eyes, and can’t you teach me sumthin like that anyway?”

As her eyes narrowed, Lara shifted herself to the left, deliberately blocking the view of her current project. “What, are you mad? I don’t do things for free, ever. You better get going if you’re getting those sorts of ideas.” Come back when you’ve got a pocketful of silvers, but he’d probably never see anything like that before he died, and even Lara wasn’t one to rub salt in the wounds of someone who didn’t know any better.

“I can help out…”

An extra pair of hands—untrained, prone to fumbling, and too fond of prying for his own good—would bring naught but trouble.

“I said no, didn’t I? Don’t test me, boy. You need to leave.”

There was no light in his eyes anymore.

“I said: leave.”
23 — est — discord
Seasoned roleplayer trying to ease back into writing. I tried Unbound several years ago but it was hard to find the time for it, but I’m glad to see it still going strong. I love Dragon Age like nobody’s business and I’ve been itching to do some roleplaying in the fandom lately. I’m hoping to get my fix here!
Jul 25 2017, 03:55 AM
as played by

0" posts


ACCEPTED! Welcome to Unbound. Now that your character has been accepted please make sure to fill out your claims (your claims are the FACE CLAIM, MEMBER DIRECTORY, CANON CLAIM (if applicable), and request a CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT folder so you have a place of your own to begin plotting. Also, join us off-board on our group DISCORD CHAT if you wish. Please remember that you cannot begin writing with your character until all their claims have been made.
Jul 25 2017, 04:44 AM
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