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name: Solas nickname(s): Fen’Harel, Apostate Hobo, Dread Wolf, Chuckles, Baldy age: Unknown (1500+) species: Elven

personal

morality: lawful / neutral / chaotic / good / grey / evil

religious belief: None sins: lust / greed / gluttony / sloth / pride / envy / wrath virtues: chastity / charity / diligence / kindness / humility / patience / justice primary goals in life: To reverse what he did to the Evanuris, and by extension, the Elven people and the world. languages known: Common, Elven secrets: That he is the Dread Wolf, that he was the one who let Corypheus obtain the Foci, that he created the Veil, the Eluvians are his, Flemeth is Mythal, Whatever the Elven artifacts we activated in Inquisition are not to strengthen the Veil I’m sure, That he’s an ancient Elvhen, that he’s an Evanuris, that he even needs a staff to perform magic, this list would go on for forever I’m sure. quirks: no hair ever, paints elven frescoes, hates caffeine and caffeinated tea, always barefoot and hates shoes, nerd savvies: magic, conversing with spirits, walking the Fade, painting, talking, stories

physical build: slender / average / bony / fit / athletic / curvy / herculean / baby fat / pudgy / obese / heavyset / pear-shaped / beer belly / other height: 5′6 weight: ~115 scars/birthmarks: A few here and there, none that are terribly specific restrictions: None

favorites food: Frilly Orlesian Cakes drink: warm milk and honey music genre: Anything without singing, but he appreciates Maryden’s talent book genre: history or historical documents season: Winter curse word: Fenedhis, fenedhis lasa (Equivalent to “shit” or “dammit”) scent: Earthen smells, herbs and spices, petrichor

fun stuff bottom or top: Both? He doesn’t concern himself a ton with it loud burper or soft burper: Usually comes out as a small hiccup sings in the bath: No

likes bad puns: He’ll sort of snicker at some, and others he’ll be delighted at wordplay their opinion on the mun: “???”

   The food and drink are all laced with small amounts sleeping draught.    Not enough to knock the woman out, but enough to make her sleepy    in the next few hours and send her off to bed. Several servants had    come to her concerned--the Inquisitor rarely finished her food, and    seemed to always be busy and awake. So they send the head healer    instead. The tray is set upon the desk, covering scattered papers.

“I am not without my mercies, vhenan.”

         She very tightly held on to the nug that wriggled around in her arms. A defiant smile graced her lips as pride shown in her eyes. She hadn’t minded the looks shot her way as she paraded her new pet through Skyhold, because they didn’t have a pet nug. 

❝ Sometimes, I forget that I am not mortal, not an elf despite how hard I masquerade to be. I am a creature of rage, of burning fire and choking ash. I was put on this world simply to destroy the enemies of my captors, and I have been such a weapon for centuries. I have no where to call home - no where save the encirclement of your arms.