|Amalea Díaz de Vivar|
|Hometown||Antiva City, Antiva|
|Behind the Mask|
There was a time when a five foot nine Antivan woman would blend in with the crowd. This was of course in a city filled with other Antivans. Considering she spent ten years on the streets of Antiva City, her physique is more athletic than most. Because nothing beats a workout of running away from angry pseudo Spanish people. Four years of an improved lifestyle have brought with it a healthier build that barely shows a long battle against the approach of starvation.
Her black hair is kept short enough to be manageable, covering her ears but not quite managing to reach the top of her neck. Several small braided sections are the only indication that she cares about her hair at all. Her brown eyes retain the same determination that she carried since she was forced to leave her familial home. Rarely is a smirk or grin off her face, whether this be for genuine contentment, or the result of another sarcastic comment.
She shows very little of her father in her, perhaps content merely to share the gift of magic.
Knows better than anyone that the combination of robes, staves and magics leads to uncomfortable questions and generally eternal imprisonment. With that in mind, she tends to wear light clothing, forgoing anything remotely dress like. A longcoat replaces the traditional robe in her arsenal, which is the only luxury she has ever let herself spend on. Two shoulder plates represent the extent of armour on her person. A single band of cloth wrapped around her upper right arm is the only thing out of place, but it apparently holds some value to her.
As a sign that she no longer must hide in the streets (or a particular like of the colour. How should I know? … Wait.), her clothing tends to be bright coloured. Particularly red.
A single talisman of luck hangs around her neck.
Amalea arrived in Kirkwall lacking the traditional mages staff. She instead uses a collapsible staff, trading the lack of inate magical power for its familiarity.
A woman who, despite everything that life has had to throw at her, still has faith in the concept of luck. And because of that upbringing, she is quick to throw out a sarcastic interpretation of any troubles that come her way, with an accompanying downplaying of the seriousness of any given problem in her way.
Prefers to be known by her nickname. And rarely if ever will tolerate her full name being said.
Few things are more spiteful than luck. One person's good fortune is quite often the bane of some other poor sod.
So it was when a freak storm struck the coast of Antiva. True, this did lead to the sinking of a transport ship and the complete loss of its cargo. It was rather nice cargo too, and the ship itself wasn't half bad. But in so doing, the crew of the aforementioned ship were unable to leave the port. And because of that, Amalea's father was able to meet her mother.
We should be precise here. Amalea's mother was a member of a merchant family who ran a regular route trading to Ferelden. The aforementioned storm made this rather difficult. As all sailors do when they meet misfortune, she drowned her sorrows in drink at one of Antiva City's surprisingly numerous pubs.
And it was there that she met Amalea's father, or rather father to be. We haven't got that far ahead in the tale yet. Nor will we describe the process. That would just be crass. Suffice to say, he was a Ferelden man with roots in the Anderfels, who travelled to Antiva City for learning, for excitement… Unfortunately, he was soon to find out that freedom has its price. And that Antiva City was no more welcoming of an apostate mage than any other city he had been to.
For her mother, we imagine it must have been a shock when one night in the tavern with her illicit lover, their quality time was interrupted by a group of Templars entering the drinking hole and attempting to arrest him. We imagine it might have been more of a shock when he fought back with fireballs. Then again, are we qualified to know what Antivan women think? No, we are not.
Her lover taken to the Circle Tower, it was a rather awkward night with the family when she had to explain not only that her latest paramour had been taken away by heavily armed knights, but that he had also left her several months pregnant with the child of an apostate. You know, one of those routine family moments.
To their credit, the family did not immediately disown her, and when Amalea was born and lived ten years without a single sign of magic, you could be forgiven for thinking that everything worked out well for the child. It did not. Because nothing is more vindictive than luck. The next time that her mother went out sailing, the storm was not quite as lenient as it had been a decade before. And the benefactors this time were her Grandparents, who took this moment to excise a potential magic user from the family.
It was on her second night on the streets that Amalea learned that there might have been a reason for fearing her. Because the first pickpocket who saw fair game in a ten year old girl reached out to grab her and rob her… and the hand that was extended was retracted with a screech of disbelief as it was frozen solid.
Luck was always a prominent part of Amalea's life. For six years she held on to that belief that no matter how bad her circumstances became, luck would get her out of it. And luck was kind. No demons capitalized on her lack of formal training. No out of control explosions rocked the docks while she worked whatever menial jobs she could find to avoid starvation. Her magic never failed her against the predators of the city of vice and sin. Most importantly, while she was not too proud to beg, she never had to beg the family that threw her out to take her back.
Sixteen marked the first turning point. It was then that she encountered a man in the streets whom she attempted to steal from. As she reached out, her hand struck against thin air and would move no further towards him. He didn't even seem to notice or care about her presence. But to Amalea, this was a challenge. And challenges had to be met. She reached out, calling as much of her power as she was capable of doing without causing a massive disturbance… and passed through the invisible barrier to take his wallet.
This got his attention. Oh yes. And as Amalea set off into the shadows to escape, he set off in pursuit. As soon as they were out of the sight of people, the confrontation began. Her path was cut off by a wave of ice. Now she knew that she was in trouble. Her hand lit up with crimson flame, and she parted the wall with a blast of fire. But there was no escape for her.
With fury in his eyes, he approached. But fury left him open to mistakes, and as he attempted to encase her in a Crushing Prison, Amalea lashed out. Just like her first encounter all those years before, her hand caught his wrist… and froze it solid.
In his blinding rage, in his confusion and in his pain, Amalea could have finished him in any way she wanted. But she simply watched on in horror as he fell backwards, the ice growing across his form. In moments, he was encased within crystalline ice… and very irrevocably dead.
Luck had saved her once again, but as always it was tainted with tragedy. But the dead are dead. And he did try to kill her. We should stress that part. She looked through his belongings, and found coin. Coin of a likes she had never seen before. To kill anyone carrying this much money would be bad news. But for it to be a mage... She had no idea what she was getting into, but with that money she could finally live like a normal person...
For six more years, she lived in Antiva City. Knowing now the power she wielded, she joined mercenary groups. Where there are mercenary groups, there are often apostates. And from them, she learned control. True control. One in particular told her tales of the cities of the Free Marches while instilling within her the knowledge of the Force Magics. For her, life was looking up again…
Until the single incident one year ago that forced her to leave Antiva City for good. With whatever she had left, she set sail for the Free Marches. For her, her luck might change in a new land… or it might go horribly wrong.
But perhaps the name she gave the shipping manifest says it all…