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Name: Aurelia de'Evermoore

Age: Unknown

Gender: Female

Appearance: Aurelia is tall, and at 5'10 is sometimes on par with some men, able to look them in the eyes. She isn't thin and willowly either, this woman does have some muscle on her. Her thick, auburn hair is cascades down her back only to be caught near the bottom with a green satin ribbon. Clear grey eyes stare out in a determined fashion from her tanned, oval face. Her nose is long, but is crooked, looking as if it had been broken in a fight. Her mouth is thin, but often has a cheerful smile or smirk upon it. Her shoulders are broad, which looks a little off with her slim waist and round hips. Being a tad odd herself, it isn't unusualto see Aurelia going around in men's breeches, prefering them to restricting skirts. She often has a weapon on her as well, usually a bow or some throwing daggers, since she knows there may well be a time when she cannot use the Power, for whatever reason. She just wants to be prepared.

Personality: Aurelia has odd mood swings. She can be hyper and bubbly one moment, and then be angry and spiteful the next. There seems to always be some emotion simmering behind her grey eyes, but whatever it is, she always keeps it in check. But truly, her loyalty could rival a hound's. She will always remian faithful, unless something happens to shake that faith. But it would have to be a big something, certainly. She's always had this fighting aura about her, and has learned to defend herself without the Power. Besides, she likes sharp, pointy objects.

History: Aurelia was brought in to become a novice when she was 15. She moved up quickly, but not so quickly as a peer of hers, one that went my the name Moendrelle. She befriended that one, intrigued by the girl's determination. The two were fast friends ever since, and the only thing Aurelia has ever envied Moendrelle for was her power. She was always stronger than Aurelia was, though Aurelia has never been seem as weak either. Theys pilt ways later after becoming Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah, but occasionally they wend letters to one another. 11 years after becoming an Aes Sedai, Aurelia finally bonded a warder, a big hulking man who goes by the name of Disan. She now enjoys being the a sitter and the Head of the Greens.

Thelderran Ir’Shander
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Primary Weapon: A pair of slender rapiers.
Secondary Weapon: A dagger and small buckler combination.

Description: Standing elegantly at a respectable six feet one inch, Thel’s graceful demeanor belied the well-honed body underneath the silk and leather. Slightly tanned skin and a well-tended complexion made him a sight to behold next to his companion. Long rust-colored locks of hair cascaded down from his head to his shoulders, down his back and between his shoulder blades. Deep green eyes, appearing to dance with delight at all things, looked from his face, the delicate pointed nose and perfectly trimmed moustache and beard accentuating his roguish smile.

Thel adorns a flowing white silken shirt, the top of the shirt open to reveal the ample muscles from his chest. Over that shirt is a bright red cloak flowing down to the small of his back, not very useful as a traveling cloak but fashion is something he enjoys considerably, and it helps him lure information that he seeks out of prattling ladies and duchesses.

Two loose belts hung from his swerving hips, dark brown leather with brass buckles, one depicting a horse’s head with a fluted horn on its forehead – a unicorn it is called, -- the other a serpentine creature’s head, its eyes appearing to teem with spite and malice. Upon each belt is one rapier, the first with a long feather-like depiction engraved in its slender yet long blade. The guard was of silver, the hand-guard molded to appear as though a silver leaf was twisted to shield the wielder’s hand from harm. The hilt was bound with criss-crossing blackened leather, well-tended and with a shine that constant careful use could only bring. The pommel was a silver acorn, molded apart from the steel blade locked within the hilt and guard.

The second rapier had a similar blade, though it was unadorned except for a nick near the top where he had deflected a trolloc’s spear with more than a little effort, for rapiers weren’t made for deflecting such bulky, brutish weaponry. The guard was of brass, the hand-guard crafted to appear as though a deer’s antlers are locked onto the hand wielding the weapon. The hilt was bound with one long strip of firm dark-brown leather, capped by the brass pommel carved into the likeness of a fawn’s head.

Under the bright red cape was a small unadorned buckler, thick enough to stop a spear from skewering it but definitely not large enough for such unpredictable combat. A quick slip f the hand slides it onto the forearm.

Thel’s breeches are of black leather, a series of jingle bells tied to a string along one of his legs as to alert all of his presence. His boots are turned down at the top and made of sturdy leather and look to have been worn on the bottom, the steel-tips having lost their luster from road dust and rain.
A dagger, the blade a foot and three inches long, was hidden in his right boot, the sheath sown into the leather of his boot for comfort.

Once the son of a wealthy noble family, Thelderran quickly grew tired of life being controlled and taught the ways of The Game, finding the life of a road-walking troubadour much more to his liking. Riding from place to place, weaving tales of grandeur from the many books he had read cover-to-cover in his family’s library. In the spirit of things, he is a gleeman.
To many street toughs and hard guardsmen, he would be considered a feminine man, to the nobility he is considered as a charmingly refreshing fellow.

Asthayanax (no longer uses his family name, which is Grendelbane)
Gender: Male
Age: 29
Primary Weapon: Steel gauntlet grafted to his right hand.
Secondary Weapon: the rest of his body, and a plain dagger.

Description: With a rigid stature of 5’10”, Asthayanax does not stand out in a group of people all that much. Were he wearing a cleaner set of clothing and in a less derelict state, he would seem like a strict soldier or some such figure. Ash’s general physical make-up is vulpine, square shoulder and an upright spine contrasting his sharp nose and piercing grey eyes flecked with blue, eyes that belong to a predator. Even his ears seem slightly pointed, though that might merely be the imagination of those who look upon them playing tricks, perhaps. Shock white hair covers his scalp, short and jagged in and upright fashion, belying his semi-young age, his skin hardened with his body’s muscles and overall stark appearance.

Ash sports a tight sleeveless deep blue coat, almost black, with a long collar that opens out to the sides. The coat itself has no fastening, letting his bare front exposed. Under the coat and around his abdomen is leather strapping resembling a girdle, dark brown and conditioned for long wear. It appears like banded mail, but of course doe not offer the same protection. It begins right above the groin area and ends under the abdomen. Over his right arm and shoulder is a cape of dark grey, almost pitch black fabric, dragging down almost to his feet. A silver disk with a worn out emblem is cuffed onto the front of the shoulder, a thick chain going around Ash’s neck to fasten it.

His breeches appear ordinary, a tanned color, widely baggy at the end and stuff into his boots, dark leather with sharp steel-tips.

An old and heavily worn gauntlet, it has seen many battles and thus has suffered the effects of time. It covers the entire hand as well as the wrist and a portion of the forearm. The entirety of the weapon’s inner structure is covered with an incredibly thin chain mail fabric, the links so small that it would take a gem cutter’s eyepiece to view them properly.

Coated black, the links appear pitch dark and unseen by a casual observer. It is quite flexible for the hand’s movement but is deceptively sturdy, able to prevent virtually any blade from cutting through.

The fingers are covered in blackened pieces of indiscernible metal, molded to have small, sharpened spikes jutting forward. The fingertips are capped with such pieces, fitting perfectly though rounded and without any jutting protrusions. Rounded rings, strangely malleable to allow fluid movement of the fingers and hand, safeguard the joints connecting each bone in the fingers.

Each knuckle has a wider ring placed upon each that is set into the chain mail itself, with a metal piece capping each of them. These have larger, slightly longer protrusions for greater effect.

The back of the hand has one large blackened piece of plating, molded to look like a jagged, sharper version of a human’s backhand, with slight grooves over each nerve ending connecting to the knuckles for added protection.

A series of bands made from the same metal are set on the wrist and the remainder of the gauntlet, up to the end. Over the forearm piece is a plain-looking armguard, quite like a bracer one would use to deflect a sword’s blows. The entirety of the weapon neither is without any discernible markings, nor are there any hidden within the weapon’s multitude of parts.

The dagger strapped to his leg is of crude design, a blade nearly two thirds of a foot long with horned steel cross guard and handle all molded from the same crucible. Over the steel handle is a thick strip of felt, the texture helpful for gripping if the wielder has sweat or blood-covered hands. The blade itself is notched in many places.

Those with a strong sense of empathy or a knack for character-profiling can clearly see from his sharp eyes the dark brooding that turned in upon it from within. His beliefs were radical, unlike anything that the commoners, nobles or even the wise of this world could appreciate or comprehend. His mind seems to constantly be on the brink of madness, but hardness around its edges always keeps it in check, a strict mindset that would not be expected from him.

He had grown alone, an orphan in the streets of Tear. He had seen what death was at a very young age, twisting him into a state of near-traumatic stress. This brought out a fighting instinct from within, a need to live and get away from that fate. Soon he grew hard, cunning, and dangerous. It gave him a new perspective on life, as well as death. Since then he had been traveling randomly, finding mercenary work and other miscellaneous venues to keep his meager life last as long as he could. It was not long after he had met Thelderran, who since then had become the opposite of Asthayanax, the Saidin to his Saidar, though neither is a woman of course. The means of which he had received that strange gauntlet of his is obscure.

(Edited to add the second charaacter)

((I guess its just post and start then?))
Name: Topaz Briar
Age:18
Gender: Male
Allegiance: The Black Tower
Minor Allies: The White Tower, and 'unknown'
Weapons: Assoted Daggers, Assorted Hammers
Backup weapons: Hatchets and whatever he was working on last
One power: Yes, horribly mistrusts it, but yes
Personality: Stubborn, Faithful, Traditional
Physical Description: About 6' high, seems to bend over a bit reducing his height though due to his hours at the forge. Wears either layers of green fabrics or leather forge equipment. Jet black har and eyes that never seem to stay the same color adorn his face.
Job Description: A resident smithy, not the head smith yet, but a favored smith. Although he refuses to weild the one power openly, something about his blade seems to draw them to the one power. Unlike his peers, he prefers to create an entire assortment of axes, swords, pikes, spears, daggers, maces, and more rather than just stick to one type to specialize in. He retains one of the few mobile forges and travels with the troops to repair and create on the go.
Combat Style: although a maker of weapons, he prefers the defensive side and to use endurance in battle as his weapon of choice. His main downfall is mainly the fact that he will not leave a comrade behind, no matter the consequences, unless doom is enevitable.
Military: He can channel and the others know it. The fact that he refuses the power makes the powerless cringe and the powerful confused. He refuses to train his power past control. But he has had a few moments of emotion where it let rip a tide strong enough to shatter metal and liquify flesh. His lack of use and mistrust of the power keeps most of the mental side effects away, while he is peaceful.
Other: His allegiances to both towers puts him at risk, but his dedication to the Black Tower leaves the White tower wary of the wares he sometimes send their way. He would never betray any of the organizations he likes if he could help it, but will follow his current masters ahead of the rest.