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 Posted: Mon Sep 06, 2004 9:13 am
Controlled by Liana
Name: Liana Alliendra Deistar.
Gender: Female.
Age: Unknown.
Origin: Arad Doman.
General Appearance: Though she posses the slim curves of her homeland, Liana did not quite inherrit the height, and tends to be a little on the short side for someone of her birthright. What she lacks in stature she tends to make up for in intimidation. Power Wielding asside, she posses the mood-shifting ability of a firecracker, which is often reflected in her eyes. Aes Sedai calm is often a lost concept for Liana. Sometimes it's just easier to get what you want by yanking really hard on your Warder's moustaches... Basic description runs as follows:
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 129 lbs.
Eyes: Blue-grey.
Hair: Black; generaly woven into a thick braid that hangs down her back.
Style of Dress: Typical of her Ajah and culture, most of Liana's outfits consist of thin clingy material that leaves little to the imagination, low necklines, and bold colors. A belt of woven silver links adorns her waist, where her purse and a small dagger hang.
Character Type: Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah.
Skills/Talents: Liana works well with Water. She is next strongest in Air, and unusualy strong with Fire for a female Channeler. She can barely use Earth at all, and Spirit comes only slightly easier than that. She has a Talent for Cloud Dancing(The ability to control the weather using Air, Water and Fire. Weak Cloud Dancers can cause showers of rain, but stronger ones can create anything up to a tornado or thunderstorm) and has a small ability in Healling/Delving. Illusion weaves come fairly easily too, though she rarely uses them except to disguise herself and others.
Relation to Other Character(s): Bonded to Fakali Doberler, Asha'man of the Black Tower.
Item(s) Used/Carried & What They Do: Small ornate dagger carried at her hip that looks far too decorative to use, saddlebags filled with food stuffs, clothes, parchment, ink, quill, and various correspondence. Nothing significant.
History: Liana was raised in a small province just outside Bandar Eban, by her foster parents Terin and Karalina Deistar. Her own mother had been an Aes Sedai who'd had no time to give a child the proper care and attention necessary, and so had given her daughter to her oldest friends. They themselves had only one son, Liana's step-brother Daillan, and had lavished their love on their foster-daughter.
Liana's childhood was unremarkable. She spent her time helping with household chores, rough housing with her brother, and being disciplined for minor transgressions. Upon reaching her tenth nameday, Liana was told of her mother, who she'd been and what that had meant. Dispite reasurance of how much her mother had loved her, Liana faced this new reallization with a grim sense of abandonment and inadequecy.
Strong willed and determined, Liana began to focus all her energies into perfecting her skills at everything...whether it was the time it took to wash a pile of dishes, to her accuracy at throwing knives at knotholes in trees, to beating her brother on the race home from the fish market. It is this intense determination to prove her self-worth that drives her fiercly competitive and determined personality. All this was tempered with compassion and fierce sense of loyalty however, showing itself whenever she was around Daillan.
Her brother was slow, dull witted. For all his age, his mentality was that of a young child, which frustrated people, made them laugh at his supposed idiocy. Liana was the one to look after him, and kept anyone from mocking his condition. Wherever one was to be found, there the other would be.
The discovery of Liana's ability to Channel was fairly typical. When she began to near her twentieth nameday, a stranger arrived to the village. Corrienne Sedai went through the houses, speaking with the young girls in the village, testing them for the ability to Channel. When Liana met with her, she was surprised to find the potential in this girl astonishingly high. She could learn yes, but how far she went would depend mostly on Liana's will power.
When Liana was told, she neither denied the possibility nor gloated over it. Simply nodded and asked when they would leave. Packing her things, she bid a tearful farewell to those she loved, and set off on the long road to Tar Valon and the Shawl.
Many years later, through what most termed sheer stuborness, Liana white-knuckled her way through her final test. She was officially Liana Sedai of the Green Ajah.
Her first years were spent in the Tower, soaking up Aes Sedai politics, learning Green Ajah secrets, making beginings on her own series of Eyes and Ears, and studying hard to learn all she needed to know. Then she took to the road, travelling the world in an attempt to free herself from the Tower a little...it had become smothering, and she wanted to be her own person. Liana Sedai and Liana from Arad Doman were so different. Trying to make them one was hard to do with so many Sisters pulling her in so many directions, dragging her into their plots.
And one night, she found herself home.
She entered the city of Bandar Eban, only to find a message from the Amyrlin instructing her to research a small statue attatched to the missive, wrapped in cloth. Already tired and low-spirited, the extra task did not please Liana. But none the less, tucking the statue into her purse, she set off for the city library.
And there, lost amid her dusty volumes and grumblings, she met Fakali Doberler.
Eventually, as was inevetable to any who knew them, Liana bonded him as her Warder. They returned together to the White Tower, where Doberler recieved training in the sword, and Liana went about her Aes Sedai business. They spent many evenings together in which he taught her how to better protect herself without the use of the Power, and she instructed him in Tower politics. They made a good team, working well together.
Time passed, and Doberler was recruited for the Black Tower. Knowing the consequences of not being able to control the Power, and knowing no other way to keep from losing her only truly trustworthy friend, Liana consented to release him into Asha'man hands.
When he returned, their relationship became strained. Asha'man black changes a man; Fakali became cold, distant, and mistrustful of all Aes Sedai, including his own. It became very necessary to hide his status of Asha'man from the other Sisters.
The two Bonded seemed to spend more time arguing than anything else, much to the consternation and annoyance of those around them. It is hoped that they will sort their problems out before they drive everyone in the group to smother them in their sleep.
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Posted: Mon Sep 06, 2004 9:14 am
Name: Tarma Falloner.
Age/Gender: 30/Female.
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 135 lbs/slim, toned build.
Eye color: Blue.
Hair color: Black.
Distinguishing Features: A short white scar cuts her left eyebrow in two, looking as though whatever weapon caused it barely missed her eye. Her nose, once petite, looks as though it has been broken in the past and not healed quite straight. Despite this, the woman is not totaly unfortunate looking, with her high cheek bones, thick inky lashes, fair skin, and not completely unfeminine build inspite of the well toned muscle garnered from a soldiers life along the Blight. Her voice has an odd metalic burr to it, a subtle ring of command that she attempts to tone down in everday conversation, but slips occasionaly. A silver hoop hung with a small bead of obsidian hangs from her left earlobe. Her style of dress usualy consists of men's clothing; breeches and boots, both in soft black leather, a loose white shirt with a fitted black waistcoat that is embroidered in tiny silver lillies along the hemlines.
Character Type: Primarily a military woman; Jane-of-All-Trades as necessary.
Skills/Talents [List weapon skills/carried]:
Swordswoman: Though this is the art into which she was born, the art for which she swore her life to, and subsequently the art in which she excells, you will no longer see Tarma carry nor weild a sword. Like many things, there is a story there, but one she will not willingly share.
Bladework: Despite her refusal to pick up a sword, Tarma can and will use her weapon of choice: daggers. The throwing blades she uses were forged by her own hand, well-balanced blades fitted perfectly to her hands, with custom black laquered hilts. How many of these she truly carries is uncertain; it seems the woman is always pulling one from somewhere the eye cannot follow.
Archery: Our well-rounded soldier is also a fair shot with a bow and arrow, though it is not her weapon of choice.
Quarterstaff: Aye, and she knows one end of a staff from the other too. Quite the talented little weaponsmistress, our Tarma.
Harp: Ornately carved in polished oak that never loses it's fine sheen under Tarma's watchful care, the instrument has a deep, pleasant sound to it. It was crafted by her Gleeman father's hands, and he played it until the day he left, leaving it in hers. It is the only item of sentiment she carries, and it would be more than your life was worth to bring harm with it.
Rudimentary Field Skills: These are skills all soldiers posses in a certain degree; forestry, tracking, hunting, cooking, caring for minor wounds and broken limbs. She rides well enough to keep her saddle in battle; that logic applies to all tasks Tarma sets herself to. The woman is as good as a situation requires her to be...even when she's not.
Relation to Other Character(s) [If Any] [This includes Relations between Aes Sedai/Asha'man and Warders]: Traveling companion to all; sparring partner to some; thorn in the side of a few; friend to those she considers trustable.
Item(s) Used/Carried & What They Do [If Any]:
Daggers: Stabs things, cuts things, slices things, skins things, maims things...very multi-purpose tools really. Designed to be thrown, or used in hand-to-hand combat. She'd have me note that 'things' really ought to be substituted with 'people'...
Harp and Case: Plays pretty tunes in the right hands. And by that she means her hands. Obviously.
Knapsack: Termed by a friend of mine as the "Magic Knapsack"; full of all sorts of useless, and very occasionaly useful, random junk. The woman can pull just about anything out of this thing, the more recent being things like spare clothes or blankets, food rations and the like. Basic supplies type idea, but God knows what I might decide to throw in with GM approval...the only definitive items, are a letter and a signet ring wrapped in oil cloth, which are sewn into the lining of the pack for safe keeping.
History: It was on a spring morning when a baby girl was born to an impoverished family, on a small farm in the Plain of Lances in Kador. Her mother, a pretty local girl named Karen, had been gifted with the patch of land as her dowry when she married a Gleeman by the name of William Falloner, whom everyone around the village had come to know as Will over the many months he'd stayed in order to court Karen. The chose to name the baby Tarma, after Karen's mother.
Years passed. The little girl grew under the watchful eyes of her parents, the teasing looks of two older brothers named Thom and Jamie, and the adoring gaze of a massive sheepdog called Puddle. The Troubles of the Border seemed so far removed from little Tarma's life when she played in the snow blanketing the fields, tracked her brothers through the woods, or sat having her hair brushed by the fire after her bath at night, while Papa played and Mama sang softly. Life was sweet and simple in childhood. It was a gift she learned to cherrish in the years to come.
Times were hard, had always been hard along the Blighted lands; but this season had been far worse than the last. They'd lost half the crop to a winter storm fiercer than any the little girl could recall. Tarma didn't mind not eating as well as they were used to, not the way her brothers did; but she minded the worried look in her mother's eyes, and the tightness in her fathers expression as he stared into the fire in the evenings. There were no songs any longer, no singing; no joy.
Thom, being the eldest, left to join the Kandori Legion. Portions of his salary arrived every month, and the family were greatful. Jamie took it upon himself to let out as a hired hand, aiding the farmers nearby to bring in their crops and feed their livestock. One morning her left for work, and didn't return at night fall. He'd never arrived at his destination. Bandits were blamed, and the family wept, mourning his loss; but secretly, deep down they all knew Jamie had run off to seek a better life.
A short time after, Thom came home to visit a while. The weary-eyed, self-possesed man who came home was not the same boy who had once called her names and pushed her in the snow. Fascinated, Tarma began to spend her hours with her brother, listening to stories, beging him to tell her about fighting the Shadow. No matter how he tempered his stories with warnings of the horrors, the young woman his sister had grown into was enthralled. Eventually, he gave up on disuading her, and returned to the capital to rejoin his regement.
A month later, an officially sealed letter from Chachin informed them that their Thom had fallen in combat. Broken hearted over the loss of another child, Karen took to her bed, ill and weeping. It was Tarma's father, Will, who took the burden of the farm on then and, with no sons to help him, it drove him into the ground.
Late one night, while his wife slept in a rocking chair by the fireplace with her daughter's head in her lap, old Will pressed his most prized possesion into the sleeping girls hands, and left their lives without a goodbye.
Karen raised her daughter alone, and without regret. Though the young Tarma believed bitterly that the man who had she'd once called father had abandoned them under the preasure of working a profit less farm, her mother would only smile gently and admonish that her father's wandering spirit had never been truly chained here; her mother was simply grateful he had stayed so long. Unable to face the thought that her mother had married a man she'd never expected to remain with her in accordance with his vows, Tarma refused to discuss the subject further.
When she came of age, Tarma ignored her mother's protests and followed the dream she had harbored since childhood; signing on with the Kandori Legion was the only path she ever wanted to take, and she was adamant about walking it.
She was assigned to the Red Stallion squadron, and trained under the watchful eyes of Sargeant Jha'ad Nazir. She and the rest of her class learned swordwork, archery, hand to hand combat and wrestling; they learned to ride, swim, run, jump...they learned how to survive. No task master was ever so fierce as Jha'ad was on his pupils. Especially on the willowy young strippling Falloner, the only female in his squad. Tarma despised the man intesely, and most especially during their one-on-one workouts in the practice yard. The man would work her up one side of the court and down the other, leaving bruises every time the left herself open to a switch from the practice blade.
When one afternoon of torture was finaly done, Tarma sank down against the stone wall of the keep, panting heavily. Jha'ad, a giant of a man at 6'5" and wide as a house, crouched beside her, leaning against the wall companionably. It took her a moment to look past her seething hatred of him to realize his breathing was as labored as hers. Puzzled, she glanced at him. Then he did something she'd never seen him do; he smiled at her, and all at once became the most dashing man she'd ever met.
"Do you know why I'm so bloody hard on you, girl?"
His gruff voice startled her, and she shrugged slightly, stretching out her legs carefully so that her muscles wouldn't cramp up. She was still puzzled, and not sure why he was suddenly acting like he had a personality.
"Because of just that; yer a girl. I know you got what it takes...I seen 'em go through this rigmarole year after year, recruitin', trainin', fightin'. You're a first fer me though. Ain't never had a girl before. Figure they're gonna be harder on you. Not the Shadowspawn, mind you. They'll kill anything, don't matter diddly t'them. But Commanders, Officers, yer fellow classmates even; till you prove other wise, they're all gonna be harder on yeh, not cuttin' you slack or givin' you more'n women's work to do."
He spat disgustingly, and the enthralled young woman looked at him in fascination. For the first time, she recognised her mentor as a person, as a man with motives behind the hell he'd put her through. And she could admit that his attentions had done her good; she was top of her class at swordwork, and not one of the taller, stronger men could touch her at wrestling. The soldier grinned at his pupil, and she smiled back. It was the start of the first real friendship Tarma had ever known, and the strongest tie that would bind her to her duty.
After five years of Border duty, she recieved her first promotion. In six she'd recieved her second, and a small command that became known as Falloner's Hawks. By the time she was twenty five, the woman had more military experiance under her belt than most men of fifty. The higher-up's knew her, and the men-at-arms respected her. She spent her evening meals with Jha'ad most nights; then she began to spend her nights with him. If anyone commented on the pairing, they did so out of earshot.
After a particularly nasty, but successful coop fought alongside Saldaean troops where their borders meshed, the twenty-nine-year-old warrior found herself raised to the rank of General. A few of the gentry protested that not only was it unfitting for a woman to lead entire armies, but to have one so young was completely unacceptable. The support of the men-at-arms however, lay with Tarma. This loyalty grounded her, and made her whole. No family would ever be closed to her than the men she lead.
Just months after her promotion, Tarma and her Hawk regiment were recouperating in a Border keep when she recieved reports of Darkfriend activity in a nearby village. Confering with her Captain that the men would manage this one small jaunt, Tarma mounted up and rode out with her men.
When they reached the village, all was silent. Unknowing, they rode into the village proper, watchful and uneasy. A man at the rear gave a sudden cry, all the warning they had before the trolloc hoards swarmed out from the doorways and between the houses in a wave of pungent death.
It was over in moments. Taken almost completely unaware, not a single man survived. If they did not die out-right, their wounds killed them. Pulling herself from beneath her fallen horse, nursing broken ribs and a fractured arm, as well as some severe cuts to her thigh from the Trolloc pole-hook that had pulled her down in the first place, Tarma captured a remaining mount and fled from the scene, knowing that if the pursuing Shadowspawn hoard caught up to her, she would not live a second time.
The broken woman who entered the keep all but falling from the saddle was not that same woman who had ridden out that morning. Her recovery was painful, slow, and fever-ridden; it was believed by most that she would die. Jha'ad stayed by her side, and for that she was grateful. But he could not dislodge the guilt that riddled her being. If she had been more prepared, if she had used her good judgement and seen it for the trap it was...if she had simply waited till her men were rested, perhaps they might yet be alive.
Unable to face the burden of those ghosts under the eyes of the remaining Legion, Tarma gathered her things one night and fled, leaving nothing but her sword and a short letter for Jha'ad, explaining why she would not be returning.
Her self imposed exile took her through the Borderlands into the Waste. She spent a little time with the Aiel, before passing back over the Spine of the World into Cairhien, and onto Far Madding, having no real direction to follow. It was there on the Plains of Moredo that she first encountered a group of travelers without a name, just band of people fighting for the Light in the name of the Dragon. Part of her was drawn to these people, and for the first time in a year, she found herself struggling with a fierce need to belong, to be loyal to a cause once more and fight the Shadow.
To this day, she is still struggling, both with the past and the present, trying to discover who she is, and what destiny the Pattern will Weave for her.
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Posted: Mon Sep 06, 2004 9:15 am
Controlled by Kudos Das
Character Name: Denath Guir
Character Type: Adventurer
Character Age: 18
Character Gender: Male
Skills/Talents:
Although young, Denath is accounted as one of the most skilled quarter staff wielders in all of the Two Rivers. He also has great skill with a Two Rivers bow, although it is not as highly regarded as his skill with a staff. Denath also carries a short sword given to him by his father. He knows enough not to stab himself with it although against a skilled opponent luck is all that will keep him alive.
Like most boys in the Two Rivers, Denath grew up in the woods around his home. Although his skills in the wild would not be of much talk within the Two Rivers itself, outside his skill is something that most people marvel at. He can hunt and track almost anything without being seen or heard, and is quite capable of survivng on his own in the wild for long periods of time.
Relation to Other Character(s):
Although Denath is friendly towards all the members of the strange group of Aes Sedai, Warders, Asha'man, warriors and fellow adventurers and would trust any of them with his life he looks up to Jazral, the warder of Selene Sedai, as a father figure and mentor.
Item(s):
Asides from his staff, his bow and his father's short sword Denath carries very little with him. He carries the bare nessecities of any traveller or woodsman, such as a flint, hunting knife, a pot for cooking, whet stone, etc in a tattered pack, anything of value having been stolen early on in his travels. He also wears an old pendant around his neck with and eagle on one side and a faint inscription on the other.
History:
Growing up on his family farm in the Two Rivers, Denath Guir's mind seldom dwelt on fighting trollocs or travelling with Aes Sedai save during his adventures in the West Wood as a young boy. The third eldest of four brothers and two sisters, Denath enjoyed a healthy balance between work and play, his two older brothers Devin and Sean more than capable of helping their father with most of the chores of the farm. As he grew older Denath spent less time playing in the West Wood and more time watching over his younger brother Tom and his two younger sistsers, Manesha and Lillian.
Located between Watch Hill and Tarren Ferry, the Guir family has a large peice of land boardering the West Wood on which they grow mainly tabac. Although most people in the Two Rivers considered it to be part of Terren Ferry the Guir farm is actually closer to Watch Hill, a constant source of irritation for Arthem Guir, Denath's father, due to the reputation Tarren Ferry has amoungst other Two Rivers folk.
Having two older brother's gave Denath the excuse to squeeze out of most of the work on the farm and venture into the West Wood to play more seldom than not. He would often dream about travelling far and wide, pretending to be the hero in some Gleeman's tale. As with most boys Denath learned for an very early age how not to be seen or heard while playing childhood games amoungst the trees. As he grew older he learned how to track and hunt prey, as well as what the land provided for his every need. A good shot with both bow and sling Denath often accompanied his father and elder brothers when they went hunting for game. He was often scolded for allowing himself to become so absorbed in his own thoughts that deer could walk right past him without him even noticing, though his skill with a bow when he was actually paying attention usually brought home food more often than not.
Life for Denath was spent mostly under the trees and or on farm, with the occasional journey to Tarren Ferry or Edmonds Field though his mind often turned to thoughts of leaving the Two Rivers. Nothing seemd to dismiss the assumption that life would seemingly continue as it always had in the Two Rivers, nor any chance arise for the younger Guir to anything beyond the Tarren. But the Wheel weaved things that no one expected it to, things that would change the Two Rivers forever.
When news of the first Trolloc raid spread most counted themselves lucky that they had not been in the Edmonds Field at the time, wraping themselves in the belief that the danger had passed. This illusion soon vanished. Refugees began to appear with increasing frequency, each brining more troubling news than the last. Tales of the Dragon Reborn and of strange invaders form across the sea soon gave way to concerns over to the White Cloaks terrorizing the Two Rivers, hunting Dark Friends and Lord Perrin, and later the Trollocs that once again ravaged the Two Rivers.
Deanth, Devin, Senn and their Father were amoungst those that went to fight besides the people of Edmonds Field, experiencing the horror of the trollocs and battle first hand. The Guir family emerged from the fighting relativly unscathed, Devin being the only one to be badly injured, a trolloc blade nearly slicing off his left arm. Thanks to Aes Sedai healing all that remained of the wound was a deep scar rather than a lost limb. The Guir's return home, their minds on replanting and rebuilding their lives after the White Cloaks burnt their crops to the ground when Arthem refused to give them his horses and winter stores.
With the Trollocs beaten and the White Cloaks driven out life seemed almost to return to normal. But for Denath, the events had caused the need to leave the Two Rivers not to lessen, but to pulse with an even brighter feverish intensity. After much persuasion his father agreed to allow him to leave, realizing that the boy would leave with or without his permission. Giving him his sword and helping him pack items of nessesity, Deanth's father waved good bye to his son and hoped to the Light that the Creator would see him home safetly.
Too late to leave along side Lord Perrin and the other Two Rivers men Denath set out on his own. Refusing to take on of the few remaining horses, Denath promised his father that he would trade some of the family's tabac for a mount as soon as he reached Baerlon. However, Denath soon found that conditions were even worse outside the Two Rivers, even the large bundle of Two Rivers tabac not enough for him to afford even a few nights stay at an over crowded inn.
Disheartened and lonely Denath made his way towards White Bridge, meeting up with a fellow traveler called Lenn. The two traveled together for a few days, the elder Lenn providing Denath with the companionship he desired. Lenn went so far as to offer to show Denath a path that would take them all the way to White Bridge without having to follow the road, avoiding the highwaymen and other similar types that were in great abudance during such dark time. With no reason to not trust the man Denath followed Lenn into the wild.
Unfortunatley for Deanth the elder Lenn was not exactly as genuine as he first appeared. Three days after leaving the road the path ended, all that lay before them was a swift flowing river with no signs of being able to cross the raging waters. Before Denath could question his fellowing travelling companion as to how they were supposed to continue a heavy object met with the back of Denath's skull, blackness taking him.
Denath awoke the next day, cold, tired and hungry. His pack had been rumaged through, much of his supplies, what few coins he had been carrying and the Two Rivers tabac taken. This, however, was the least of his worries. Lenn had somehow managed to get him to the other side of the River, the small boat previously hidden by thick overgrowth tied fast to other side of the raging water. Knowing it was foolish to try and recross the river, Denath hoisted his now lightened pack and belongings onto his shoulders, thankful that Lenn had not taken any of his weapons, nor the pendant his mother had given him the day that he left, the one with an eagle carved on it that she said had always brought the family luck. With nothing else to be done Denath set off into the wilds.
A few days after being robbed and abbandonded Denath began to notice strage lights in the sky, the occasional sound reaching his ears that could not be made by nature alone. Denath made for the strange lights and noise, hoping it to be caused by some form of human settlement.
Denath did indeed find himself at the edge of a settlement soon enough, one being attacked by trollocs and strange people wearing insect like armour. A feirce battle appeared to be raging inside the city, the source for much of the strage lights and sounds he had seen and heard the day before. Knowing that he could do little for those inside the village, Denath began to play a deadly game of cat and mouse with those trollocs near the edge of the clearing which surrounded the village, eliminating those that followed him one by one.
Eventually the appearance of the strangers in insect armour gave Denath the chance he needed to make a break for the village, knowing that he would stand a better chance against these newcomers behind the city walls. During a brief respite in the fighting Denath made his near fatal attempt to reach the village, a panicing trolloc's blade slicing deeply into his leg and rendering him uncouncious
Denath awoke the next day finding himself not out on the battle field but within an inn in the village, his wound nearly fully healed thanks to Aes Sedai. It was not long before Denath found out that a group of Aes Sedai, their warders, and Asha'man had been responsible for defending the village. Realizing that continuing to travel on his own was a dangerous idea, Denath joined with this strage group despite feeling that he would be little more than a nusciance.
Another encounter with the strange insect armoured people called the Seanchan saw Denath flung from his horse, his head striking a rock. Recovering from a sever concussion and memory loss, Denath had a strange dream of a red eagle flying over a city consumed by burning white light even as hordes of trollocs began to rush towards it. Most of his memory has now returned to him although some patches remain no more than vauge images hidden in mist.
Although he would trust any of the group with his life Denath feels the closest connection to Jazral, the warder of Selene Sedai. Jazral has become almost a father figure and mentor to Denath, showing more faith and trust in him than any other member of the group, going so far as to impart some of his knowledge on the younger man. During events in Illian Denath made himself a promise that he would never allow himself to fail in the warder's eye, less the warder think that his time and attention spent on the young Guir was a waste. For his kindness and attention, Denath has promised himself that he will one day become a warder himself to repay Jazral for all that he has done for him.
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Posted: Mon Sep 06, 2004 9:16 am
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Posted: Mon Sep 06, 2004 9:18 am
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Posted: Thu Sep 23, 2004 9:06 pm
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Posted: Tue Oct 05, 2004 11:05 am
Controlled by Nanako
Name: Nanako
Age/Gender: 19/Female
Height: 5'6"
Eye color: Baby Blue
Hair color: Red (as in a natural red-head)
Distinguishing Features: Almost ankle length, curly red hair, and oddly pale blue eyes
Character Type: Wilder
Skills/Talents: Although she loathes weapons, she does have some skill with a blade and staff. These skills are a remnant of her experiences while being controlled, and as such she is loathed to use them. Her talents lie primarily in healing, through herbalism and the One Power. Healing has been part of her mothers family for generations, and she was taught by her mother from a young age until her death about plants, herbs, treatments and to always be careful not to call too much Power to her (although she never understood what that meant until she stumbled upon the group and learned of Channeling)
Relation to Other Character(s): Childhood friends with Gwynne and Chalinda
Item(s) Used/Carried & What They Do: A pendant belonging to her mother that is worn under her clothing
History: Born in a small village in Andor, Nanako lead a very sheltered life. Her 3 sisters died had died years before, from what she now suspects was over use of Saidar while healing people of the village after one of the trolloc raids. Her mother passed away as well when she was 14 during a similar instance. Her father is her last remaining blood relative, and continued to shelter her from the world after her mothers passing.
At the age of 16, her father had found another woman in his life. Nanako did not get along with her for many reasons, most of all because the woman feared Nanako and the young girl couldn't understand why. It was around this time that a man wondered into the village, badly wounded by battle with what everyone assumed were trollocs. She healed the man, and nursed him back to health.
He was a channeller himself, and one capable of sensing when Saidar was used. Unfortunately for Nanako, he had gone insane from the taint placed on Saidin, although he hid it well enough when the need suited him. He courted her for a few months, and eventually convinced the naive young girl to run away with him, as her father didn't approve of them having a relationship. Smitten by him, she agreed to go with him.
Soon after leaving the village, his attitude abruptly changed. Her love for him allowed her to initially ignore this personality change. However, about a month into their travels he became abusive towards her, and openly used Saidin to threaten her and bully her into submission. When it became apparent to her that he was not the man she thought she fell in love with, she attempted to run away knowing that he may very well kill her for it.
In a fate worse then death, he used the Asha'man's version of the bond, taking control of her. To add insult to injury he decided to rape her body as well as her mind.
For several months, he used her as little more then a plaything and a meat shield. She still didn't fully grasp the idea that she could channel, which frustrated him to know ends as he couldn't use her as he wished. She fought him on everyway that she could, but her consciousness was still forced to watch the atrocities being committed by her physical form. It was during this time that she learned how to use weapons, to her dismay and horror.
On an attack on a small town, Nanako had fought with all her will to overcome her captor. The villagers waged a frontal assault on their attackers, and the girl found herself once again being used as a meat shield. As they came closer, she fought for all she was worth to regain control of herself both body and mind. Through tears of utter frustration and furry, she watched as the villagers came closer. Somehow, she felt a power pulse through her. Instinctively, she put up a shield of air to protect herself and try to keep them back. The force of the impact of the horses and men caused her to lose control of the weave, and the backlash sent a wave out, pushing back all in the vicinity. Nanako had gone careening into a building, the impact of which caused her to lose consciousness. As the blackness engulfed her, she could feel something break within her.
When she awoke, she was simply a shell. Her mind was whipped completely clean. Somehow she managed to wonder outside the village. Her mind and will shattered, she had wondered aimlessly until coming across a small town. There, her spirit healed, and she started to regain memories of who she was and exactly what had happened.
It was this very town that later became surround by trollocs and fades, the town rescued by the group she now found herself with. She still lives with the memories of the time, and the scars it has left on her; as she will likely do for the remainder of her life.
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Posted: Mon Nov 15, 2004 1:11 pm
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Posted: Thu Nov 18, 2004 11:26 pm
Inactive TBD
Controlled by Addin Calhorn
Name: Addin Calhorn
Age/Gender: 30-ish/male
Character Type: Captain of the Manetheren army during the Trolloc Wars. Before wars took over his life, scholar/inventor/channeler
Skills/Talents [List weapons/skills carried]: 15 years in the Manetheren army, Ashandarei master, limited knowledge of making angreal, ter'angreal
Item(s) Used/Carried & What They Do: Power wrought Ashandarei, ter'angreal ring capable of detecting channeling, points in direction, changes color of which half is being channeled.. Red - saidin, white - saidar. Armor: plate mail black with a Red eagle clutching Arrows in one claw and a Sword in the other
Weakness: wants more then anything to regain his ability to channel, maybe even to turning against everything and anyone to get it. Also has a great developed a great dependency to either wear or hold the ring, doesn't yet know what would happen if it was taken. Wants vengeance for what happened to his homeland.
History [Family background, travels, any relevant information that has had any impact on character growth and development up to this point]:
Pardon any discrepancies in this, but I thought I'd start off with the time line I'm having my char in, as I'm gleaning (and cannibalizing) info from web sites and, of course, the books. First a bit of explanation about what's happening during this time. According to my sources there were few if any at all male channelers at this time, as they where hunted and killed to prevent another Breaking. The city and towers of Tar Valon were completed at 202AB so there were still Aes Sedai in the world. The Compact of the Ten Nations was still going. About 209 AB (The Compact of the Ten Nations is formed, largely due to the efforts of Queen Mabrieam of Aramelle. The ten nations and their rulers are: Aelgar (King Remedan the Goldentongued), Almoren (King Coerid Nosar), Aramaelle (Queen Mabriam en Shareed), Aridhol (Queen Doreille Torghin), Coremanda (King Ladoman), Eharon (King Temanin), Essenia (First Lord Cristol), Jaramide (High Queen Egoridin), Manetheren (Queen Sorelle ay Marena) and Safer (King Eawynd), but more closer to my own char is near the middle of the Trolloc Wars that started around 1100 AB (The beginning of the Trolloc Wars following an attack on Barsine. Hordes of Trollocs advance from the Blight to wreck havoc on the Ten Nations, which had enjoyed relative peace for almost 800 years. The Trollocs are lead by a man calling himself Ba'alzamon, who is in reality the Forsaken Ishamael.) I'll place my character during the time of King Aemon Al Caar Al Thorin, roughly 1200 AB.
My name is Addin, Captain to those that don't know me, I lived in a time of constant war. It was the time called the Trolloc Wars. Many great cities were razed to the ground. Bodies littered the ground outside the rubble of all the great cities that had fallen the times were harsh for all those that fought for the light, I was with them, I led many men into battle, they followed and unbelievably we won more then we lost. I was and am a soldier. Although that is not all that I am, or have been, I was a young man full of dreams and more questions then answers. I started my life like many others I had family that thought me and raised me as best they could. Even to this day I'm grateful to have been born in the house I was, though a minor nobles, it gave me the gift of literacy and rank. I had plans when I was young, I wanted to do much more then I actually got the chance to. Call it fate, call it destiny call it the creator, it matters not what it is for that controlling force that decides what we're to do doesn't care what we plan or want it does with us what it wants. In my youth detested the means of the military for I hated war and the battles that were in everyday assurance. I wanted to stay a scholar, and researcher, to search and bring forth the lost knowledge before the breaking. But alas it was not my fate in this life for things changed as time went on.
In my youth I discovered I could make people give into my will, with this ability I was able to many things about the ages before, alas so much was lost thanks to the breaking that it was a book here and a book here but not a complete set , or what I really wanted really needed. I needed some instruction, I needed to know why when I compelled others to my will that I felt like I had been dashed onto the rocks, and sometimes when I tried to compel others it failed utterly and made my head swim. I questioned why, and sought after control and answers.
Fortunately one day I found my answers one day while in the basement of the great city library. It was leather bound booked the bindings and leather were barely holding together. Its words confirmed what I had feared; it was saidin that was used to compel others. Both fearfully and with interest I read and reread that book from cover to cover, and I learned what it was I did was called ironically Compulsion, and it was considered a forsaken weave. The book also gave descriptions of other weaves and vague descriptions of the making of angreal and ter'angreal. I memorized the book and then found a safer place to hide it then in my room. Needing a place to practice where I wouldn't be observed and hopefully felt by any of the patrolling Aes Sedai. I rode out of the small gates of my home city of Jara'copan, and headed into the mountains in the direction of the capital. I found a cave that was perfect for what I wanted. I spent three weeks there without incident and to my delight I had finally worked out the missing details and made the first ter'angreal and a small angreal. The ter'angreal I made was in the shape of a ring; silver banded and had a clear stone. It wasn't much to look at but I didn't care so much about that. As to what it did well it detected the presence of someone channeling and gave a vague direction of where they were. It didn't work very well for detecting saidar but for saidin it worked much better. As for the angreal, he had a love of birds and their freedom of slight taking this into account it was shaped of an eagle in flight. Its power wasn't as great as he wanted but it was at least something to help if he needed.
He returned to his home to Jara'copan, only to find that Aes Sedai were poking around, asking questions. Worried that they had somehow felt what he had done he did his best not to be seen. As the days went by and the searches he feared that they would find the book and thus discovered him, he took the book and tossed it into the fire. Part of me died as the books pages darkened and burst into flames then turned to ash. After a few weeks making myself unnoticeable, the Aes Sedai left the city and he assumed went to join their sisters who were fighting the Trollocs. Month after month his fears of being discovered made him uneasy, restless and unfortunately for those around him suspicious that everyone was against him. Needing escape before he grew mad he made a choice that he never though he would. Being of age he entered into the military academy. The months and then years of training both unarmed and armed toughened his body and mind. He learned to separate himself from that part of himself that channeled; he became one with the weapons in his hands. And to the great pride of his teachers learned quickly, even to surpass many in his class in skill and tactics. Outside the academy the war continued and before long he was graduated and placed in the field. The first battle with the shadow both terrified him and strengthened him. He learned quickly from his mistakes and that in it self saved his life countless times. He learned how to anticipate the thrust and movements of the Trollocs and began making great gains. He shared what he learned with those he fought with and pulled through under the overwhelming odds that were in front of them.
As the battles and years went by he began to gain prestige and honor. Moving up in skill and in rank he gained the rank of captain and was place in the command of men. With this he was granted one of his most cherished possessions, an Ashandarei. The blade was to be said to be of finest quality and was rumored to be Power-wrought, never to break and never needing to be sharpened. He put it through it trials over the months ahead. After so many battles he felt that he was nigh unstoppable. He was very wrong in this, and his pride almost killed him. It was in defense of his home city of Jara'copan that he almost died. The battle itself lasted for almost two solid weeks. The horde of its walls seemed to come out of the very night itself. Before the end of the second week the spirits of both the citizens that couldn't or didn't flee to safety and that of the soldiers themselves seemed to drop. There was no word of relief, and as the days went out hope was almost forgotten. It was a mixed blessing when the two sisters of the battle Ajah, the Green, came with news of relief and reinforcements. That very night the battle increased a hundred fold, with their ability to call lighting and other weaves of battle the horde began to diminish in size and hope rose in the hearts of everyone.
The next day changed everything. As the hours of battle started again and the lighting stabbed into the hordes they retaliated with their own, for the Dreadlords had been summoned. In moments much of the city was in flames, the screams of men grew in numbers. The lightning sticks lessened and then stopped smashing into the ranks of the horde. The Aes Sedai had failed. Seeing the death of so many I knew and fought alongside pushed me into action. Calling forth all that I had I unleashed it towards where the Dreadlord stood. At first all I saw when the smoke cleared was a blackened hole. As I turned to strike at the hordes again Lightning hit and slammed me to the ground, before I could get up to respond in kind something over me and cut me off from the source. I gasped in confusion and exhaustion. Pain bloomed in my head, I hit the ground, and the last thing I saw was the smile of an Aes Sedai.
I awoke to find myself bound to a chair. And to my horror I found a wall between me and saidin, I around its surface with my mind and on finding four what could only be described as knots I knew that I had lost. I withdrew my searching when the voices started. In a sobbing voice tinged with anger, "Why do we keep him alive, He killed him, he killed Goliath." Another replied in a cold tone, "That is exactly why, because he could kill goliath... yes I know what you are going to say, but remember that strength cannot overcome being cautious and that's why he failed." The sobbing continued until he heard the unmistakable slap and shrike. "Stop your sobbing Samantha; we accomplished the task the Great lord gave us. I can assure you that before he is turned he will suffer for the death of your brother. The others will be here in an hour and we should prepare." Footfalls sounded and then only the silence and breathing filled the air. Opening my eyes my mind spun as I took in the room, avoiding the icy stares of the four that surrounded me I saw the angreal, ter'angreal ring and my Ashandarei in the room. The women didn't speak any more; they just glared at me. Knowing that time was short I decided it was time to at least try to escape gathering my thoughts I searched along the side of the wall that blocked me from the power. As time went on I found it the weakest one, I pushed and flexed at it. They felt me do all this and grew alarmed, before they could call for help I put all I could into a final push, I heard a scream, the wall shattered and I was filled with fire, the binding on my chair shattered like glass I looked around and saw the unconscious form of the one who screamed. I was free and I let loose with fire and destruction. They tried again and again to block me but I turned them to ash as fast as I could, six piles of ash littered the ground I grabbed my ring, the eagle angreal and my Ashandarei and pushed open the door of the tent to find the faces of a fade as it rushed at me. The void nearly shattered as the attack came from all directions. Using the angreal I turned the fades into ashes. My mind whirled as seven more Aes Sedai came rushing at me with their hands raised. Again and again they threatened to overwhelm me, Exhaustion swept over me and it showed as my shield began to falter. They must have noticed this as their attacks became fiercer. With a shout of anger one what held what looked like a turtle lashed out at me more fiercely then any before. The void shattered, I dropped to my knees, and rolled and taking my Ashandarei, I stabbed into her abdomen. Falling over with exhaustion I was swallowed into the deep blackness of unconsciousness again.
The morning sun awoke him, he felt different he felt empty. A chasm had replaced his link to saidin. Several emotions came to him, threatening to destroy him, Fear, disbelief, Depression and after seeing all the red shawls the dead women had worn in life he wanted vengeance. He had heard what happened to those that were cut off from the source and he was determined not to be one of those that sank so are into depression that they killed themselves. He needed a purpose to avoid that fate. He would rejoin the army and fight tell the end, and if he came across an Aes Sedai that was of the Red Ajah he would proclaim them Darkfriend and without warning send them to the grave. Yes that is what he would do, but first he had to get back to the armies. Still weak from everything that had happened to him it took several day to reach any kind of land mark or road.
Luckily for me I was found, although more than half dead, on the side of the road. Several leagues from the ruins of a patrol found me and brought me back to their camp, there they told me of the complete destruction of Jara'copan, My anguish of that loss plummeted me into an even greater depression then I already was with the loss of saidin. I told the generals that questioned me what I remembered of the battle. And how what I suspected of internal betrayal from the Aes Sedai of the Black Ajah. Though the Ajah was not spoken of, being denied when ever it was even vaguely mentioned. The questioning general couldn't dismiss it given the evidence. I told them of how I was captured during the battle and taken for interrogation, to find out the movements of the armies so that the Dreadlords and their armies could move against us sooner and with more success. Gratefully they believed it and exonerated me from any charges of being a deserter or other.
The few citizens that survived that were left had moved on into the security of other cities, of my family only my sister survived and was now living in Corartheren with a long estranged aunt. I was sent to them to recover. Grateful that I still had some remaining family my heart lifted. After a few months I was again with the armies fighting to protect out homes. The war continued and battle after battle I became hardened and to others I seemed cruel and somewhat savage during the fighting. Despite these things we won more and more battles and they came to accept how I was and some even thought of me as a mentor and fallowed my lead in battle, not just causing fatal wounds as was taught in the academies but decapitating any in their way. These tactics affected the enemy, and there were many cowards in the armies of the dark one, they ran as we charged and were cut down by us and their own for their cowardice. Time went on and I and the other officers were giving orders to march forth and reinforce the king Aemon's forces, the march was long and as night was approaching we made camp, I myself laid my bad at a strange pillar that had an ancient weathered look, exhausted from the march I fell into a deep sleep. That night I dreamed of the battle of Jara'copan, I felt the power raging into me and into where the Dreadlord had last been sensed. My mind was sent spinning and all I could feel was pain and loss of the security and strength. Pain bloomed into my minds eye and I couldn't seem to think. The stretch of an owl brought me back to the waking world.
I awoke to find myself alone, my mind whirled as h looked around. I had kept my own pack and items but with no horse, it seemed to me it was going to be a very long day. I looked closer at the pillar and noted the warn glyphs that were engraved on it. Swearing to myself as I remember something about this kind of pillar in the books, Thinking on it just made me more disgruntled and worried of where it was I was taken to. Deciding that it was useless to just sit and wait I began to travel in search for civilization and answers. After a few days I noted that my ring glowed telling me that someone was channeling, Perhaps a battle was being engaged so I took in the direction and with the passing hours I found myself getting closer and closer. Then it all stopped. Keeping to the same general direction as the rings pull I continued. As night fell I came across a lake, feeling that I should be cautious I pulled myself into one of the thick trees and took up a watch. The next day I met up with those that were channeling. I ultimately joined with them for my own reasons, as much as anything else. I learned that I was indeed far from where I had left my army, in both distance and time. To my sorrow I found that the Great nation of Manetheren was long gone, destroyed in the Trolloc wars due to betrayal. In the back of my mind I craved vengeance against all Red Ajah, and Aes Sedai for what they had done. But how to get it was the hard thing, one man can not do it alone. I learned that during this new age that the prophecy of the dragons return had come to pass, and many things, miracles and discoveries were coming into being. First saidin was cleansed and then some Accepted had discovered how to healing being gentled or cut off from the source. Asking Aorn who had the greatest healing ability of the group he only replied that it was something he would consider in the future, a bit discouraged at this he went along with the group and decided to stay with them in their battles with the shadow. As time went on the group gained in numbers and, I learned to depend and trust them in turn and felt it was likewise with them. Throughout all the action and battles he waited for the time when he would be whole again, and then he could begin.
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Posted: Sun Feb 20, 2005 7:41 pm
Controlled by Medixia
Name: Medixia Teverice
Age/Gender: 28/Female
Height: 5'2"
Weight: 108 lbs.
Eye color: Hazel
Hair color: Strawberry-blonde with hints of green
Character Type: Healer/Herbalist, Chain Warrior
Origin: Lake Somal, Arad Doman
Relation to Other Character(s): Medixia is friends with Isainde.
Skills/Talents:
Healer/Herbalist - Medixia has taken great care to study how to heal the body using nothing but the nature that has surrounded her since birth. She can recognize the medicinal or battle purposes of any plant she run across. She often coats the tips of her battle-chain with powerful paralysis inducers.
Chain Warrior - Medixia would prefer not to battle, but she has learnt one method of battle allowing her to captivate/stun her opponents. She uses a battle-chain, crafted by her grand-father, to defend herself. She's mastered this art of battle, but her primary skill and job remains as a Healer.
Distraction - Let's just say Medixia has learnt, as all Domani women do, that men are attracted to a girl who shows an interest in them. It's an excellent way to avoid battle, at least.
Item(s) Used/Carried & What They Do:
Ilisian - A ter'angreal (pair, created as one) that has been passed down for countless generations of the Teverice lineage. Medixia believes she is the last, so she wears the two rings with great pride. The one on her right will glow when saidar is used. The one on the left will glow when saidin is used. For either, A careful eye might see the singular brightest strand of light pointing in the general direction of the channeler.
Battle Chain - To best describe this would be to think of six peices of metal-reenforced wood, each a foot in length, attached by chains. These can be "linked" as to use it as a staff. When in battle, she can "unscrew" the links to reveal the deadly use of the battle-chain. The top and bottom pieces have blades laced in the paralysis-inducing venom she is fond of using to prevent the need for further battle.
History:
She's a girl on a mission, to bring an end to the suffering of any she can get her hands on ^_^ Her parents died in an accident when she was too young to remember, and she's been raised by her only living relatives -- her grandparents. Medixia's grandfather crafted her battle-chain, at first, as a means to introduce her to the ways of battle. He was quickly displeased, however, when he discovered her penchant for the natural, instead. Medixia did, indeed, learn the art of the Chain Warrior, but she never went beyond that into either that of the Shield Maiden or Sword Master, as he had hoped. Medixia quickly discovered her grandmother's love of nature and healing, and, together, they discovered the perfect use of many herbs, roots, and natural poisons. Medixia, however, perfected her art in the realm of an Herbalist as she grew more and more distant from society.
Medixia knows little of current events. Some tease that she knows more of nature than of the White Tower or Ajah. She doesn't even realize the power her ter'angreal rings represent. The ability to for a non-channeler to detect such danger as a channeler is one which will allow her to avoid trouble. Instead...it has gotten her into more trouble than not. She often travels in the direction of the brightest lights from her rings. In time, this had naturally brought her to Tar Valon and the White Tower, the greatest place of the One Power in the land. Unfortunately, all she found within the Shining Walls was a great confusion and repreated attempts by Aes Sedai to take her rings from her. In their arrogance, Aes Sedai believed all ter'angreal belonged to the White Tower, and cared little for the rights of the actual owners. Deciding to leave, she paid for passage on the first boat in dock, one that happened to be bound for Tear.
While upon the boat, Medixia happened upon a young girl, Isainde. The beauty of her voice only caused Medixia to find good vantage to watch and listen. It was also a break from the gawks she got from the men. When she hears a break, Medixia applauds. Perhaps it was this or something else, but it was hard to find the two appart, at least in public, aboard the ship. Certain incidents may also have drawn the two together. One of Medixia's goals, though lofty, is to end as much suffering as she can. Isainde presents one of her greatest challenges. Medixia is also unafraid of speaking her mind.
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Posted: Sun Feb 20, 2005 8:06 pm
Controlled by Kishou
Name: Isainde
Age/Gender: 14/Female
Height: 5"1'
Weight: 98 lbs.
Eye Color: Deep blue
Hair Color: Black
Character Type: Tuatha'an
Relation to Other Character(s): Knows Medixia
Skills/Talents:
Singing - A singing voice to rival the best life-singers of the Age of Legends
Item(s) Used/Carried & What They Do:
The clothes on her back are all she ever had.
History:
The daughter of her caravan's Mahdi, Isainde proved her name well-chosen from the earliest ages. In the Old Tongue, "isainde" meant simply "isn't," and while Isainde was as devout a follower of the Way of the Leaf as her father, she accepted very little else about her birthright. The belief of the Way that what happens will happen became, in her mind, a desire to see what would happen. When she left the caravan at the age of twelve to explore the world, her father refused to declare her of the Lost, but none of the caravan believed she would ever return. They knew, and had never been able to teach her, that a lone Tinker in the present world would last only the shortest length of time.
For a time, Isainde was left to herself; her caravan had been at the edge of the Aiel Waste when she left, and the people on the furthest outskirts of Cairhien were quiet folk who were glad to exchange a meal and a bed for the night for the songs Isainde could sing. Her voice was by far the sweetest they had ever heard, and her songs might have made the Forsaken themselves weep for the music of the Age of Legends. She made her way slowly westward, heading unknowingly towards Tar Valon.
Almost a year into her journey, which thus far had been blessed with calm and safety to make the Way of the Leaf seem the only way to live, she came across a small town whose name she never remembered. This place, unlike everywhere else she had been since leaving the caravan, was rowdy, filthy, loud, and dangerous. As was inevitable for a girl travelling alone in such conditions, she was accosted by gangs, many more times than once. That she followed the Way of the Leaf hardly mattered; she could not have fought against them had she been a Far Daeris Mai. She was robbed of her money the first time, half her clothing the second time, and her virginity the third time. In her desperate flight from the place after the third encounter, she was assaulted again, by two groups at once. She escaped with her life only because the leaders of the two gangs came to blows over which of them would own her.
She finally stopped running over a mile from the hateful place, and collapsed under a tree in the forest. Her arm was broken, her body covered in bruises and cuts, her last energy taken by her desperate flight. She knew she would be dead before the sun rose over the horizon again, and while the Way of the Leaf allowed her to face it with the contentment of those who accept all that comes, she cried for knowing that she would never see anything to make her journey worth the pain her father had endured when she left. As the sun set, her eyes closed, and she was sure she would not wake again.
When her eyes opened, her first thought was shock. The pain in her body was gone, and she could feel that her arm was whole again. She wondered if she were dead. She couldn't see anything; the night was pitch-black. A soft voice spoke to her. "Rest, child. You have been Healed, but the strength came from you. It has been three days since I found you. Are you hungry?"
Isainde nodded slightly, realizing that she was so weak that she could barely move. Her usually perfect voice rasped from the dryness in her throat. "Yes," was all she said. A light appeared from above and to the left of her, a small globe with no visible source. "Who..." She shook her head slightly and swallowed painfully. "Who are you?"
The voice had a smile in it. "I thought I had found you too late. You were very badly hurt. You can call me Isainde, Aes Sedai of the Blue Ajah. Now rest, child! I will answer more when you have regained some strength." A great weariness came over the girl then, and she slept again.
Over the next month, Isainde learned very little of the woman who shared her name and had saved her life. She told the Aes Sedai her story, what little there was of it, but Aes Sedai were Aes Sedai after all, and she was told very little in return. She asked how the woman had found her alone in the forest, and was told that it was the will of the Wheel. She asked if her memory of the terror and violation she had suffered in the city could be taken from her, and was reminded that the Way of the Leaf taught acceptance of all that came. She asked how the Aes Sedai knew so much of the Tuatha'an, only to be told that it was all common knowledge. She asked why the woman asked her to sing so often, and to that she got no answer, never finding out that the elder Isainde had hoped that such a pure voice indicated something of the One Power was in the girl.
The two travelled together, the Aes Sedai's presence affording the girl both protection and speed. When they reached Tar Valon, the woman took her to the White Tower and left her in the care of the Yellow sisters. She explained only that, "I want to be certain you have been fully healed in mind and body. My own Talent in those areas is lacking." After a pause, she added, "I am sorry, Isainde, but I do not think I will see you again for a long time. Keep to the Way, and never stop singing. Peace be on you always, and on all the People. I will find the Song, or another will find the Song, but the Song will be sung, this year or in a year to come. As it once was, so shall it be again, world without end."
In tears, Isainde gave the proper reply. "World without end. World and time without end. Isainde Sedai, please come back someday. You've done so much for me, please let me help you when I can."
The Aes Sedai smiled at her. "Your songs have warmed my soul, child. That is more than payment enough. I think you may find the Song." And with that, she was gone.
Isainde spent three months in the White Tower, in the care of the Yellow Ajah. A girl with no ability to channel and no connections to anyone, she was left out of the split in the Tower, only noticing that none of the Blue Ajah seemed to be there any more. Finally, her caretaker, a kindly, graying Yellow named Daori, decided that she had been healed in spirit and flesh. "Go on, child," the woman told her. "Your songs make my tired old bones feel young again, and I thank you for that. Leave before what I think are the terrible things to come. As it once was, so shall it be again, world without end."
"World without end. World and time without end." Isainde spoke the words of farewell in a tiny whisper; a thread of fear was curling its way around her mind. The Way of the Leaf taught acceptance of all that came, but did not preclude worry over the bad things.
She had no idea where to go now. She had already seen much more than she had ever dreamed was woven into the Pattern, and most of it nothing she would have chosen to find. Without knowing where her caravan was, she could not go home. Finally, she closed her eyes, turned around, and pointed in a completely random direction. She set off that way and did not look back.
She happened upon an Illianer cargo ship in dock going to Tear, and bought passage with the small amount of gold Daori Sedai had given her. Along the way, she met a friend, Medixia, who seemed determined to try to ease the pain of Isainde's life. They disembarked in Tear and entered the city.
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Posted: Thu Jul 14, 2005 8:13 pm
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Kai Karasurei Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Aug 19, 2005 1:12 pm
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Posted: Wed Nov 23, 2005 8:08 am
Controlled by: Guntram Goldlion
Name: Guntram GoldLion
Age/Gender: 26/male
Height: 6' 2"
Eye color: Brown, and often glowing with a fierce, zealous light.
Hair color: Brown, always cut short, and kept neat. No facial hair.
Distinguishing Features: Scars: One diagonally, down and to the right, on his forehead. Another one on his left cheek, and one diagonally, down and to the left, on his chest. He has a somewhat handsome face, even with the scars. He is also very large, his muscles being at least the size of a blacksmith's.
Character Type: Whitecloak
Skills/Talents [List weapon skills/carried]: Guntram is very talented with the sword: a bit better than your average soldier, but not at the skill level of a blademaster. And while his skill with his claymore is normally great, he is truly dangerous when the spark of anger is lighted within him. He is a master of using his rage to assist him, not hinder him, in a fight. He never lets his rage blind him.
He has minor unarmed fighting skill, but they aren't exactly good enough to be solely relied on. He most often uses this skill in combination with his sword-fighting.
Blacksmithing. Not exactly a master, but he has enough background to make something at least half-decent.
Relation to Other Character(s) [If Any] [This includes Relations between Aes Sedai/Asha'man and Warders]: Brief encounters with Gwynne and Denath Guir
Item(s) Used/Carried & What They Do [If Any]: The signature white cloak of, well, a whitecloak.
His claymore./sheath
His horse.
A saddle pack, which contains various items such as flint and tinder, a small knife, some rope, and other minor traveling provisions, such as food.
History: Guntram was the son of a blacksmith in a small village. Times were tough, and so, Guntram started doing whatever he could to assist his father, and started to learn the trade. But, one day this small, peaceful village was attacked by bandits. His father did what he could to protect his family, but he was no warrior, and fell with a deep wound in his side.
Luckily for Guntram and the village, there was a group of Whitecloaks nearby, and upon hearing the commotion, they rode into the city. Without much difficulty, they slayed the bandits, saving Guntram. But, they were too late to do anything for his father, who died of the wound. Guntram still bears a scar on his forehead from this day, a constant reminder of his father's death, and of rescue by the whitecloaks.
Guntram knew that he owed those whitecloaks his life, and he admired their bravery. They even did what they could to comfort him in his time of sadness. It was then that even while mourning, he secretly desired to become a whitecloak, or as he would learn to call them-and himself-Children of the Light.
In the years that followed, Guntram did not forget his desire to join the Children of the Light. But, he could not forget that his mother still needed him. So, he became an apprentice to another blacksmith in the village, learning the trade. But secretly, he saved up a sum of money. When a merchant passed through the village, he bought a claymore. He wanted to be able to protect what little family he had left, should the need arise. That, and he would need a weapon if he were to join the Children of the Light.
When Guntram was 18, word spread through the village that there was a camp of the Children nearby. His mother could see the light in his eyes, the desire to join them. So, she told him to go join them, if he wished to; she would find a way to take care of herself. After a sad goodbye, Guntram left with some minor provisions, and his claymore, for the camp of the Children.
This was a different group than the ones who had saved him, but that did not stop him from telling them about his father, and the whitecloaks who had saved him, and his desire to be a whitecloak himself. The Whitecloaks gladly took Guntram under their wing. "Too many darfriends as it is," they had said. "We'll be glad for any increase in our numbers."
In his years as a Whitecloak, Guntram trained intensly to become a worthy fighter, and all those who taught him were amazed at his progress. He took different styles, including his own, and melded them all into one.
It wasn't too long after joining the Children that Guntram killed his first Aes Sedai, and almost lost his own life in the process.
The Aes Sedai must have barely made it through the tests, as she was not much of a challenge. Relitavely unprepared for the world, and just barely strong enough to earn the title of Aes Sedai. A perfect target.
When Guntram struck, she was foolishly without her warder in an alley. She did not know what was happening, until Guntram stabbed her in the back, and she was able to see the sword sticking out of her chest. She died without a sound, which made Guntram think he was in the clear.
But one thing he did not count on was the Warder's bond. Through the bond, the warder felt his Aes Sedai die, and sprang to action. The warder fought like an enraged beast, and for good reason. Guntram recieved a large, deep wound accross his chest, which would have killed him had he not stepped back in time. Guntram managed to kill the warder, but the warder left his mark. The wound turned into a large scar accross his chest.
Nearly all of the Children's teachings seemed to click with Guntram. He had grown up with all the dark stories of Aes Sedai, and so, had no trouble believing they were darkfriends. He also saw darkfriends as scum, lower than humans. And while he accepted the punishment for being a darkfriend as death, he would as often as he could, give at least a small chance to 'come back to the light'. And at first, he was just as quick to call 'darkfriend' as any Whitecloak. But recent events have started to get him thinking.
The first happened when the group stopped in Elmora. Soon after they arrived, it was brought to their attention that supposedly, a womane named Gwynne had named the dark one. Guntram, and several others, went to investigate. Guntram was surprised when she turned out to be a servant of the light. And even more surprised when he recieved word that the one who had convicted her turned out to be a darkfriend himself.
This, and a few other instances, made Guntram realize that not everything was as it seemed. He became slower to call 'darkfriend' on people. He started thinking these types of things through more (but, once decided, he still saw convicted darkfriends as less than human). And then, in a small village called the Two Rivers, he was nearly booted from the Children of the Light.
They were there to root out a darkfriend. Perrin Aybayra, one who ran with wolves. That, he was alright with. But it seemed that his fellow Children thought that the whole village was filled with darkfriends, which was against Guntram's thoughts. In his opinion, many of them could have simply been... misled by Perrin. When his fellow children wanted to burn down the farm of a small family for not giving them their horses and winter stores, Guntram protested.
"You can't just burn down everything they own for not giving us what they need for themselves!" he had said, once he got his fellow children away from the farm, to talk in private.
"Why do you care? They're all darkfriends. Darkfriends for supporting this Perrin. Darkfriends for not helping to sustain enforcers of the light." responded his superior.
"Maybe they're being fooled by Perrin. Light, they're just farmers! Leave them alone."
"Fine, we'll just burn their crops. Teach them a lesson."
And, when the trollocs attacked the village, and the Children decided not to lend aid like promised in return for Perrin, Guntram snapped. For once, he had let his rage take him over. He had a very heated debate with the commander of the Children in the area at the time, demanding that they go back to fight the trollocs. The argument turned into a small fight, which resulted on a small scar on Guntram's cheek. Guntram was finally shut up by a threat to kick him out of the Children of the Light. He did shut up, but his faith in the Children was somewhat shaken by the events in the Two Rivers. But, he determined that there was good and bad everywhere. Even in the Children of the Light.
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Kai Karasurei Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Mar 05, 2006 8:00 am
Controlled by miraridemon
[Character Information
Character Name: Kael Er'Solvsver
Character Type/Profession: Wilder, Mercenary.
Character Age: 20
Character Gender: M
Character Skills/Talents: Unarmed and weapon fighting. Can channel, fairly strongly, but so far has not been trained. He is a Dreamer.
Character Weaknesses: A strange affliction racks his body since he came to the main continent, causing occasinal coughin fits. It is unknown whether it is fatal or not. Although he has little, Kael is quick to take what he can get. Sometimes arrogant and power hungry, he is a little too eager to jump into battle, and will some times slip into bloodlust. He has been known to accept bribes, and does not care who hires him. Because of different customs and values on this Isle of Madmen, what he may classify as being suave is often considered by others as womanizing, although he makes an effort to learn the culture.
Character Strengths: Intelligent, strong and cruel, Kael is a diligent fighter who knows how to get the job done. He is smooth on his feet, and charismatic at times. A male Channeler, he is always willing to learn new methods of fighting and the Power, and is also happy to teach others who he deems worthy.
Character History: Kael was born the son of a male Channeler on the Isle of Madmen. His father was completely mad, driven there by years of using the tainted male half of the source. He grew up raised by his father, who had killed his mother after she had birthed him. His father beat him regularly, and was not above beating him within an inch of his life then Healing him so he could do it again. All of this toughened Kael until the Power manifested in him. After a series of sleeps where he touched the world of dreams, he had awoken with a new goal. He began to see the threads his father wove when he channeled, and when his father was out gathering things, he soon was able to do routine tasks with the Power, although he does not completely understand much, besides from what his Father had shown him in brief moments of sanity. On his last day on the island, (Also, the day Rand Al'Thor cleansed the male half of the Power) he confronted and killed his father, stealing his belongings. He then traveled north, towards the shore, where he carefully stole enough materials to build a raft. Shoving off, he began his journey at sea. He was 16 years old at this time, and an adept fighter and strong in the Power, altough untrained and unaware of his potential. He drifted for three days before he was found be a Sea Folk ship. He was educated in the following year, taught to read and right, and earned his journey working on the ship. He was finally dropped off in Illian at the age of 18, having spent 2 years living with the Sea Folk. With no gold, and no clothes save what he had warn on the high seas and the Power related items he had stolen from his father, he needed a way to make money. Staying out late at night, he was cornered by a number of cutpurses, after his Sea Folk linens. Using the Power as a weapon (Although without tact, as well as messily and uncontrolled) , he killed the cutpurses, and relieved them of his choice of outfit and their gold. He discovered this was an easy way of making money. During the day, he spoke to many Hunters of the Horn, and learned of events. During the night, he killed the criminals of Illian. When he had made a hefty purse of gold and had acquired enough knowledge of the land from the Hunters, he began to wander the lands. He earned money by mercenary work or going back to killing cut purses, and on more than one occasion, he was able to observe the Asha'man fighting. He observed them from afar, and learned by copying their weaves. He took to wearing a black coat, longer than that of the Asha'man, with a high collar, as well as a short sword on his back and a sword breaker on his hip. He also carried his fathers whip, a favoured weapon on the Isle of Madmen. He is still working as a mercenary.
Special Items: He carries his fathers whip, which seems to be of some significance, although what is unknown to him.
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