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Approved WT bio for Aurora - CCd by Aiel


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Email: cinnamuncookie@hotmail.com


Name: Aurora Dovienya

Division: WT

Height: Short for her age, will be tall as an adult

Structure: Big boned

Hair: Medium blond/brown

Skin: Creamy light brown

Age: Almost 14

Eyes: big, dark blue veined various shades of dark green, rimmed grey. Long


PoB: Arad Doman

Personality: sneeky, pathalogical theif, liar, deceiver, kind hearted,

generous, bossy, and cheeky







I was born and raised the beggar daughter of a peasant beggar and his

pleasant beggar wife in a city in Arad Doman. My parents had no

professional aspirations of any kind, for themselves or their children. We

lived in a wool merchant's den. We "earned" our keep because both my

father's family and my mother's had dominant traits for large, round,

sensitive eyes. My father would beg shamelessly, my mother would hold the

youngest of my six siblings in her arms and weep, and the rest of us would

cough, cry, tear up, and ask our parents questions like, "Mother, when will

we get to eat again?" whenever in the presence of the merchant and/or his



My father roamed the streets everyday with his arm pulled into his shirt, my

mother would pour water all over my youngest brother to make him appear to

be perspiring hideously, and my three sisters, other brother and I would

trail around the city pick pocketing, bargaining with imaginary money, and

rubbing dust into our eyes to employ a pinkeye effect, and thus gain



One afternoon, as I hurtled down a street to escape the enraged butcher on

my trail, I swerved into an alley where I proceeded to chew happily on the

length of raw, salted meat that was rightfully mine, as I was one of the

poor and needy in the city, and those better off than I owed me their



Once in the alley, my favorite companion and fellow thief, Valor Spartan, a

self-appointed last name, for he had none, joined me with his share of our

days' earnings. He presented to me two gold coins, a shabby sleeve of silver

chain mail, and half a mug of ale. I rejected the last, as my father always

said, "A thief must keep her wits about her, and ale is only for those of

strong minds." Such a person would, of course, be only himself.


Valor was a kind boy, though I imagine he had far more serious thoughts than

I. Why I assume this, I do not know, but he always seemed to know far more

of me than I of him, although we were so close, we might as well have been

family. I did most of the talking, and dictating, I might add, in the days

we spent together, and once in a while, at the odd interval of my speeches,

I would find him looking at me unexpectedly. I thought nothing of it at the

time, except that it was somewhat unnerving, though now on reflection, I

expect he might have taken a fancy to me. Yes. I think so. He was an

adolescent boy, after all. I hope he's well.


It was not until the stumbling, red faced butcher came wobbling by, that the

cool bricks behind me decided to grow an arm to snatch my prize and return

it to him. Baffled and mildly alarmed, I turned, incredulous, to realize

that beside me had lurked a man wrapped in a cloak the color and texture of

the very wall on which I leaned.


"Nice cloak you got there, sir. Would you mind selling it to me?" I

ventured, giving what I thought was an imperceptible wink to Valor.


"If you were sufficiently wealthy to buy it, why did you steal that jerky?"

He replied smartly.


"Well by the Light, my lord, you insult me! How dare you accuse me of a

crime for which you have no evidence that I committed?!" I made a mental

note to praise Valor later on for his discreet extraction of four silver

coins from a hidden pocket in the mans' cloak.


The skin at the edge of his mouth was dry and seemed wrinkled as it

contracted sideways. "Okay then, my lady, how much are you willing to

pay for my cloak? . If you aren't a thief. "


After carefully trained squinting of the eyes and fingering of the fabric,

speculative humming, and quiet mutterings, I said, "How aboouuuut. seven

gold pieces?"


The man didn't laugh, but his smile seemed to widen. "Only seven gold! Ten!"




"Done. Can you produce such dazzling wealth on the spot? I really must leave



"Coward," I retorted cheekily. "You just don't want to sell me your cloak,

even though I've agreed on a pathetically low price! What kind of fool would

carry that kind of money around a city like this, where even the youngest of

children can pick the pockets of the most weathered thieves there are?!"


He muttered, "You would know, it seems. But fine. I'll wait a quarter of an

hour for you to bring it. My mistress will wait me no longer."


"Deal!" I declared, and ran off. I noticed on my way, Valor standing on the

opposite side of the street with his hand in a woman's lazy stocking,

stareing at me with an almost mournful look in his turned-down eyes.


On my way home, I bumped into a woman in a long black dress with the odd red

stripe down the skirt. When she looked down at me, I instinctively relaxed

the muscles of my face, for a thinner effect, rounded my eyebrows, and said,

"Spare a coin for the needy, mistress?"


The woman looked at me in a way that wasn't frightening, but simply

unsettling. As I turned to run, I heard her call, "Odesius! Collect that

child! ."


I was illiterate when I arrived at the White Tower. I can't say that the

experience of being taken away from my family left me weary: my parents were

happy to have one less responsibility, my younger siblings crying gave me a

satisfying feeling of superiority, and the trip was enjoyable, except for

the moral chidings I received from Tahira Sedai on a daily basis, every time

I attempted to steal something from Odesius. That man had valuable


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