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Approved WY bio Arturus Logres - CC'd by the BT


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Arturus Logres

Age 16

Place or Origin: Caemlyn

Hair: Black

Eyes: Blue

Height: Five foot eight inches and still growing.

Weight: One hundred and eighty pounds


“No thoughts. No emotions. Only the task at hand”  Arturus Logres stood shoulder deep in the river on his fathers lands west of Caemlyn. In his hand he held a weighted rod of iron as long as a sword but several times as heavy. His father Nathanol stood by on the rivers edge waiting for his third son to seize the stillness of mind required of a good swordsman. The river was a perfect place to learn. If you couldn’t hold the stillness in your mind when in a fast moving and near freezing river how could you expect to hold it in the midst of battle with friends dieing around you. Seeing the serenity settle over Arturus, Nathanol nodded for his son to begin the exercise. Arturus was not facing Nathanol but was already at the point of his training to be able to sense Nathanol’s movement without looking. Sensing his father’s orders to proceed, Arturus began to swing the iron rod against the water current. He knew only basic sword techniques and the first few forms for movement but Nathanol was a firm believer in disciplining the mind and body first. After swinging a heavy iron rod as a practice sword against river currents for a few years, anyone could swing a sword hard and fast enough to astonish your opponents. Using the movement forms in the river bed was to teach balance. Using the river current and the slick bottom of the river once mastered the swordsman would not be felled by a trip or some other trick and could move like the water itself. After three hours of river training, which always left Arturus’s arms feeling like they were going to fall off, he would have breakfast by the river with his father and then run back to the estates as fast as he can to build stamina. He would then do chores and study with his teachers on subjects such as proper honor and etiquette among different cultures, as well as battle tactics, problem solving, and reading as well as writing the old tongue. Then it was back to training. Sometimes he trained for pain tolerance or learned the meditations to feel movements and objects for when light fails. Or he would learn forms. Arturus knew several forms both from his father who is one of the sword trainers for the queen’s armies in Andor or his mother, Tarelle, a Shieniran from the borderlands. Unfortunately, while Arturus knew the forms and could go through the motions, he was an amature at best when it came to using them. Nathanol said that was not as important at the moment as knowing them.


Today would be no different Arturus thought as he swung the iron rod in the fast moving current. Then quickly released the thought. “No thoughts. Just actions.” Nathanol frowned seeing his son hesitate a moment and called out to him “Start over! If I had been a common soldier with a lick of skill you would be dead!” Arturus frowned and took a few steps back He was not sure why he was so distracted today. He had even slept too long and did not even notice when old Gunni snuck up on him and put a blade to his throat. He was making mistakes he had not made in over a year. Arturus began the form anew but was painfully aware of little mistakes he was making. He was not sure if he was just making them now or if he had been doing them all along but they were obvious and many more times he hesitated. His father remained silent. When Arturus completed his hours, failing the forms miserably, he remained silent and stared at the ground. He could not even look his father in the eyes. Calmly Nathanol asked “How well do you think you did?” It was the same question he asked everyday and once Arturus could answer with confidence that he had done well. “How did I do? I blew it!” “I failed.” Was all he could say. He managed the courage to look his father in the eyes. They looked as blue as the sky much like Arturus’s own. But while Arturus had a look of youth, Nathanol’s were hard with the stare of one who had seen to many battles and too many deaths. Yet there was a slight grin at the corner of his mouth. “Eat, then run back home and help with the chores.” Nathanol turned and started walking towards the estate.


Arturus ran as hard as he could, Iron rod in hand, towards the estate. He ran harder than usual punishing himself for his mistakes. He ran until his heart felt like it would pound through his chest and his legs were on fire. He swung the iron rod and weeds as he ran by to work his frustration out. As he began the run through a tract of trees he became aware of the smell of  a cook fire which might have been doused at his approach. As well as nature going quiet. He stopped and held the rod as though it were  a sharpened blade. A twig snapped behind him and to his right and he turned to face it quickly but the movement he felt came from behind after that. He turned again with a swing and while he was aiming for what he thought would be a head he was surprised to see a sword go flying off into the woods and a disembodied head looking down at him. He didn’t have time to react to the second movement behind him that put a blade to his neck. “Drop the weapon boy!” Arturus dropped the rod that landed with a solid thunk on the earth floor.  The disembodied head threw back what Arturus could now see was a cleverly colored cloak that allowed the man to blend in with his surroundings. The man was tall and muscular with a shaved head with the exception of a top knot. A shieneran no doubt, but why this far from the borderlands? The man had a scar on the bottom of his chin and another on his right eyebrow and looked down with an emotionless face at Arturus. Arturus knew the man would have no remorse about killing him. The voice behind Arturus said “Sanje. Tell Marwyn its just a boy. Ask her what she wants us to do with him.” The tall man, Sanje he was called, turned walked towards the trees and seemed to disappear. Arturus noticed it was not just any ordinary cloak, it blended with whatever was in the area. The voice behind Arutus seemed seemed amused. “Sanje has never been disarmed before. Your form is pathetic but I have never seen anyone move so fast or strike so hard, it will be a shame if we must kill you.” Sanje stepped back out of the forest with a woman with pale skin and raven colored hair wearing a green silk dress. She turned to Sanje with an amused smile on her face “So this boy is the one who disarmed you Sanje?” The tall Shieneren only looked down at her, his face utterly expressionless. “Retrieve your sword Sanje.” The woman walked in front of Arturus and looked him over still wearing her amused smile. She seemed to be sizing him up. “ Not muscular but fit and trimmed, young but still old enough to be called a man in this place, the tan skin tells me you spend much of your time outside and the black hair tells me your not a full blooded Andorman… interesting.” Marwyn began to walk around Arturus until she was behind him and around him until she stood in front of him once more as Sanje came out of the trees with his sword which now had a very large circular dent. Marwyn’s smile was no longer just amused but rather genuine as though they had all been friends for years. “Lower your sword Adoni its alright. Whats your name boy?” Arturus felt the blade come off his neck but still sensed the presence of the weapon. He knew Adoni had not put it away. “Arturus Logres.” The woman raised an eye brow “Logres you say? Well it happens to be that we are here to see a Nathanol Logres. Any relation?” Marwyn folded her arms between her breasts and Arturus noticed that the dress was way to tight and almost see through. The neck line also was low cut. It was not a dress a decent Andor woman would wear. She saw him stairing and he quickly regained his composure “He is my father my lady.” She turned to Sanje. “Bring our horses. Arturus will lead us to his father.” Sanje nodded and eyed Arturus warily as Arturus kneeled to pick up his  iron rod. As he stood he saw Marwyn standing not two feet away from him. She was shorter than him he noticed and yet she had a commanding sort of presence to her. She continued to study him and had a coy smile when she saw how he held his weapon. “You hold your weapon like it’s a dear lover. You should be carefull of that young Arturus. It brings very vivid images to mind.” Arturus was dumbfounded “Did she just... nah she couldn’t have.” Sanje appeared from the trees with the three horses. Marwyn mounted hers but Arturus took note that both  Sanje and Adoni, who Arturus could now see was an older man with short peppered white hair and blue eyes but still had color to his two days or so worth of facial hair. He was shorter than Arturus with slightly tea stained teeth and dark clothes of brown and green. He seemed to have a grace and litheness compared to Sanje who was as stiff as the rod of iron Arturus now carried. They set out towards the estate with Arturus in the lead.


Arturus arrived late at the estate since he had to walk. His father was red with anger when Arturus approached and his mother who had been outside talking to her husband had a look of worry that instantly went away when she saw him. She had lines in her face from worry Arturus noticed. He had never noticed his mother was growing old and he felt bad that he had made her worry even though it may not have been his fault. Who knows if they would have stopped him had he kept running? Nathanol’s face went back to its normal tan color and a flash of recognition came upon his face upon seeing who Arturus was with. Nathanol met them half way up the road. “Sanje, Adoni. Nice to see you again.” Both the men nodded to him. “Marwyn Sedai.” “Did he say Sedai?”  Marwyn dismounted the small white steed she was riding and approached Nathanol. “Nathanol… it is good to see you. We seek a place to rest our head safely, food, and provision for the horses if you are willing.” Nathanol nodded. “Of course Marwyn Sedai. Son, please lead Sanje and Adoni to the stables.” Arturus nodded and left Nathanol and Marwyn alone. As he lead Marwyn’s horse Adoni spoke up “So you have been trained by a Shienar woman and a Sword Master of Andor then?” Arturus nodded “Yes.” “Your father could have been a blade master had he kept at his studies. But what he has done has made a weapon far deadlier than the world can anticipate, at least among swordsmen. Imagine if the queen gave training procedures over to him sheesh!” Adoni shook his head to emphasize his words. Arturus led the white mare into a stable and starting gathering some oats. “What do you mean? How is what my father teaches so different?” It was Sanje who spoke up this time. “I am not sure how your father trained you. But I know that if we fought I would have to overwhelm you with technique. If I did not your blows would soon break my blade and I doubt armor would stop a strike from one who can deliver as much power as you. No I would have to kill you as fast as I could and hope that when I did parry you that you did not knock me off my feet with the force of your strikes.” Arturus doubted that he could knock the tall heavy man over, he doubted that a man on horse back at a full charge could knock the Shienaran over with a lance. The men finished the unsaddling and feeding and approached the estate. Already most of the servants would be finishing their early chores. Arturus returned to his studies but his mind was on the Aes Sedai. He was not sure if  Adoni was a warder, he did not have the colorshifting cloak that Sanje had yet he was as able at hiding as the bigger man. He could not wait to finish his studies to see the Aes Sedai again and find out what she was doing here and for that matter how she knew his father.


At sun down, Arturus entered the dining room for supper. He knew that Marwyn and the others would be there. As he entered, he noticed that others were waiting for him. Except for Sanje who did not even seem to notice he was there. As soon as he sat down Marwyn brought up the first topic. “You know your son disarmed Sanje today.” Sanje grunted in dissaproval of the topic and Nathanol had a look of surprise on his face. Marwyn only smiled and looked at Arturus from the corner or her eyes. “If he were so inclined I would take him to the tower to become a warder.” Nathanol shut that down quickly. “He has realized that his technique is flawed today which means he is learning and it is time to learn proper technique. I will be setting up his recruitment into the Army of Andor next week. It is bad enough that you mixed me up with the tower but I do not approve of the notion of my son becoming a part of it.” Marwyn looked down at her plate now full of chicken and vegetables. “Suit yourself Nathanol but no one has better technique than the warders.” She shot a glance at Arturus and then quickly averted her eyes. “Me a warder? It would be just like the stories mother used to tell me.”  Already Arturus was forming a plan in his mind. If there were other conversations that night, Arturus did not hear them.


Arturus was up while it was still dark. He has hardly slept at all and watched the stables patiently. He was dressed in a dark gray linen shirt and brown breeches. He had his soft leather  boots that went to just below the knees on and laced up. He also had a bed roll on his already saddled horse in the stable. As soon as he saw Marwyn and the others saddle up and leave he was quickly out of the large estate house and on his own horse tracking them. A few miles down the road he came to a stop, the others were all waiting for him. He rode to them wishing he had taken his cloak out of his bag before he started riding with the sudden chill he felt. Both men were looking at him but it was Sanje who spoke up. “Took you long enough.” Marwyn only smiled at him. It would be a long time before they reached the tower. Sanje who seemed cold at first passed the time in camp away by training Arturus as hard as he could, obviously to save some face should the fact that Arturus disarmed him come up in the tower, and Adoni taught him a range of lessons such as proper camouflage, archery, where to strike on the human body as well as a Trolloc body, though Arturus did not believe in Trollocs he listened. There were many other lessons taught but that... is another story...


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