Approved BT Bio for Dearidh Hawtrey, CC'ed by the Band (Yes, we do that).

[Arath Faringal]

Character Name: Dearidh Hawtrey

Age: 24

Home: Caemlyn

Physical Description: Almost six feet tall and quite muscular.  He has a full head of curly brown hair and deep penetrating eyes of a brownish hue.

 

History:  Dearidh Hawtrey was born and raised as the son of a farmer in a small village on the outskirts of Caemlyn.  As the youngest child on the farm his father did not really need Dearidh to fulfill the chores around the farm so he sent him to Caemlyn to be the apprentice of a farrier.  He wanted to give a least one of his children a chance at a life above that of a simple farmer.  So at the age of 12 Dearidh traveled with his father to the big city.  They met with the farrier the night they arrived.  They set up Dearidh’s living arrangements and Dearidh’s father was gone while the night was still young.

   The farrier, John Tunstill, was a very nice man.  Unlike other men Dearidh had met, John was very excited to have an apprentice, and that did not mean happy to have someone to do all the light work for him.  Mr. Tunstill truly did enjoy teaching Dearidh everything he knew about his profession.  Being only a 12 year old boy Dearidh did not absorb everything he was taught but he did learn to care for the animals and he always looked forward to the swordsmanship lessons that John gave him every night when the chores were through.  John Tunstill had been a soldier in the Aiel War and was very proficient at sword handling.  John was a Kandori and as such wielding two swords instead of one and a shield was his preferred method of attack.  And thus this was how Dearidh learned to fight.  Tunstill had taught him not only about horses and swords but all about the world and the experiences he had had on his many travels during the Aiel War.

   One night on his way home from the grocer Dearidh saw three men gathered around a smallish woman in a nook between a blacksmith’s shop.  He could tell she was struggling and was not about to walk on by and leave these brutes to their devices.  He walked across the street, set his groceries down on the ground and tapped one of the men on the shoulder.  “Excuse me sir, but I do not think that this woman truly does wish to have anything to do with you. Sir,” Dearidh said to the man.  All three men turned to face the man who had decided to act as their conscience.  “Whats it to you small fry?” the man in the middle said, “I think we should just squash you like the little bug that you are and go about our business.  Unless of course you have another idea?”  The brute sneered and shared a laugh with his cohorts.  It seemed to Dearidh that he would not get the chance to offer another idea as the three men advanced toward them. Dearidh felt naked without his swords, he had no real idea how to fight without them.  He squared up against the first brute and instantly realized his mistake.  The man on his left had kicked him square in the stomach, bringing Dearidh to his hands and knees, gasping for breath.  The man in front of him kicked at Dearidh’s face, the point of his boot connecting with Dearidh’s chin sending him into the air to land on his back and skid backwards a few feet in the dirt.  He rolled over and got to his knees as the man came to a halt right in front of him.  The brute grasped Dearidh’s hair in a fist and yanked his head back till he was lookin directly in his assailant’s face.  “No, I don’t think we will let you offer another idea,” The man said, his breath reeking of stale brandy,  “In fact, I think this is just what I came out tonight for.  A little taste of some foolish vigilante blood.”   Dearidh dug deep inside himself as the man drew his fist back.  He needed to think of something to get himself out of this. He did not want to die as a victim to some drunken street toughs.  As he kneeled there in the dirt cringing against the blow that he knew would descend upon his face he heard a horrifying scream.  The man let o of his hair and staggered away from him, his hands covering his face.  He held his hands away from his face now, as if staring at them, but all anyone else could look at was the man’s face.  It was engulfed in flames, flames that had begun to spread all over the man’s body.  The brute was screaming like a man being dragged against his wishes into the depths of the underworld.  The man was screaming and people started opening doors and poking their heads out of windows as they watched the man burn alive.  The other men were trying hopelessly to put the fire out.  They finally gave up their efforts and pointed to Dearidh.  In voices loud enough for everyone in the square to hear they denounced Dearidh.  “Darkfriend!  Darkfriend!” They yelled,  “He set our friend on fire with the power.  He will break the world again! Darkfriend!”  With everyone shooting accusatory stares his way Dearidh did the only thing he could think of, He turned and ran home. 

   By the time Dearidh had made it home Mr. Tunstill had already heard the news. The commotion from the square was loud enough to be heard several  streets down from even where they lived.  Dearidh looked questioningly at his mentor, watching him pack provisions into saddlebags and a large pack .  “What are you doing John?” Dearidh asked him, “Where are you off to at this hour?”  The man spoke without ceasing his packing, “I’m not going anywhere Dearidh.  I heard the yelling in the square. ‘Dearidh the Chaneller. Dearidh the Darkfriend.   Kill Dearidh!’  I will not have that. You are going away.  You will go to Tear and find the Dragon. He is granting clemency to male channelers as long as they promise to learn to control and wield their power in support of him.”

And so Dearidh left for Tear in the middle of the night.  Mr. Tunstill, having always treated him as the son he never had, had given him their best horse to travel on and all the provisions he could carry.  The journey was long and by the time he made it to Tear it was near the end of spring and the temperature was rising with the fast approaching summer.  He needed to find the Dragon.  Walking down the muddy streets of the city his gaze fell upon a huge rocklike structure.  Upon closer inspection it appeared to be a massive fortress with banners flying from every parapet.  One banner flew above all the others.  It was a white banner with a red and gold snake with four legs on it.  Dearidh knew that was where he would need to go.  He would find the Dragon there.  It was within this massive fortress that he would begin his new life and learn about his fearful power.

 

[Quibby]

CC'ed.