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Approved WK Bio for Myra Gailene - CC'd by CotS


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Character Name: Myra Gailene

DM Handle: Desiree/Poledra Sedai (username)

Email address: DesireeDryad@hotmail.com

Age: 21

Gender: Female

Place of Birth/Raising: Ghealdan/Tuatha’an wagons



Physical Description: Myra Gailene is somewhat short at a height of 5’3” and nothing to brag about as she’s just a little bit on the plump side. Just like the people she grew up with, she wears nothing short of colorful and patchy to match the wagons. Myra’s also fascinated with jewelry of all kinds and has a hidden treasure of necklaces, bracelets, rings, and piercings. However, the only thing she wears is a silver ring with the Serpent wrapped around a star that was left with her. Even though she has a large selection of burettes, she doesn’t wear those, either, like most of the girls do. She prefers to leave her dark brown hair short and with just a little bit of edge using water to lightly spike it. However, due to a childhood accident, she has a scar on her right shoulder blade that resembles a featherless wing.



Character History:


As a baby, Myra Gailene was dropped off with a passing Tuatha’an caravan by a poor Ghealdan jewel crafter on the verge of losing his business. Unable to afford to keep up with a baby, he and his wife decided it best to hand the girl over to a more free-spirited way of life than a life restricted in experience because of a lack of money. The girl was taken in by a caring young Tuatha’an couple who had recently suffered a stillborn birth. The two couples spoke no words as they were introduced, the tears and love in their eyes spoke louder than anything either of them could have said. The Ghealdan family left, knowing their baby was in safe and caring hands.


Myra grew up faster than most of the children around her, but that was because she had been such a troublemaker. She’d always go around trying to ride the dogs with the boys, hiding frogs in the Shatayan’s bed, and climbing dangerously high trees. It was that last that helped her decide to change. After falling from a good ten feet or more onto your back on a tree stump and being bedridden for a good couple of months, one often rethinks their actions and way of life. However, one habit remained with her – her fascination with sparkly jewels. Ever since she could remember, she’d always pick up lost jewelry on the streets when in towns and she’d hide them away in her dresser in her wagon.


Though she started paying attention more to the Shatayan’s cooking lessons, her mother’s embroidery lessons, and the Wise Woman’s lectures on herbs and their uses, the one thing that kept her heart soaring were the stories about the Song the Mahdi would preach. A world at peace with itself, weapons put away for good and forgotten, and the people prospered. It filled her dreams, her visions – and soon her life. Though she had grown up mentally before most of the others around her, she grew bored with her everyday life of cooking and patchwork. She was almost 19 years old and had no potential in her life if she stayed here. She was ready to have a chat with the Mahdi…


“Myra, are you sure you want to do this? It seems like only yesterday when I’d hear my wife screaming that you were putting toads in her bed once again. You’re too young for such a dangerous task. The cities aren’t near as safe as our caravans are,” he protested. But her youth was the reason why she felt she needed to do this. She could see and hear more of the world than an older man such as himself, learn of more hidden mysteries of the Song than he. Myra had made up her mind; she was going to venture out to learn more about the Song.


A couple weeks later she was dropped off in Baerlon with a few coins her family could gather for her and began her journey. A couple years went by with little incident and a few extra things she’d never have known about the Song if she’d have stayed. However, one night had changed her life forever.


It was a cool, crisp, and cloudless sky and the light rays of the approaching sun made the dew glisten in the wee hours of the morning. The birds were starting to wake and sing her their melody of the dawn when a twig snapped close to her. The birds went quiet. She lay there silent and hopeful that whatever threatened her would pass by. That’s when a figure of a tall man loomed over her with a large grin. He looked like he had gotten in more than his fair share of fights with a nose broken at least twice and a couple of missing teeth. Myra gasped as his hand reached out for her blanket – and before she could blink the man was yelling in pain, clutching his arm, and running off screaming about a rabid dog. Myra looked over at her protector and was amazed to see a wolf sitting beside her, staring at her for a few minutes, and then walking off into the forest.


Since then, she felt a deep appreciation of the dwellers of the forest floors and the quiet warning of the songbirds. Sometimes, she’d wake up from a cold sweat with fear of actually hunting animals alongside wolves. Myra was a Tinker, one of the followers of the Way of the Leaf. Even hunting animals was looked down upon. Though these were far and few in between, they stuck in her memory as if they were a part of who she was. Her wanderlust was getting the better of her, so she decided to stop by the Inn in Baerlon she was left at with her old friend. It took her two days to reach the city and the inn was in sight. She waved at a playful pair of kids, but for some reason they went all wide-eyed and ran off. She must have more dirt on her than she thought. As she stepped into the Inn, that’s when she started looking herself over to dust herself off. It was odd how there seemed to be more worn out patches today than there were a few days ago.


That’s when a glittering of jewelry or something to the side of the inn caught her attention. There was a figure wearing a hat in a bench next to the window looking her up and down. She shuddered, unsure of what to make of this character – and the fact that the glittering gold seemed to come from their eyes when the sun shone on them.

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