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Freelander NSW Trainer - No CC Needed


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Name: Gaman Mual


Nationality: Murandy


Age: 42




Hair: Dark Red, almost burgandy


Eyes: Blue


Height: 5'10"




Weapon Score: 8





Gaman grew up as one of three children to a guardsman in the city of Lugard, where they were trained daily in the way of the sword from when they were old enough to walk. Their mother died giving birth to Gaman's youngest sibling, who followed Gaman into the career of being a wagon guard. His other brother went to Andor, chasing after a girl, and their father never wanted anything to do with him after that, as the Lord that he served often cursed about the Andorans raiding his farms and nurtured a dislike of Andorans in the minds of all who served him. As his brother usually ended up in the same place as he, Gaman decided that they work together and split the profits. His brother was fine with the decision, and during a few of their travels together, they managed to see Altara, Tear and Cairhien before they had to split up.




Gaman worked with a band of guards to protect a caravan headed up through the north lands of Cairhien and into the Borderlands, receiving training from the guards with staffs, in return for advice on how to improve their sword-forms, but they got scattered by bandits and the caravan was looted. The few guards remaining and Gaman continued up to Shienar, as it was closer than going back to Cairhien, with the intention of joining up with another caravan. When they got to Shienar, one of the guards went to a tavern and got drunk, spreading what happened to the caravan they were travelling with. As soon as that spread, none of the caravans heading south, out of the Borderlands wanted to hire them, as they believed that the few surviving men carried bad luck. Gaman spent a couple of months in the Borderlands, training with proper swordsmen who had fought Trollocs their entire lives. He had believed he was at least their equal when he arrived, but was quickly disabused of that notion after the first practice session. They were impressed with his footwork, but his handling of the blade was sloppy, which they gradually helped him improve upon. Gaman was nowhere near blademaster status, but he was more apt to defend himself against multiple attackers, if not defeat them. Gaman found extra training available for his newly-found staff, as well as a small bow he bought from one of the shops in the city.


Gaman eventually experienced his first sighting of what Trollocs could do, about three months after he had arrived. He ventured out with some Shienarans to the scene of the raid, and couldn't hold his breakfast in. The other men saw no shame in it, for which he was grateful. One had even handed him a kerchief to wipe his mouth and curling moustaches. After that, a few caravans travelling along the Borderlands took him on, and he saw more Trolloc attacks, and even saw a Trolloc, much to his surprise. He hadn’t taken part in the killing of it, merely drawing its attention somehow and while it charged at him the Borderlanders brought it down. He wandered near enough to see what it really was, and found that he was a bit frightened of it, even though it was dead. Soon after, Gaman actually managed to kill his first Trolloc, and he felt giddy as he had only as a child. The other men clapped him on the back, and Gaman was proud that even though he was a southerner, he could stand alongside the Borderlanders and fight with them.




Gaman finally found a caravan heading down south, and almost regretted it, as his time at the Borderlands had taught him quite a lot about life. On the way down to Andor, bandits ambushed the caravan he was travelling with, but Gaman and the other guards managed to fend them off, but not before Gaman took an arrow from bandits in the knee, leaving him with a pronounced limp and a constant need for a staff for support. In return, they had killed seven of the bandits, of which Gaman killed two, and taken two prisoners, to be taken to trial in Andor. Once he reached Andor, Gaman sold his armour and bought himself a nice, sensible brown coat that hung to his knees, along with a placid horse and started travelling, wanting to see more of the world before he got too old, and share his knowledge, whether it be in the form of weapon training or stories of his travels.

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