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Approved BT Bio for Sender Filk - CC'ed by the WT

Arath Faringal

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DM Handle: Myyrth

Contact Info: graydon.larsonrolf@gmail.com

Character Name: Sender Filk

Nationality: Andoran

Age: 26

Height: 5’ 11’’

Weight: 192 Ib

Appearance: Sender is a man of many averages. His dark brown hair and short brown beard are

unkempt and with no distinguishable facial features beyond a sort of bluff affability he has been

described as “easy to forget”. An Andoran, he lived in Whitebridge for most of his life the son of a

moderately successful merchant. Physically Sender Filk is not an active man but he possesses a form

built to put on muscle. Broad shouldered but thick around the middle he has a solid posture. Now that

he has traveled to the Black Tower he wears a subdued black coat and pants.

Sender’s only remarkable feature is a pair of penetrating dark eyes which see much and reveal little.

History: As the son of a merchant, Sender Filk had spent much of his life being educated in one way or

another. When he was young it was sums. He had hated that; numbers, sitting in a hot room with his

father stepping slowly around him slapping his palm with a stick in time to the multiplication tables.

Looking outside earned him a rap on the knuckles. When he was older his father tried to impart on

him the business acumen of years spent in the commercial textile business. Often he would reprimand

Sender about the noble work that merchants like him did, bringing wool and linen to people to cloth

their backs, never mind that they didn’t actually make clothes or blankets. Sender was bored with his

life but felt resigned to taking over after his father.

Undoubtedly, if that had been meant to be, he would have driven his father’s business into the ground.

For Sender truly possessed no business savvy whatsoever. As a young man more prone to dreaming

than hard work he was not destined for outrageous success. That is, until the Black Tower began

recruiting. The first time a black coated stranger entered town Filk and his parents had been in the

square shopping at the market. Filk’s two young brothers, Gillan and Orick, ran straight into the man.

He was shorter than average, probably standing 5’ 8’’ at the tallest. He wore a black coat despite

the heat and had a glittering silver sword on his collar. A very real sword rested on his hip. He had

ridden into town on a horse but few beyond the gate guards had marked his passage. Word had gone

through the watch that there was a stranger in the market and a few of them were standing on the

outskirts looking in. Gillan and Orick were running and ducking between the stalls playing some game

of their own devising when Orick rushed ahead and tripped, stumbling straight into the stranger. The

stranger fell into a cart of metal ornaments surprised by the hurtling 12 year old boy. The clatter and

sounds of cursing brought a sudden quiet to the market. Senders mother was rushing towards her sons

as everyone else looked on. Sender held back apprehensive but curious. After a moment the Man

disentangled himself from the cart and apologized to the storekeeper who just stared mutely. With her

sons gathered up Senders mother was apologizing to him

“I am so sorry sir, please forgive my boys.” She said. She was frightened that he might be some noble

or rich soldier. Instead the stranger smiled.

“It is no trouble mad’am. By the light, I am not hurt and your little rapscallions were only playing.” He

turned to the stall owner. “Here man let me pay you for any damages.” The thought of money drew the

man closer and they negotiated out a quick price. The money slipped into the man’s pocket quickly and

the shopkeeper smiled a bit. The stranger turned back to the market and stepped forward.

“My apologies good people of Whitebridge, my name is Killian, I am an Asha’man. In the old tongue

this means Guardian. If you would listen for one moment I bring word from The Lord Dragon Reborn.”

Every sound in the square was suddenly silenced. “I do not mean to cause alarm but you must head

me. Darkness is alive in the world again. Strange and horrible things happen everyday, you all know

the stories. The dead walk, and children disappear in the night. Tarmon Gai’din approaches! The Last

Battle. The Dragon Reborn needs soldiers to help fight the Dark One. Soldiers who can Channel.”

Gasps could be heard around the square. Age old fear awoke in many people’s eyes. Killian continued.

“The end is coming, and brave men must take up a power that they have long been denied. The Dragon

knows that times are hard. He also knows that we must be hard in order to survive them. I will be

outside of the city gates a mile down the road. All those men, young and old, who wish to be tested for

the ability to Channel are welcome. I will stay for the night and the morrow. Good day. With that the

man left, striding with a close group of city watchman trailing far behind. As soon as he was gone the

square exploded with the sound of voices. Fear and surprise ran through the people in the town and

perhaps in some a little bit of curiosity.

When Sender saddled the horse he had finally know that he would be going. Throughout the day he had

tried to push it from his mind. There was no way, why go all that way when you most certainly would

end up failing the test. Then everyone would know. His father would be furious. His brothers wanted

to go see out of pure youthful curiosity, not really understanding what was happening. Sender’s hopes

were much different.

It was only when he was sitting down and the black-coated Asha’man was staring him straight in the

eyes did he begin to doubt himself again. In the middle of the table a black candle sat, the wax dripping

slowly down the side had formed a large puddle on the table as dark as midnight. The flame flickered

slowly in the slight breeze.

“Focus on the candle flame,” Killian said.


Sender woke up in a cold sweat. It was dark and around him was the sound of snoring and shifting. He

was in a barracks for applicants, not even a Soldier yet as they marked their ranks. Tomorrow would

be the last little step and he would be signed over to the Black Tower body and soul. Sender didn’t

know much about the Dark One or battles, but what he knew was that he wanted what the Dragon had.

Power. For the first time in his life he wanted more and knew he could take it. Now that he knew true

power existed in the world, power beyond just coin. He would master it.

Edited by Arath Faringal
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Lovely story-telling! Consider it CC'ed by the White Tower.


Now my usual picky 2 cents worth: please take more care with grammar and punctuation. A miss-placed comma can completely change the meaning of a sentence, which can make it extremely difficult for others to understand what you're trying to say. Not putting any punctuation into a sentence can also make it very difficult to read and follow.


An example: "Often he would reprimand Sender about the noble work that merchants like him did bringing wool and linen to people to cloth their backs and help in their day." Try reading that out loud to yourself. Remember that you cannot pause, take a breath or put any inflection (emotion) in it unless some form of punctuation tells you that you can. You're going to be gasping at the end of that sentence, besides struggling to understand without rereading it.

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