Yrean was slightly taken aback with the girls reaction to his appearance at her table, although she had obviously been through some of the training the White Tower provided, she had yet to master that aloofness that most members of the White Tower thought was so important. Either that or the usual aloofness of the Aes Sedai was forgotten about for the moment.

“It be important for you to be keeping up your strength, Accepted. You be the one who do be healing complete strangers without asking them.” Yrean signalled to one of the serving girls and when she arrived at their table he order his food and without looking at kiyi, ordered the same for her.

“You do be taking a risk though, using the One Power without an Aes Sedai being there to chaperone you. Be you thinking you be in trouble if they be finding out?” Yrean did his best to moderate his Illian accent, but even so he could not change the way he spoke completely.

“It may be none of my business, but I be thinking it be best if I be accompanying you on your return to the Tower in case you be in trouble. I be no wanting you punished for helping me.”

If any be punishing this slip of a girl it would be me.

As Yrean thought on the matter of punishment, he also thought about ways to remain near this meddling wench, until he could make his mind up about how he was going to proceed he needed to be as close to her as it was possible. Thankfully, from his time as a Tower Guard, he knew the routines the guards used and was sure he could get in and out of the Tower without too much trouble. No matter how secure a place may seem to be there was always a way in. Some may be of the unpalatable kind, some may be of the obvious kind, but whichever they were there was always a way in.

It was not long before the food arrived and Yrean ordered a tankard of Dark for himself and a glass of water for Kiyi. The young woman looked askance at her food, whereas Yrean grabbed his fork and tucked in with gusto.

As he ate, Yrean, surreptitiously, studied Kiyi, committing her features to memory. A plan was slowly forming in his mind regarding his future actions towards this girls survival, or lack there of. Taking a drink from his tankard, an idea suddenly came to Yrean how he could rid himself of this troublesome pest, and with no risk to himself.

No matter what city, or town you were in there was always a way to find people who would do certain jobs with no questions asked if the remuneration was to their liking. Now all Yrean had to do was find these people and explain the plan to them. Once they saw the amount of gold he would be offering he was sure there would be no way they would refuse him.

Suddenly the food tasted that much better, and the ale that much sweeter. There was nothing like a problem solved to make things seem that much better.

“So, what be your reasoning for wanting to be an Aes Sedai, Kiyissalle?” While he waited for Kiyi to answer, yrean refilled her cup from the tea pot. Just because the date for her death had been set that did not mean he could not be polite to her. Manners cost so little and usually produced results that far out weighed the cost.

Yrean stood there, eyes boring into the back of the woman’s skull as she moved away from him. Suddenly she turned around and her gaze caught Yrean’s, only for a short moment, before she continued on her way. But in that moment, Yrean realised she knew far more than she should have, or at least she suspected she did. That supposition left him with an awkward dilemma, he did not want to leave any lose ends, especially as he knew from time to time he would need to return to Tar Valon.

"Why be it that there be always some entanglement in this bloody city?"

Yrean watched as she rounded a corner, counting slowly to ten, he then started to follow her. Keeping to what shadows there were, Yrean was able to follow her, without being noticed, and saw her enter a small establishment that served food and drink. This was the perfect opportunity for him, a chance to get something to eat which was always necessary after a Healing and to find out more about this mysterious stranger who without his by your leave had so casually Healed him.

However, Yrean did not enter immediately, instead taking a moment to think through what he was going to do. Right now the last thing he needed was further entanglement with anyone associated with Tar Valon, or more relevantly, the White Tower. But what were his choices here? He could just keep on walking and disappear from the city without a trace. He could befriend this young woman, but who knows where that could lead. Which left only one option, to kill her.

The more he thought about it, the more it seemed to him, that killing her was the only safe, viable, option. Having made his mind up was about to push open the door and enter the establishment when he suddenly realised he was planning to kill someone who’s only crime was to help him. That help had come unbidden, and without any strings, but even so it was help that was offered freely, and here he was contemplating another murder. Obviously the time he had spent with Cari had had a bigger effect on how he saw life than he had realised. It was one thing to kill the people who had robbed him and burnt down his shop, their actions had led to the consequences of last nights work.

However, this young girl had done nothing but help him and he still thought the only way out of this situation was to kill her.

The casualness that he reached this decision with shocked him and on another day would have led him to turn around and disappear to contemplate his proposed actions. That could not happen in this case, as he wanted away from Tar Valon as quickly as possible and without leaving any loose ends.

Smoothly Yrean opened the door and slipped inside, moving with a grace that was easily recognised by those who knew the training. But there was more than that. Another of Cari’s legacies had been the training she had put Yrean through and because of that the grace he moved with was accentuated even more. To say his movements were fluid, would be like saying a river was wet, nothing more than stating the obvious.

It took only a moment for Yrean to locate where she was sitting and without further thought he moved across the room to her table and without asking he sat down opposite her. Her eyes opened wide in astonishment, whether from shock or pretend outrage he did not know, or care. He had decided that the time they spent together here would be the deciding factor in whether she lived or died this day.

“You be no giving me time to thank you for your actions. I be called Yrean and I be finding myself in need of some food after your help this morning. Be I able to pay for your meal as recompense for your action this morning, Accepted?” He raised one eyebrow at her while holding her gaze. Her fate was now in her hands, how her future would unfold, and even if she had a future, would be decided over a meal and a couple of drinks. The fact she did not know this did not weigh heavily on Yrean. He had not asked her to interfere in his life, but she would now have to pay a price for that interference. What that price was, her actions and words would now dictate.

Who said it was a Wolfie that wanted to eat that?

I was merely responding to your request for a "roll" call :P

Can i have a cheese and pickle on granery please?

Basic Information

Handle : Chikara

Character Count : 1

Full names of WT characters you already own and their status (active/retired/dead): none

Contact email: coffeeachiever01@gmail.com

Character Information

State whether this is a Traditional or a Salidar novice character: Traditional novice

Name (first and last): Bennu Abravanel

Age: 17

Nationality: Tear

Appearance

Hair: Black. Long, coarse, and straight, refusing to hold a curl. She'd love to cut it to shoulder length, but it would make her sainted mother very sad.

Eyes: Dark brown.

Skin: Dusky bronze; gets darker when exposed to sun.

Height: 5'4”

Voice: Sharp, staccato alto, very precise in her enunciation. Strong Tairen accent that she's somewhat ashamed of, and is trying to train to something more neutral.

Personality

Bennu is one of those people that was born to be a scholar; growing up with parents who serve as librarians and encourage learning pretty much sets your path in life. After all, knowledge is a power you can carry around quite easily, while lands and money are not...although those are awfully nice too. Despite being of noble blood, she has absolutely no qualms about working for a living.

Like most of her countrywomen, Bennu and 'restraint' have never met. Ask her an opinion on your holiday dress or the young man you both just met: she'll give it to you straight, and look at you funny if you seem offended at her answer should it be negative. Let it be known that Bennu honestly thinks she's doing this sort of thing for your benefit, because what's the point of you going out in an ugly dress anyway, or being interested in a man that's clearly no good for you? And for the love of the Light, don't argue with her on a question of history or something where the answer is in a book: she will find the answer, point it out to you, and then you're arguing with a stop sign because the answer is right *there*. End of discussion: either ask another question not related, or have a nice day.

That lack of restraint also applies to how she learns. “Devote yourself, give yourself to this fully, and no book will be closed to you when you gain the shawl,” the Aes Sedai told her – no point in telling her that, because that's how Bennu rolls to begin with. She always gives her all to whatever comes first in her life; before that boat ride from Tear it was being a librarian, now it's being a Novice in the Tower. The training in the Tower will bring more dividends, and Bennu is nothing if not practical. This does not mean she is wise; she'll be seeing the Yellow Ajah more than she'd like because she tends to push herself beyond her limits.

Bennu's love of order comes straight from her Cairhienin roots. Some might call her a neat freak, but she doesn't give a flip; everything has to be just so. Books are always put back exactly where she got them from, her clothes are always laid out just right...dust, damp, and things out of alphabetical order are nightmares for her. She has been known to toss a piece of paper and rewrite things just because she didn't like how a single letter in her script turned out. Bennu will have one of the neatest rooms in the White Tower, and people will feel twinges of sympathy for the roommate that has to endure this.

History

The daughter of a minor Tairen noble house that lost most of its fortune in a civil war some time back, Bennu has long been accepting of the fact that she would have to work for her living, though other nobles are polite enough not to mention that in polite company. However, her family parleyed their influence, along with an unexpected gift, long ago to become some of the keepers of a rather large library in the country's capital city. Her father, Ohava, is one of the chief archivists while her mother uses her skills with pen, ink and paint to illuminate and repair documents. If you want to find anything in the Library, find an Abravanel.

They've never talked about it much, but the library grew out of a bequest from a distant relative about a century ago. They received a package from Tar Valon that contained a rather hefty bequest to the family ' in remembrance of my kin, to keep lit the flame of learning'. Given that Maira Abravanel had gone to the Tower and they'd never heard from her since then (of course) House Abravanel quietly kept the source of the funding under wraps; Tear would look upon that with suspicion.

So, Bennu grew up around books. She was learning to spell out words by the time she was three, and her father and mother gave her the best education their money and influence could buy. Her greatest dream, as she grew up, was to become one of the librarians at the Royal Library in Cairhien. However, her father refused to let her even apply; Cairhien was too far away, and she was needed there. Besides, he said, that wasn't a woman's place. That made her teeth grind. There had to be something she could do beyond work at home.

Then one day an Aes Sedai wearing a brown-fringed shawl appeared. She was looking for references to a specific historical occurrence during the Hawkwing years, though she would not be more specific. The Abravanels were not fools; they admitted her to the library immediately, released all their records, and stayed out of her way. Bennu was working in the stacks that day; curious as to why an Aes Sedai would need their lowly library where all but eight of the books they owned were in modern-day tongues, she quietly noted what the Aes Sedai chose, and thought. About an hour into the woman's research, Bennu walked up with four more books and placed them to the side of the long desk.

“My apologies at interrupting, but these may help your studies as well, Aes Sedai.” she said quietly, and refreshed the venerable lady's tea. “However, they may not,” she added after a moment.

The Aes Sedai marked her spot in the text, picked up the cup, and gave her a long look. “And why would you say that, child?”

Bennu shrugged, putting down the teapot. “The book you're going through now draws on these four primarily for its research and conclusions. But, the originals were in Old Tongue, and the author admits his understanding of the language had unfortunate gaps, so some of his theories and conclusions might be incorrect. As I only know a few words and phrases in Old Tongue myself, I have no idea if the translations of the four original texts are accurate – but I brought them to you for further reference anyway, just in case you'd want to look at them.”

The brown-shawled woman glanced to the stack of books. “I see. And why would you tell me this?”

“Because, I dislike watching anyone engaged in what could be fruitless research, Aes Sedai. Isn't that what librarians are supposed to do – assist people in finding the right answers?”

There was a pause. “A true scholar, but so young. And your name is...”

“Bennu Abravanel, Aes Sedai.”

Those sharp eyes went over Bennu's face again. “Maira's kin. Yes. She was a sharp sister, and...I wonder...”

“Aes Sedai?”

“Meryani. Meryani Sedai is my name, and...would you mind doing something for me? Tell me what you see when you look at this stone in my hand, here....”

Things went very fast after that. Not twenty minutes later, Meryani Sedai was standing with the young girl in front of her father and relatives, politely refusing the offer of tea and a snack from his wife.

“Lord Abravanel, I'm afraid that your library did not have what I needed, but I did find something else of greater use.” She patted Bennu's shoulder. “ This is your daughter, yes? She can channel. So I'm afraid we both must be going on the first ship, as is Tairen custom.”

Bennu really didn't hear the rest of the conversation through the general family uproar, dominated by the moans of her mother and the heartfelt oaths of her father, who'd never sworn in her presence before. But there was really nothing anyone could do.

Not two hours later, she was watching the sun going down over Tear from the stern of the ship headed to Tar Valon, feeling the wind plucking at the hem of her traveling dress. She'd be burning that as soon as she was in novice whites, the Aes Sedai told her.

“I am sorry, child, but we must not lose you to the world. Commit yourself to the years of training before you, give yourself to this fully...and I promise you, no book will be closed to you when you gain the shawl.” The last words of the Aes Sedai rang in her head as she took off the jeweled cap she'd grown so used to wearing, shook her hair loose, and gave a laugh that was close to tears.

Careful what you wish for....you just might get it.

Character: Elin Hawes

DM Handle: Phelix

Number of Characters: 1st

Age: 16

Height: 5’5”

Weight: 130lbs

Hair: Black, worn under a bonnet per Amidician custom

Eyes: Dark Brown

Biography: Elin was born moments before her twin brother Nile in a small town in Amadicia into a baker’s family. Elin, her mother and older sisters would knead dough all day, while her father ground the wheat and her brothers cared for the milk cow and the chickens. It saved a significant sum to do their own milling. On the other side of town a rival miller did everything he could to force the Hawes family out of town or at least out of business. Finally, the rival miller did the unthinkable. He scrawled the Dragon’s Fang on their door, in full view, during broad daylight.

His claim was that Nile was a channeler, that he was tainted by the Shadow, was forsaken by the Light, and would go mad and kill them all. Neighbors who had watched Elin and Nile grow up turned against them. No one wanted to be reported to the Children of the Light. Elin’s father held her in his arms, locked inside their home, while her brother was put to the stake and burned. That happened when they were 13 years old.

As time went on, Elin began to notice little things happening around her. The loaves of bread she baked came out perfect, even when she knew the oven wasn’t heating properly on the right side where Nile had knocked out a pair of bricks. The milk cow’s calve took sick, but got better when Elin sat watch over it. The old miller’s millstone broke in half, not once, but twice on the anniversary of Nile’s death. After each of these events, she had a horrible fever. The village hedge doctor couldn’t find anything wrong with her, and secretly told her parents he thought it might be some witchery sent on her by her cursed brother’s ghost.

On her 16th Birthday, Elin wandered out into the woods, hoping to get away from anyone who knew it was also Nile’s birthday. Sitting alone, under a tree, she began talking with her dead brother. Telling him about her year, about what the people in the town still said of him. As she did that, she felt a warmth fill her. There was a glow, just beyond the edge of her vision, and she knew it was Nile. He told her that he really could channel, and that he still could. She felt him behind her, moving, and suddenly a small tornado formed in front of them. Only a few feet tall, it wasn’t a threat, but it told her Nile was still with her in a very real way.

Without warning, the warmth and her brother were both gone, and she fell over retching to her side. She laid there in the woods, sick and puking for two days until her father found her and carried her back to their home. All the while, in her fever baked mind, she called out for Nile. When she was well, no one would look at her the same. They thought her insane, possessed or worse.

One night, her mother told her to take as much of her clothing as she could, gave her a small leather purse with silver coins in it, and took her to a traveling merchant’s wagon, where some of that silver and several loaves of bread bought Elin a seat on the wagon to Caemlyn. The trip was uneventful, and the merchant kind. In Caemlyn he even recommended her to another baker, so she could earn her own way.

What Elin didn’t learn, until much later, was that the merchant and the baker both were Eyes and Ears to an Aes Sedai. The sister herself came by the bakery, and upon meeting Elin declared she would make a fine novice, block or no block.

Sparker Application:

Has your character started channeling before arriving at the tower: Yes

If yes, explain the circumstances/frequency with which she has channeled: a few times, as listed above in the bio, always while thinking of her dead twin.

If yes, has your character experienced the channeling sickness? What happened? Yes, she had fever and it marked her as tainted by her brother’s “evil.”

Your character should have a block? What is it? She believes that she is not the one channeling, that it is her brother who could channel, she is simply the only one who can see him. When that is proven impossible, she will no longer be able to touch saidar. She had learned to channel by submitting to another "person" like one has to submit to control saidar, but now that she knows the other person is not there, she will need to unlearn that, and relearn how to embrace the source.

How will your characters block be broken? She will hide her block, at first. When asked to channel, she will nod to her brother, and make sure he heard the instructions, and does as she was told. Once it is revealed, some sisters will be kind and try to reason with her, that no man (dead or alive) could weave saidar, that Nile cannot be there because no one else can sense him in any way; while other sisters will try to force her to acknowledge reality by harsher means. She would eventually be sat down with a full sister who requests to use the twinned mirror ter'angreal that allow a person to see either saidin or saidar (If they are available, they're listed on the White Tower website), and would be shown that the flows are coming from her, not from another person, and are made of saidar not the male half of the source.

This is when she would stop being able to touch the source at all. At that point, she will have been channeling for some time, and so will feel the pull of saidar that one feels when they try to abstain from channeling. She will have lessons, rather block breaking sessions, with the same Aes Sedai who showed her the mirrors, during which the Aes Sedai tries every trick she can think of to force Elin to channel on her own. Ideas for those tricks could be small prank weaves meant to irritate, walls of air that keep Elin from completing tasks, to even linking with Elin (because Elin has channeled, and would be holding herself so close to actually embracing the source, it should be easy for an Aes Sedai to pull her into a link) which would let Elin feel the Power again, but wouldn't actually teach her how to embrace it herself.

After months of sessions (3-4 threads) Elin will be given an impossible chore, perhaps she is told to clean out an entire stable in one evening, or told to scrub the Novice Quarter's common floors before going to bed. After a few nights of failing at whichever task she is given, she will collapse, give in, and fully surrender to the idea that she cannot do it under her own physical power. At which point, she will see the glow of saidar, be very angry at it, and give up on ever attaining it for herself. Just as she gives up, the glow will fill her again, and her block will be broken. She will then use the Power to finish her chore. The Aes Sedai who assigned it might be lenient and forgive her for using saidar unsupervised, or she might send her to the MoN for punishment.

Please outline RP ideas you have for the future if your character is allowed to be a sparker/wilder:

• To begin with, her first lessons will involve Nile, though her later ones will involve being unable to channel at all.

• She will always have a strong interest in sparkers with mental blocks, and will want to work with them to break those blocks

• She could seek to study ter'angreal that have to deal with souls or Spirit in general, perhaps traveling to Tear, going through the twisted door to the 'finn's world and asking if Nile could channel, and two more questions

• Her studies on souls could lead her into tel'aran'rhiod; I'm not sure if I'd like to apply for her to become a Dreamwalker, but even without being a Dreamwalker, she could use a Dreaming ter'angreal to find her way there in search of answers about whether some souls live on there (she would find hints of this in books about tel'aran'rhiod that mention seeing long dead historical figures)

• That same research could lead her to encountering Wolfkin in the Dream, and lead to her traveling to their stedding to learn from them

• Elin would have a strong sense of justice, and would work to protect fledgling channelers, perhaps (once she is a sister) she would spend a significant portion of her time traveling looking for sparkers of either gender, to send them to their proper Tower

Still here and still waiting on Liitha to reply. She did half a reply, if you can call it that, and was supposed to have finished it by now, but has not.

Cara Ramsey

Aes Sedai of the Brown Ajah

WT BC

Bonded to Liitha Gaidin

    Despite the slight increase in the temperatures Cara still felt like a block of ice and the tiredness she felt only added to the feeling of cold. However she was determined to not show weakness in front of Liitha, Cara knew that if she did Liitha would only start fussing even more over Cara than she did already. So Cara concentrated on sitting straight and upright in her saddle, and made sure to keep the conversation light so as to show no discomfort.

    As they rode along, Lii pointed out different types of birds and animals, sometimes adding comments about their suitability for eating. Even though the ride was not too long or strenuous Cara was grateful when they rode into a small clearing and Lii called a halt for the day. This was obviously the campsite that Liitha had mentioned earlier. Dismounting as elegantly as her aching muscles would allow, Cara stamped her feet on the hard ground, trying to work some circulation back into them. Despite the felt lined boots she wore, and a double pair of woollen socks, her feet felt like two blocks of ice. “So what do you have next on the agenda Lii?”

   The shining walls of the city loomed ever larger in the distance, totally dominating the surrounding county side. Yrean slowed his horse to a walk and studied the vista in front of him. It had been sometime since he had last visited this city and upon leaving he had sworn that he would never return, there were too many painful memories associated with this place for him. However, he also had unfinished business in the city and now he had the information that he needed to allow him to complete matters, but he was in no rush to arrive and decided to spend one more night outside the city in a small inn he had stayed at before. The next morning Yrean was awake before dawn and after packing his saddlebags made his way to the common room to break his fast.

   Yrean arrived at the city mid afternoon and immediately made his way to the dock area. He kept his hood up and did his best to avoid any areas that he used to frequent. His purpose was solely business and he wanted to conclude his business as soon as possible.

   The inn he stayed at had the amusing name of the Spanked Woman and a smile came unbidden at the sight of the sign, gently swinging in the light breeze. Some said it was a painting of the owner and his wife, who was being chastised. Yrean had never been able to confirm this, but it was an amusing story none the less. Entering the inn he found the common room to be half full, mostly with dockworkers and stevedores who had finished their work for the day. Because of this there was much raucous laughter and a Gleeman was just starting his performance, playing a fiddle and singing some song about a wayward woman who was caught by her husband in a delicate position.

   Dumping his saddlebags on the floor in front of the bar, Yrean spoke quickly with the owner and after a short conversation made his way to his room. After closing and barring the door, Yrean stowed his gear and then lay on the bed, resting as much as he could. His business would take place during the hours of darkness and he wanted to be as rested as possible.

   Yrean finally left his room, three hours after the sun had set, and ate a hasty meal in the common room, washed down by a tankard of Dark. Leaving the Spanked Woman Yrean made his way through back alleys to where his shop used to stand. It had been destroyed in a fire and Yrean and Mat had only just got away with their lives, although their clothes were singed and Yrean’s eyebrows had been burned clean off and still had not grown back properly. Concealed by the shadow cast by a tall building, Yrean observed the area, making note of the changes since he had last been here. He paid particular attention to the rooftops, a favourite way of getting around for him and one that still provided the easiest route of escape for him. Many times his use of the rooftops had saved his life or allowed him to confuse anyone who had tried to follow him.

   Finally satisfied, Yrean made his way further into the deep shadows before finding the spot he was looking for. His ascent was swift and surefooted, having climbed buildings since he was a child in his home city of Illian. It was while he was there on a visit that he had come across the information that he had been searching for and would now make use of. The climb was not a hard one and soon Yrean emerged onto the rooftop and started to make his way across the roofs to North Harbour. When he got within range of the location he was searching for, Yrean settled down behind a large chimneystack and watched the surrounding houses for activity.

   This part of the city was still fairly busy and it was a few more hours before the late night revellers had returned to their homes. Not wanting to take any chances, Yrean stayed in position until he was certain the city was quiet and then made his move. He first sorted through the gear he had taken along, leaving his bow and quiver behind the chimneystack, along with his sword and a few other items. All the weapons he now carried were for close quarters fighting several concealed throwing daggers, a mace and a longer dagger, that was almost a short sword. Carefully he made his way across the roof to towards his target, jumping the few feet between the buildings and landing with cat like grace. Scanning the roof, Yrean soon located a few loose roof tiles and started to remove them, making sure they would not slide off the roof and alerting the people inside. Eventually he had made a hole large enough for him to be able to enter the house and he dropped silently through the hole.

   It took him longer than he had expected to find the way out of the loft, but he eventually found the loft hatch and dropped through it to the house proper. He knew the location of the rooms he needed to find and worked swiftly, identifying his targets and deciding on what order he would take them in. Most of the people in the house were males, and all had been implicated in the attack on his shop. He also had a sneaking suspicion they may have supplied information that led to Mat’s capture and subsequent death. This alone marked them out for special treatment and Yrean was only too happy to supply that treatment.

   The first door opened without a sound and Yrean stealthily made his way over to the bed containing the slumbering form of his first victim. Placing his hand over his victim’ mouth, with one swift thrust, Yrean severed the man’s jugular. It was a swifter death than Yrean felt the man deserved, but this was about retribution not punishment. Moving swiftly, Yrean dispatched his targets one by one until there was only one left. Moving to the room of his last target, Yrean had no way of knowing that the occupant of the room had placed a small bell behind the closed door to alert him of any intruders.

   The first Yrean knew of this was when the bell fell over and a loud voice demanded to know who was trying to enter the room. Throwing all caution to the winds, Yrean shoved the door open and dived into the room, narrowly missing the small crossbow bolt that thunked into the doorframe.

   A shaft of moonlight illuminated the room and the man’s face creased up with anger as he recognised his assailant. “You! I thought we had done for you last year.”

   Yrean did not bother to answer the man, but the confirmation that this man had been one of those to target his shop, only caused a minor ripple to slide across the Void. Moving with much more caution now, Yrean advanced on the prone figure, who suddenly jumped out of the bed and lunged at Yrean with a concealed knife. Yrean waited until the last moment and then side stepped the man’s attack. Unfortunately Yrean’s assailant was quicker than Yrean and changed the angle of his attack. His blade penetrated Yrean’s upper arm, glancing off the bone.

   Yrean did not show any outward signs of pain, and cocooned inside the Void it only felt like a fly landing on his skin. However the wound started t o bleed profusely and the blood quickly flowed down Yrean’s arm and started to drip onto the floor. Knowing he had to finish this fight quickly, Yrean feigned pain and loss of concentration and sank to his knees, without taking his eyes off the man. Closing the distance between himself and Yrean, he kicked out aiming for Yrean’s head. However, Yrean was ready for him and swayed to one side, parrying the kick on his uninjured arm and turned most of the blow to one side.

   Yrean stepped away from his adversary, realising that the advantage of surprise would no longer work, Yrean decided on a different tactic. Pulling a throwing knife from its place of concealment, Yrean through it, aiming for the man’s chest. However the man was wise to this and dodged to the left, which was exactly what Yrean had hoped for and a well placed kick to the groin, followed by a bone jarring upper cut laid the man out. Taking a quick breath, Yrean moved swiftly, not knowing if the sounds of the struggle had alerted anyone or not, and grabbing the man’s hair Yrean lifted him from the floor. Reversing his grip on his dagger, Yrean used the pommel to smash the man’s larynx and then dropped him to the floor. As Yrean exited the room, the last sounds he heard were the dying gurgles of his last victim.

   Yrean had a dilemma now, he knew he would need to rest up for a day or so as the wound to his arm was deeper than he had realised. He also knew there would be a hue and cry raised throughout the city over his work this night. Having to explain how he got an obvious knife injury would not be easy, but neither would it be that easy to make his way to a place of refuge. Cutting a strip of cloth from his cloak, Yrean hastily bound up the wound and then made his way back to his lodgings, he needed time to recuperate and hopefully he would have at least a day and night of rest.

   Without bothering to respond to Elynde’s words, Amon pushed his chair back and stood up. “If you want to be one of us there is something that you need to see, and need to see now. If, once you have seen what i have to show you, you are still stuck on this foolhardy course of yours, then we can talk about signing you up. I suppose you will be chaperoning us Ham?”

   A slight nod of the head indicated that Ham was going to accompany them, but there was a slight twist to his mouth that told Amon all he needed to know. I will worry about Ham’s hurt feelings later, for now i have more important things to deal with.

   Amon strode out of the Inn, not bothering to check to see if the girl was going to follow him. Whether she did or not was no concern of his, if she wanted to risk life and limb by following whatever fool hardy course she had set for herself then that was up to her. Amon would do his best to dissuade her.

   It did not take long for Amon to reach the area of the Citadel he was aiming for, it was a well trodden route, for him, and one that had even more poignancy after the recent events.

   Amon lead Elynde and Ham to a small walled off area of the Citadel that was the cleanest and most well kept area inside the walls. The reason why became all too evident as soon as one stepped through the wrought iron gates. Row upon row of graves covered the area bounded by the walls. Some were more elaborate than others, but all of them carried the mark of the Band of the Red Hand, and each grave contained the remains of those who had paid the ultimate sacrifice for the Band. Most had died in bloody battle, screaming their lungs out as they died a messy, nasty death. In all of the songs sung about the Band, not one of them touched on this side of things, except for one song, and Amon had heard that more times than he ever wanted to.

   Standing inside the gates, Amon abruptly turned around and faced Elynde. “Take a good look around this place, read the names engraved here, take in what this place means. This is your ultimate reward for joining us, and there is nothing i can do to prevent that.” Amon paused for a moment, letting the portent of his words sink in, and then continued. “If you still want to join us, and share in this dubious reward then i am sure Ham will show you to my Office.”  Amon paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on one particular grave. It was not as elaborate a grave as some, but that in no way diminished the importance of the person buried there.

   Without another word, or a glance backwards, Amon strode out of the cemetery, his back as straight as a ram rod, his pace driven by the urgent need to get away from this reminder of so many past events that he would prefer not to remember.

She did you know, and she has bandy legs ;)

Brat

Tay made me say it...........i just wanted to say "Hi and welcome to the Wolfkin"........but she insisted on me sayign brat ::)

Basic Information

Handle: Raeyn

Character Count: This will make 3

Contact: raeynsedai@yahoo.com

Character Information

Name: Milandra Basene

Age: 15

Nationality: None (Tar Valon)

Appearance

Hair: Black

Eyes: Brown

Skin: Light

Height: 5'6"

Weight: 130lbs

Voice: Cultured; her tutors did their best to make sure she spoke well

Posessing of extremely long, wavy hair, Milandra is a slender woman with high cheekbones, a pert nose, and a full mouth.  Her features could be best described as delicate.

Optional

Special Skills: She is fairly disciplined with a good sense of right and wrong.

Knowledge Weakness: A sheltered life leads to a lack of street smarts.

Personality weakness: Naive, idealistic, and a bit sheltered.

Personality

She is sweet and somewhat biddable, though she generally won't do anything that she deems to be bad.  

History

Milandra is the eldest daughter of Edwin Basene of Arad Doman and Merisan Doredin of Cairhein.  Her parents are both bankers, and met while working in Tar Valon.  Initially rivals, they found they had much in common, and decided to merge their fortunes, wed, and raise a family there in the very town where they met.

Because of this, Milla (as her parents call her) never wanted for anything.  She had the finest tutors money could by, and social connections to all the best people in Tar Valon.  That is, of course, besides a connection to her parents; outside of learning the trade from them, they had little time for herself and her siblings.  Instead, they were brought up by a strict governess, who ensured that they learned how to behave 'appropriately'.  After all, there was a good chance they could marry into noble houses with the right connections, and thereby have 'real' power to go with their wealth.  

So her life was one of schooling, of balls, of learning the ways of the banker.  It was a life behind courtyard walls, and didn't provide for a lot of life experience.  Oh sure, herself and her siblings managed to have some fun and manage minor mischief as children, but their parents and Ishmara, their governess, burnt into their minds the 'right' way to act.  They were taught to be kindly to all people, but inevitably, some classism embedded itself into Milla's mind.  But when one's life is spent in the company of bankers, nobles, upper-crust merchants and Aes Sedai, what can be expected?

Milandra hadn't put much thought into her future.  Unlike many, she knew that she actually had one. Whether she chose marriage, or following in her parent's footsteps, or both, her parents were very supportive of her choosing to lead the life she felt best suited for.  But the what to do was the question.  She had no qualms with the aforementioned options, and even at the near-womanly age of 15; the world still felt wide-open to her.  So it was a bit of a surprise when an option she hadn't considered reared up - joining the White Tower and becoming an Aes Sedai.

She was attending a ball - whose, it doesn't matter, when the idea started forming in her mind.  Milla had been taught to be especially polite and solicitous of Sisters, as their hefty annual wage needed a home, and not all of them felt like investing it back into the Tower.  While conversing with an Aes Sedai and the host of the evening, the subject of looking for girls that could learn to channel came up.  Larindhra, the Aes Sedai, was explaining that there were many young girls with the ability to learn to channel, and that they would never know or have the chance unless they came to the Tower to be tested, or happened upon an Aes Sedai.  Milla had no idea that it actually could be learned, and the idea dawned in her head - could she herself be taught to channel the One Power?  

Ask and ye shall receive - testing revealed that yes, Milandra Basene could learn to channel the One Power.  She could be an Aes Sedai.

Thanking Larindhra Sedai for her cooperation, Milla went home with her thoughts.  "Be an Aes Sedai," she thought to herself, "Why not?"  She had overly romanticized notions of what it meant to be an Aes Sedai, like most that she knew.  To socialize with kings and queens, to mete justice, to wield so much power, the Power...  it was all a tempting prospect.  A life spent behind walls makes the idea of power and adventures and travel sound like a fun one, and without thinking about what it actually meant to be an Aes Sedai, decided that she would sign up.

Boy, isn't she in for a surprise

Thank you :)

Handle:  Matalina

Character Count: 2 (Alicatia -Gray, Karissa - Green)

Notes: Wish to start as Novice

Name: Kate al'Ker

Born: Arad Doman

Raised: Cairhein

Mother – Matalina aka Cari Namere (Born: Cairhein, Raised: Tar Valon)

Father – Reikan Souvan aka Sam (Born & Raised: Tar Valon)

Sex: female

Age: 16 years old

Hair: Dark Brown

Eyes: Brown

Skin:  Very Pale

Height: 5'2"

Weight: 105lbs

WS: 3

Talent: Reading Auras (pending RP Admin approval)

OP Score:

Description:

Kate is the spitting image of her mother, Matalina, at the age of 16.  Her dark brown hair is cut short.  The hair in the back cut to the nape of her neck an getting longer as it moves forward, to about chin length at the front.  She had a part running from the front right to the back left of her head, the front of her hair falling over the left side of her face.  She looks frail but is not as she has been trained to fight rather well.  After her mother's death, Kate took to wearing all black.  Kate has two distinguishing scars, one on her left leg where a horse trampled her leg, but a dreadlord healed the bones but left the flesh to heal, and another on her right arm where a pitchfork pierced her arm after a fall.  The major damage was healed by the dreadlord, but it was left to scar as well.

History:

Aiden and Kate were born to a Warder and Tower Guard. But the father didn't know until recently that he had two children running around. Their mother had left the tower and only found out after leaving that she was with child. She was in the middle of traveling and ended up in Arad Doman where she had the twins. When they were old enough and the weather was warm they set off to finish their quest.

They settled in Fairhaven Cairhein, on the Rashad Horse Ranch where the twins grew up.

They grew up a bit faster than most kids having to deal with their mother's mental health issues, having to several times in the course of their short lives take care of her and help her relearn her life as her memory escaped her after tragedies or hardships. Both children were taught to use the Flame and Void at a very young age and were starting to learn the basics of using a Quarterstaff. Their mother and father, who lived on the ranch for a short time, both taught them the value of being able to defend themselves.

They had befriended by the Master of the Ranches Grandson, and when they were nine years old they both started noticing that their mother and her friends were different from others, they were always flashing hand signals and were friends with even complete strangers. They eventually confronted Taylor, who was raised as a darkfriend by his parents and grandparents (The Rashad's). He confirmed their suspicions and the twins swore the allegiances to the Great Lord. "Everyone we know and love are your servants and we wish to help you as well."

The twins were aware of the things that happened but they had yet to confront their mother about their decision. It wouldn't be until later that they would do this, the wanted some training first, so their mother couldn't talk them out of it. They sought training in Demus, one of their mother's lovers.  He agreed to train them, but after an incident with the Children of the Light he left the Ranch.  They approached their mother and she continued their training.  Which still mostly consisted of weapons training, but she also taught them the basics of communications between darkfriends.

Several times throughout the course of her young life Kate took ill several times.  There was no known reason and no one could fathom why she was sick, no one was sick before and none got sick after.    (Note:  This was channeling sickness from channeling after an idle moment of twilling dust in a small whirlwind around her "stirring" finger", but none knew this at the time.)

Kate has had a few accidents in her life living on the Ranch, she fell off of a horse and it trappled her left leg.  The horse shattered her leg, but thankfully Nalia, a resident Dreadlord,  was available on the ranch and healed her leg, except for the flesh wounds which her mother insisted be left to heal alone, leaving an interesting scare.  Kate also fell from the hayloft of one of the barns and landed on a pitchfork, piercing through the her right arm.  Again Nalia was able to heal her puncture wounds, but left a scar per her mother's wishes.  Kate knew her mother's distrust and dislike of the One Power and was never angry that she'd left them with scares when they could be clean of flesh.

At the age of 10, Cari passed away.  Actually she committed her own murder after killing many others in Tar Valon.  Kate had tried to stop the events that happened.  She told Yearn of her fears and he followed Cari into the events that would follow to her mother's death.  (1) Kate, Aiden and Taylor stayed on the Ranch for the next four years under the care of Mistress Sara, Taylor's grandmother.  But Sara was old and she got sick four years after their mother's death.  The twins remained with Taylor for another two years before they each went their own way.  Taylor stayed on the Ranch to live out his legacy of horse raising.  Aiden went to the borderlands to seek out training to be a better warrior.  Kate went to the one place she knew she should not - Tar Valon.  She would become an Aes Sedai or train with the Warders which ever would accept her in their ranks.

Before she reached Tar Valon Kate got two tattoos, a heart with a halo on the left hand, and a pair of crossed swords on her left.  Both tattoos are located on the skin between thumb and forefinger.  She was retracing the steps her mother took before coming to the Ranch, only in reverse.  She also stopped to see Miss Gretchen in Arad Doman where she was born.

Basic Information

Handle :Little Miss

Character Count : none

Contact :crystal.lynn.crawford@verizon.net

Character Information

Name: Lyra de la Courcel

Age:17

Nationality:Andor(father) and Cairhien(mother)

Appearance

Hair:Brown, long with curly and hard to maintain ends.

Eyes: warm brown

Skin:Pale/white

Height:5'1"

Voice:Bossy, not made for singing, hates singing, or having to carry a tune

Other:Has a mole on her right cheek bone.

Optional

Special Skills:Lyra is good with, and enjoys working with birds of prey, a trait she picked up from her uncle's Saldaen wife. She loves hawking wears to everything and every one, and is constantly trying to sell something to people they encounter in their travels in between Andor and Saldaea. She has good soliciting skills and a nack for knowing the exact thing a person needs. Was learning to use the whip in self defense and to train hunting dogs from her uncle's wife while the conducted business there.

Knowledge Weakness:Mostly think she knows everything, hoping to discover them through RP

Physical Weakness:Being short can be a problem for Lyra, obviously. Many people don't take her seriously due to her height and was often picked on.

Personality weakness: Gets angry very easily and will often argue every thing and with every one. She is a spitfire and often lets her temper get the better of her and brow beats people in giving her and doing what she wants. She is EXTREMELY curious about everything and any one new. She gets into ALL kind of trouble when letting her curiosity lead her where it will. Her curiosity also leaders her to pester others who know more information on something she is interested in. She was very little sense when it comes to caution.

History:

The beginning of Lyra is fairly simple and sweet. It all started with Lyra's grand father, who was a merchant that sold leather and traveling products from a quaint little booth in Andor. This was a fairly profitable way of life till an argument arose with one of his customers that involved a cat, shoe strings and a belt. He moved to Cairhien to restart his life and begin anew with his wife and twin sons who were 18 at the time and more than willing to "travel" and see the world from some one else's coin pouch. What was needed in Andor was much different than what he found the Cairhien market to want and began to struggle with a steady income. When his sons , Joscelin and Jareth, saw this and the problems that could be fixed they began to come to their father and tell him what needed to change. After a few years they were soon running their own merchant services, which flowed with the changing times and fickleness of the people. During this time, Lyra's uncle Jareth, fell for a visiting Saldaean girl and followed her to her homelands to court her leaving her father to run the business by himself. After long, he was able to comfortably set up his parents in a country house and hire a house keeper to take care of them. Little did he know this house keeper wasn't a meek girl child as he thought his mom would hire. She was a petite fiery woman, who took no nonsense from her employers, and ran the house with an iron fist. Joscelin immediately tried to fire her upon his first visit with his parents, only to be told "No" and was even kicked out to go sleep in the barn for his language. During that first night in the barn he awoke to himself covered in blankets and a pillow under his head. This soon became a pattern over the next several months before Jos caught the house keeper in the act, and asked her why. She merely smiled and explained she thought he was a good person despite his stubbornness. They married 6 months later and moved to Andor after finding a more mellow house keeper. Current day Lyra's parents own a large merchant train that travels in between Andor and Saldaea. Jareth manages all the Saldaean transactions and Lyra's father the Andor side when he isn't traveling with the wagons themselves as he often does. Lyra was born in Andor, and is now 17 years old. She has known a whole life of traveling and almost constant moving back and forth to the roads and towns between Andor and Saldaea. She has been very involved in her parents work and taken being the daughter of the boss over the years like a fish to water, often being called a bratty merchant princess for looking down on the wagon drivers, who take it all in stride and just smile quietly when she goes on the rampage. She loves her Saldaean aunt very much and will often pester her the whole entire time they are there. During the summer rush of her 17th year, when many travelers where traveling the road, they came upon a camp of Aes Sedai in their typical spot and were politely asked if they cared to share. Lyra's curiosity was instantly entranced by the prospect of them channeling and followed them around all evening asking as many questions as she could get in. When they settle down that evening she actually bothers them so much they test her and to both parties surprise's she is able to be taught. The next day it was to Tar Valon instead of Saldaea for the rest of her life after a rushed letter to her aunt and a tearful good bye to her parents.

Basic Information

Handle : Myriam Finnash

Character Count : 1

Contact : myriam.finnash@dragonmount.com

Character Information

Name: Myriam Finnash

Age: just turned 16

Nationality: Andorran, a small town neighboring Caemlyn.

Appearance

Hair: Blond

Eyes: Greenish blue

Skin: fair

Height:  5’6”

Voice: normal girls voice

Other: bit chubby, typical “girl next door”

Optional

Special Skills:

Knowledge Weakness:

Physical Weakness:

Personality weakness:

Personality

A bit naive, but very loyal girl

History

Myriam is the youngest of three daughters from a cloths merchant, she is very loyal to her family and especially her sisters. Her oldest sister Elaine, it was tradition in their family the oldest daughter got named after the Daughter-Heir, though spelled a bit differently so not to offend the royal family, was destined to be married to a wealthier merchants second son, and so to take over the family business. Her middle sister, Joan, was the trouble child, she had told their father flat-out that she would not marry, unless it would be someone of her own choice. So far their father had tolerated the behavior of his favorite child, but there were rumors under the servants that he was about to sign a marriage contract for her. Myriam on the other hand would be quite content to be married to a simple farmer, as she liked to tend to the animals and grow her own fruit and vegetables.

That was one of the reasons why Myriam didn’t mind helping her sister Joan sneak out of the house, so she could go and meet Brad, the mayor’s son. Joan and Brad had been friends since their childhood, and recently fell in love. There was just one small problem, called Susana, who had been Brad’s promised wife since forever. This didn’t stop the happy couple though, and they met up as often as they could. Usually it was in the mayor’s stables, where Myriam would talk to Brock, the 18 year old stable boy. As Joan and Brad were in the back, whispering, kissing and such, Myriam would chat to Brock about the horses, foals and how to tend to them.

But then came the news that Brad and Susana’s wedding would come up soon, the courtier’s daughter had come of age, and she had told her mother she longed to be a wife. Brad had talked ot his father, but to no avail. So the two of them decided to run away and get married in a neighboring village. Joan asked Myriam to help her get out of the house, which of course the girl did. She even went this far to stay over at the stables for the entire night, so that her father could not question her early about Joan’s and Brad’s flight. She spent most of the night crying, until Brock found her. The stable boy tried to comfort her in the only way he knew of. So the night her sister ran away with the mayor’s son, was the night Myriam lost her virginity.

Two days later news arrived that Brad and Joan had gotten married in Caemlyn, and they were not planning to come back. Her father wanted Myriam to come, and try to talk to her sister. He thought that maybe his youngest would talk some sense in to his middle daughter. But on the way to the little house where the young couple had gotten a place to live, they ran in to a group of Aes Sedai who were testing all girls of age. Myriam and her father tried to cross the square, but before she knew what was happening, she ended up in the line of girls to be tested.

To Myriam it seemed like the only thing happening was that she had to stare in to a blue stone for a long time, but the Aes Sedai smiled at her and nodded. “You can learn to channel, child. We will leave for Tar Valon tomorrow. Now say good bye to your father.”

Name: Ishara Tolen

Age: 19

Nationality: Tear

Appearance

Hair: Black

Eyes: Green

Skin: Tanned

Height: 5'2"

Voice: Soft, light

Other:

Optional

Special Skills: Fishing

Knowledge Weakness: None

Physical Weakness: None

Personality weakness: Quick tempered

Personality

Due to her height many quickly disregarded her as capable of very much. Continually being overlooked has caused her to feel that she has to demand attention and her temper quickly flairs up when she feels that she is not being listened to. Very opinionated and under the impression that she is rarely wrong, but overall she is kind hearted and tries to do the right thing. She believes that everyone should have good ethics and cannot stand those who are cruel, break the law or are just generally bad. She abhors Darkfriends, even at her young age. She hates being the butt of any joke and hates being laughed at or mocked or even teased, but she eventually forgives anyone who offended her, assuming it was in good fun or course. Fiercely stubborn she won't abandon anything she has put her mind too easily and would need great convincing to change her mind. This also carries into her studies; she won't stop learning anything for any reason and will only stop once she feels that she has fully grasped the concept. She is fascinated with history and has secretly harboured ambitions of having her name recorded in the annals of history.

History

               Ishara Tolen was born to a Tairen fisher family. Her father is the 3rd in a generational line of fishermen. She was born into a family of 7, her two parents, an older sister, two older brothers and one younger brother. Though her father is a very talented fisher, fierce competition has found their family often living hand to mouth eating a lot of the unsold fish before it has spoiled. This has prompted a very strong disdain of fish and would anything over fish. Due to the financial state of her family in Tear everyone is expected to help out and contribute to the rest of the family in some way. But because of her small size, and having two older brothers, she has rarely every actually joined her father on a fishing expedition. Because of the heavily mudded streets of the poor sector of Tear, and the lack of money in her family she has gone most of her life without shoes, never having had a real need of them. In fact she has grown to find herself feeling almost uncomfortable wearing slippers and goes barefoot, much to the shock and disgruntling of Sisters in the tower.

               Ishara has a fond love of reading and learning facts. She had learned to read at a very young age and loves nothing more that immersing herself in the events of heroes like Jain Farstrider or Artur Hawkwing. Her uncle had left Tear many years ago in what her father had described as 'adventuring', but came back with a fortune years later. Her uncle had offered money to her father but his pride had forbidden the very notion of it. Instead her uncle was always giving her books to read. It didn't matter what book it was, so long as it had words and you could learn something from it, or at least have a good story to tell someone. Her father always disapproved of her reading, thinking that one was far better off keeping their head out of the clouds and work hard for an honest day’s pay. Although she had tremendous respect for her father, they rarely saw eye to eye.

               Ishara was 7 when her mother died. A thief had broken into her home while her father was out fishing. The man was obviously desperate trying his hand at robbing a commoner during the daytime, but that didn't exactly help her case much. Of course, not having much to steal didn't help either. Her mother didn't back down however. Telling him that he was more than welcome to help himself to nothing didn't help his mood at all. In anger he stabbed Ishara's mother and quickly left. Ishara had seen the attack first hand at it had left her scarred and distrusting of men. After the Tairen Defenders had apprehended the thief it was discovered that he was actually a Darkfriend and was executed by hanging. Ishara had attended the display.

               Every since that day, Ishara hated anyone who broke the law. She despised those with a lack of morals, especially Darkfriends. As she grew she developed an intense view of right and wrong and a complete admiration for the works in the White Tower despite Tear's unfounded fear of the Aes'Sedai. She envisioned them as glowing examples of the hand of the light, more than likely influenced by tales straight out of the Age of Legends.

               When she was just turning 19 she had worked up the courage to run away from home and join the White Tower. In the middle of the night, she snuck aboard a river ship headed for Tar Valon. She knew the risks, but she needed to see if she had what it took to join the ranks of the legendary Aes'Sedai. After a few weeks hiding in the cargo hold she finally slipped out and walked up to the gates of Tar Valon. She stared up at the White Tower longing to bring her dream to fruition. She was tested that day and passed. She vowed to become an Aes'Sedai.

A liitle bit confusing this one, but basically sound.

Basic Information

Handle : minisamus

Character Count : 3

Contact : freemantle04@gmail.com

Character Information

Name: Rydia Burgess

Age: 15

Nationality: Bethal, Ghealdan

Appearance

Hair: Dark

Eyes: Dark

Skin: Pale

Height: Short

Voice: Silky

Optional

Special Skills: Tracking and trapping

Knowledge Weakness: Rydia can read her letters and sign her name but

taxing her brain makes her twitchy

Physical Weakness: Can’t swim and hates the rain

Personality weakness: Lack of mental concentration

Personality Very fun loving and likes physical work as part of an

active lifestyle

History

The fire was dead. An hour to first light and her scalp felt numb with

the cold. The ferret next to her slept huddled in a ball. Rydia got

out of bed and with her blanket wrapped around her and started

rebuilding the fire.

Once sufficiently warm, Rydia left the hut, passing one of the rare

aes sedai inspection parades. Pushing through the aes sedai’s stoic

guards was as difficult as trudging through snow. Frosty winds whipped

her hair.

In their midst, with her back toward Rydia, awaited the hooded figure

of the aes sedai, obscured behind a curtain of falling snow. It was

her time to be tested. The snow was so deep at her feet she sunk and

could only pull herself out with maximum effort.

When the grave face turned on her, emerging from the falling snow,

puffs of white breath drifting from within the hood, Rydia was awed;

she turned to ice, paralysed, static, unable to speak or smile. But

the aes sedai smiled, and it flowed through her like a warm breeze.

. . .

But one day ago the entire town was hushed and hiding, waiting for the

end of winter. Roads were closed, communication blocked; the only news

to come through, rumours of two deserters from the Legion of the Wall.

Her father, a trapper, came upon them frozen to death, snuggled in

deer entrails west from the village. They had tried to save

themselves.

The mayor refused to send a party to retrieve them, but Rydia’s father

was not inclined to leave the men where they were. He said it was

incredible men should desert so far from Jehannah, within a day’s

march of food and warm. He requested Rydia’s help to cart the crooked,

pitiful bodies to the cemetery.

Although Rydia was accustomed to shovelling and hard work, she was

ever so pleased to see their village once they were done. She stood by

the graveside (dug for both men) in the icebound cemetery while the

last rites were performed. Rydia found herself unable to move, like

some small animal caught in mid-stride by an angry fox or badger. A

woman was staring at her, like an owl hunting field mice, or wolf

cutting a young calf from the herd. Rydia had not known then the woman

was a witch of Tar Valon.

. . .

And now she was travelling once more, through layers of ice and cold,

heading to the great city, spoken of with wonder and myth, for a

chance to be one of them . . . the women with fired faces unnatural

powers.

http://forums.dragonmount.com/index.php/topic,55575.0.html

Go show your appreciation guys 8)

Age has been altered, you're good to go Kathleen 8)

Basic Information

Handle : Wintrow

Character Count : One

Contact : achipofftheblock@windowslive.com

Character Information

Name: Patience Tilly

Age: 14

Nationality: Domani

Appearance

Hair: Brown

Eyes: Brown

Skin: Olive (the yellow ones, not the red ones or the green ones)

Height: 5’2 and 1/6th long (precision courtesy of Sartorial influence)

Voice: The frou-frou of rough on smooth, like canvas on Satin.

Other:

Optional

Special Skills: Sewing

Knowledge Weakness: Most things not sewing

Physical Weakness: She’s little

Personality weakness: Has not been equipped with adequate confrontational skills and is rather passive.

Personality

Quiet, shy, suspicious, fatalistic, responsible and trustworthy: a giant ball made from rubber bands.

History

Life is not without humour (except when it’s just awful) and the birth of Patience brought, along with placenta and a fair hurl of screaming, a period of black humour for her family.

The Tilly’s were tailors; Patience was the youngest of six sisters. Her mother died from consumption shortly after her birth; it gobbled her right up is how Patience remembered it and you can imagine how this helped in her development of healthy, platonic relationships.

It just didn’t.

The Tilly’s specialised in men’s clothing, after all, whipped cream has more substance than your average Domani gown, especially if you add sugar, and while women would pay idiotic prices to achieve the same effect as running naked through a spider web, men’s attire was far harder to come by in good quality and required more skill. Of course, I would be biased, wouldn’t I?

Patience’s first memories of her father were of a frightening and bear-like creature: loud, hairy, a little concerning, but in the short years of her life he too succumbed to consumption in the form of tragedy and personal demons, eroding him like a beach cliff only much, much faster.

Her eldest sister, as her mother before her, died in childbirth; that made five. Another of her sisters was abducted from market and never found again—four. These losses adversely affected the family, as well as its source of economy. They were each skilled tailors, but . . . many hands make light work unless you’ve blown a fuse.

Unsurprisingly the three tragedies up until now had been punctuated by modest demotions in lifestyle and social standing; houses became smaller and new toys rarer. And if that weren’t bad enough Mr. Tilly was becoming less and less inclined to allow his daughters outside.

Naturally, when you are made of copper lightning is bound to strike twice, and the Tilly’s certainly had a lot of mettle between them. A disease spread through their village like birds migrating, quickly and with unerring accuracy. Two of Patience’s sisters died outright, but she and her remaining sister survived . . . almost.

Patience suffered from disfigurement, the posthumous evidence of a dead disease. There would be no diaphanous gowns for this little Domani; her abdomen and back were heavily damaged, and her lungs scarred, resulting in an overhaul in personality and speech.

Her final sister was not killed by the disease, as stated, but it did dig her grave, make all the funeral arrangements, hand her a fancy bouquet and then very pointedly suggest she fall down and die. This was a request her sister granted and that was that.

The Tilly’s with their manpower of two, scaled down to a cozy, two-storey cottage, just enough room to earn a modest income for their modest needs. Patience’s body had been damaged but the mind of her father had been harmed more; he was a paranoid tyrant, never letting her alone or giving her peace, but she understood and tried her best.

And now we finally get as close to present as we’re going to: the day the aes sedai came to town. It would be remiss not to add the level of respect and authority they wielded, but for the common folk this had a lot to do with the rumours of their stealing children. What more can I say? Patience’s father in his deranged state didn’t require much pushing, so it was off to her room upstairs with her, for as many days as it took the witch to leave.

But Patience did not intend to miss this exciting procession, and when the aes sedai rode past her house, she arranged to be draped out the window. Due to bad luck and a little clumsiness, however, she ended up falling out the window and dangling from the sill, a bright little cloud beneath a dish-water sky. Anyone directly beneath her could already see her undergarments, no need to flail her legs and give a better view. This was the first real Domani thing she’d ever done! She felt (in her vast wisdom) holding very still and not making a sound would be the best course of action; she would wait for the aes sedai to pass.

Her plan failed.

Her little fingers slipped and she tumbled to the dirty right in front of the aes sedai’s horse. It wasn’t very painful, the cottage wasn’t high, but it was eloquently embarrassing. There is no better way to get the attention of an aes sedai than falling out of the sky, unless, for instance, you are on fire and speaking in tongues while hurling laser beams at windows.

Evidently, aes sedai do steal children, but with a great deal of diplomacy and their gravity has its own moon.

And the rest, as they say, is history . . . or in this case future.

Bugger, missed that

Character info:

Name: Kathleen Vandiar

Age: 18

Nationality: I don't know

Appearance:

Hair: Long Brown

Eyes: Light blue

Skin: Caucasian

Height: Average

Voice: Normal?

She looked up the White Tower, almost in disbelief. She looked away and looked back again just to make sure it was really there. She had grown up in a small town so far from the Tar Valon that the city itself was almost a fairy tale in her head. She had grown up in a small family, she was the only girl. Her father was a blacksmith and spent most of his days away from home. Her two older brothers went to learn from her father when they were old enough and she stayed home with her mother.

From the time she was a small child her mother would tell her stories of such splendour she couldn't help but think they were tales. Wonderful tales of Tinkers and glee men and travelling shows before bed would always give her such vibrant dreams. And when she was being naughty or getting into things she shouldn't her mother would tell her tales of trollocks and darkfriends. Her favourite stories were always of the majestic Aes Sedai who where so graceful and upstanding.

It had taken her years to realize that her mother never spoke of them in the presence of her brothers or father. The only reason she did notice it was because on afternoon two years before, her mother had accidentally slipped the word "warder" into a sentence and for the first time in her life Kathleen saw her father fly into a out rage that didn't end until well into the evening. She had ran out of the room at the sound of his raised voice and she never did find out what he had been so upset about.

When she looked up at the tower in front of her Kathleen fought back a tear as she thought about her journey and how it started two years before. Her mother had fallen sick two and a half years ago and though she was looked at by the best in the town, no one knew what caused the sickness. It started with complaints of head aches and she was tired more often, but as the weeks past she grew more and more weary and couldn't keep food down, she took to bed and had a nursemaid come into the house. Kathleen took on the extra work taking care of the house and she became an assistant to the nursemaid learning bits and pieces of how to ease her mother's pain.

One day when her mother woke, she called for Kathleen and sent the nursemaid out of the room. She was barely audible at first Kathleen thought her mother was telling more tales. She had told Kathleen that the tales she told her were not tales at all. That all the things she spoke were real. Kathleen wet a cloth and set in on her mother's forehead. Her mother told her of a small wooden box in the back of a shelf.

When Kathleen took it out it was covered in dust. Her mother took a key off a chain around her neck and Kathleen opened the box. Inside she saw a folded piece of paper and a ring that she recognized from the stories her mother told of the Aes Sedia. She looked at it in amazement. Her mother told her that it had been her grandmother's. That for generations the women in her family had been going to the Tower. Some were tested and didn't make it in; they weren't strong enough. However, some had been raised. She told Kathleen that she had always dreamed of going to the White Tower to be tested herself, but she chosen a life with her husband and children instead. She said that the ring had been her mother's and that when she died she took it, not sure what to do with it she put it in the box. She wanted to return it to the Tower, but Kathleen's father wouldn't let her go. She said the paper was a map and asked her to return the ring to the tower where it belonged. Her mother fell silent and later that day she died.

Kathleen realized that she was crying and quickly wiped her face with her hand. "Great," she thought, "here I am standing outside the most prestigous place in the world, blubbering like an infant! How will they take me seriously with my face all streaked with tears? I didn't walk away from my family and come all this way to get laughed at at the door. Pull yourself together and walk in there like you belong!" She took a small broken mirror out of the sack she had on her back and fixed her hair and did what she could to make the now rags of what had been her best dress look presentable. She took a deep breath and entered the door of the White Towe

Thanks for that Myst 8)