The sudden switch in emotions did not surprise Owen as much as it did Rhya, but only because Owen had seen this sort of reaction many times before. In the years before the battle of Emonds Field and the establishment of the Citadel, a Ranger had accompanied many of the Trackers when they went out to find Wanderers. Owen had taken part in his fair share of those journeys so Kai’s response was nothing new to him.

    So he did the best thing he could, he ignored the outburst and continued as if nothing had happened. Sipping his tea Owen let Kia vent her anger and confusion. Although what she said was very important to her, it was nothing Owen had not heard before.

    When Kai realised that she was not going to get the response she wanted she eventually returned to her seat and grumpily picked up her mug. Her grip was so tight that Owen could see her knuckles turn white.

    “I know a lot of things about many a subjects. I can shoe a horse; i can sharpen a sword blade. I can follow a trail and provide food for myself and those travelling with me. I also know what Wanderers go through when they go through the Howling. Please do not forget that all of us suffer when we go through the Howling, and it may seem now that you are having the worst experiences anyone can have. However if you can only understand that you are not alone in this, that would help you more than you may realise.”

    Owen sipped his drink and glanced across at Rhya. She was awfully quiet. However her emotions were anything but quiet, the overriding one was of anger and this surprised Owen quite a bit. He decided to file that piece of information away for later. For now they had a Wanderer to save, and this one was not going to be as easy as others they had helped.

    “It might be a good idea to introduce ourselves properly. I know Rhya mentioned our names before, but i did not catch yours. So i am Owen, known to the Wolves as White Fang. My companion here is Rhya, who is known to the Wolves as Autumn Mist. My Wolf Companion is Icewind on a Cold Dark Night, or Ice for short. Rhya’s Wolf is called Shadow and is Ice’s brother, how should we call you?”

Owen

The WhiteWolf

Ranger Leader

Basic Information

Handle :  Jaedlyn

Character Count : 1 (this would be the first)

Contact : nanyque(at)gmail.com

Character Information

Name:  Jaedlyn Rancoura      

Age:  15

Nationality:  Domani

Appearance

Hair:  Long (middle of her back), straight black hair

Eyes:  Typically a sky blue, they tend to change to a green under great emotional stress.

Skin:  Light bronze tone

Height:  5’7”

Voice:  Usually very quiet, with the intent that if you want to hear what she’s saying, you need to pay close attention. There’s an almost sultry quality to it.

Other:  Jaedlyn’s appearance is nondescript at first.  If you chance a second look, she is very pretty. Her eyes are almost too big for her face, but somehow they manage to suit her.  She has full lips,  and high cheek bones.  

Optional

Special Skills:  She is very good at learning what motivates and drives people.

Knowledge Weakness:  While she has managed to learn a great many things about people her 15 years, she has never had much academic teaching.  She can read and write, though neither with much skill.

Physical Weakness:  Jaedlyn is not particularly strong, but can defend herself if the need arises.  Her quiet demeanor might suggest frailty but that is definitely not the case.

Personality weakness:  She has grown to see people as tools, useful tools, but still just tools.  As a result, she is not the type to have many friends, and those she “befriends” she is usually just trying to find a use for.

Personality

Jaedlyn is a very social creature, but not one to make friends.  She is determined to learn every nuance of every person, so as to use them to her best interest.   She is very friendly, and has never, to her knowledge, made an enemy.  She has a very good control on her emotions, as every emotion has its use in dealing with people.

History

Jaedlyn is the daughter of a Domani merchant.   Her mother raised her alone; her father had disappeared when Jaedlyn was still a babe.  Being Domani, Jaedlyn learned at an early age just how much power one person can have over another.  Her mother’s Merchant Guards were all in love with her, and, as far as Jaedlyn knew, she’d never even touched more than their hands. The right words or look can dissolve any reservations another may have about you.  The wrong words or glance can completely alienate someone as well.  While her mother practiced her arts on men, Jaedlyn was determined to manipulate the arts she was being taught to hold power over anyone she met, man or woman.

When Jaedlyn was 9 years old, her mother decided it was time to travel.  “Jaedlyn, dear, it is time you learned of the world.  If you are to become a merchant like me one day, you will fair far better if you know the details of your buyer’s culture. There is no better way to accomplish this then to see it for yourself.”  For the next few years, she and her mother travelled all over the world.  Her mother brought some Sea Folk dishes to earn a little cash, relying on her Domani skills to house them when that revenue was dry.

This gave Jaedlyn an amazing opportunity to watch other cultures, how they reacted to her mother’s seductress ways.  She learned that while almost any man from any country fell prey to her mother, women were another story.   In many lands, the women looked upon them both with distaste at the first glance.  Soon she learned that women viewed their dress and demeanor as a threat to their relationships, and most became almost hostile.  Jaedlyn quickly began to adopt a slightly more conservative appearance.  While she kept the traditional style of the Domani clothes, her dresses were just a little less clingy, just a little less see-through.   Her mother disapproved of the change, but wanted to give Jaedlyn anything she desired, so she allowed it, thinking it was just a phase that would pass once they could settle down again in Arad Doman.

Jaedlyn was no stranger to the stories of the Aes Sedai and their White Tower.   While most people were angered by their meddling and use of people as tools, Jaedlyn began to admire them from their stories. Eventually,  Jaedlyn and her mother’s travels led them to Whitebridge.   Storms had rolled in just as they were planning to leave, so they stayed in Whitebridge longer than planned.  Jaed took this opportunity to test her skills on some of the children her age.  It wasn’t long before she had the boys catering to her and the girls doing the same.  For the first time in her life, she felt like more than a merchant’s daughter.  She felt almost regal.  It was then that a Green sister took notice of her and offered to test her.  With Jaedlyn’s view of the White Tower, it was no surprise when she readily accepted the offer.  Upon discovery of her potential in the One Power, Jaedlyn and the Green went to her mother to discuss putting her name in the fabled Novice Book.

Her mother was unhappy.  Jaedlyn was all she had left of her family, but all she had ever wanted was for Jaedlyn to be happy. She left the decision to her daughter, who promptly agreed to join the ranks of Novice.  With a farewell to her mother, she was on her way to the White Tower.

    Later that night, long after Liitha had gone to sleep, Cara quietly left their bed and made her way to the door. Silently she opened the door, glancing back at their bed, Cara made sure she had not disturbed Liitha. Leaving the room, Cara made her way down the corridor and turned right before descending the stairs. A small light bobbed above Cara’s head allowing her to make her way across to a large door. Grasping the handle, Cara opened the door and entered the room.

    Hours later Cara was still hard at work but was finally seeing some evidence that she had solved the problem that had lead to the problems the last time she had tried to make something to help Liitha, using the One Power.  The last time she had tried this, it had ended up with Cara being rendered unconscious, but this time Cara was certain that she could get it correct.

    Just as the first rays of the weak morning sun appeared through the window to her right, Cara knew she had succeeded. She was not totally convinced she had the methodology completely correct, but she was certain the bracelets would do what they were intended to do without any of the side effects that happened last time.

    Rising from the chair, Cara felt like she had been there for a month, not just one night. Just then two things happened at the same time: the door opened and a very annoyed Liitha stood there, face set in an expression of resigned annoyance. The second thing that happened was that Cara was taken by surprise at the huge yawn that burst forth at the same time as Liitha opened the door. With a guilty grin on her face, Cara tried to cover up the yawn with her hand. Deciding that the best way to avoid another tongue lashing about not getting her sleep, Cara picked the bracelets up from the table and held them out to Liitha. “This time there will be no problems with these Liitha, i have solved the problems that plagued us last time. This time i know they will work exactly as they are intended.” Suddenly a wave of vertigo clouded Cara’s mind and she had to reach out to the table top to steady herself.

    Just as quickly Liitha was by her side holding Cara up and easing her over to the nearest chair. Sensing Liitha’s worry and concern for her Cara smiled up at Liitha, “i am fine my love, just a little bit fatigued after working all night.” Not at all convinced that Cara was fine, but knowing it would do no good to press the issue, Liitha decided that what Cara needed for now was a hot drink and some food.

Cara Ramsey.

Aes Sedai of the Brown Ajah

Bonded to Liitha.

   They were six days out from the Stedding and the pace Owen had set had been punishing, 18 hours a day spent in the saddle or walking so the horses could rest. Trot for an hour, walk for an hour, trot for another hour, with only a brief break at midday to cram some food down their throats and then they were off again. It was not until long after nightfall that Owen would allow them to make camp and cook their only hot meal of the day. Their shelters were the typical ones the Rangers employed whenever they wanted to move fast and light.  A simple water proof sheet with eyelets around the edge was attached to a rock wall or tree and then pegged to the ground. These shelters could be easily joined together to make a large shelter, but only Rhya and Owen did that, all the other Rangers stayed in their one man shelters.

   The next morning they were up and on their way an hour before the sun would rise and if they timed it right they would be at the head of the pass just in time to see the sunrise. Although the mission was urgent Owen thought they could spare a moment to appreciate such natural beauty.

   As the trail wound its way higher and higher, it became much more sinuous, following the contours of the mountain to find the easiest route.  This high up there was snow on the ground all year round, but thankfully there had been no adverse weather to hinder their journey. However there were still signs of snowfall all around them and despite the bright sunlight their breath frosted in the morning air.

   Just as they crested the rise, having led their horses for the last mile or so, the sun rose behind them and slowly the land in front of them came into view, illuminated by the suns early morning rays. Owen had been leading them steadily west, wanting to cross over the Mountains of Mist from east to west, rather than try to travel along the spine of the mountains. It was also well known among the Rangers that the western slopes of the Mountains of Mist were easier to traverse, even on horseback, not something that could be said for the Eastern slopes.

   Standing there, watching the sun rise and reveal the land below, Owen’s mind drifted back to the start of their break neck journey and Rhya’s temper tantrum. He could find no other way to describe the way she had reacted to his trying to keep her safe if trouble occurred. Mind you Owen should have known better seeing as both Ehlana and Iris had been exactly the same way. Two days into the journey Owen had taken Rhya to one side and apologised to her for what he had said back at the Stedding. It was not what he had wanted to do, he still felt she should not have accompanied them, but it was the right thing to allow her to accompany them. At least this way he got to see her every day, although bundled up as she was there was not much of her to see.

   “Come on Rhya time we were heading down the other side. Once we have descended for a few hours the going should get easier and we can make better time.” Seeing the tiredness etched on Rhya’s face, and knowing he was almost as tired as Rhya looked, Owen decided to call an early halt to their journey. “Burrich, find us a good place to spend the night. I would say we have earned an early halt to day so i suggest you start looking for some where suitable around midday. Take one of the Rangers with you and scout ahead.”

Owen

The WhiteWolf

Ranger Leader

OOC ASfaloth, when you post maybe you should move this over to the West or North board?

    Try having a full stomach and a load of ale and then you will not so blithely say that the world looks better on a full stomach.

    Owen had to bite his lip to not say that out loud. Humour could often take the edge off of a situation, but in this case Owen thought it wiser to say nothing about vast amounts of alcohol and full stomachs. Instead he focused his senses on the Wanderer in front of him. He could easily sense the anguish that poured from her. But it was more than that, and the more Owen concentrated the more concerned he grew at the depth of feelings he could sense.

    “It is always difficult for those of us who are blessed by the change we undergo. It is often a time of confusion, of fear. A time when we can feel totally isolated from everyone and everything around us.” Owen was speaking softly, almost as if he was talking to himself, but he knew the Wanderer could hear him and although she tried to hide it, he also knew she was listening.  “And then, just when we think we can deal with the changes we start seeing Wolves, when we are awake and when we are asleep. And they talk to us, although talk is not really what they do. They send us pictures is the best way to describe how they communicate with us.” Again Owen stopped talking and this time started sipping at his tea. Just when it seemed he would not say anything else, Owen started talking again, keeping his voice low forcing Kai to lean closer so she could hear what he was saying. This was exactly what Owen hoped for, to try to make a small penetration into the wall she had thrown up around herself.

    “I know you are going to find this hard to believe, but you are not alone in this. There are more people like you than you could imagine. We have our own home where we are safe from those who would harm us or turn us over to those who would harm us. You can come and live there and no one will cause you any harm. We have our own healers, stables, blacksmith and an Inn that you just have to see to believe. It looks like it was carved from a living tree so intricate is the work. “

    Owen continued to describe the Stedding and the large forest that surrounded it. He also made mention of the Citadel and the Council there. “It may surprise you, it certainly does me, but we have good relations with the occupants of the Citadel and they help to protect the integrity of the Stedding and those of us who live there.”

    Owen decided he had given Kai enough to think about and hopefully she would feel intrigued enough to forget her own troubles, for now, and start asking questions. Glancing over to Rhya Owen winked and smiled, hoping she would understand what he was doing.

Owen

The WhiteWolf

Ranger Leader

    Sniffing, with disdain, Owen ignored Rhya’s words and instead continued to scan the land around them. Although this area was reputed to be sparsely inhabited, that did not mean they were safe, far from it. Owen knew from experience that Trollocs and other enemies could appear almost from thin air.

    Without conscious thought, Owen’s right hand dropped to his side and started to ruffle the fur of the large white female wolf that sat next to him. He remained silent for some time; his eyes continually search the hillsides. Finally Owen broke the silence. “This is not the time for frivolous thoughts or comments Rhya, we are in a desolate land, far from help. “

    Rhya’s mouth worked, but no words came out so shocked was she at Owen’s words. Just as she was about to regain control and tell him what he could do with his frivolous attitude, Owen turned to her and winked, a smile slowly spreading across his face. Leaning in, Owen put his nose next to hers and whispered: “got you.”

    Rhya’s response was totally lost as Owen’s lips covered hers and soon her objections had switched to quite moans. When they parted they were both slightly breathless, but it was Owen who recovered first. “If you are not confident enough to handle a first contact Rhya then of course i will accompany you. However i thought you competent enough that i did not want o cramp your style or steal your glory.”

    Rhya just stood there, her mouth silently forming an “O”

    “Well come on Rhya, don’t just stand there, we have a long way to go and not much daylight left.” Owen climbed into the saddle on his horse and started down the trail, whistling to himself, and trying to keep the smile from his face as he could feel the emotions pouring from Rhya. Eventually he could no longer contain his amusement and burst out laughing.

Owen

The White Wolf

Ranger Leader

Gotta agree with Claire on this one. I feel these "experimental" talents are better left to the discreation of the ppl writing for them.

Ok, whno is going to be the point of contact?

That person should be the one to start our side.

Do you want to do it bro?

Not sure it would be a good idea for Owen to come on this one, not after the last time we, as in the Wolfkin, had dealings with AS.*lol* We had an AS and her Warder show up in the depths of a snowstorm and they baled on us and did not reply to the rp. So Owen's viewpoint on AS is not that good.....but hey it all adds to the spice, just let me know where and when please :)

Count me in bro 8)

Welcome back Darth,it is good to have a returnee show up 8)

Excellent news Tay, now get yer ass in gear and get raised to AS ;)

Some of us can't wait much longer ;D

Basic Information

Handle : Kelitor

Character Count : 0

Contact : kelitorvarashan@gmail.com

Character Information

Name: Ykoria Eranyame

Age: 15

Nationality: Mayener

Appearance

Hair: black

Eyes: Blue

Skin: Tan

Height: short, about 5' 3"

Voice: Quiet, thoughtful, shy. Sounds pleasant when she chooses to use it.

Other: hair is fairly long, almost reaching the middle of her back. Small and slender.

Optional

Special Skills: Her parents both work in the First's library, therefore she has learned reading and writing and is skilled at both. When young, her mother was a singer, and has given her a rudimentary training in singing.

Knowledge Weakness: None in particular.

Physical Weakness: Physically petite. Unusually sensitive to heat and becomes agitated in overly warm environments.

Personality weakness: Not particularly social. Distant. Quiet. Dislikes showing off what she knows and can do, and would rather be left to herself and pursue her own goals rather then socialize with peers for the most part. She has a morbid fear of failure and not measuring up to the norms.

Personality

Ykoria is a quiet, reserved and dignified. She has little patience for what she perceives as foolishness. She enjoys learning and reading on a wide variety of topics which may not particularly relate to each other. She also enjoys singing, but typically will never do so if she believes that anyone is within earshot. She has a few, close friends instead of a large group. She would prefer not to endure the pressures of an intense social life. She dislikes being forced to show her skills and knowledge in public, and enduring the pressure that comes with it. She is however, quite kind and caring, although she rarely shows it openly and so others may see her as somewhat cold. She does, however, have a quirky sense of humor that may break through at unusual times, reducing her to peals of laughter when her mind makes an unusual connection.

History

(Should include any major events in the character's life prior to joining the Division,

as well as any significant RPs since)

Ykoria Eranyame is the 15 year old daughter of two Mayeners, living in the City. Her father is a librarian and a scribe for the First, and her mother who was a formally trained singer of no particular repute before meeting her father, at which point she took a job as an occasional copyist in the Library with her new husband. Ykoria is the eldest of three children, having two younger brothers within a few years of her. She took to books and learning quite naturally, as both of her parents worked in a Library, and she and her siblings would often be taken there. She and the rest of her siblings received an informal, and perhaps somewhat uneven but often quite advanced, education as a result of their parent's place of work. Ykoria's mother also tried to pass on her education as a singer, and both found the experience quite rewarding, and Ykoria developed some skill as a soprano and can sing rather well. She loathes to be heard, however, and never sings if she thinks anyone can hear. Her life is fairly nondescript, and the most major event, has been her parent's inclusion in a delegation of librarians and scribes that the First formed and is sending to Tar Valon in an attempt to either procure, or make copies of certain books that she has learned are held by the White Tower. Upon the request of her father, the chamberlain of the First, who is responsible for orchestrating the trip, indulgently agreed that his children could accompany him and his wife to Tar Valon, and Ykoria Eranyame is now has the opportunity of a lifetime to see Tar Valon, the greatest city in the world, and the White Tower, the seat of the Aes Sedai.

Handle: Visar Falmaien

Character Count for White Tower Division: 1

Contact: jscott68(AT)juno(DOT)com

Name: Rytali Basim, “Ryta” (pr. “’Ree-tall-ee ba-‘Seem”)

Age: 14 (she thinks she is fifteen, 6 month gap between actual age and estimated age)

Nationality: Illianer

Appearance: Rytali is a somewhat short girl (appr. 5’2”) with an average figure featuring plenty of curves (appr. 115 lbs).  She has long, dark-brown hair, but it is usually kept tied in a pony-tail underneath a plain wide-brimmed hat or scarf.  Her eyes are hazel colored, which in certain light appears green.  Her face is handsome but to her it is plain and otherwise unremarkable, tan like the rest of her skin.  While Rytali admires jewelry and embroidery, she cannot afford to wear anything better than plain dresses or slippers.  She has a low, rich, melodious voice when speaking normally, but her voice raises significantly higher in pitch and is more nasal when she is laughing or yelling.

Personality:  Rytali is used to being a servant, and rarely raises her eyes or her voice when not called for.  She is usually very shy to people she does not know, always self-conscious about herself.  However, in the presence of more comfortable settings and close friends, she can be quite sociable, and likes to be funny and mischievous when she thinks she can get away with it.  She is an excellent listener, but tends to trip over her words if she is nervous.  Rytali possesses fairly sharp eyesight, able to see tiny things in front of her just as well as see things clearly from far away.  Rytali can read and write rather well for one of her age and station.  She has a phobia of bees and wasps.

History:  Rytali knows very little of her family, as she was orphaned from too early an age to remember clearly.  She knew only her first name, Rytali, and never learned her biological parents’ name.  She remembers vague images and voices of a motherly figure, but whether that woman died or abandoned her she doesn’t know.  For all intents and purposes her life began in the streets of the Perfumed Quarter of Illian.  She remembers attaching herself to other children early on, seeking groups of stronger and older children for protection.  Since the rules of the street demanded being older, she tried to act older than she was; this has indirectly led to Ryta believing she’s a full six months older than she actually is.  It was a dangerous life as a street rat, begging and sometimes stealing to get by.  While she had some fun times too, she remembers all too well how she had nearly lost her life.  

When Ryta was weight, she and three others in her child gang were trying to sneak into a lord’s house.  However, the building was guarded by a most formidable foe.  While climbing the vines, Ryta and her friends disturbed an enormous nest of bees.  The angry insects swarmed out almost as one, and she and the others had run for their lives.  She made it to a canal safely with two others, covered in painful stings, but one of them, her friend Jay, was left behind.  He was allergic to bees, and he died before they got back to him.  From this point on, Ryta has always been terrified of bees and wasps, afraid that she too will be stung to death.  Four days after this traumatic event her life changed in another way.  

A man named Bashur Basim and his wife Baila took her in from the streets, promising her that as long as she did what she was told, her needs would be met.  Her new adopted family worked in the Hall of the Council for one of the Nine.  Rytali’s ‘mother’ was one of the maidservants tasked with keeping the place clean, while her father worked as a scribe, dictating some of the lord’s daily meetings and helping illiterate commoners write their petitions.  Ryta took well to her new family, though her mother tended to be stricter, insisting that she learn how to clean the floors and dust the walls and ceilings until they were virtually spotless.  She’d much rather indulge herself in the storybooks her father read to her, where most men and women were noble in spirit and traveled the world without chains binding them.  In her free time, her new father taught her much about reading and writing, and she considered following in his footsteps and becoming a scribe.  However, another hunger gnawed at her growing up.  She wanted that utopian freedom, to be able to go anywhere and do anything she wanted.  But as she grew into a young woman, she began to lose faith in her childish dreams.  She was still just a child, just a servant working menial tasks for those who really had control: The lords and the king and the council of merchants.  While they generally left her alone, too busy fighting themselves for control of Illian to make the common people’s lives too miserable, which she was thankful for, they never helped her get out of her situation either.

A teenager now, Ryta itched for new surroundings, the all-too familiar Hall boring, most of its secrets already discovered.  An opportunity came in the form of a strange woman.  She appeared almost out of the blue, assigning herself as one of the lord’s advisors.  She was beautiful, tall and slim, and walked with a grace that Ryta had never seen before, even in Illianer ladies who frequented the Hall.  The servants buzzed at the lady’s arrival, but no one seemed to agree on knowing exactly who she was or what her real business was with the lord.  Some said she was just a foreign noblewoman who happened to be a little too smart for her own good.  Others said she was a sorceress, a witch from Tar Valon who was seducing the lords and taking control of the Council for her own means.  The truth was somewhere in between: she was an Aes Sedai of the Gray Ajah, assigned to the Council of Nine to try to keep Illian at peace within its turbulent factions.

But when Rytali finally encountered this Aes Sedai up close, it was an event that would change her life forever.  The woman had looked at her suddenly, as if suddenly realizing that a servant was there, and was an actual person.  Then the questions had come.  The woman spoke gently and quietly, but still there was a certain edge to them that Ryta knew she could not disobey.  The woman wanted to speak with her parents, and so Ryta led her to them, not knowing what this was about.  After meeting with them, the woman with the ageless face turned on Ryta.  She could learn how to channel the Source, the woman explained, and would travel to Tar Valon to study at the Tower.  Her eyes bulging wide at this announcement, Rytali barely believed her.  But her adopted parents apparently did, and did nothing to try to stop the Aes Sedai from getting her way.  While a little thrilled at the possibility of being able to travel the world, Rytali is mostly terrified at the prospect of training with the Aes Sedai.  She knew she would never have an easy life, yet how much harder it seemed that she was leaving the only family she knew, and she would most likely never see her friends in the Hall ever again.

While scared half out of her wits, Rytali resolved that she should try to learn this new Power the Aes Sedai said she had.  She would make new friends and family somehow, and maybe some day she would be able to return, and then travel the world as she wished.  But for now, she would obey the Aes Sedai, make the longest journey away from home of her life to this legendary White Tower, and see what the Wheel had willed for her.

Basic Information

Handle : DarthRand

Character Count : 1 (this one)

Contact : csharp9[at]tigers[dot]lsu[dot]edu

Character Information

Name: Dyrum Alede

Age: 14

Nationality: Cairhienin

Appearance

Hair: Straight and dark brown, almost black, often kept tied into a ponytail that stops just between her shoulder blades

Eyes: Brown with long eyelashes

Skin: Pale and unblemished

Height: 5’0”

Voice: Sharp and curt, used to being obeyed, alto in range.

Other: Dyrum is often seen with a slight smile on her face and a mischievous light in her eyes.

Optional

Special Skills: Dyrum loves music, and has a fair affinity with the flute

Knowledge Weakness: Dyrum’s knowledge of the world is sadly limited to her family’s manor, she knows next to nothing of the suffering of the poorer common folk throughout the world.

Physical Weakness:

Personality weakness: Having grown up a noble’s child, and an only child to boot, Dyrum is highly spoiled, and not above putting on a tantrum when she doesn’t get her way, making her feared among her father’s servants and retainers.

Personality: Dyrum is self-assured almost to the point of being arrogant, and headstrong to boot. Normally a very happy girl, she is not easily depressed or suppressed in her emotions. She sees her noble birth as a license to do as she pleases, and has cultivated a reputation as ‘that spoiled brat’ among her father’s servants. She was never called that to her face of course, as she also had quite the temper, and was not above unleashing it in the form of a tantrum or two, usually followed by running straight to her father with her problem.

History: Dyrum was born as the only child to Daerin and Maigan Alede, of the minor noble house Alede in Cairhien. As the only child, Dyrum was doted upon endlessly, quickly growing accustomed to having her way whenever she asked, and when asking failed, a display of her infamous temper often did the trick. Far from the Topless Towers of Cairhien and the more intricate plots in the Great Game, Dyrum lived an otherwise simple life. That is not to say she never learned to play the Game, for she was Cairhienin after all, she simply never got to see it put to practice, either by herself or others, very often.

While mostly secluded in her father’s manor, she did make the occasional trip to the nearby village with her mother in order to “ensure the peasants know whom it is they serve,” as her mother put it. It was on one such trip that Dyrum  and the Lady Alede visited the local inn where Dyrum first heard the music of a gleeman’s flute. Intrigued, the child demanded that her mother purchase a flute and hire a bard to tutor her. Although indignant at first with the fear that her only daughter would up and leave to be a travelling entertainer, the Lady Alede eventually consented, with only a little help from Dyrum’s temper, and purchased a fine flute crafted from fine mahogany and gilded with gold filigree, as well as a young man by the name of Doran Velmoran, a man aspiring to be a court bard in Cairhien eventually, to tutor the young Alede.

Dyrum learned quickly, and soon she spent so much time practicing with the instrument that she forgot to make demands of the serving staff, giving them a much-needed break from the spoiled child’s temperaments. Her father, however, disapproved of the notion, and decided the time had come to teach his daughter what it meant to be a noble. He set about planning for a trip to the City, where Dyrum could see how true Lords and Ladies lived: playing the Game and not the flute. Dyrum was indignant, but even her infamous tantrums would not sway her father on the matter, though she did manage to pack her flute with her clothing, and within the month they were off.

Upon arrival to the city, Lord Alede received several invitations to several different balls within the city, one from the king himself. While he debated on how best to answer them, Dyrum and her mother roamed the city, the young girl, by now fourteen years of age, was enthralled at the grandness of the city, though her mother was careful to keep them far away from the poorer districts. When they returned, Daerin had decided on attending a ball hosted by another Lord in similar status to themselves, giving his wife and daughter the rest of the afternoon to prepare and plan.

With young Dyrum in tow, Daerin and Maigan played the Game skillfully, though the young girl was entranced by a woman who held herself aloof from the rest of the nobles. Graceful and serene this woman was, though Dyrum could honestly put no age to the woman. As well, unlike any other Lord in the room, the man trailing this woman stalked as though he expected any one of the noblemen to draw a sword and attack, with a sort of fluid grace Dyrum had never seen. With the brazenness of youth, she approached the couple, asking them bluntly who they were. The woman chuckled and introduced herself simply as Lady Covan, the man was Lord Dasen, both of Andor. That was when Dyrum had the tables turned on her, as Lady Covan began asking a series of questions. How old was she, where was she from, did she have any siblings. The strangest request came when the Lady Covan produced a small blue stone, and asked Dyrum to concentrate and stare into it. Although Dyrum was dazed and a bit confused at how on earth any of that mattered, she answered truthfully and did as she was told, her dark brown eyes meeting the seemingly endless confines of that small stone. It felt as though all the world were in that stone, and as Dyrum stared, she felt a strange kind of warmth, an ecstasy beyond any she had ever felt.

Abruptly her trance was broken, and Lady Covan insisted on speaking to Dyrum’s parents. The young girl, slightly confused but still in awe at that feeling of warmth nodded and went straight to where her parents stood in the ballroom. Dyrum was nervous, for as she brought the couple closer to her parents, her father muttered a curse and her mother paled. Here it was that Lady Covan introduced herself as Meraila Covan Aes Sedai, and told the Alede parents that their daughter had the potential to become Aes Sedai as well. Her father spluttered until her mother elbowed him in the side with less-than-perfect subtlety, saying that they would be honored. Lady Covan then asked Dyrum what the girl thought of this matter. Dyrum wasn’t quite sure what to think, she’d been taught that Aes Sedai were both admirable players of the game and foul witches, but she longed to get away from her father’s manor, and earnestly agreed, so long as she could take her flute. Lady Covan smiled and said that would be fine. The next day, Dyrum was packed and her parents left her with the Aes Sedai and her Warder at the Tar Valon gate of Cairhein, likely to never see their daughter again.

ASIC INFORAMTION

Handle: Serey

Character Count: 1

Contact: reidvalerie[at]yahoo[dot]com

CHARACTER INFORMATION

Name: Serey Dorrin (Pronounced: Sir-ray Door-in)

Age: 18

Nationality: Amadician

APPEARANCE

Hair: Shoulder length, thick, curly, dark brown hair. She also has bangs that cover her forehead.

Eyes: Brown, with thick eyelashes

Skin: fair skinned with a heavy splattering of freckles

Height: 5'3” (160cm)

Voice: Alto in range, she tends to be soft spoken

Other: She has a long neck and a heart shaped face with high cheekbones, a long straight nose, and a small chin that all together give her a cat-like appearance. If one were to brush her bangs aside, they would find her forehead branded with the letter “T”. Serey is strong and agile, with the muscles of someone use to hard labor.

OPTIONAL

Special skill: She is a survivor, who doesn't take the time to feel sorry for herself.

Knowledge weakness: She knows little of history. She also has a poor sense of direction, and is unable to make much sense of maps.

Physical weakness: She has never been much of a runner and no good on horseback.

Personality weakness: She can be stubborn, and hates being wrong. While she is slow to anger, she tends to internalize her feelings until they burst out- most often as a scream of frustration. She has a hard time forgetting her mistakes, is often frightened to try new things- fearful she will only make new mistakes.

PERSONALITY: Serey is a quite girl, who tries her best to stay out of trouble and do what is right. She is shy around people she does not know, but around those she does, she can talk incessantly. Serey is a hard worker, but also tends to be hard on herself- far more forgiving of the faults of others than of her own.

HISTORY:

Serey Dorrin was born the only daughter, and eldest of the four children of Tai Dorrin, a soldier for the Children of the Light. She was her father's favorite, as she was the spitting image of his mother and much alike to the woman in character. While her father was out campaigning, Serey, her mother, and her brothers lived on her grandfather's farm located on the outskirts of Amador.

Her happy childhood ended when, at the age of 13, her father took Serey and her 9 year old brother, Caden, to Amador for a week long visit. After settling into an inn, her father gave them each a silver penny and sent them off to the nearby market to buy sweets. Caden, eager for adventure, rushed ahead and the two were separated. After twenty minutes of searching, Serey was relieved to find him sitting on a doorstep, eating sweets and looking very proud of himself.

“Look what I found,” he said and pulled a belt purse out from behind his back.

Serey snatched it away from him. “Where'd you find this?” Peering inside, she found it full of gold coins.

Caden tried to snatch it back. “It's mine now, give it over!”

Spinning on her heels she ran back towards the inn, and her father. She would give the purse to him, he'd know what to do with it.

“Stop that girl!” someone yelled, and Serey found her arms pinned behind her back.

A crowd gathered, and a man stepped forward. “What do we have here?” A man said, grabbing the purse. His white cloak gleamed in the sun, and he wore a satisfied smile.

Serey, unable to meet his eyes, mumbled, “I found it on the ground. My father--”

The whitecloak gripped her arm. “Come with me,” he said, and steered her into a nearby building. “I think I've found your stolen purse, Pieter.”

Pieter, another whitecloak, accepted the purse, and nodded. His eyes shifted to focus on Serey. “You know the penalty for theft, girl.”

It was not a question, but Serey nodded anyway.

Pieter's eyes grew cold. “Get her out of my sight.”

Serey found herself in a small jail cell. She waited and waited for her father to come. When he did, she would explain what had happened- that surely Caden had found the purse on the ground, that all of this was a misunderstanding, and then her father would make everything alright. But her father never came. A week later, Serey was tried, found guilty and released, the letter “T” branded on her forehead.

Not knowing where else to go, she made her way back to the inn, but the inn keeper would not let her past the door. “Tai Dorrin is gone, girl, and if you are not by the count of three, I'll call for the guards. One... Two...”

Serey ran. She spent the next year running, making her way from Amador to her grandfather's farm (where she was chased off- her father announcing he had no daughter), down the river Eldar, across the Sea of Storms to Tear, and then up the river Erinin to Tar Valon. During her travels she took odd jobs, usually in inns, saving up her wages for when she would have to flee to another town, another city.

Not everyone knew what the brand meant, and she had cut her hair into bangs and took to wearing a head band to hide it. But, even so, someone eventually caught a glance of it, someone who did not buy her story that it was a birthmark. Then, she would move on.

When she first came to Tar Valon, Serey did not intend to stay long. But, the city grew on her. Crime was so low that those who saw her brand and knew it's meaning just shook their head, rather than chasing her off. Even the Aes Sedai, who were the monsters of bedtime tales, became something else in Tar Valon: respected, powerful women who's grace and poise Serey desperately wanted to emulate.

After four years in the city, Serey made her way up the Tower steps and wrote her name down in the Novice Book. After five years of running and hiding, she had given up on her father ever rescuing her. Bitterness and a desperate need to feel like she belonged, made the Tower seem like a great fit. After all, if she were no daughter of Tai Dorrin, he would not care that a girl named Serey wanted to become a witch.

Basic Information

Handle : Elliara

Character Count : 0

Contact : elliara@live.com

Character Information

Name: Iraleia Surevin (Temarelin)

Age: 17

Nationality: Andoran

Appearance

Hair: Light Brown

Eyes: Blue

Skin: Fair

Height: 5ft4

Voice: Quiet and softly spoken. People often find it hard to hear her and talk to her.

Other: Iraleia has a round face with a kewpie doll mouth. Her sad blue eyes are set close together over a pixie nose and her light brown hair falls in curls to her shoulders. She has slender fingers with short, chewed nails. She is approximately 190 pounds (or 86.4kg).

Optional

Special Skills:

Knowledge Weakness:

Physical Weakness:

Personality weakness: Iraleia’s main personality weakness is her lack of self-confidence which tends to prevent her from trying new things. She is doesn’t like change and reacts by retreating further into herself.

Personality As stated above Iraleia is a softly spoken girl with self-esteem issues. She is slow to smile and laugh and finds it hard to socialize with others; this often makes her appear cold and distant when in fact she yearns to make friends, but just can’t bring herself to do so. For a long time she had been told that she couldn’t do anything. As much as she did not want to be in the tower and had a shaky start, she ends up realising that it is her only way to make something of herself and becomes studious. It is also at this time that she slowly begins to build confidence and self-esteem.

History  

The acrid smell of smoke permeated the otherwise cool, crisp air and the flames in front of Iraleia seemed to be reaching out to try and touch her and pull her in. She thought she could hear the cruel laughter of the men as they tore at her mother’s clothes and held blades dulled with blood at the throats of her elder brothers while their father watched on at the evil that was befalling his family that night. The sound of her mother screaming, the breaking of glass, the crackling of flames and that evil laughter melded in her mind, deafening her with a roar…

Iraleia sat bolt upright and looked around herself trying to get her bearings. Sweat beaded on her brow and dripped from her neck into a pool between her breasts. Her heart was pounding so fast and so loud she was sure the girls in the room would hear her and wake from their slumber. Taking a deep breath she lay her head back on her too soft pillow and closed her eyes, afraid to sleep. The events of her dream still ran through her mind. She thought she could still smell the smoke and hear the screams and laughter. She knew these were not her memories; she was far too young when her family was brutally murdered to have any memories of the event. She wouldn’t know what happened to them at all if it weren’t for her nurse, Jolara, who saved her from the burning building and escaped with her to Caemlyn, there raising her as her own. But even that was short lived. Jolara, already an old woman, died leaving the 5 year old Iraleia to the care of an orphanage. For a long ten years she was taunted and subjected to physical and emotional abuse which left her scarred and void of emotion and hope. Her friends were non-existent and she became an outsider, retreating further inside herself. Unloved and unwanted, she wished for death to take her away from the life she was only just surviving, because surely she was not living.

When finally her chance for a better life did come, it came from an unlikely source. An Aes Sedai and her warder had come incognito to Caemlyn on a recruiting mission to find girls with the ability to learn to channel. It had come as a surprise to Iraleia that she could be anything more than an orphan with no prospects and although the idea of leaving the orphanage was tempting she was afraid of change and felt that even death was better than facing an unknown life outside of her “comfort zone”.

It is here that Iraleia’s story and life truly begin…

DM Handle: WhiteWolf

RP Character: Yrean Stavrosi

Guild Ranger and Shopkeepr

Rank None

WS=17

Current status of character. Not very active, waiting on Mat to finish up the Murder in the Yards rp so we can do Mat's final rp as Cari

Average estimation of your activity for RP on DM: 3 to 4 houres a day depending on work commitments

Previous position(s) Yrean has never held any positions in this Div.

Yrean Stavrosi

Ranger and Shopkeeper

We are Grey. We stand between the Light and the Shadow

    “No you did not kill him Rhya and neither did i although i was tempted, but for once i erred on the side of caution.” A small smile flickered across Owen’s face as he said this. He was not a vindictive man, although there were those who would disagree with that. “He is more than likely trying to explain how he got a dagger wound to whomever he lives with, that is if anyone would have him.”

    Owen passed a battered pewter mug to Rhya, indicating she should drink. Mechanically she raised the mug to her lips and drank, almost without realising what she was doing. “It is no good dwelling on something like this Rhya. Tonight you have learnt a valuable, if painful, lesson. When using need to find something in the Wolf Dream we do not always know what is going to happen next. We must always be on our guard here and no matter who we meet we cannot lower our guard. If we do we face situations that we might not be able to free ourselves from.”

    Owen and Rhya stayed by their fire for some time before Owen indicated it was time for them to return to their bodies. “We can talk about this later, but for now you need sleep. While we are here we do not get as restful a sleep as we would if we were not here.” Standing up Owen offered his hand to Rhya and pulled her to her feet. Then after a moment Rhyablinked out of existence and a moment later so did Owen.

    It was some time later that a shadow seemed to detach itself from the other shadows and make its way over to the remains of the campfire. Glancing down at the remains of the fire, one boot slowly moving through the ashes, the person was obviously deep in thought.

    “So he has another one of his brats around now does he, well he knows where that will end, the same way as the others.”

    For a moment there was silence, and then a cold, mirthless laughter could be heard, echoing across the valley until it faded into a silence more chilling than what that laughter promised.

Owen

The WhiteWolf

Ranger Leader

*Dips Myst back in the chilli and starts again*

It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it ;)

Books that inspire?

I think the only one that has really influenced me is Michael Moorcocks Elric series, but that is more in character identity then in storylines. Most of the writers i read are not the sort that can easily be transferred to the WOT world.

Music is more my inspiration, both sound wise, and subject matters.

Lan would be my choice-there is so much scope there for additional stories and i would so love to be the one to write him dunking Nynaeve in something horrid and smelly ;D

Character Name: Daedric Zeramene

Email address: artiestarner@gmail.com

Division: Freelanders

Guild: None at the moment.

Physical Description: Daedric is somewhat tall for a Saldean, which means he is around normal height for the rest of the world. With jet black hair and bright emerald eyes, he is slim and muscular with broad shoulders and a definitive collarbone. Around twenty years old, he’s just finding his way on his own and may grow a little more before he reaches his full height and breadth. Typical of Saldea, he possesses the bold, signature nose, which frames a face with high cheekbones and a strong, chiseled chin. His tight, muscular body is a testament to his upbringing and tall, muscular father and shorter, slender mother. As of yet he is without scars or piercings. His hair is thin, and he favors it tilted to right, left to the observer, its dark tips nearly touching his dark eyebrows. When not in armor he favors a dark tunic of a tough fabric, a black belt, black trousers, and black boots. He normally wears a thin, curved blade on his left hip in a un-descript dark leather sheath. His skin is pale, and he normally keeps himself clean shaven.

Place of Birth/Raising: Saldea. Somewhere in the region of Tyr.

Character History:

Daedric has lived his entire life with his mother and father. His father served the Saldean crown as a soldier until a wound in restricted his mobility to the point that he was honorably discharged. His father did everything he could to teach Daedric anything useful about life and soldiering, tutoring him with the typical Saldean favored saber, the short bow, horse riding, and the basics about tracking and hunting so as to prepare him how to make it through on his own if he was ever lost in the wilderness. Daedric’s mother taught him rudimentary cooking and also secretly taught him how to be somewhat adept with knives, unbeknownst to his father. It’s also unbeknownst to his father that he somewhat favors using those knives, though Daedric has yet to be truly battle tested with any weapon.

 Other notable figures in his life are his uncle and his sister. His uncle, a broad shouldered, burly man, was never very fond of the smaller, quicker weaponry and fighting style native to Saldea. Instead he favored the long sword more notably used by the Shienarians. He taught Daedric what he could of the weapon, like his mother, secretly, because Daedric’s father was not fond of the weapon or the break with Saldean normalcy.

 Daedric’s sister, Alicia, is, much to his dismay, his only source of information on the opposite sex. He has never had opportunity for dalliance as of yet in his young life, though he longs to, as he feels he can prove himself adept with the art of flirtation. She is also well versed in accounting and history, constantly having badgered him throughout his life to improve upon his studies of the world and culture, as he’ll never know when he’ll need the knowledge. His family is not from noble roots, but neither are they dirt poor. They gave him every advantage they could afford and produce.

 Somewhat older than usual, he is considered a couple years late to go on his first ‘ranging’ along the blight. His mother, ever fierce, has been able to restrain her son, against his father’s wishes while in his crippled state. Finally putting his foot down, he has arranged for Daedric to accompany a patrol along the border, both to know and respect what soldiers do as well as to introduce his son to soldiering. This is where Daedric’s story begins, a couple days ride from his family’s humble abode, on his own, accompanying an old contingent of light Saldean cavalry, absorbing and learning what he can.

I will do my best to come up with something.....however, off the top of my head how about we do a parody of something? not sure what just throwing stuff out here to see what sticks ;D

*Picks Myst up, dips her in the chilli and then licks it all off*

*Smacks lips*

Nothing like a Belgian wench covered in chilli ;)