Ze'el had to admit that he liked his new barracks a lot more than the old ones. The Soldier barracks weren't exactly the most comfortable of living spaces. They were small, and yet you still had to share them with another man, and you never knew who had been there before you. The furniture wasn't in the best of states because they had been used by many men, all of whom channeled the power for every chore. To make a long story short, Ze'el hardly liked the Soldier barracks. The Dedicated barracks... well they were a step up. Less people made it past Soldier level, many burning themselves out or giving into the taint, and those that did generally took better care of their belongings.

The thoughts about living space reminded him of his recent change of attire. Ze'el glanced down at silver sword-shaped pin on his collar. He had gotten the adornment only a few days ago, and he was glad for the raise. If he had to deal with that fool of a roommate for much longer... Ze'el smirked but didn't continue the thought. Apparently after Sheinar he had proved his worth, and so was promoted to Dedicated. His merry thoughts sobered a little when thinking of Sheinar. That battle had taught him his mortality, as well as his weakness. He had always known that he was weaker in the Power than many other men, but seeing the lightning bolts and other awesome weaves that the Asha'man wove was humbling. Even his fellow Soldiers and Dedicated wove better than him. However, the reason they were dead and he was not was his intelligence, and Ze'el intended to keep it that way.

Since the battle, Ze'el had been letting a little more of his true self show through the mask of Kassian. He found that it was much harder than acting purely innocent and cowardly like Kassian. He had years of experience being Kassian, and it was hard to moderate how much of his natural malevolence showed. Nevertheless, he was managing, and today he would have his first lesson as a Dedicated. He was conflicted, he knew that Dedicated learned stronger weaves, but at the same time he didn't really want to learn the massively destructive weaves that most Asha'men favored. He would rather learn weaves that were sneakier... stealthier, but he supposed that in open battle stealthy weaves didn't help you all that much. Wondering what exactly he would learn, Ze'el arrived at the place where he was supposed to meet his teacher.

Name : Revan Atreides

Age: 18

Place of Origin: Arad Doman

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Dark Brown

Height: 5’11”

Weight: 83 kgs

Brief History:

I was born in Katar to Renatus and Elena, both merchants in the Saldaean ice peppers business. My parents’ import business was highly successful, and eventually they were able to purchase an estate to the south, near the Almoth Plain, where we owned several farms and vineyards. My father had undergone military training with Rodel Ituralde in his youth, and the great captain was often an honoured guest in our house. During his visits, he would tell us much about battles and war, and I found myself wanting to be more than just another merchant in the family, and for many years I dreamt of being a warrior in Lord Ituralde’s army. He often gave me instruction in the use of swords, spears, and even archery, and I showed good promise according to him. I also demonstrated a keen mind at strategy, and Lord Ituralde encouraged me to join the army. However, at 16 when he offered to get me inducted into the army, under him no less, I refused, my heart rather foolishly set on winning that of Azaira, a fiery and beautiful girl from Bandar Eban, and instead I prepared to take up my parents’ business in that city. I was in Bandar Eban for a year before I realized that she held no interest in me. Heartbroken, I returned to the estate. A week later, a band of brigands from the Plain attacked our estate, and most of the farms and vineyards were burnt and looted. They tried to take our house as well, but along with some of my father’s guards, my father and I fought them off. That night, with my blade glistening with the blood of my enemies, I realized that in the Oneness alone, away from all emotion, would I find my peace from my personal demons. At the same time, I was filled with an anger against all those who brazenly sought to wreak havoc on our world like those brigands, and I wanted to stop such men from their evil. But I also saw that the roots of this problem were deeper, and it is the world itself that currently heaves in turmoil. False Dragons and their Dragonsworn, rumours of trouble from the Blight, and the everlasting disputes between Arad Doman and Tarabon, these are the problems that we need to address. And what better way to do all of these things than to become a Warder and serve the Aes Sedai? And so I am here, and I ask to be trained by the Gaidin, to become more than just a normal man living out his normal life and waiting for a hero to save his world. I ask to be part of the great tradition of Warders and Aes Sedai, and hope one day to play a part in the Pattern.

Kura's gonna do OP lesson for me, but if you have anything else that you want to teach, that'd be great :)

I can do a TtPC... tomorrow...

looks good :) CC'd

*appears with loud bangs and bright flashing lights that distract you while I steal ALL THE COOKIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*

Well, I need all of my dedicated classes, so... :) anything you teach is good with me

Thanks again for the offer but like I said, I don't really want to bust into the party :) Besides, I already had a different idea for my inter-div thread, so I wouldn't have used this to advance anyway. But thanks again for being so welcoming. :)

No prob, I've been through the sporatic posting stage myself, just try to catch me on MSN and we can work something out. :)

Note: the Aes Sedai interaction in the bio was approved by the WT

Jac al'Caar

Age: 19

Place of Origin: Early Years 0-9: No fixed origin, Later years 9-19: Baerlon

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Eye Color: Dark Brown

Height: 6'0

Weight: 190

Weapon of Choice: Sword

Personality: Likeable but can become moody and violent. Loyal to friends. Does not abide people taking him for granted.

History:

Here stands Jac al'Caar. A lone, rain drenched figure illuminated by an occasional flash of Lightning. He is unfazed by the rain or the Thunder and Lightning as the storm rages, whipping his cloak about him. Standing with nothing but the sword he was given, by a man who took him in and treated him as his own son for almost ten years, and his small shoulder bag containing his meagre belongings. He felt relief as he, finally, looked upon the majesty that was the city of Tar Valon.

The city his father so dearly wanted to see.

Jac al'Caar was born in the Wagon his parents had travelled, and lived in. His early life was pretty much normal for a young lad. As normal as a life could be living in a Wagon that looked like one of the Tinkers', albeit slightly less colourful. He was an only child to Paet and Maise al'Caar, happy and always with a ready smile, dark of hair and eye, like his parents'. He could be mischievous, at times, but would never shirk his chores, and was ever helpful around the farms where they were allowed to stop and trade supplies for whatever work needed doing.

His father had left his home, a farm near Bearlon, when he was only 20. He had been yearning to see more of the world ever since taking in a Gleeman during a storm and listening avidly to his tales of adventure. After that, Paet decided to sell the farm, against Maises' wishes, and to move to … well, not even Paet knew where. But he knew that he wanted to see cities other than Bearlon, maybe even Tar Valon itself. Maise, who had misgivings at this wool-brained plan of Paets, had slowly but surely warmed to the idea. Paet bought a wagon from a trader in Bearlon and spent the last three weeks of their time at the Farm making the Wagon a small home on wheels. Almost a year after they had embarked on their adventure, Maise fell pregnant with Jac. They were happy times for the al'caar family. Eleven years they lived this way, nine with Jac, before Paet and Maise decided they should take Jac to where his family had come from. They headed for Baerlon where they intended to spend a day or two to celebrate Jac's 9th Naming Day.

They were a mile outside Baerlon, when the bandits struck...

There were only two of them, but they were armed. Jac came out of the wagon when he heard the commotion, he saw his father wrestling with one of the bandits then turned to see where his Mother was. If only he hadn't. Just as he turned, he saw the sneering bandit running his Mother through with his sword, he couldn't help the thought that this was the first sword he had ever seen, and it was buried almost to the hilt in his Mother's midriff. He heard a roar of sheer pain and anguish he didn't even realise was his own. Somehow his Father had killed the other bandit and was rushing towards the second, screaming like some wild animal "MAISE NOOOO!!!" . But bare hands are no match for the cold steel blade of a sword. He fell just as easily as Jac's Mother.

Jac was alone.

In a daze he stepped off the wagon, moving towards his fallen parents. The bandit advanced on him slowly. Sneering just as he had when he had killed Jac's mother. Then there was a sudden shout, "STOP." Jac could never decide what surprised him more, the sheer force of the woman's voice or her appearance, dressed all in finery the likes of which he had never seen before. It was the man who accompanied her that caught his eye though. He descended on the murderous scum as unstoppable as an avalanche, his sword a blur. Unseen, the woman had approached him. Her dress was dark green, slashed with white. She knelt in front of him with unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry". The man who was with her walked over wiping his blade on a torn piece of cloth "We must be on our way to Baerlon, are we taking this with us?" He said gruffly. "Be gentle with him, we will take him with us and leave him with a friend". It was then that Jac broke down and the woman took him in her arms until he could cry no more tears.

From there Jac was taken to Baerlon, to an Inn, where he later learned that the woman and man were an Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah and her Warder. He was cared for in the Inn as if he had been born there. The anguish he felt at the loss of his parents diminished, but never really went away. He worked harder than he ever did on the farms where he helped his father when they needed to trade for food and supplies. He even learned how to use a sword from one of the strongarms in the employ of the innkeeper.

He stayed in Baerlon until his 19th Naming Day.

It all started so well, he remembered.

He was so full of optimism, feeling he could almost run all the way to Tar Valon itself. It was his 19th Naming Day, just before dawn. He chose this day to set off to the Tower due to its significance, 10 years to the day since… No, he would not dwell too long on that, as he did every year.

He was sitting alone in the common room of the Inn he'd lived in for the last ten years. With his bags at his feet, the smell of smoke and stale ale and wine still heavy in the air and the smell of the first loaves of bread of the day just starting to waft through from the Kitchen. Tom came and sat opposite him with a long bundle in his hands. Jac looked across at the man who had been like a father to him, no, Tom had been a father to Jac and more than that, he was a friend, a good friend.

"Well, lad, you enjoy y'self last night?" Jac's puzzled look made Tom continue, "Killie got in y' rooms last night didn't she?" Jac's horrified expression told Tom all he need to know. "Y' first time too I'll wager, I hadn't even finished me drink when she was back down here grinin' like the cat what got the cream."

"Tom, Don.."

"Calm y'self lad, I'm jokin with y'" Tom handed the bundle over to Jac "Here lad, considerin' where y' goin, I think it only fittin' y' have this. It was me da's see, he sent it to me hopin' I'd follow his footsteps, see. Y' remember when the Aes Sedai brought y' here… well… The reason she did was… Well me Da was a Warder… Her warder, her first, it was her what give it me when... When he died. You see, my ma died when she brought me into this world, the Light Bless her, and my Da couldn't really cope. He was a Soldier and bringin' up a new Babe on 'is own just wasn't for him. So he left me here with his brother and just went off and nobody knew where 'e was goin' to. He used t' send money back from time to time t' see I wasn't bein' a burden, but he never said anything more about it." He stopped to fetch a drink for himself and Jac, before continuing.

"It wasn't until I was 15 that the Lady Mara, I know that ain't her real name she says it's best not to know for me and her, but she came and gave me that sword and t' tell me that my Da had saved her life but lost 'is own in doin' it. She explained a few things includin' that my Da was her Warder. She did that becaue she felt she owed it to him and she... " Tom cleared his throat as his voice started to crack."Enough about that anyway. When he passed this on to me, I new I wouldn't need it, so I thought I best keep it in case, well, I suppose in case my son might need it."

At this point, a tear Tom had been fighting back, broke free and, shakily, Tom continued . "Well, lad I'd call it an honour, if y'd… If y' know …. If…" Jac laid a hand on his shoulder "Tom, stop,Tom…" he stopped then and looked at the man who had taken in a 9 year old boy, and raised him as lovingly as any father had "No, that's not right, if it's ok with you can I call you… Da?" At this Tom rounded the table, took him up in a hug which Jac felt would have crushed a bear! "My boy , my boy, o' course y' can!"

When they'd had a chance to compose themselves, Tom pointed at the bundle, "Well are y' goin' t' open that or not, 'cause if y' don't want it I'll pick up another stray and give it t' him in another ten years!" Jac couldn't help but laugh, but as soon as his eyes set upon the sword, the laughter turned into a disbelieving gawp.

"y' tryin' t' catch flies there my boy?" Tom said with a grin, "A beauty, ain't she?"

"To… Da, I can't… you can't"

"Jac, I'll have none o' that now" Said Tom all serious now, "I think of you as a son, do you think I would have it any other way?" Jac shook his head before Tom continued, "Seeing you walk back through that door, wearing that sword, a full Warder, well, that'll be the proudest day of my life!" Tom scrubbed at his face at a stray tear

"Now let's be havin' y' away! I've paid good coin f' this carriage, pulled in a few favours too, y'll be owin' me big time when y' get back!"

It wasn't until then that Jac noticed the Carriage standing outside the Inn in the, steadily growing, grey of dawn. Tom hustled and harried Jac outside and bundled him into the waiting carriage. With a choked  "just come back n' see me ok? When it's all done." Tom waved him away.

"I will, Da, I will. And I'll make you proud too, I promise." The last was spoken in a whisper to Both Tom and Paet, and his mother Maise.

Here stands Jac al'Caar. A lone, rain drenched figure illuminated by an occasional flash of Lightning. He is unfazed by the rain or the Thunder and Lightning as the storm rages, whipping his cloak about him. Standing with nothing but the sword he was given, by a man who took him in and treated him as his own son for ten years. His small shoulder bag containing his meagre belongings sat in a puddle at his feet.

He would be a Warder. He would repay the kindness he was shown by an Aes Sedai.

He will become a Warder. Nothing less will he accept. For his parents. For Tom.

He will become a Warder.

Lol, don't listen to her, Tai, I believe in you! *is one man cheering squad*

...

ppssttt, by the way, I like my Soldiers well done

;D

well, you do have to be naked for the novice to accepted and accepted to sedai tests, so I would think that the other AS would notice the... extra bits

this response was late, but just because of my pride I want to say that I've never let a bio sit for more than a day or so, and that I never got the first sending of your bio. Obviously everything got worked out, but I just wanted to say that I'm not a horribly lazy bum :)

I suggest posting this up on the BT boards, rather than here, you'll probably get a quicker response :)

well I can teach whatever class you need, just give me a poke :)

well, you could be 16 in one thread and 43 in another, but you would have to specify that the 16 one is retro :)

Ze'el dropped the man that he had been carrying on the ground, now that the Healers were coming around to help the wounded. He had no skill in healing, but just for appearance sake he wove pathetic strands of Air, Water, and Spirit, until he was shoved aside by an Asha'man who was obviously skilled in the art. Glad to be relieved, Ze'el released the Power for the first time since he had first grasped it in Sheinar. He couldn't hold back a gasp as the rush left him; combine with the lack of adrenaline, Ze'el realized for the first time how utterly exhausted he was. Not only was he physically exhausted from doing more physical exertion than he was used to, but he had also used more of Saidin and for longer than he had ever done before.

His shocked caused him to collapse to the ground, and a man who he recognized slightly came up to him. "Kassian, are you alright?" he heard as if through a fog. Ze'el managed to nod his head slightly- he wasn't wounded other than a multitude of scratches. He was physically alright, but... he was a bit odd. The death of his comrades didn't bother him at all- even in battle the normal emotions of anger or despair didn't touch him. However, Ze'el could honestly say that that was the first time that he was genuinely in danger, and also the first time that he was in genuine desperation. That battle taught him the true boundaries of his strength. He had always known that he was weak in the Power, but it had never truly meant anything to him. Ze'el resolved to be more creative in his use of the Power, the blunt grenades that he had thrown at the shadowspawn had worked, but they were extremely draining.

Also, as he wandered over towards the Inn, Ze'el realized that Kassian was in no way able to do what needed to be done. Kassian was too stupid to come up with creative uses of Saidin. Kassian was too weak to better himself, and too weak to take care of himself in battle. Ze'el grimaced, the disguise of Kassian had been very useful, and very helpful, but it appeared that he would have to let a little bit more of his true self shine through. He finally managed to make it to the Inn, and around him he saw the fatigued looks of the men around him, and the awed looks of those who hadn't been there. He almost barked a laugh right there, but refrained. He would definitely have to better himself, if just to have the power to silence the whispers of the fools around him.

So, I'm trying to break my way back into the RPing thing. So, anyone wanna give me a go? I would love to train a trainee (I've had one half of that req done forever >:( ) And I'm up for whatever though. I'm going to have a pretty busy week, but after that I've got a whole week off :) so if you want fast updates I'll be lightning quick then. Anyone up for it?

I'd need an Inter Div RP for my raising requirements. If you could fit one more Dedi into this I'd love to join up :)

wow, you got completely blown off on this one  :-\ Well, if you're still up for it I'd be willing to get some help with my reqs :)

OOC: *whistles* slightly late, but just to finish it up...

IC: It happened so fast. One moment there was nothing, and the next shadowspawn flooded into the city. They seemed to appear from no where, spawning from nooks and corners, and even shadows. The logical part of Ze'el's mind whispered that only Shades could appear from the shadows, but even the trollics seemed to pop out of no where. For an instant, he panicked; Ze'el had never been in a situation where he honestly thought he was in danger. Men just as panicked as he was scurried around like ants, desperately fighting for their lives. A sword whistled through the air towards him, and Ze'el froze, merely staring at it like a fool. It was his lucky day however, and a man trying to run away ran between him and the blade. The fool's head was cleaved in two, and blood (among other unnamed fluids) splattered Ze'el.

For most men, this would make them panic even further, but it was all Ze'el needed to snap out of his pitiful state. Ze'el grasped Saidin quickly, for once glad that Covai had forced him to learn how to grasp the source quickly. He weaved Earth and Fire into the ground in front of the Trollic, making it explode and showing bits of gore all over the ground. Once the immediate threat was gone, Ze'el took a moment to gaze around himself. Men and beasts were dying all around him, some snarling, some screaming, and some pleading (although the last was mostly from the humans). He gripped Saidin like a lifeline, although his pitiful strength in the Power did him little good. Dryly, he realized that perhaps his teachers had been right to attempt to teach him the use of mundane weapons; the extra security would be more than welcome.

Getting an idea, Ze'el looked around for something to throw. Rubble was everywhere, but the first thing he found that was of appropriate size was the severed hand of one of his former comrades. Ze'el sneered and kicked the deceased body away from his new weapon, and gingerly picked up the appendage. Deftly the Soldier wove Fire and Earth into the still-bleeding hand and threw it into an area densely populated by shadowspawn, and smirked when he saw the results. He repeated his barrage multiple times, sometimes with stones, and sometimes with limbs, and was satisfied by the consequences. He could have sworn that he had seen a Mydrall fall to his grenades, but common sense dictated that it was unlikely he would be able to fell a monster of that caliber.

He saw the black coated men begin to fall back to one point. "Must be the rally point," Ze'el thought. Just as he was about to leave and follow them, he heard a voice call out weakly to him. He didn't know why, but something made him turn and see what the disturbance was. The street was littered with strewn bodies and part of bodies, and charred from his relentless, murderous barrage; however, it seemed that one man was alive still. He was weak and appeared to have a wicked slash down his leg; there was no way he would be able to make it to the rally point. Ze'el almost didn't help him; after all, a body would just slow him down, but he then realized that it would look better for him to show up helping a survivor, regardless of the danger to himself. He bent down and picked up the Dedicated, using flows of Air to help him.

Together he and the nameless man made their way over to where the other men were going, and then he heard the Attack Leader (the smarter one, not the idiot that had gotten him into this mess) call out a retreat. "Wait!" Ze'el called out, and luckily the man holding the gateway open listened to him. He and his burden hobbled over towards the silver doorway to salvation, and dove through just as it was closing. Ze'el bit back a sneer as the burden thanked him, but managed to smile weakly. He could blame it on the "trauma" or some other worthless excuse. The cries of the dead and dying were finally gone, but the moans of the wounded still prickled Ze'el's ears. Calmly, he gazed around at his 'comrades' and decided that war was very overrated.

OOC: it's pretty gory, but I wanted to show how little Ze'el cared about anyone :) Sorry I didn't get around to posting more on this!

I actually like this a lot, it's a good idea to be able to put a numerical value to your character's attributes, it makes things a lot easier to understand.

Str: 7

Dex: 13

Con: 10

Int: 15

Wis: 17

Cha: 13

So, physical strength is pretty pathetic, but not the worst it could be, his endurance is okay, but not good, he's pretty graceful (I'm assuming Agility is Dex), but his real strength is in his wit. He's very intelligent, and very in tune with his surroundings. After all, he is a sociopathic maniac who lives to fool people :) And his charisma is high but not very high.

*pops in* Jehaine, if I'm not mistaken, only women can initiate a link. Men can join it but only women can create it.

CC'd

Love it :) CC'd