-- Biographies --
Abner
Balian
Balol
Biraseth Almeric
Byar
Cormak
Cyprien
Darien Da'Calin
Darion Bledthorn
Darpak
Eiron
Fero
Gozar
Jashagon
Karai
Kotorim Ky'Baira
Laryn Mordinn
Missive
Protus Dach'Mara
Quartael
Ramen
Rubel
Solei M'halain Vashir
Taig Desse
Trawelyg
Willard Marcanton Dosirae
Abner
Balian
Balol
Biraseth Almeric
Byar
Cormak
Cyprien
A child of poor farmfolk, I was raised in the fields by my father to toil at his side. A dutiful, serious child with farmwork to do will always grow into a strong and capable man. I guess spending my formative years baleing hay and ploughing the hard earth of the borderlands explains my prodigious strength and size.
My life was to be a carbon copy of my fathers. His land and his work was to be mine, passed on to me at his death. None of us expected what came to pass. I mean, every farm north of Fal Dara will at some point play host to maruding trollocs, it's as much a part of life as the wind or winter snows. What we never expected was death from our own kind. They were human, but they were not like us. Stange features hidden behind stranger insectoid helmets, gutteral drawling voices.
The day that made me who I am came about a month before my 14th naming day. I was in the fields, just within sight of home, mending a fence one of the bulls had bent trying to get into the cow's paddock when I saw the first lick of smoke. I began to run home, but as I drew closer, I saw the horses and men gathered about my home. I heard screams, my mothers, and with tears of rage and confusion blinding me, ran faster. I had visions of killing them all for hurting my ma, but the first one I ran up on merely knocked my to the ground and knelt on my back, pinning me down while I struggled. I got a hand free and punched his balls, which gave me a chance to get as far as my knees but by that time, the others gathered around, laughing at me. I was beaten into blackness. I don't know what happened next, but when I awoke, the strange, alien men were gone, I was far from my home and slumped in the saddle of a magnificent tall white horse.
The man who led the horse I rode was Missive. He still refuses to tell me how or where he found me. Considering some of the things we've seen together since, if he still doesn't want to tell me, perhaps it's better I don't know. All he would say in answer to my protests to take me home was "your home is ash, your family murdered. You'll ride with me."
I became a ward of Missive's, living near the western plains of Tar Valon, stable boy at the small inn where he'd taken me. Once in a while he would ride to the inn and take me hunting if the Guildmaster would let me go, teaching me the ways of the Spear and Halberd, training me in the warriors arts, giving me tasks to practice that whipped my body into shape, building my staminia and strength. As I grew more proficient, he'd take me into the ruins just north of the little inn, where we'd take our sport on giant spiders and snakes. Later it was mountain lions and huge, drooling bears in the hills east, or spirits and stealthy theives and bandits in the forests south west.
He said I would never find the men who'd killed my parents, but if I trained hard and learned to follow the rule of law, I could one day join the Guard, earn my whites and gain the only revenge I'd ever have, serving justice on those who pray on the weak and undefended. I'm proud to say that I'm enlisted in the Valon Guard now, that Missive's intervention has saved me from a life without purpose, filled only with hate and rage. I've gained new friends and found brotherhood within the ranks, learned to hate new enemies, and fought out my hate on the men I've come to know as Seanchen. I live to serve, to obey, to preserve a small pocket of peace in a world ravaged by wars. I've traveled to far away cities, camped rough in plains and forests without names, fought in battles history will never remember, but seldom a day goes by when I don't wish I could trade away this new life for another day in my father's fields, to come home to a suckling pig roasted by my mother's tender hand and sleep the sound sleep of a farm lad, worked to exhaustion with honest toil. Bah, if wishes were gold, then fools would be wealthy. Valon until death.
Darien Da'Calin
Darion Bledthorn
Darpak
Eiron
Fero
Gozar
Jashagon
Karai
Kotorim Ky'Baira
You make your way into a small tavern in the southern sprawls of Tar Valon and are greeted by a thick haze of tabac smoke. Several men wearing the uniform of the Valon Guard are seated spread out across the Tavern... This is obviously one of the best taverns in all of Tar Valon.
You take a seat at the bar and notice a massive greatsword leaning against the far wall, resting nearby a dark haired man. Noticing your attention on his weapon, the man turns around and gives you
a small nod before saying, 'An impressive weapon, isn't it?' You think you notice traces of a Saladaean accent in his deep voice, but it has obviously been years since this man has seen his homeland.
'It was my father's weapon when he was a soldier serving Queen Tenobia. Although it didn't get much use after he met my mother.' You think you hear him joking about himself to the wonders of Domani
women.
'My father was a trapper for most of his life, supporting my mother, myself and my sister. Although he was often called back into military service to fend off the latest shadowspawn raid into the lands near our estate. Even if he and my mother were often away with their work, I still remember my childhood fondly.'
Running his hand along the leather wrapped hilt his hard eyes seem to sink as if recalling a sad memory.
'It was a night like this... or so I'm told... When the shadow finally turned its gaze on our small peaceful lives. Father had just returned from another campaign deep into the blight and was telling my sister accounts of the battles... She's a green now and has always enjoyed war stories... When a knock on the door sounded.' His eyes seem to lose most of their hard edge as he continues.
'Being the dutiful hostess, she opened the door to find nobody there. Moments later my father was dead in his chair and then she spun around to see a man looming over her. Lucky for her my mother returned from one of her merchant trips and saw the vile act... Otherwise I'd be an only child as well as an orphan.'
'Flames flew from her fingertips, but the man didn't stop advancing... merely ignoring the fact that he was burning alive. Whilst my sister watched and saw what mother was doing, she copied... or something, and between the two of them they reduced the fiend into a pile of ashes. When it was all over she made my sister promise to travel to Tar Valon to learn to use her gift better and asked to be left alone with father..'
His hand grasps the hilt of the sword tightly and you think for a moment that you see a single tear streaking down his battle-weathered visage.
'When I returned home with the days trappings, I found both my parents dead and my sister a weeping mess.' he stays silent for a few more moments before shrugging. 'It's all just a distant memory now.'
Turning to you, he gives you a long hard asessing look, before saying, 'I suppose I could sit here all night and tell you of how I was an Illuminator, a mercenary and a warder student, but I have duties to attend to.' Inclining his head to you he goes to stand up but you feel the need to ask him a single question.
'If you were all those things, what do you do now?'
With a small grin he reaches for his dark cloak and tosses it across his shoulders, an embroidered white flame centered in the middle.
'Enjoy your stay in Tar Valon, stranger.' He intones as he reaches for his massive greatsword, sheathing it into an ornately worked harness, and heads for the door. Several of the off duty Valon jump to their feet and salute him as he strides off into the dark, cold night.
Laryn Mordinn
Missive
Protus Dach'Mara
Quartael
Ramen
Rubel
Solei M'halain Vashir
I was born in the northern most region of the Borderlands. My mother, who followed the way of the leaf, died shortly after childbirth, and so it was up to my father to raise me until I was four years of age. He was from a minor noble house in Saldaea, and an active Bordeguard. They met when my mothers caravan traveled through the outpost my father was stationed at. They had come to trade and share stories. My mother and father fell in love right away, but her father didn’t approve. My father had chosen a violent life, and that was unacceptable to my mothers people. When the caravan left the outpost three days later, my mother stayed behind, abandoned by her family. Almost a year later I was born, and two weeks after my birth my mother was gone forever. My father refused to give me up, seeing me as his only link to my mother. He enlisted the help of a local woman to care for me, and over the years he tried to teach me what he knew best, fighting. He wanted to pass on his knowledge, his experience, and fearing he wouldn’t live to father a son, he passed what he could on to me. At four years old I ran the village streets with a stick in my hand, and attacked every bush and bug I could find.
One day, my father sat me down and told me everything he knew about my mother. He told me of her beliefs and what he could of the way of the leaf. He explained that although his life did not permit him to live that way, he loved my mother and had respected her until her death. He wanted me to learn both ways of life, and learn to balance them.
During this time the trolloc raids on the border had begun to increase, and soon after our talk, the biggest raid we’d ever seen occurred. A massive horde of trollocs and myddraals raided the village, smashing through brick and mortar, killing and maiming everyone in sight. Every single man and boy old enough to hold a weapon died that day. Most of the young girls were smuggled out into nearby cities, myself included. I never saw my father again.
My nursemaid traveled with me to Andor, where she left me with an elderly couple in a village near Camelyn. My only possessions were the clothes I had on, a shortsword that had belonged to my father, and a letter bearing my fathers sigil. They tried to give me a proper ladies upbringing. They took away my fathers sword and forbade me from practicing my forms or pointing a stick at anything. I was taught to sew, paint, and sing., all activities proper for a lady. I would watch the village boys stick fighting in the streets, and wish I could join in.
A few weeks before my seventeenth birthday I overheard the couple discussing a marriage proposal that had been made for me. The man was old enough to have been a schoolmate of my fathers, and known to be very strict upon his first two wives. I had no wish to be wed, especially not to that man. I went to the small box where I knew they kept my fathers letter, and that's when I found out I was from a minor house in Saldaea, and that I had several half siblings. I decided it was time for me to take my fate into my own hands. So, I gathered some supplies and ran away. I wondered into a small town known as Four Kings, where I met a young man only a few years older than I. He was a vagabond, he roamed Andor, making a living off selling items abandoned on the streets. We became friends, and after a while he gave me the second sword I ever owned. It was a flamberge, so big I never imagined I'd be able to use it in a battle. For two years I roamed the land with him, and he taught me a lot about fighting and surviving. I met many friends on my travels, and learned the layout of Andor rather quickly.
Around my twentieth birthday we were relaxing in the Queens Blessing, playing a game of darts and sipping ale. A young girl came in and joined us. We started talking, and I liked her immediately. We became very close over the next few weeks and months and decided to become sisters in the Aiel fashion. The next day I was attending a wedding which had been announced for several days. I didn't know the bride or groom, but I decided it would be a good ocassion to dress like a lady again. I donned my best silk dress and riding cloak and joined the wedding party, where I met Missive. He was acting as honor guard, and I was very impressed with his self discipline and careful control . After the wedding I rode with the party back to Tar Valon, where I decided to check out the city. I'd only been to Tar Valon once or twice on business before. I liked what I saw and did a little research on the guard of the city. I decided this was where I wanted to make my home, so I applied for the Valon Guard, and a little later I was enlisted. I brought my near sister with me, and hoped we could both make a life for ourselves in Tar Valon. Soon after our arrival it was discovered that she could channel, and so she was sent to the White Tower, and became Novice Juliette. I was shocked, but it also made me even more glad that I'd decided to join the Valon guard. I've since dedicated my life to Tar Valon and the guard, and can proudly say I'm VG for life.
Taig Desse
Trawelyg
Willard Marcanton Dosirae
I grew up in the lands of Tarabon, coming from a Minor Noble House that had a good spot of land where I learned to judge how to do things in the wild. My Father taught me numerous things, how to butcher a corpse so it could sustain me, how to cover my tracks, how to sneak around, how to notice and search for things most others aren't able to find. My Father was a bit of an extravagant, but, that was besides the point. He married a woman who could channel, and she bore him a girl besides me, my sister. I stayed with my family until I was fifteen, when the invaders came. They slew my Father as he tried to protect me and my Mother and sister, which they later enslaved. At first, while I made my escape, this puzzled me. But I have grown used to the reasons they do such things. They both could channel. I made my way as best as I could, alone, with minimal amounts of equipment, and my father's prized weapon, a razored whip.
I made a small amount of coin and purchased some rooms alongside the country of Andor, where I tried to make a name for myself as someone who defended people, someone who people could trust. I was able to live in the town of Baerlon then, where I served on the Town's Watch. Much was I the target of many thieves, murderers, and not to mention the Trollocs, Fades, Dreadlords and even Seanchan, once again. Politics got too heavy, too involved, and it came to a point where I was the only Watchman braving the streets. It was at such a point where not any single other Andorman or woman would come to my aid, so I began to seek aid elsewhere.
In my travels, I had befriended Amberyn, who I am engaged to and will marry soon. It was she who introduced me to Kotorim, and much to my liking, he and I got along right away. I did my best to show that I was worth having in Tar Valon, and soon was brought into the folds of the Guardsmen. I now serve as a Dockguard, and hope to elevate through the ranks.