Eye Color: Seem to change with the season
Hair Color: Short Brown
Height: 5’5&
Weight: 135
Age: 18
Place of Origin: Boannda, Ghealdan


Rank: Tower Guard
Weaopon Score: 13
Philosophy: The Flame and the Void
Primary Weapon: Bastard Sword
Secondary Weapon: Bow
Tertiary Weapon: Hand to Hand


 Corin enjoyed a quiet secure start to life on his family farm outside Boannda in Ghealdan … but he dreamed of adventure.
 Corin was the oldest of 2 sons born to Dubye and Elrayne Danveer. He spent his first few years in this time growing up in Samara where Dubye was stationed with the Ghealdanian army. It was after the birth of his second son that Dubye decided to move his family and bought a small farm outside Boannda.
  It was here that Corin’s thirst for adventure cultivated and grew. Corin and his brother Tabrent would help Dubye with the sheep and general choirs around the farm. In the evening Corin and Dubye would go hunting in the surrounding woods. Corin loved to go hunting with his father and would often ask his father to tell him stories of the places he had been. Dubye loved his son and his continuous curiosity, teaching him all he new of tracking and hunting with a bow. Over time Corin became almost as good a tracker as his father and they would often wager choirs over tracking contests.
  For his 14th naming day his parents got him his own bow, and with that Corin’s thirst for adventure expanded. His father would occasionally take him on hunting trips into the thick woodlands south of Boannda. By his 15th naming day he was making the trips alone, often without his mothers knowledge, and by now had become quite accurate with his bow. This eventually turned into trips that included time in Boannda listening to stories of far off places. His thirst for adventure grew greater, and his eye for women as well. He began to find it hard to complete his choirs as his mind often wandered with thoughts of adventure and occasionally a fancy clad women added to it.
  By his 16th naming day he had convinced his dad that he needed to learn sword play, for defense of course. For most of that year his hunting trips reduced to a lot time to learn from his father once again. It was not uncommon that year to hear the thwack of sticks cracking together as Corin trained with his dad. Although his dad would not let him carry a sword, he occasionally managed to find times, when his parents where away, to take his father’s sword from over the mantel. Every chance he got he trained with the sword, til it felt so natural to his hand. He may not be the best, his dad beat him often, but he was determined to do his best with the teaching his dad was willing to give him. 
  He tried to get his brother Tabrent to join him on his trips to Boannda, but his brothers interests where in the farm unlike his own. With his choirs continually not done and his presence away from the farm growing, his parents knew they where losing him. They tried to talk to him but, although his love for them was strong, the pull of adventure was stronger.
  It was on his 18th naming day that Corin informed his parents that he had purchased passage to Tar Valon. He was off to travel and find adventure and there was no better place he could think of then Tar Valon as a start. His time in Boannda had brought him many stories of Aes Sedia and the men that protected them. Although from some of the stories he had hear about the women who could channel, he had a hard time believing they would need protecting. If there was an adventure to be had, they seemed to be involved one way or another and the men assigned to them were there as well. The way he looked at it, if he wasn’t a woman that could channel he might as well be the man assigned to protect her. After all if she could channel how much work could it be.
  He spent the next couple of days consoling his mother about his decision and organizing his stuff for the trip. When the morning arrived of his depart his family met him at the door to see him off. His brother Tabrent hugged him and offered prayer to the light for his safe travel before heading out to choirs. Tabrent was always quiet and this just seemed to be his way of dealing with things. His mother cried and cried, between the sessions of crying and hugging she managed to wish him well and prayers for safe passage and a speedy return. Home was always welcome to him and he new it. His father finally picked up a blanket roll, separated his wife from her son and, nodding toward the road offering to walk with Corin for a spell on his way to the port in Boannda. As Corin and Dubye made there way to the road, Corin took a moment to look back at the farm he was leaving. Is mother still on the steps watching through red wet eyes, His brother in the yearlings pen and the sun rising slowly over the roof of the barn. With a sigh he turned to his father “Was it hard for you when you left home the first time?” Dubye looked across the homestead and then back to his son “It is never easy leaving a place where you are comfortable” looking into his eyes hard he added “But always remember where you come from and no matter what happens you are always welcome.” He paused for a moment ensuring his words had set in and then laughed “Come … let us see how well you lend to the motion of a boat.” With a mischievous twinkle in his eye he placed a strong arm around his son and they headed down the road to Boannda. 
    Corin and his father talked of the many hunting trips they had taken over the years while they made their way to the docks. Buy the time they arrived at the boat that Corin had secured passage on he was as nervous as the first time he looked down a bow at a rabbit. As he said his good-byes to Dubye, his father offered a couple words of advise and a gift. “Always remember your roots and who you are today, Time and the world will try to change you to it’s need. But remember who you are today and hold that somewhere deep down and protected. Don’t let go of that no matter what. That is what makes you a man and the son I am proud of. You are always welcome home without question, without cause, remember that. When you arrive you will probably want to talk to the tower guard, they can direct you to the person you need to talk to if this is what you truly want. Take the time now on your trip to ensure your decision. Don’t rush once you arrive. Tar Valon and the tower are not going anywhere, and the decision you make will live with you for your time here in this world. Be sure my son, be sure.” With that his father unraveled the blanket and pulled free the sword that had hung above the mantel for so long. It had been his when he was in the Ghealdanian army. “This is for you.” He stated as his hand slide up the scabbard toward the hilt, “May you never need to use it, and should you, may it help keep you as safe as it did me.” His hand stopped above the hilt hovering for a moment as if to grasp it, then dropped back to his side as he handed the weapon to his son. Corin looked from his fathers face to the sword and back. He reached a trembling hand out to take the sword from his father, who hugged him hard, mumbled something about safe passages and then turned and waded through the crowds at the dock. Corin was left standing there, his fathers sword in one hand, and his pack in another staring after his father.
   When he could no longer see his father in the crowd he turned and boarded the boat and prepared for the journey, a thousand questions swirling in his mind. Corin was never so happy on that trip as when the boat would moor at a harbor or dock and he could get off, if only briefly, and put his feet on solid ground. Now he understood his father’s remark “let’s see how well you lend to the motion of a boat”. Apparently not well, but it seemed to keep the crew entertained. As the trip continued he seemed to be able to cope with it better. But was sure he would never enjoy a life on a boat. Corin’s imagination ran wild as he saw new places and people on his journey north. Including a brief yet eventful stop in Caemlyn.
  As he finally neared his destination his breath caught in his throat as he looked over the bow of the boat and saw the shining white spike rising in the distance. With the sun still early in the sky and the mist splashing up from the bow, the tower appeared framed in diamonds. Corin could not take his eyes off the tower, watching as more and more of the White Tower spires began to come into view. His eyes took in the whole view as the city of Tar Valon filled his vision and swirled in his mind. Eyes darting everywhere as the boat proceeded toward south harbor passing under one of the long white bridges connecting Tar Valon with the mainland. It was more than his mind had could have fathomed back home as he listened to the tales. This is where he had to be, he breathed in deeply as the boat bumped against the dock and was moored. With wide eyes and a grin that split his face near in two he stepped off the boat and started through the harbor crowds. His adventure was about to begin.