Name: Dalek Kasavyn
Country of Origin: Ghealdan
Dalek stands at 5 ft 5, and weighs roughly 140 pounds. He has light brown hair and hazel eyes, and going by his looks one wouldn't notice any distinguishing traits to speak of. Though the trip from Ghealdan to Cairhien has built some additional muscle, most of it is still just for show as he still prefers to flee rather than fight.
Dalek is a sore loser. He thrives to be the best, but found a lack of talent and potential barring his way. Rather than train and get better, he'd prefer to take out those better than him in order to jump up the ranks, something the Darkfriends only seemed to encourage. A born pessimist, he has a negative image of those around him, often emphasizing their weaknesses to himself to boost his own self-esteem. This is also why he prefers to pull rank and order people around rather than do anything himself; he got to this rank, and by the Great Lord he'd order people around as he'd see fit! Though he seems to fit the stereotypical image of a Darkfriend, watching and plotting evil huddled in the shadows, he either doesn't know or doesn't care what people think about him.
Dalek was born as the middle brother in a family of three. From his birth on out, he had been continually outdone in everything, never really excelling at something. In terms of strength, his older brother outdid him. In terms of speed and agility, his younger brother always had the upper hand. But it didn't stop there, almost anything he did was fated to be only average at best compared to others.
Disappointment changed into jealousy, before moving on to hatred and ultimately contempt. Soon, his darker moods were getting the upper hand, and he was estranging more and more from his family and friends. Not that he missed them, of course, they were living reminders of his inability to be good in anything, proof of lacking a way to be better than them. Soon after his fifteenth birthday, he ran away from home. If he was missed, Dalek never noticed it.
He was eventually found and taken in by a Darkfriend circle, and the boy recognized them as kindred spirits due to the way they hid their activities from the outside world much like he pulled back into his own little world every time he lost at something. Soon, he was ordered to make his first kill, and as the body cooled on the cold stone he watched the blood flow down the blade and onto his hand, feeling warm to the touch.
And then, he had it. It was so simple, really. If there were so many people outdoing him, he would simply assassinate them all to become the best by a simple process of elimination. Due to his zeal, his star in the circle quickly rose and he was made head of the circle after the old head had had an unfortunate meeting with a dagger. Though Dalek's hand in this was never proven, he was a capable leader though a bit odd at times.
Still, the occasionally random targets eventually brought the local town militia down upon them. Though he managed to take an eye from the first guard that rushed into the room, they were too quickly overwhelmed for him to finish her off and he was forced to flee. Of his circle, he was the only one that had survived, and he was forced to start rebuilding his network once more when word reached him of a ranch somewhere that was looking to hire new hands after having suffered a Whitecloak attack.
Given that he needed a new place to lie low for a while -- the guards in Ghealdan were passing along his picture throughout the country, it seemed -- he started on the long journey northeast through Andor and into Cairhien. It took a bit longer than it should have for passing north of Tar Valon. While traveling through the city itself would definitely have been faster, there were limits to the risks he wanted to place himself at, and being recognized meant an easy catch with the witches everywhere. Nevertheless, he managed to reach Fairhaven, contacting the local Darkfriend circle and joining them, only to move on to the Rashad Ranch later on.