Eye Color: Grey
Hair Color: Brown
Height: 5' 8
Weight: 132
Age: 16
Place of Origin: Gilionn, a village in Kandor


Rank: Tower Guard
Weaopon Score: 9
Philosophy: The Flame and the Void
Primary Weapon: Bastard Sword
Secondary Weapon: Quarterstaff
Tertiary Weapon: Hand to Hand


Born into a remote village on the border of Kandor and Arafel, Dylan was the youngest of three brothers in a small house in the centre of the village. As he began to grow up, it became apparent that he had taken after his mother, who was Arafellin. He had dark brown hair, unlike his fathers and brothers, whose hair was fair. His ears belonged to someone three years older. His two brothers, Gawyn and Martyn, were always teasing him and hitting him, making fun of him and calling him names. Dylan, however, retained a peaceful nature normally, although he did occasionally rise to his brothers bait and try to fight one or sometimes both at once, Needless to say, he lost.

           All this was the normal way of things until Dylan was ten years old, when his father decided that it was time that Dylan needed to learn how to use a weapon, in case of Trolloc raids. Bran Karero was a sergeant in the town watch, and so often walked the streets of his hometown, carrying his 7 foot long quarterstaff, for incapacitating criminals, and his trusty bastard sword, in case of something more sinister. He had taught all of his sons these weapons on the day that they turned ten years old. However, when he attempted to teach Dylan the sword, the young boy slashed his fingers and became the laughing stock of the village children. With the quarterstaff, however, Dylan showed some buried ability. 
           By the age of 15, Dylan had grown into his ears, was now taller than his mother, and could effectively defend, and sometimes defeat, his father with the quarterstaff. He could also pick up a sword without endangering himself and anybody within two meters. His prized possession was his quarterstaff itself, and so, when Martyn snapped it with his sword after being unable to get past Dylan?s defence, Dylan calmly put down his practice sword, strode into the house, got his fathers heavy, oak, 7 foot quarterstaff and, with absolutely no expression on his face whatsoever, broke his brothers jaw and knocked him unconscious.
           Luckily, there was an Aes Sedai in the village at the time, on her way to the capital, and so after the situation had been explained to her, she laughed and Healed Martyn. Her Warder, a stone-faced young man who loomed over everyone, had watched from the road as Dylan had quickly overcome his brother?s frantic defence and beat him senseless. He realized the potential in the youngster, and offered the boy a proposal. When he and his Aes Sedai came back from their journey, about two months from then, he would take Dylan back to Tar Valon to train with the Tower Guard. After thinking carefully about the pros and cons of this he decided that he wanted to go. He would not be able to join the Town Watch or the Army, both of which had been his ambitions, without learning how to fight well with the sword. It was reputed that the Warders and Tower Guard of Tar Valon were the greatest teachers of arms in the world. With about two years of training, he could match his father in the sword. So he asked his parents if he could join the party back to Tar Valon when they passed through the village again. His parents discussed it for hours before going to the inn where the Aes Sedai was staying. After an hour-and-a-half of suspense, his parents came back, saying yes, he could go.
           The remaining two months were no picnic, though. As punishment for breaking his brother?s jaw, he had to do all of Martyn?s chores, and his brother kept trying to get his own back. He was never happier for his name-day to come, and he climbed into the back of the wagon with only two welts from a practice sword and superficial burns, from where his brother had surprised him in front of the fireplace.
           On hi journey south he saw sights that he had never seen before. A band of armoured Whitecloaks riding down the road, Ogier stonemasons plodding past, and finally, Dragonmount, rearing out of the scenery like a dagger to pierce the sky. And just below, gleaming like a white diamond, the city of Tar Valon?

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