Handle: Kura
Contact E-Mail: shadowfreak0000[at]yahoo[dot]com

Description Edit

Place of Birth: Andor
Age: 19
Appearance: He is reasonably tall, standing around 5’11, with short cropped blonde hair, and a pair of blue eyes. He spouts a set of shoulders an axe handle across, and has the heavy muscles of a blacksmith, ironically, he is slightly anemic and is quite pale.

History Edit

Kain was born to a wealthy weapon’s smith in Andor, an expert at quickly producing weapons suitable for the queen’s guards and others who have no need for a heron mark blade. That wasn’t to say he couldn’t produce such an exquisite piece of steel; he simply learned that quantity with a dash of quality yields far more profit than the opposite.

Kain inherited his father’s broad shoulders, and of course, his trade. He took to it quickly, starting off making simple forgings of horse shoes and pots, but quickly moved into weapon and armor smithing, making spear heads and the like for years, until his father let him forge his first sword at fourteen. He instantly fell in love with this higher level forging.

He produced a blade of passing quality, sold to a newly raised officer of the Queen’s Guards, and was allowed to keep the full profit of the sale. With a pat on the back his father told him to go out and spend the money on whatever he wanted. He spent all day searching for something worth spending his coin on, something he could set in his room and be nostalgic about, but turned up nothing. Finally, as he was standing beside a meat pie vender, a young woman approached him. She held out a book to him, a sad smile on her face, obviously in dire straights. “Please sir, you wouldn’t happen to be interested in this would you? You look like a big warrior, and I thought the topic might be to your liking.”

Feeling a mixture of pity and attraction, he took the book and looked it over. It was an ancient book on war, flipping through he saw weird weapons, quarterstaffs with what appeared to be single edged sword blades instead of spear points, and other oddities. It had, to be honest, piqued his curiosity, and he paid for the volume in silver, much to the delight of the young woman.

Going home and flipping through the pages, he saw another weapon that caught his eye. A huge double bladed beast of a sword, laughing to himself, he thought that was the sword for him. Big, not designed for fancy dipping of blades, but straightforward killing blows that could sever such fantastical creatures as a trolloc in twain. He wrote it off as a joke at first, but gradually the idea to actually make the behemoth sword grew on him, and so, at fifteen, he went down to the forge and poured every bit of skill he had gathered over the years, spending hours working on the sword, sizing it for a slightly taller man than his father, believing that he’d grow into it.

When it was done, his father looked at the blade, whistling. “Now, that is a fine hunk of wasted steel boy, there is no way we’ll be able to sell it.” Kain laughed, shaking his head, “I don’t want to sell it, I want to learn how to use it.” His father eyed him up and down, sighing, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have you know how to wield a weapon… Just don’t neglect your duties son; you’re a smith, not a swordsman.”

Years passed, Kain splitting his time between his two passions, admittedly having far more skill with a hammer than sword. One day, as he was relaxing at a tavern a man came in, wearing a long black coat. He labeled himself Asha’man, and wanted to know if any man wanted to defend the world from the shadow, protecting the people with the power. Kain was curious at the very least, knowing that Aes Sedai were the only ones who were supposed to be able to use this gift, and thinking the monopoly was a little unfair, even if the source was supposed to drive men mad.

He decided to take the risk, and after approaching the man he was told to focus on a fire that hovered over his hand. After a few minutes of intense concentration, he was told that he could learn to channel, and later found himself looking through a silvery gash in the air. Sword in hand, unprepared for what he had just done...

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