Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Black
Height: 5'8
Weight: 140
Age: 18
Place of Origin: Ebou Dar, Altara


Rank: Trainee
Weaopon Score: 5
Philosophy: Not Choosen Yet
Primary Weapon:
Secondary Weapon:
Tertiary Weapon:



Physical Description:

Leawen was probably born in the Rahad, Ebou Dar, Altara. Leawen is 5'8 tall and weighs 140 pounds. His black hair just reaches his shoulders. Typically for an Ebou Dari are his eyes but his fairly pale skin only shows a touch of olive complexion. He would never be called handsome. Still his masculine, rough features seem to make up for it, since he never had to complain about a lack of female attention. His rough childhood is also reflected in his physical appearance. His left leg is not quite straight since it was broken in his youth, but luckily it does not impair his ability to move quickly. He also carries the remnants of numerous old wounds on his body but the most noticeable marks are two horizontal scars under his right eye. Very straight and running perfectly parallel, they are plainly not from fighting. In short, Leawen does not look like the type you would like to meet in a dark alley alone.

He just turned 18 when he arrived at the tower.

History: Not knowing his parents, all he can remember of his childhood is that he has lived alone. He had to steal to eat, to fight to survive, run to not get caught and hide when the odds were against him. Not knowing his parents he thinks it most likely that his mother had earned her living by selling her body and that his father was either a foreign sailor or trader. When he turned 13 he had enough of the life in the Rahad. Together with two dozen other young boys, under the lead of the charismatic youngster Mejlan they left the city to make a living by robbing traders and other suitable travellers. Anyone wanting to join had to pass the "rite of cutting" also something that Mejlan had dreamed up. All it consisted of was two deep cuts on the right cheek that also served as a mark of rank and identification. Further cuts were supposed to follow for outstanding bravery, but the first attack turned into a disaster. More then half of them lost their life, Mejlen being amongst them. Shocked those surviving considered returning into the Rahad, but eventually they reformed into a "band of equals". The weeks that followed were hardest. If they approached traders they were only laughed at. Hardly anyone seemed to take them serious, badly armed, ragged and skinny as they were. They still made their living by stealing from farms. The way things were would drastically change when they held up a single cart only guarded by a seasoned Saldean rider. Thinking their attack a bad joke the Saldean only chortled, but Leawen insisted on fighting him and in the end the veteran dismounted. Normally this would have been his death, yet the Saldean did not really fight, toying with the youngster like a cat did with a mouse. But in the end it was him still standing, while the Saldean slowly toppled surprise showing in his eyes. That also changed the hierarchy of their gang. He wasn't called such, but he now effectively was their leader. Still in the following months most of their victims escaped unharmed and in possession of all their belonging. But as time passed, they refined their techniques.

Four years later Leawen was the only one left alive from the original group. Regionally they had earned a reputation that made sure no trader laughed when they saw them coming. That reputation made also sure they hardly had to kill anyone since they carefully choose whom it was worth to attack and whom not. A hard, determined charge, a few blows, numerical superiority and most merchants were willing to negotiate a deal for passing on 'safely'. 'Business' began to go well and Leawen started to build up a little wealth, saving it with the intention about making an honest life one day. But one night it was all over. The queen's soldiers routed him and his youngsters out, catching them in their sleep. Almost all of them were either killed or imprisoned to be hung later. Spending that night outside the camp with a skinny girl that had just joined them a few weeks before, Leawen was one of the few to escape, again.

Alone again he joined a different band of robbers. But with them he only lasted two weeks. These robbers, all of them much older then him, were made of different stuff then he was. They attacked to murder, not to survive. They waited for female travellers to rape them, not to get some of their jewellery. Quietly leaving he recovered the gold he had hidden over the years, but the gang he had joined had no intention of just letting him go like that. A mad chase, taking over a month ensued. Using his abilities of hiding and running he no longer hesitated to kill his pursuers in their sleep, to slit their throats or plunge a blade in their back, things he had never done when he had been a robber. For he knew fighting them directly, even if it was just a one on one, he would not have much of a chance.

Using his money he tried to make a new life in Ghealdan, later in Andor near Whitebridge, but every time he settled down some trader recognised his face, forcing him to pack his things and run again. One day Tar Valon appeared on the horizon.

Was there any better place to put an end to one's past then to become a tower guard or even a warder? Surely, if he wore the guards uniform no merchant would even think of the ragged and dirty robber any more.

A few further points to Leawen:

       -        In Altara and Illian there are still bounties on his head.
       -        He cannot read and has hardly any education, still, when he

has time, he carries the book "The History of Altara" with him since he loves the illustrations and he does pretend he is reading the book.

       -        He carries a set of Knifes (taken from the leader of the

last gang of robbers) and a Saldean Bastard Sword, plain but of good quality. It is the weapon of that first man he killed and it is to remind him to never underestimate another.

       -        He loves horses more then people, owning a Tairen steed he

took from a merchant.

       -        The only thing he likes more then horses are women
       -        He never drinks more then one glass of wine.
       -        Sings good enough to make a woman's heart melt. Only his

choice of songs is rarely suitable for that purpose.

       -        He has a bad habit of forgetting that not every fight is a

duel of life and death.

       -        He is afraid of deeper water and he cannot swim.
       -        He is particularly good and convincing liar.

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