FANDOM


Email: Tureliov@hotmail.com

DescriptionEdit

Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Black
Height: 5'8
Weight: 176
Age: 18
Place of Origin: Shienar/Arafel

StatsEdit

Rank: Trainee
Weaopon Score: 2
Philosophy: Not Choosen Yet
Primary Weapon:
Secondary Weapon:
Tertiary Weapon:

HistoryEdit

Brief History:

-Born to a Shienarian soldier father and Arafellian mother -Lived between Fal Moran and Shol Arbela, a family estate in each -16 years of age, 18 when joining the warders -was traveling from Shol Arbela to Fal Moran with his family, where the bio takes place.

Bio:

Waking up in a dazed state, the man lifted his head and looked around, black. A campfire blazed some fifteen feet away from where he lay on the cool grass, a slight chill breeze ruffled his hair. He picked himself up, still disoriented. Looking around the campfire, he saw the remnants of a fight that took place some time ago, maybe a few hours, a day or two at the most. How long had he been unconscious, where was he, what happened here? These questions ran through his head as it throbbed in pain, but the question he was the most concerned about was WHO was he?

After 20 minutes of sitting my the flickering, almost extinguished flame, still with no answers to his questions and feeling better, but still in pain, he stumbled to his feet and had another look around. He was wearing a dark blue high collared coat with a black silk undershirt and long black pants. He wore black leather boots and gloves. His hair was tied back in two long braids with broken bells at then end of them. He was pale of skin with black hair. His dress and appearance confused him, who was he where did it all come from? On one side of the collar on his coat was a white heart with a swooping black hawk in the middle, on the other was a pin of two interwoven red and white roses. ?What do these mean?? he asked himself. Upon examining where he woke up, he found two long swords, possibly those to fill the empty sheathes crossing his back.

It was time for him to move, he knew not where he was, nor who he was, but there must be someone who knows. He picked up the two long swords and sheathed them, along with a third, slightly damaged katana that he hung on his waist. There was a large two handed long sword laying a few feet from the fire, but the man did not have the energy to carry it with him, he rested it against a large oak and began trudging through the woods, following the moon, not knowing what direction he traveled. A few minutes in, he heard a rustle from his right, he hid out of site. The sound of slow lumbering hooves came closer and closer. Not knowing what lurk in the darkness, he stayed out of sight. A large black figure emerged from the trees, a load snort was heard and he saw two piercing eyes spear into him. Coming out from hiding, the man stroked the large steed on its neck as is brayed and nuzzled him. He horse was saddled, but no rider could be found. It walked with a limp, having injured its ankle previously. Grabbing the reigns, the man walked the horse along with him slowly. After a few hours of walking, the two rested and waited until dawn.

With the sun rising, he realized he had been traveling east, and the end of the woods was near.

?Halt, who goes there?? A deep voice called out from behind him. A cloaked man came forward out of the shadows. ?Who are you boy?? He asked, ?And what were you doing alone in the woods? You must only be fifteen or sixteen. Come; tell me while we head to my camp.?

The boy followed what looked to be a soldier on horseback as he explained what had happened the previous night.

?We have had no reports, nor heard anything out of the ordinary last night, but, by the look of you and your steed, I will believe what you say.?

?Oh, this isn?t my horse,? The boy began, ?I found him in the woods.?

?Look at him and look how he reacts to you. That is a steed of Shienar, and you son, are most definitely his rider.?

The two came upon an opening where a small camp site was set up, several other armored men sat around laughing, whilst others patrolled the camp.

?Now, where are you from? By the looks of you and how you are adorned, I would assume you are from Shienar, but with your hair and swords, I would say from Arafel. But your face explains you are from both.? The man let forth a bellowing laugh. Another man came and took the two horses away.

?Honestly sir, I am not sure where I am from. I am not even sure who I am!? The boy responded.

?Hmm, well that is a bit tough then isn?t it. Well I will explain to you who we are. We are the Kernnunos, freelance warriors. We are monitoring these woods for the king of Shienar for any strange doings, but affiliated with none but to those against the darkness.?

Night was coming soon, torches around the camp blazed brightly.

?So, new recruit,? The man, who seemed to be the captain of the band or warriors, called out, ?We are a little short as some men have gone west for the night, do you mind being the nightwatch??

?Sure, I guess? The boy responded.

Nights turned to days and days back into nights and soon days and nights turned into months. The boy was now known to the men as simply ?Nightwatch? having no name; just this title and soon, it became his name.

The men taught Nightwatch how to fight, although the men were not professionally trained, the tutoring was a bit unorthodox. His main tutor was a man of Shienar and taught him the customs of his people.

After two years of traveling with the men and being taught about the land, basic swordsmanship and the times of old they rode through the gates of Tar Valon.

?Well, I think this is your stop, Nightwatch.? The captain began, ?It has been good to have you travel with us, but you are destined for bigger and better things. We will soon be old men, but you are only 18. I have been training you for this, the White Tower is where I wish for you to continue your training, become great like the rest of us wanted to be, but remember us when you make it and become a great warrior.? With that, he handed Nightwatch a royal blue scale mail tunic and a long black brigandine. ?These have served me well over the years and have saved me, may they do they same for you. Peace favor your sword.? With that, Nightwatch raised his hand to his chest and saluted as the men rode out of Tar Valon and left Nightwatch there to achieve what he could.

Ad blocker interference detected!


Wikia is a free-to-use site that makes money from advertising. We have a modified experience for viewers using ad blockers

Wikia is not accessible if you’ve made further modifications. Remove the custom ad blocker rule(s) and the page will load as expected.