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DM Handle Sieve

DescriptionEdit

Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 200
Age: 16
Place of Origin: Arafel

StatsEdit

Rank: Tower Guard
Weaopon Score: 15
Philosophy: Not Chosen Yet
Primary Weapon: Not Chosen Yet
Secondary Weapon: Not Chosen Yet
Tertiary Weapon: Not Chosen Yet

HistoryEdit

Perivar is the youngest son of a minor Arafellin noble, Terval Tarigan. Perivar has an older brother and two older sisters. He is short and well built though more on the stocky side in comparison to the other men in his family. His stature is distinctly different from his father and brother who are both taller with a slender frame.

Perivar looks more like the son of a blacksmith than the son of a noble. His features are sharp and distinct, almost as if sculpted from stone, a gift from the harsh lands. Like many of his kind, Perivar wears his hair in two long braids with silver bells on the ends. Although he has lost uncles, cousins, and the like, fortunately his immediate family is intact, thank the light.

Like most Arafellins, Perivar has an enhanced sense of honor that outsiders would consider strange. The morals and ethics of his people were ingrained in him early on. He would readily ask his parents or elders for punishment for his transgressions. As a result he spent much of his time with menial tasks and physical labor to pay for his infractions. Brawls and Duels were common either as a result of an actual or perceived insult.

Like other borderlander children, Perivar grew up with the reality of the blight and shadowspawn. Death or injury were never far away in the borderlands. He still found it hard to believe that most southlanders did not believe that shadowspawn were real. Such things as trollocs were believed to be mere machinations used to scare children into doing as they were told. Well Perivar had experienced both the blight and shadowspawn, there was no doubt to any borderlander that they were real. As soon as he was able to lift a sword, he was forced to practice the basic forms. It was a matter of survival, hours upon hours were spent wielding various weapons, learning horsemanship or just conditioning. Perivar enjoyed riding and was exceptionally skilled in horsemanship for someone is age.

When fighting, he preferred to wield two swords, he was far more offensive than defensive. He was most proficient with this form though not as skilled as those many years senior to him. He desired to become a master of the form one day, an accolade that was far in the future if he was even skilled enough to make the cut. He was also taught to shoot a horsebow, another necessity in the borderlands.


Perivar walked along the picket lines purposely going out of his way to check on his faithful warhorse, Aldieb, which means west wind. Perivar enjoyed training his mount and trusted Aldieb as he trusted a brother in battle. Aldieb eyed him as he approached, Pervivar lifted a sore arm to Aldieb’s mouth, giving the horse a treat. He patted the horse’s head with his other hand as he spoke to his valiant mount. After a few minutes he left in the direction of the soldier’s tents, he stretched and rubbed tired arms on his way. Perivar had just finished training with the other younglings and was now answering a summons to his father’s tent. The blue and white striped tent stood proudly on the hill, barely visible in the waning light. Perivar wondered about the summons, were the Shienarans pushing the border again or perhaps it was the shadowspawn, excitement grew as he thought on the chance to prove his worth to his father. He had recently been allowed to accompany his father on campaigns and he was desperate to gain his respect. He had taken part in a handful of skirmishes though none could be considered a battle.

As he neared the tent he saw two unfamiliar mounts tethered to the hitching post. One a beautiful white mare, with a neatly braided mane, a blue velvet saddle pad under an ornately decorated saddle. The other, a dark, raven colored warhorse at least two hands taller than the mare. He fought the urge to approach the massive mount, some could be very touchy if their master was not present.

Perivar nodded to the guards before pushing aside the entry flap, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the lamp lit interior. His eyebrows rose in consternation as his mind raced to process the information which sounded in his head like a gong. His father was deep in conversation with the newcomer’s, the odd thing is that he showed deference to one if not both. That was not something he was used to, there were not many people who his father would bow down to.

The look of recognition flashed on his father’s face as his eyes met Perivar’s. The newcomer’s, whose backs had been to Perivar now turned to face him. He just stood there like he had been pole-axed as his eyes took in the woman’s ageless face. His eyes then drifted to the shape shifting cloak that named her male companion her warder. He should have figured it out based on the mounts hitched outside but he wasn’t considered to be a scholar, his horsemanship and skill with a sword far outpaced his mind.

His mother glanced at him briefly then back to the newcomer’s. He noticed no hint of deference in her carriage, quite the opposite as she wore a look of defiance. He expected daggers to shoot from her eyes and strike the Aes Sedai and Warder. What could have her so on edge he thought. Her demeanor had caught the attention of the warder whose hand was on his sword’s hilt as he now looked in her direction instead of at Perivar.

Perivar’s hands instinctively went to his own hilts as he watched the warder eye his mother. The warder’s eyebrow rose ever so slightly as he spotted Perivar’s hands on his hilts. Light, the man was intimidating though Perivar held his ground hoping that he appeared more composed than he felt.

“At ease, Perivar” His father spoke to him, “You too” his father said looking at his mother though all that did was to cause her to direct her glare from the newcomers to his father.

The dark haired Aes Sedai placed her hand on her warder’s sword arm as she whispered to him, the golden serpent ring clearly visible backing up the ageas if the eye. Her words were inaudible though whatever she had said had an effect, the warder did not relax or stop glaring at him though he did remove his hand from his sword’s hilt.

Perivar dutifully dropped his hands to his sides on command and listened as his father told him the purpose of his summons. Perivar opened his mouth to protest though his father simply raised his hand and the unspoken words reverberated in his head. That was that, there was nothing to be done about it. As he turned to leave the tent he noticed a tear trickling down his mother’s cheek, it was the first time he had ever seen her shed a tear.

In the morning, Perivar and the ten other young borderlanders rode out of the encampment behind the Aes Sedai and her warder. Apparently they were to meet up with scores of other recruits that were bound for the Tower Guard before making their way to Tar Valon.

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