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Email: deanna_online@hotmail.com

DescriptionEdit

Eye Color: Green
Hair Color: Black
Height: 5'8
Weight: 180
Age: 17
Place of Origin: Shienar

StatsEdit

Rank: Warder
Weaopon Score: 9
Philosophy: Not Choosen Yet
Primary Weapon: Bastard Sword/Kite Shield
Secondary Weapon: Short Sword
Tertiary Weapon: Daggers

HistoryEdit

Ragan remembers little of his mother and father. Mother was beautiful like the blue bells on a summer day and Father was strong enough to make him fly like the birds. Mother made him sweet cakes and Father would let him stay up to look at the stars and name them. Mother sang songs to make him happy and sometimes for no reason at all. Her voice echoed through the fields of their homeland so far you could hear it even down at the pond where he liked to catch frogs. Many times he fell fast asleep listening to her even when he didn?t want to sleep at all. Father could do anything, hunt, fish, and cut even the mightiest iron wood. Father was all Ragan wanted to be inlife. Still, what he remembers most clearly of them isn?t the happy songs or the sweet cakes? not the flying or stars but the blood and laughter. The smell of ale and bile.

The brigands had killed them both before he had come inside. They were drinking and one was sicking up on the table. The eight of them seemed unconcerned about the blood but one man? the biggest? did. Ragan remembers standing there just watching them for a very long time until at last the big man took note of him. What followed is a whirlwind in his mind. The men fighting. One man dying at the hands of the big one. Finally the big man scooping him up as she struggled and carrying him off to a horse. The group of them road off leaving his home and family far behind.

The big man, who he later came to know as Fen, took him into his life. Though it wasn?t an easy battle to win. Twice he ran off and more than his fair share of time was spent fighting Fen. Fen was a criminal. A thief to be exact. His band, he later found out, had intended to rob his mother and father of supplies and be on their way but one man got over zealous and his mother was hurt. When his father came to her aid there was no recourse but to defend themselves and, sadly, he was killed. Fen always claimed to have regretted the affair and in time Ragan believed that Fen would never have allowed it to occur with foreknowledge. The man was, after all, no murderer.

But living with Fen and his band came a price and that was earning your keep. So it was that he began his life as a thief. First it started small?slight of hand sort of things, pick pocketing, and getting into places where only a boy could go. Sometimes he was the distraction for the others but one way or another Ragan got his foot in the door of the world of crime.

Over time Fen eventually decided stopping coaches and riders would be the way to go once more. So with his first short sword in hand Ragan was taught the basics of how to use it and look as though he might actually be more dangerous than he was by walking a certain way and holding himself in others.

Sometimes pickings on the roads of the northern lands was slim and so it was the wilds that kept them fed and alive. Here Ragan learned to set snares, track, fish, and hunt. He even learned of a few berries and herbs that settled stomachs and calmed a bad fever. Though Ragan had come to be good at being a thief, he couldn?t deny that he had missed living off the land.

Ragan?s life changed one winter day in southern Shienar when a small robbery went terribly wrong. The man he tried to steal from turned out to be a member of the Children of the Light. Ragan had never seen his emblem inside his heavy winter riding cloak and as the man grabbed him up he was certain he would die. The man called him dark friend and as Ragan spat out frantic praises to the Light and declarations of his love of it the man pulled a blade on him. Steel flashed and Ragan hit the ground hard.

Above him stood a man, tall and strong but his eyes seemed old and weary. He pulled his blade out of the Child and looked down to him. Offering Ragan a hand the man not only saved him from certain death at the hands of a fanatic but of a life with Fen and his men. A life of a criminal. Together with the man, he later learned that his name was (insert a dead warder name here) and that he was now traveling the boarderlands helping where he could for his reason for life? his oath? his strength, was now gone. He had been a warder to an Aes Sedai and he had failed to save her life. Now he was alone? until the moment he met Ragan.

Together, the 12 year old Ragan and the former Warder traveled living off the land and talking of life. Ragan often considered the Warder?s words foolish musings of how the world might have been but was no more but he never said so. He owed a great debt to the Warder and until the day he could save the Warder?s life he would not leave his side.

Ragan learned more of how to use his blade but more about how to live. About honor, about charity, and about mercy. The day that he and the Warder had to say goodbye was one of the hardest. He was 16 when the sadness couldn?t be fought off any more and the warder simply fell over with tears of pain and grief. Ragan begged the man to let him do something to save him so that his debt would be repaid and with his last words the warder told him that the debt would be repaid only if Ragan went to the White Tower and found himself.

That day Ragan gave the old warder back to the mother?s embrace and swore in blood that he would do just what the warder asked? even if it killed him.

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