Email: dreaded_massacre@hotmail.com
Description[]
Eye Color: blue-gray
Hair Color: Black
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 152
Age: 17
Place of Origin: Caemlyn
Stats[]
Rank: Trainee
Weaopon Score: 2
Philosophy: Not Choosen Yet
Primary Weapon:
Secondary Weapon:
Tertiary Weapon:
History[]
Taeriln grew up in a small house next to his father's armory, he was the second child in his family, having an older sister. His father, Woltar, was an ex-soldier in the Queen's Guard, who had retired due to Elanore, Taeriln's mother, becoming pregnant. Being unable to help the army in battle physically, he had decided to forge the weapons for them. Woltar had become a well known blacksmith for the weapons he made.
A few days before Taeriln's birth, his mother fell terribly ill. The healers did all they could to keep the fever down. By the time Taeriln was born, his mother was so ill it took all the energy left in her to deliver him, she passed away mere minutes after his birth. Woltar had love Elanore and went into a deep depression, rarely leaving his bed, which made it so a midwife took care of him as a child.
By the age of sixteen, his father had returned to his old self again, but had times where he would want to be alone. Starting at a young age, his father had taught him the ways of being a blacksmith, which had helped define his muscle tone, and Woltar had even showed him how to use a sword without hurting himself, where they had little sparring duels. Woltar would take Taeriln outside the city walls to go on hunting trips, he showed him how to use a bow, and how to correctly aim it. Taeriln had always dreamed of following in his father's footsteps and one day owning the armory. However, that all changed one solemn night.
The gentle breeze felt great in his hair, Taeriln was returning home after having spent the night in the Tavern. Suddenly, Taeriln heard a feeble cry behind him. He turned around in time to see a group of men drag a screaming girl into a dark alley, her pleading cries being drowned out by the tavern next to her. Taeriln ran over to them not knowing exactly what to expect. There he saw a quivering young girl, about one year younger, looking up at him through teary eyes with a pleading look in them. Her face was swelling up and her clothes had been torn during her struggle. He recognized the face, but just couldn't put a name to it.
"What's going on here? Get away from her."
The men all turned to him, he noticed some of the faces as some of his friends. They all had a white ribbon wrapped around their arm.
"She's a bloody Aes Sedai," said Owen, who seemed to be the leader of the group, "I saw it with my own eyes, she been using her magic." The other men all gave nods of approval.
That's when it hit him, it was Margarite, the weaver's daughter. Taeriln had always found her to be attractive, he had only talked to her a few times, but he thought of her as a friend. Taeriln doubted Owen was speaking the truth, he had a feeling he was trying to get back at her for having slapped him in public. He would be looking for any reason to be able to, no matter how outrageous it was.
"So if your not going to help us out, you can just run off now."
Owen turned his attention back to Margarite and lifted his leg to give her a kick. Taeriln acted on instinct. He grabbed Owen's leg and pulled him away, and pushed him to the ground. The other men all turned on him, he only had time to land one hit, making contact with one of their noses, before he was taking down. Taeriln tried to remain conscious and to defend himself, with no success.
Taeriln woke up the next day in his bed, with no conscious of how he had gotten there. By his side was Margarite, asleep in a chair. It was close to sunset now, and Taeriln body was in pain in every area. A midwife opened the door, holding a pot of water in her hands and a towel over her shoulder, she was old, with long whitening hair tied back in a bun. She hadn't noticed him awake in his bed and was a little shocked to see it. She put the pot on the side table next to the bed and looked at him.
"Wha... What..." he stuttered, his jaw hurting every time he opened his mouth, "What happened?"
She explained everything, that while the men were beating him, the men from the tavern came out and stopped the fight. Margarite slowly opened her eyes, shaking the sleep from her eyes. She gave a start when she saw Taeriln talking to the old midwife. Next, she got up and gave him a gentle hug, being careful not to hurt him.
"Thank you, thank you!"
A few weeks later, Taeriln was back to normal. He has been spending more time with Margarite, and had even begun to fall in love, but he never spoke a word of it. She was by his side when he learned of his father falling ill, and she had still been there when Taeriln held his father's hand as he passed away. Before passing away, his father gave him one last gift. An amulet made up of a serpent wrapped around a sword. Taeriln had no way of paying for the armory or for his home, so Margarite and her family took him in.
On a damp cold night, while walking along the streets of Caemlyn, Taeriln came upon the aftermath of a brutal beating. A young girl was curled up in a tight ball, we a bloody face. So beaten was this young girl, that Taeriln did not even recognize her, it was Margarite. Taeriln picked up the girl, and brought her back home. The next morning, he was told the horrible news, that it was Margarite and that she was on the brink of death. Tears stained Taeriln's face as he held onto Margarite.
"Taeriln, listen. This is ver... very important. I want you... I want you to know. Owen was not lying. He did see me using magic. I have the ability to... to.. to channel," she took a deep breath, "I... I... I love yo..."
Margarite went limp in his arms, Taeriln held on tightly to her. Tears fell from his chin on to Margarite's cold face. (Why did she have to go? Why?! Because she was born with something she couldn't control. It's just not fair. Why?!) Taeriln got up and left the room without saying a word to anyone. He went packed his stuff and was about to leave when Albel, Margarite's father, stopped him. Without saying a word, Albel nodded and let him leave.
Taeriln finds himself on the road to the White Tower, he was going to become a warder. (No one should have to die because of something their born with. I will become a warder, I will protect Aes Sedai with my last breath.No one should have to die because of something their born with. I will become a warder, I will protect Aes Sedai with my last breath.)