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Email: J.Krebs@uky.edu

DescriptionEdit

Eye Color: Almonde shaped grey eyes
Hair Color: Long black usually fashioned i
Height: 5'10'
Weight: 145
Age: 15
Place of Origin: Saldaea from a small farming thorpe just south of Maradon

StatsEdit

Rank: Trainee
Weaopon Score: 1
Philosophy: Not Choosen Yet
Primary Weapon:
Secondary Weapon:
Tertiary Weapon:

HistoryEdit

Youngest of 5 children to a poor farming family in a poor farming village, Wolfe enjoyed life as any 15 year old did in his community. Days went by for him as any other, hearding sheep all day and constantly watching over his shoulders into the blight. The blight is a common landscape view from the small hamlet and constant vigilance was always given to it.

Until one day when a group of strange southerners came through his village from Moradan looking for a place to lay their head. A woman with odd eyes and an odd look about him found him walking back to his home one night in the square. She was shadowed by a giant of a man with broad shoulders and a fierce look in his eyes. She gave him a peculiar look and asked his name which he generously offered to the pretty lady. She asked him to take them to their house to talk to his parents. Once their he was asked to give them privacy and to wash up and go to bed.

At first light in the morning he awoke with his parents hovering over him with tears in their eyes. They explained it very simply that they would be joining the company that had come through town to the white tower where he will learn to fight and protect. They told him it was an honor. They told him to have a stiff upper lip. He felt like a 15 year old boy, scared and alone with perfect strangers. When he got up and packed and walked to the square he saw the majestic woman atop a horse with a regal kind of majesty. A tall horse was saddled and bridled and the broad shouldered man in armor held it expectantly. When he turned around to prepare his good byes to his family he vowed to come back a warrior and defend his homeland from the threat of the blight. Tears came unexpectantly to the seasoned villagers so close to the blight as they said goodbye to their youngest child.

Hours later the village rolled out of view behind the company and this is the first anyone has spoken to him since he left the village. The woman slowed her pace to match his and told him that he was going to the White Tower to learn the art of sword and shield. The thought was not very encouraging. Wolfe always thought he would feel more comfortable with a shepherds crooke then a longsword. He was Saldaean he was brought up with the idea of fighting however it never seemed so evident to him. His father and older brother had taught him how to use a bow, set a snare, skin a rabbit or other woodland creatures. But this woman and this warrior would teach him to kill. The thought shocked and intrigued him the entire way to Tar Valon. She continued to talk to him but most of the words were lost to him as he thought about where he was going and what he would be doing. One word did slip into his dreams when the regal woman spoke the word destiny.

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