Kabria Delondre

Name: Kabria Delondre
Age: 18
Nationality: Kandori /Illianer
Hair: Pale blonde dyed red at the tips
Eyes: Pale sky blue Eyes
Skin: Sun darkened to a nice golden tan
Height: average 5'4
Voice: Her voice is commanding, and it is fairly deep, but clouded with a musical quality (inherited from her mother)
Other: She has several tattoo's covering her body including some on her hands and neck. Before she was deposited in Illian she pierced her nose for another remembrance of her past.
Skills: She is a great navigator, and learned something of unarmed combat
Knowledge Weakness: Knows nothing of shore bound culture
Personality weakness: Has no people skills, and buries her emotions which causes her to be bitter.
Personality: She is bitter about her past, and secretly heartbroken over the loss of her adopted mother. Kabria always appears to be glaring and she stalks with a purpose as apposed to just walking.
= Character History =
Katarina Delondre was born to an Andorian merchant and a Kandori, her parents were an odd match from the start and their marriage seemed predestined to fail. At the age of 13 Katrarina found she was alone, without family or friends. Her parents did nothing but fight and often they seemed to forget that young Katarina existed. One night she snuck out her bedroom window with all the money she had been able to scrap together. She bought passage to Illian, it was as far from her home as she could get.
She was still a child in many ways when she reached Illian; but she was willing to do what she had to enable to survive. With in a week she had secured a job in the Kings palace, where she was put into training as a maid. Katarina quickly grew to enjoy her position, she was a pretty girl but common; often the nobles forgot she was there. Kabria found herself privy to the secrets of her employers and she did not mind selling them if the price was right. One afternoon while cleaning a high noble's room the man arrived back before he was due; Kat made her curtsies with promises to be swift but the man had more on his mind than clean bed linens. With in a week a torrid love affair
had sparked between the two. A love affair with a commoner was not so uncommon, but the fact that the man was married made it taboo.
A child was born as result of their passions, a child that Katarina despised. Her child was doted upon in secret by her father; a fact that only made Katarina fume. The secret meetings took all of his time, so his private time with Katarina dwindled and soon was nonexistent.
Blonde haired Kabria was loved by all the palace servants and a thousand rumors flew about as too the identity of her father. There was nothing more tantalizing to a servant than a scandal and Kabria's birth had caused just that. It was spread almost immediately that a noble had fathered the toe haired child.
Every noblewoman in residence looked crosswise at her husband when that rumors reached their ears. Edwarden (Kabria's father) was forced to stop his visits with his daughter, a fact that broke his heart. Edward loved Kabria more than words could describe and did not want to hide. In a heated rage he told his wife of Katarina and the child they had bore.
Feeling jaded his wife wasted no time in making plans. It was only luck and happenstance that allowed Katarina and 11 year old Kabria to flee Illian unscathed. Mother and daughter boarded the first ship that was setting sail. It was a SeaFolk raker, named the WaveSkimmer. Shenesta din Nightwinds was the Sailmistress of the WaveSkimmer, she had little patience and no humor. Yet she had allowed the mother and daughter to board for a very hefty gift of passage. She had little
extra room for passengers and children always got in the way; but something in the child's face touched her. Kabria reminded her of her own daughter, now 10 years grown.
In short order the WaveSkimmer arrived in Mayene; but during the journey Kabria had grown fascinated with the workings of a ship and spent many evening hours locked in Shenesta's quarters discussing the
sea and ships and many matters of the world. When they docked in Mayene Katarina departed the boat with promises to return before the ship sailed. Two days Shene waited in hopes that Kabria's mother would return, but from the first moment Shenesta had seen through her lies, and she had begun making plans. A child on her ship would be a burden unless she learned to pull her weight.
----
Kabria brushed her now white blonde hair, how many years since it had lost its tinge of gold? Running the brush through her shoulder length locks she thought once again about cutting it all off. It would be easier and take less time than plating it in tight braids that wrapped up and were fixed firmly to her head.
She stared at her face and sun darkened skin in the mirror and smiled. The dark skin, almost white hair, hid her mother's features from her, at least at first glance. She had made her peace with Katarina and let her go; she had no feelings left for the woman who had given her life. Shenesta had taught her about life, and men, and most important the sea. Kabria had a direction and a sense of self; and she owed it all to Shenestsa.
She was not worried when Shene had asked Kabria to see her in her quarters after dark fell. It was a nightly ritual and she had hardly needed a summons, but just after full Kabria opened Shene's doors and was met with a blank stare. Kabria had never felt the need to knock but this time she felt as if she had done something wrong. Shenesta's face held nothing of the warmth she was used to, so she took her seat with silence.
If eyes could hold clouds Shenesta's would have been black with rain and lighting. "Sit Kabria we have much to discuss" As plans were laid out before her Kabria's eyes filled with tears and her mind
flashback over the last 4 years.
… Blood poured from her scalp and salt water coated her skin. She could feel every splinter in her head, and the hot blood that ran down made a fan across her face. It would require stitching to repair the damage the loose boom had caused. At only 13 years old Kabria's urge to cry was just barely suppressed. Only Shenesta's jokes and smart quips kept the tears at bay…
"You must understand Kabria, you have been like a daughter to me but your place is not with us. You knew you could not remain forever" Her abandonment by her birth mother suddenly seemed as fresh as if it had happened only yesterday. Why did everyone who had ever meant anything to her feel the need to turn their back?
Her fingers drifted towards her heart and for a time staring off into nothing. Kabria's years at sea with Shenesta had made her hard and taught her to suppress her emotions. Decisions reached in haste and made with your heart instead of your head could lead to disaster, especially with the sea as your mistress. " I understand Shenesta, I will leave you once we reach Illian. It is past time I was back in the land of my birth"
She departed without another word; there was so much she wanted to say; so many emotions she wanted to express but that night was not the time. Perhaps Shenesta would arrange for them to bathe together before she departed, the bath was a place where they would speak freely and share emotions that went unspoken else where. Before Kabria went to bed that night she spoke with the tattooist on the ship and arranged for him to arrive early the next morning. Shenesta had found out her plans, and when morning dawned the man never arrived.
----
Outside the walls of Illian was a small shop, dank and dark but it held the one thing she needed. For two nights the man worked for 6 hours each, while Kabria lay face down on a bed fighting back tears. It was hard to be brave while she was all alone, stripped to the waist, with nothing to focus on but the needles piercing her skin. The image of the raker ran from shoulder to shoulder and was more than two hands tall. When she saw the beauty that was depicted on her back she forgot the pain. The raker was on the first among many that the man drilled into her skin. It was that man who directed her to a shop in the city that could make her final transformation.
The city of Illian seemed larger than Kabria remembered; but then to her anything larger than an un-walled town gave her pause. Many women she passed in the streets stepped wide to avoid her and the men stared at with open interest. Her blonde and red hair named her an outlander as much as the tattoos on her neck. Kabria's dress was a simple woolen, well made with little embroidery. It could have passed without comment anywhere except for the way she wore it. Every few steps her feet became tangled and she almost landed on her face. The hem on the dress was torn and covered with dirt and she was becoming increasingly frustrated with every step. Skirts were less than useless in her eyes,
but they had been necessary if she was to return to the life of the shore bound. The thoughts that filled her head had turned her eyes into pits of lighting and ice. It was a wonder that the women who
stepped clear of her did not run, though many seemed just on the verge.
She stalked the streets of the city in search of someone who could help her. Kabria's fierce eyes sought out any sign. She passed several buildings time and time again but she marched on. Crowded between a cutler and a seamstress was a tiny two story building, the first floor made of pitted stone and the second was a well worn wood. Its white wash had faded to gray and the sign proclaiming the trade was faded beyond recognition but the man who sat at the door was all the sign she needed.
"Good sir I think you can help me!" With only a few words and the exchange of silver Kabria found herself flat on her back with the menacing looking man lording over her. The needle he held was thin and blade sharp. It was over before she had a chance to scream and she examined the work in a cracked mirror. A tiny silver ring looped through her nose and Kabria smiled, it was another memory of her past.
----
Two weeks in Illian and her life was falling into a steady rhythm of work and sleep. During the day she worked in the kitchens of the Wondering Minstrel, turning spits and sweeping floors. No one had been willing to give her a job waiting tables, not unless she changed the oddities of her appearance. Refusing to change even a hair had found her a job that worked her from sun up until sun down and a cramped room in an attic.
The Minstrel was a moderately sized in with patrons of moderate wealth. Everything about the Inn was average, except the food. Shashel the head cook was a wonder with spices and a find hand with a spoon. Kabria did not think she had ever eaten so well. The food almost made up for her cramped quarters and menial pay. Over the 2 and a half years Kabria worked and slept and did little else with her time. She submerged herself with her work and became very good at what she did. Kabria had not felt the need to make friends; at least not the kind that could speak back. Her only friends were her books. The tiny cramped quarters she dwelled in were filled to bursting with manuscripts from all over the world. She had begun to collect her own small library. Kabria believed she could learn more of culture from books than from human interaction.
One day shortly after her 18th naming day Kabria's world was thrown for a loop.A young woman arrived, and had soon revealed herself as Aes Sedai. Kabria could not help but sneak peeks at the woman when she could. Aes Sedai were always refused passage on the WaveSkimmer, they were refused so fervently that Kabria had become to think of them as hideous monsters.
The woman Kabria met briefly was anything but a monster, she was too happy by half but she was no rabid animal. Unfortunately Kabria had been seen by the woman; her appearance did not lend itself to avoiding notice. Before Kabria had time to think the woman had her knotted and tied in a neat bundle bound for Tar Valon and the White Tower itself.
As the pair journeyed to Tar Valon Kabria was left with much time to reflect.
….Her teeth felt ready to crack with the effort of holding back the scream. Staring off her eyes glazed over Kabria did not even flinch as a compass was completed on her hand. The dark ink felt like
fire beneath her skin, but the choice had been her own and she was proud that she hadn't shed a tear…
A single tear fell from her eye now as she stroked her final tribute to the mother she had lost. And copy of a tattoo that her "mother" had had.
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