Dorian Ayerell

Email: kristenowens@retravision.com.au
==Description==
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Dark brown/Black
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 170
Age: 18
Place of Origin: Baerlon, Andor
==Stats==
Rank: Trainee
Weaopon Score: 6
Philosophy: Not Choosen Yet
Primary Weapon: 
Secondary Weapon: 
Tertiary Weapon: 
==History==
Dorian quickly hid out of sight, in the hay loft, as a man and woman
entered. Not wishing to discovered, he lay still and quiet, cursing his
own bad luck. Letting his mind wander, he recalled the sounds and smells
of the inn his parents owned and ran in Baerlon, the Long Ride. It was a
warm homey place. Baerlon hardly felt like home anymore. Just after his
17th birthday, the city had encountered a sudden influx of Whitecloaks,
which intimidated and bullied the inhabitants, and made the once bright
bustling city, one full of fear and resentment.
 
During this time, Dorian's older brother Imman, became friends with some
of the whitecloaks. He soon became obsessed with hunting Darkfriends...
even turning on his own friends. Imman eventually joined the Children of
the Light. When he threatened to turn their own mother over to the
Questioners, Dorian became outraged, and fought his brother. Dorian was
quite agile and strong, but was outmatched by his brother. If only he
had had a staff or belt knife handy! With those he felt much safer. At
one point he knocked his brother offguard, and took the chance to flee.
For the past 3 weeks, Dorian had been in hiding. His attack on his
brother had led to continual searches by other whitecloaks, looking to
bring him to justice. Only at night did he dare leave the relative
safety of the run down stable, and only then to get food. His father had
taught him to be a skilled tracker, and so far he had avoided leaving a
trail. He had not seen anyone come near the stable in all his time
hiding out here, believing it to be abandoned. 
 
Dorian felt a trickle of sweat drip down the side of his face, as the
soft murmuring from below abruptly stopped. Hardly daring to breathe,
Dorian listened intently for the door to creak. After several minutes,
there was still no sound. Dorian's legs started to cramp. Biting back
the pain, he carefully shifted his legs, and almost moaned when a small
amount of hay drifted over the edge of the loft. 
 
He stiffened as the woman's voice called out "Show yourself boy."
Deperately needing to stretch his aching legs, he sighed, and slowly sat
up and peered over the edge. The woman was staring up at him with an
expressionless face. Shimmering black hair fell to her waist, framing a
beautiful oval face. On first look, Dorian thought she was quite young,
but her eyes seemed older, wiser. Alongside her stood a large, dangerous
looking man, with a face set like stone. His hand was resting almost
casually on his sword hilt, and his cloak seemed to change colour and
blend into the walls, even as he watched.
 
"Come down boy. We mean you no harm." Dorian eyed them warily. The woman
looked so composed, and her dress was a fine cut. She must be a noble.
But why would a noble hide in a barn?
 
"Who are you? What do you want from me?" Dorian matched her stare with
one of his own. Impatience flashed in the woman's eyes. "I am Clarine.
This is Ulrich. Now do you mind coming down and telling me why you've
been hiding in this barn for weeks?" She looked at his dirty, slept in
clothes. "Unless I am mistaken?" She raised an eyebrow. With a sigh,
Dorian climbed down. "Ulrich, give the poor boy some food. He looks half
starved!" Dorian took the bread and cheese Ulrich offered him
gratefully. "What's your name, boy?" Clarine asked
 
Dorian gave his name...and before he knew it, he had told his whole
sorry tale. "I'll be damned if I will ever be so helpless again!" He
said gruffly. "You are in a difficult situation Dorian, as are we. In
return for your help, we can ensure you receive the best training
possible. The same training Ulrich here received. But, we need your
assistance also." Dorian eyed her carefully." What do you need of me?"
He asked. "We need to reach Tar Valon...how ever, we wish to avoid
risking a run-in with the Children of the Light. If you can help us find
a back way out of the city, we shall in return see to you being trained
at Tar Valon." Dorian stared at her dumbfoundedly. "Tar Valon? But you
must be...Are you an Aes Sedai?" Clarine nodded. "And Ulrich..." "He is
my Warder." She answered. "And I can be trained as a warder?" Dorian
asked. He had heard stories of warders in battle, hard, fearsome
warriors. Possessing their skills, surely he would never be so helpless
again. And he certainly couldn't continue to live in this manner. He no
longer had a home. 
 
"I will help you Aes Sedai." He said solemnly. "Let us hurry, while it
is still dark." Dorian led them down back alleys, behind inns and shops,
until he came to a hole in the outer wall or Baerlon. "Nobody knows of
this place." He said, leading them through the gap. Ulrich led the pair
of horses they had brought with them. "We will find you a horse along
the way, Dorian." Said Clarine. 
 
As they headed away, Dorian turned and watch the city fade into the
distance. With silent farewell, he turned, and looked to his future, at
Tar Valon.
Category:WS 6
Category:Trainee
Category:Biographies
Category:Warder Bios