Thorik Reyn

Email: Thorik_Reyn@hotmail.com
==Description==
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown
Height: 6'
Weight: 185
Age: 20
Place of Origin: Caemlyn, Andor
==Stats==
Rank: Tower Guard
Weaopon Score: 11
Philosophy: The Spring
Primary Weapon: Katana
Secondary Weapon: Short Quarter Staff
Tertiary Weapon: 
==History==
The sun was setting on the city of Caemlyn. A train of merchant?s wagons was camped out in front of the walls. Only a few hours of daylight left to allow the merchants to bargain their goods. The quick words from the Andoran civilians arguing with the merchants seemed a low mummer compared to the loud rustle of the city inside the walls. Asvahn Kesu stuck his head out of his wagon. Smiling Asvahn bent forward to start down the stairs when he was shoved back into the wagon. There sat a man a hand taller than himself with a glare as cold as any Aes Sedai the man had ever tried to stay away from.
?Is it done?? Asked the man with a fiery tone like a serpent. The words slurred out of his tight-lipped mouth. Asvahn looked at him for only a moment, a moment that seemed to stretch time itself.
?As well as I could have managed. There is only so much that I can do when the sun is still up.?
The man sat staring in his direction, Asvahn could not help but notice fear in the other mans eyes. That cold dead stare that only made a man?s hairs stand on the back of his neck. Asvahn knew he was not just dealing with a man from the city.
?As long as it is done.? The icy man reached under his coat and pulled a wash leather pouch out and untied the small leather cord that held it tightly shut. With the bag upturned and shaken, twenty gold crowns fell into the man?s hand. For a moment he only looked at the man standing in the doorway. Then he stretched out his arm to hand the coin to the fellow. ?As long as it is done, so you will be paid. I will come again to ask of you your services.?
Taking the coins and recounting them as if the other man had just guessed, Asvahn looked upon a man that was no ordinary man. Looking at the twenty crowns in his hand, of Andorin weight as promised, Asvahn met the man?s icy stare with a stare of his own. He knew this man was taken with greed and power, and for once Asvahn was grateful that the man did not try to reclaim the coins. ?Of course, you know where to find me.?
With that the icy man bounded to his feet, head almost reaching the canvas toped wagon ceiling, and he was past the other man and out the door. Asvahn looked after him and paused. The man was nowhere to be found. Asvahn sighed a great sigh of relief. No names, that was his rule, he was to be given no names, for a man who could name names was not only dangerous, but in every lords eye. With the man gone out of sight he started down the stairs again to start bargaining with this morning?s crowd.
 
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The doors of the study slammed open as a man of above average height, well for a Andoran it was above average, stalked in. Brown eyes searching the study, hair brushing the higher part of his shoulder blades swaying in the motion from left to right. A man of the age of thirty sat behind a table. Light from a single lantern was barely enough light to see the misarranged room and the dust settled the green and white marble floors of the grand room. Papers and scrolls were thrown about the cozy study as though raided with no care in the world. Books were no longer on shelves that held only dust now, maps of Caemlyn and the surrounding area sat atop of the brightly colored rugs depicting great battles, anywhere else these rugs would have hung on the walls of a great lord?s manor. The man behind the table only glanced at the young man in the doorway. Eyes fixed on the rugs on the other side of the table, he began to speak.
?Why the intrusion this evening?? Any other time of the year he would have had any man who intruded in on him this way flogged. Any other time. ?What is the matter, my son??
The other man only stared. Eyes red and puffy and light shining off of freshly wiped tears on his scarlet cheeks, he looked at the other man, his father, or he had known before this day, was not paying anymore attention to him as if he were a common servant! Anger boiled in his stomach and he clenched his fists.
Hands shaking, the man behind the desk viciously ripped his head to look at the other man. Voice shuddering, eyes starting to go red, his cheeks felt as though they were on fire, the man spoke in the best way he could. ?She w-was a g-great woman, Thorik.? Shocked his voice did not show the sorrow he felt inside, memories of the meetings with Asvahn Kesu flashed in his head. The man was known through out the city as a mercenary that would kill, and he had asked no names. He could not show any sign of relief, but at the same time he knew he could not really grieve for his wife?s death. She had found him out, one morning over a conversation she was never supposed to hear.
?You did not deserve her.? Thorik, standing as tall as his back would let him, voice as cold as ice, but as hard as steel, stared at the other man behind the desk. Thorik was only sixteen himself and had been taught how to handle a sword only to protect himself if need be. ?Burn my soul, you did not deserve her!? Now only anger swelled in Thorik?s voice. Eyes growing red, hands shaking as his knuckles went white for being balled into tightly clenched fists. He too knew of his fathers meetings with Asvahn Kesu, knew that he had his own wife viciously murdered.
?Son, you do not understand, if she even spoke a word to the other houses it could have been-?
?Shut up! She was your wife! Your wife! Light! A man that pays to have his wife killed is no man! You, Tealic, are no man!?
With the words from his son, Tealic slammed his fist down on the table in the middle of the study hard enough to make a man?s heart jump. Eyes red with anger, fists shaking, and a stare as cold as a winters heart. ?How dare you speak to your father like that! If you weren?t my son-?
?How dare me!? Thorik stopped the man short of getting the upper hand. ?How dare me! How dare YOU! You had your wife murdered, you tore your family apart with your bare hands, and you have the nerve to hold me in contempt! You are no father of mine!? Tears started to roll down Thorik?s already wet cheeks. The memories of his mother flashed through his head like a river splurging through a two foot wide gap in a dam. His mother?s voice rolled in his head trying to sooth him as though he had simply caught his hand between a door and the wall.
Tealic raced to stare his son in the face, eyes as hard as steel, he had taught him everything he knew, including how to play at Daes Dae?mar. He had to hire Kesu to kill his wife, if she went to one of the other houses about his plans, he would have been hung for treason. Still he did not take such a tongue from his son. ?When have you begun speaking to your father with that tone!?
?You are not my father! I have disowned you and my name to this house.? A slight smile arose on Thorik?s face when he saw Tealic?s reaction to his last words. He could hear a murmur behind him as he realized he and Tealic had been in a shouting match with the doors of the study wide open.
Tealic raced to close the doors of the study when he realized that they had been standing open this whole time. Anger crossed his voice once more, but he held it, only to falter to his son. ?You do not understand what a great game like Das Dae?mar requires if you are to be successful. You still have a lot to learn yet, and many more will see bad times ahead. That simply is what happens in the Great Game of Houses.?
Thorik?s eyes raged in anger. Just yesterday he was conversing with his mother about what houses would be good to marry with. In all of his sixteen years of life, he had not ever though of life without his mother. A dreadful threat and one that was never looked happily upon. Still as his eyes met Tealic, glaze for glaze, anger roared behind in his mind. He could not let anger get the best of him, that is how one was to control the outcome, with the slight change from defense to offence Tealic could have him chained or even worse, killed as he had his mother killed. Pushing the anger out of his mind he began to speak.
?I don?t care about Daes Dae?mar, I don?t care about Caemlyn, and I don?t care about this family. You tore us apart, and now there is no more of a family for this house. House Teshan is no more. I will not hold that name. I refuse to hold that name! My name is Thorik Reyn.?
Every word drove like a nail being hit by an anvil. The shock of his son taking his wife?s former name stabbed him in his heart. Slowly Tealic subsided, sank back to his chair behind his desk. Surely Thorik did not know of what he was planning. He could not know, there was no possible way. Suddenly there was a pound on the study doors. As Tealic raised his head, Thorik was opening the overly wide and tall wooden doors.
?Tealic Teshan, you are hereby arrested for treason and murder. Guards, Seize him.?
A half dozen armed guards with pikes and poleaxes stalked in and seized the man behind the desk. Eyes darting around him, Tealic sat there and stared at Thorik, his son no more.
?Why? Thorik why?? Tealic trembled when six spearheads were at his throat. ?I was your father.?
?My father died ten years ago when the Great Game over came his soul. Greediness, and plotting were the only things mother or me had. You are not my father; my father was an honest man, one not concerned with the Great Game. My family is dead, and I am ashamed to ever have had the name Teshan. I am going to learn with the warders in the White Tower.?
Thorik turned and stalked out of the study when a dozed more guards came in the hall with ropes. Thorik knew he had sent his father to his death for the acts of treason and the murder of his mother. Still, Thorik knew he could have no life in Caemlyn now. With a mother dead, and a father hanging from the gallows for treason, no one in Caemlyn would ever let Thorik have a respectable name. With his mind set, he gathered his few belongings he had prepared earlier that morning and climbed into the saddle of his bright gray gelding. The journey to Tar Valon would be one he would never forget; yet he would never regret
Category:WS 11
Category:Tower Guard
Category:Biographies
Category:Warder Bios